Merry Sniffus

Mom, I Will Never Do This To You

"Crowned" is terrible.

That is all.

Leafing

When I have to leave your town, I prefer to do at 5am and drive all morning. I arrive at my office heavily caffed and on a mission. I do the usual Monday things and then I go home, exhausted, feeling like I've had a productive day, and go to bed early.

When you have to leave my town, I sit and I am sad. It is hard for me to do other things besides these. Not impossible, but difficult.

Is it hard to date someone so naturally gifted?

The latest issue of SPOT magazine has a quote about the "TXT Me L8r" show and how different participants responded to different prompts. They use the example "Say goodbye," citing cameraphone pictures of hands thrown in front of the camera, a bowl of miso soup, and rumpled pink sheets.

I discover this while sitting on the couch with Jason.

M: That's ME! Those are my sheets. I am quoted in an art magazine. My WORK is quoted in an art magazine. I have arrived.

J: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know who wears the art pants in this relationship.

M: I am a cameraphone prodigy.

J: Yes.

M: Everything I photograph turns to gold.

J: Stoppit.


"Rumpled pink sheets"

My Tube

Featuring my cat and my monkeys.

No Really, What I Want For Xmas

-New AC Filter (and someone to help me change it)
-Guitar stand
-Mousepad
-New Pillows
-barrels and barrels of monkeys (for a decorating idea!)
-Grown-up hamper
-My So-Called Life DVD set
-iTunes gift certificates
-Kiehl's "Bright" Stuff
-New scratchy post for cat. Carpet and rope is good. As "classy" as these things can get...
-Subscriptions: McSweeney's, Readymade, or Film Movement
-SOCKS. Not cutsey. Thin "trouser socks" work-appropriate; knee-high
-My name spelled out in xmas cookies

-Gift certificates to attain any of the above!

BEST XMAS CARD EVER

Infovine has got it down. They know exactly what I want for Christmas.

I do not want cards with snowmen or reindeer or stars or ribbons.
I do not want cards with pictures of your children. (Yes I do.)



I want a card with my own name misspelled in Christmas cookies, please!

This holiday is shaping up to be ridiculously merry.

Awww...

There's nothing cuter than listening to NPR gush about the latest indie bands from Canada, Sweden, and those with animal fixations.

"Boilen tells All Things Considered host Michele Norris that he's also seeing more artists and fans fixated on animals, particularly bears. Panda Bear, Grizzly Bear, Giant Bear and Lucinda Black Bear are just a few."

Speaking of Canada, I am digging the new Stars album.

You can listen to my faves here:

SeeqPod Music beta - Playable Search

Sorry about that one with all the x00/s00/e00/w/ewre etc. It plays.
Isn't the internet great?

Hey, Teacher

You need to watch Chalk immediately.

Lies, all of it:

Cursing at students

Debating over signing a contract

New year, big expectations

Kids that blow you away

Kids that just want you, above all, to chill the eff out

I do not know what they are talking about.

Point Breaker

Scene: Monday night, 12am, fridge goes out...

M: Hey, I'm sorry to call you so late. I need you to walk me through the breakers again. I tried what I did last time and it isn't working--they all say "on."

J: Ok, you're looking for one that's in the middle. It might not say off, but it won't be lined up like the rest of them.

M: Yeah... nothing. There's one that doesn't say anything. Here, I'll flick it again.

::walk walk walk::

M: Nothing.

J: Can you wiggle the fridge out? What happens if you plug something else in?

M: Ok... hang on. Yeah, lamp's not working. Wait--lamp's not working in its usual place, either. But it works over by the table.

::more walking and flicking ensues::

M: So, I guess there's nothing else I can do. That sucks. I'm sorry. I'll deal with it in the morning.

J: I feel like I've failed you.

M: You're fine, I'm just frustrated because I don't want to lose all that frozen food.

J: ...

M: I love you, sleep well.

::5 minutes go by::

J: Hey, I thought of something.

M: ?

J: That outlet where the lamp plugs in by the sink... are there buttons on it?

M: There's a--ohhhhh shizzz... look at that.

J: ?

M: It's working. All I had to do was push the stupid red button.

J: As soon as you said lamp, I kept trying to picture that outlet. Most outlets near a water source, like in the kitchen or the bathroom, are supposed to have that safety. I guess yours controls the fridge.

M: You're a freaking genius. Go back to bed.

...

So, now we know how to fix the disposal and how to fix the breakers. My services are available for hire. I just wish my landlord would give me a "never calls at midnight about the #@$@$%! breaker" discount.

Asylum for Abused Cuddly Stuffed Toys

Jason has this praying bunny that his dad picked up secondhand as a dog toy. It's sort of creepy and raspy and scares the heck out of me whenever his dog starts playing with it.

We laugh, but I definitely felt bad after playing this cute little game where you play a psychologist responsible for administering to abused stuffed animals. It's written in Flash, so there's nothing to download, and the stories--as they unfold--play more like a narrative than what you might consider a game. My favorites are the sheep and the snake.

The Aslylum

Here's a hint if you get stuck: there's something under the bed, and while it may seem cruel, you have to use it for one of the patients.

Alternative Whale Names We Wish Greenpeace Would Consider

Don't get me wrong, we're very happy with Mister Splashy Pants.

Other Top Contenders, McSweeney's Style:

"Plankton Destroyer"

"Fucking Eats Biblical Figures Whole"

"Harpoon"

"Sashimi"

"Who You Callin' Blubber?"

"Ishmael"

MLS or house?

Which would you invest your money in?

That's a masters of library science, or a house in Houston, for those just tuning in. Here are a few more pieces of information to help your decision: 1. I am very, very good at school; 2. I really like books and databases a whole lot; 3. I am tired of renting, and houses in the East End go for just over $100k.

Lana, I wish you were here. How do we feel about home-owning?

Go!

Road Trips, Brit-Brit Style

Before the long drive home, I fueled up on gas and diet coke predicting "holiday" traffic. To my dismay, the diet coke and the pre-trip coffee necessitated bathroom stop #1 in "Italy"--which worked out ok, because I picked up a gingerbread latte.

Stop #2: Taco Bell, somewhere near Buffalo.

Stop #3: "Rest stop" before Huntsville, in the middle of 20mph stoppage.

Trip total: five hours, 23 minutes. I passed a few smashed up vehicles, and was thankful not be be riding in any of them. The sun came out in The Woodlands, briefly, before setting. The iTrip worked on this leg, which is to its advantage because I was about to return the thing along with my $200 "investment" after it crapped out on the journey up.

This may be a stereotype, but I find that the trucks advising me to "support our troops" are the ones most willing to risk an intimate encounter with my bumper during high-speed travel. I would like to gently remind them to support the two second rule. Three is even better.

I hope you and yours had a very Britney Snacksgiving, as well.

Jan Svankmajer

This guy is amazing:

(Minute 6:00 through the end not entirely safe for work, in a hilarious nudie claymation sort of way.)



This piece reminds me a bit of this guy:


Naked people!

More videos.

Modern Romance

me: hey--go to itunes
and listen to
"i can't feel my hands any more"
right now!!!
with me
and then, hold mah hand.
...

Jason: hey!
ima doing it! hold on.

me: :)
you can have one of my ear buds

Jason: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
i am going to die.

me: O--|< O--|<|
that is you and me
lyin' in a park
{p--------------[ ]------------------p}
sharin' buds
that's the pod and our ears

Jason: dang, you beat me to it.

me: (p-----------[i]--------------p)

Jason: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
holy cow, man.

me: don't say anything for a sec
O--|<
O--|<|
better!

Jason: is that you with the skateboard?

me: i am wearing a skirt

Jason: :)
O--|>=
whoops!
i just made you flash some people walking out of the menil bookstore.

Things I Like, That Are Green

1. My new purse. (Much sexier than pictured.) It is soooo great. I have been looking for a new purse, unsuccessfully, for months. I was just about ready to enlist help and spend upwards of $100 when there it was--staring at me at the thrift store behind the counter--for a tenth of the price. No bows or frills or stupid buckles, just smooth crisp leather with interesting detailing. It is a "Strada." It transports my laptop, wallet, keys, cell phone, cosmetics, the works. It is totally me.

2. Celerey. It is both lo-cal and hydrating. And cheap. And I can dip it in stuff. And I like the crunch. Yay celerey!

3. Olives. They look pretty in a martini, or as a pre-dinner snack. And I think Greece is pretty cool. Also, I was totally anti-olive until a few years ago, and now I hear people say, "I don't like olives" and I think, "That's crazy talk!"

Making Amends

1. Today, due to luck 'o the parking spot, I found myself back at Taquito, which royally pissed me off last time over a misunderstanding of the fundamental components of a torta. I thought perhaps the meat could be optional, given the myriad of other ingredients; they thought differently.

So I saddled up and braced myself for another encounter with "Hugo" and ordered straight off the menu this time. I've been craving the frutas, see. It was tense, but fine, up until the point where in my nervousness I realized I'd forgotten to tell him "to go" and he got all huffy and rolled his eyes at me and left for the kitchen without a word.

SUCK IT, HUGO. You are a big jerk. Why don't you go fix yourself a michelada and chill the eff out. Make one for me, too. TO GO, please.

2. When I returned from work, a mystery neighbor asked if I could jump start her car. Which I proceeded to do. In heels. SEE, NEIGHBORS? I am cool. You should invite me to your pumpkin carving parties.

Podded

My new toy is giving me buyer's remorse.

I finally bought an iPod because I bought in to the premise that it would revolutionize my life: the Pod will make you smarter and well-informed, the Pod will make you musically mobile, the Pod will streamline your entertainment management and eliminate piles of scratchy CDs, the Pod will STOP AIDS if you buy it in a certain color.

One day, the Pod may do all of these things for me and more, but for now it comes with a list of demands before I can use it to its full potential:

1. Action Jacket
2. Car Adaptor
3. Noise-cancelling headphones

These accessories are essential for the following reasons:

1. If I look at it funny, it will leave a scratch
2. I only really listen to music when I'm driving
3. My ears must be horribly misshapen, because the earbuds don't seem to fit me, they fall out, and if I can manage to cram them in there for any length of time, my neighbor on the airplane can hear everything that I can in full stereo sound.

Also, according to the Action Jacket, I now have to take up jogging.

Give me a break!

I just wanted to hear This American Life, and it ate my podcasts.

It ate everything else, too, after three hours of feeding it music, because I don't understand what "sync" means.

At the risk of sounding anti-technology and totally square, I would just like to point out that books don't pull this kind of shizz, and they are portable, too.

(Though not as conducive to driving.)

The Buck Eye of Texas Is Upon You.

My last two drafts have been too negative. So, you don't get to read them.

And, I have to break the cycle.

So here is this!



It is a Buckeye!

What do you do with it?

You are supposed to hold it in your pocket for good luck. It does not appear that you can turn it into a butter or jam or crack it open and eat it.

You can use it to make pulp!

This is the worst Mascot ever!

Yours,
Mary

Note to Self, Work on Listening Skills

me: help, i am trying to think of a word that means "opinion based"
like, it's not standardized, it's ________. i am thinking of "subjunctive" but that's not it

k: hummmmmmm
subjective.......
??

me: if someone were grading a test and there wasn't any criteria, you would say that the grade is _______.

k: this test is dumb. multiple choice please.
hahaha
sorry..........i am of no help

me: or, if you're trying to get a book published and they don't take your book but they pick someone else's book, it's because the decision was _______.
bahhh. dictionary and thesaurus.com aren't any help, either

me: subjective!!!

k: hang on. my coworker was in the Honors program. if he cant help with this.......what good is he.
hahaha

me: oh my god you said that way up there

k: hehe

me: i thought you were just repeating my wrong word

k: ahhhhh!

Amazing Advancements in Medicine and Personal Health

Let's talk awesome cold products for a minute. The general default for me is "NYQUIL--IMMEDIATELY," but for whatever reason I bypassed the stuff this go-round. I guess I worry about feeling groggy in the morning, or sleeping through my alarm clock. And Dayquil makes me loopy, so none of that this time, either.

1. Emergen-C
I drink this stuff on a regular basis, cold or no cold, and it makes me feel full of vitamins and fizz and awesome. I usually get the regular vitamin C stuff, but I also bought a box of the "Immunse Defense" forumula, which is pretty great if you don't mind the zinc taste.

2. Vapo-Rub!
Ahhhhh Generic Vapo-Rub. How long have you been living in my medicine cabinet? How long have I have overlooked your amazing menthol camphor stealth bombers ready to dive in and dynamite through all the junk in my face? Also, I know the bottle says do not use near mouth, but a smear of this stuff across the upper lip feels pretty amazing on a sensitive nose rubbed raw from too much tissue use. I woke up in the middle of the night from a coughing fit, and this stuff on my chest and nose put me right back to sleep.

3. This is not a cold product, but let's talk prescription-strength deoderant. You put it on AT NIGHT. This means no more white lines even from the "disapearing" formula (aka disapearing from my body all ovah my sweater). I am intrigued, but I sort of worry that I am rubbing cancer directly into my underarms each time I use it. I smell great, though. What do you all think?

Cat Blogging, and Travel

Tonight, we ran out of cat food.

At 8:03 pm, I left my home to buy cat food. Because I was afraid my cat might perish. By my own hands.

She's persuasive, that one. She'll never starve if I'm around and conscious.

This alone does not make a whole blog entry, so here's some other stuff:

I have become an expert in the Houston - Denton commute. I know where the Starbucks are (Huntsville and Italy), I know where to stay in the left lane to avoid slow-accelerating on-rampers (Huntsville), I know where the traffic jams live (Conroe, 35N) and how far I can travel out of each city and still pick up NPR. I know where to find a Sonic or a Wendy's on the way up and the way back, or a Jack-in-the-Box breakfast sandwich or mint milkshake. I have a special stretch that's just for singing. I drive really friendly, for 4.5 hours. I know how to drive under a big Texas sky, and I know how to drive in the rain. I always wave to Sam. The more I do it, the more I wish that this were a marketable skill. See also: crossword puzzles.

In two weeks, I'm headed to Columbus, OH for a week. I chose my flight based on miles, and a non-stop flight. I'll never do a stop-over again, if I can help it. I fear take-offs and landings just as I fear on-ramps. Certain on-ramps in the state of Texas are crazy suicide missions: you have to get up to speed immediately, in a sharp turn, because there's no merge lane and the rest of the traffic is going 70. I turn off the AC, gun it, and cross my fingers--or else I find an alternate route. (Nobody tell my insurance company I said this.)

So what's there to do in Columbus, OH? Who wants to watch my cat?

(Do you see how I tied those two topics together? A+ in blogging, friends.)

Sumo!

Baby, put the camera down and help me up please.

Are You There, Flag? It's Me, Margaret.

See what you miss by being out of the classroom for awhile?

They went and changed the Texas pledge.

I had to post a link or else some of you would think I am making this up.

"Honor the Texas flag; I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas, one state under God, one and indivisible."

God's like, "How many times do I have to tell you that I love all my children equally? Now please stop picking on Mexico."

They might as well add "Hook 'em horns; second amendment; suck it, California" in there too, to make sure every school kid knows exactly what we stand for.

An Object In Motion...

Here are a few random tidbits:

-I went to a really random dinner tonight. I didn't expect a dinner, I expected wine and cheese and a sales pitch. Nonetheless, I was treated to salmon, beef, small vegetables, the whole nine yards. I do not think I was the target audience for this dinner, and I'm having trouble discerning who was, and why I was invited. This makes me question the entire nature of the for-profit industry, and appreciate again why I do what I do.

-That said, we held our own wine and dining evening last week, albeit for a much heftier price tag and a much more apropo audience. A lot of people spoke. There was a lot of talking. The consensus is: it was great.

-I don't do so well on the weekends without you, dear. I have trouble getting up, getting dressed, getting showered, getting out of the house. Weekdays: no problem. I'm a firecracker. I wouldn't think so much into this if it weren't wired into my system; I'm programmed to be strong, independent, individual, and to believe that soulmates are a load of crap. I believe that people adjust to a variety of different relationships, and that our futures are a tree of opportunity, each branch leading to a different sort of happiness.

-I am happy I spend my time with you, my co-workers, the students of Houston, the policymakers, the teachers, the people who care about education and have seen the possibility that every child can achieve, the supporters, the people who write checks, my friends and family in Houston and elsewhere.

-I recognize and acknowledge that this could all look very different. I could have different catchphrases, a different job, different constituents. So much is based on experience and mine was dumb luck. I could be wildly passionate about New Orleans, or San Francisco, or Portland or Washington DC. So much of our passion goes into who we know, what we do, where we live, and that root--that always present root of family.

-But here we are. And you are here with me, in short. And I am grateful that you know who I am, and are willing to forgive a weekend or several spent in solitude, trying to figure it all out. I am grateful that you will pull me out of it, back into the commotion and the din and the obligations that keep me sane.

-I could end here. I have the tidy summarizing sentence. But I'm leaving something out--I'm leaving out religion, which keeps skipping to the top of my head, even as I push it down again and again, thinking, "my work fulfills this for me." I wrote to a popular UU blogger and asked her two questions: 1. Am I somehow missing out by not attending a weekly church service? and 2. How do I incorporate what I do and what I believe?

-She wrote: "I think it would be spiritually and professionally beneficial for you to be involved with a congregation. Where better to practice the arts of love and to know and be known? Congregations are always flawed and the worship services certainly vary in quality, but we go for the relationships and for the opportunity to encounter the Holy through our being together. Not that this doesn't happen in teaching, but whereas in teaching you can be the Hero at all times, in church we all take turns being the teacher and the student. I think that balance is important.

And just think how much networking you can do through UU congregations as an active member! You can write for the UU World magazine, preach from your local pulpit, contribute to chat lists, network at denominational gatherings, and combine your vocation of teaching with your involvement with the church. What a great opportunity!!"

...

-She is a little bit off (it is so difficult to explain what I do), but mostly correct. Watch out hippies, I'm headed your way. My personality profile says that we are very unlikely to be religious leaders of any kind. And yet. Isn't that the point of any writer? Don't we all want to inspire and lead a movement? Isn't everything we do inspired by broader human ideals and desires?

-I just postponed a phone call to finish this blog. I am finished, and I have likely gone on too long.

-I'm going to a conference tomorrow wherein I most definitely am the target audience. I paid $25 for a box lunch and program, and I expect at the end of the day it will all feel very logical, worthwhile, and correct.

-Don't take so long to visit, next time. I need you around to keep me from these spells. It's terribly easy to forget what a difference you make in my life.

Really?

These commercials about "don't leave your keys in the ignition of your car or the car thieves will take it"?

Who does that?

And why are we telling them to stop?

Carwinism.

Dear KTRU DJs,

Hey guys!

Y'all are doing a great job. Thanks for playing music I enjoy and introducing me to new bands. Your radio station is one of my favorites.

It hasn't always been this way.

When I first moved here, someone told me to check out KTRU--so I did--and you kept playing this spacey squawky really inaccessible stuff. I was like, bleh. But something changed! Maybe new leadership, maybe new DJs, whatever... we like it.

I even enjoy your often humorous inclusion of public services messages. Maybe you could include my organization, too? The kids might want to know when application deadlines are, and we certainly want them to apply.

Here's one thing that keeps bugging me, friends: it's Neuhaus pronounced NIGH-house, meaning "near," not the horsey noise. As in taps, "...all is well, safely rest. God is nigh." It's not pronounced "Newhouse." Seriously, I've heard three of you say it. I know many of you have this cute, "I don't live in HOUSTON; I go to RICE" visitor thing going on, but this family is kind of a big deal. There's a street named after them and everything, like the Kirbys and the Allens.

You can go visit them at the Glenwood Cementary, along with some of my relatives, apparantly.

That's the only complaint I can come up with, so keep up the good work.

Yours,
Mary

Who Are All These Marleys?

That's right--I'm askin'.

Bob and Ziggy and Stephen?

Are they related?

Are there more?

Are you excited for the Indigo Girls at 7:30?

I am!

I hope they play some old songs.

Priceless Moments from the ACL Live Feed

M.I.A. says:

"I need some people up here on stage. I need some people who are going to go effing crazy. Security! Let them up. Whoever--come up. You leaders. Come up here on stage."

Her buddy says:

"Bring some ganga!"

Minutes later, the crowd storms the stage, nearly pushing off pink clad singer.

M.I.A. says:

"Okay! Thank you. You have get off now. Nobody can see. Go back. You have to get down."

Friend says:

"All of these people and nobody brought weed? Are you effing kidding me?"

See the play-by-play here all weekend. Expect adult content, and possibly Bob Dylan.

Two Years Ago

Two years ago today, I was packing my books in the closet, duct taping windows, tossing some water bottles in my car and making a frantic exit from Houston to try to beat the traffic to Austin.

Suffice it to say, I did not. I did call Ryan Johnson at least nine times from the road, every hour, on the hour, as I sat immobile on Route 290 inching towards Gomorrah Austin City Limits. I wish he had saved those phone logs, as the 3am ones were really some of my finest narrative moments.

There, in Austin, I proceeded to be beat down by 100 degree weather, sleep deprivation, a bungled set-up, festival-goers who would rather see Phish than Spoon, and a Black Sunday quality dust storm.

I returned to the well-documented Houston Hurricane Rita damage.



And I turned out ok.

This is all to say: Humberto, you sissy tropical storm, you don't scare me. Bring it.

Pew Pew Pew!

Amazing fuzzy foot.

In the News

I don't post this stuff very often, but it is really exciting when it happens.

Houston KPRC

002 Magazine

Time

Time, AGAIN.

Fortune

US News and World Report

Cobert Report

MSNBC

BuisnessWeek

Today, I searched for alumni in the San Antonio area, and out of 30some alumni, do you know what I found? A principal, a researcher, a leader of a national non-profit, an NPR school services director, teachers, school founders, charter school teachers, an attorney, a child psychiatry specialist with the federal government, and a lot of people in grad school. A small subsection of alumni, executing the diversity of careers we hope they will untake. This is what I do--I raise money and awareness for this program--and it excites me every day.

And tomorrow is September 11. And the day after that? Is REID WHIT---- DAY. And I will bake a cake, and be proud. These are my friends, making education history. There has never been a better time.

Wait, What?

Twin Peaks fans get to revisit Laura Palmer's father in The Reaper this fall.

Ray Wise plays... wait for it... The Devil.

IMBD says he was also in a 2005 episode of West Wing, "La Palabra." Will have to revisit that one.

Feeling Only 50% Taquito

I have spent many wonderful meals here, which is why this is not a full-fledged boycott.

BUT. But. Taquito--you are on thin ice. There's no rational reason why you can't make me a torta sin carne, and no reason at all why you can't be nice about it. And the icing on the cake: winding up with a sandwich CON carne? Que pasa? One beef sandwich with extra spite and a side of disillusion, please. Thanks.

I found myself today unsuccessfully fighting for an avocado and bean torta in a linguistic argument akin to my college years when I was instructed to ask for a *CHEESE quesadilla if I didn't want the chicken, dummy.

And holding up a line. And feeling like the only sane person in a sea of ridiculousness. And afterwards, shaking like a leaf and feeling a deep need for validation. I'm right, right? I'm right! No, listen to what happened...

And, it will probably not be the last time I'm left feeling shaken in the take-out line.



*queso means cheese. cheese is inherent to the quesadilla. chicken is not.

Worth Repeating

Homage To A Government

Next year we are to bring the soldiers home
For lack of money, and it is all right.
Places they guarded, or kept orderly,
Must guard themselves, and keep themselves orderly.
We want the money for ourselves at home
Instead of working. And this is all right.

It's hard to say who wanted it to happen,
But now it's been decided nobody minds.
The places are a long way off, not here,
Which is all right, and from what we hear
The soldiers there only made trouble happen.
Next year we shall be easier in our minds.

Next year we shall be living in a country
That brought its soldiers home for lack of money.
The statues will be standing in the same
Tree-muffled squares, and look nearly the same.
Our children will not know it's a different country.
All we can hope to leave them now is money.

1969
Philip Larkin

Siren Song

August thunderstorms in Houston can get pretty intense, as I experienced last Friday at 3am. I'm not sure which woke me first: the lightning flash, the loud clap of thunder, or all the car alarms in my neighborhood going off at once. Regardless, they continued this apocalyptic trio for the next half hour or so, while I cowered under the blanket, too afraid to leave my bed.

The next morning, I share my fear that maybe Al Gore is onto something, maybe global warming is coming and it is taking no prisoners. There have always been storms, but these feel closer, less stable, louder.

So here's a tip for bad weather driving in your environmentally-conscious Prius, or whatever: when driving in hazardous conditions, when the rain is sheeting down and you can no longer see the car in front of you, put on your hazard lights. Soooo obvious, right? I would never have thought of this until it happened to me, and suddenly the car in front of me started flashing like a beacon. I did the same, and the car behind me, and suddenly we are a team, helping each other through the storm.

You and me and all those people we sort of wish would get off the road? We can be each other's beacons. Something tells me we're going to need it.

Something Rotten in the State of Guadalajara

This is a public service announcement brought to you by the Fruitcake Brigade, because you deserve the very best in hot sauce.

A few weeks ago I went looking for more Valentina to replace my trusty bottle. The local Fiesta was completely out, as well as two other grocery stores. I use this stuff on just about everything: tacos, quesadillas, beans, chili, etc. It is just that good. Spicy and tasty without burning your mouth or detracting from the flavor of the dish. I especially like it added to some refried beans with avocado slices on top. It is pretty standard in most authentic Mexican taquerias, and I found it suspicious that all the stores would be completely out.



The taqueria guy confirmed my suspicions this weekend and said all sales are being discontinued in the US. Jason--my enchilada partner in crime--found some bottles on clearance at the Denton Sack n' Save and so we stocked up with enough to last through 2010: the expiration date.

Whether this turn of events denotes the demise of Valentina completely, or is just a bargaining tactic by Mexico in the on-going immigration policy talks (yo, we were just kidding about the wall), we humbly suggest that you buy some now before it's gone.

Also, I am not above exploiting the situation, and I will sell you a bottle for $20.

Wishing you all salsa buena, mis amigos. xxoo

Antidisestablishmentarium

I read the crossword puzzle clue wrong this morning:

"Baby's first word, sometimes." 11 LETTERS.

That's one hella verbose baby.

Things That Are Funny/Painful

1. When I have a rubber band around my wrist and the cat grabs it with her teeth and snaps it.

Things That Make Me Feel Smart/Dumb

1. Geosense.net

Find the city and country on an unlabelled map faster than your opponent. Try not to cry when you get the continent wrong.

2. Washington Post.com daily crossword

Will Shortz documentary recently informed me that if I wish to be anyone of intellectual status, I need to start doing the NY Times crossword puzzle, stat. Guess what? NY Times crossword people saw the same damn documentary and started charging $$ for access. Wash Post it is.

3. Harp Tuesday Trivia

Best $3 I've spent in some time!

4. Strange computer error messages

Local area connection connected... unplugged... connected... unplugged... wtf?

5. Blokus

Eff you, Mensa!!

Product Marketing About Which I Am Dubious

"Locks in moisture"

"Adjusts to your skintone"

"Prevents unsightly __________"

"Cleans your whole house and everything in it"

"Ions"

"Age defying"

"Homeopathic PMS tablets"

Best. Weekend. Ever.

Paddleboats!





Planes Coming Out of the Sky!





Bubbly Fountains!



Red Hot Art @ Houston MFA!



Lunch Films @ Aurora!



Plus! Plus!

Rudyard's! Brasil! Micheladas @ 100% Taquito! Poison Girl! Michael! Stacy! Deadwood! Oishii! Dunkin Donuts! Sunday Nights! Blue Bonnet!

That is a lot of well-deserved exclamation points, my friends. And I'm not telling you half of it.

O lente, lente currite noctis equi!

Photo Update

Txt Me L8r is full speed ahead!

See our pictures here.

I just returned from Denver, CO, where all things may be blamed upon "the altitude."

I would like to go back, when I don't have a work agenda. Would you like to go with me?

Also, I have the best job in the whole world.

"A few of my favorite friends from the history of mankind..."

(click on picture for enlarged view.)

I think this is pretty wonderful.

Soundtrack to Our Fourth of July

"Awesome!"


"Woooowowowowow!"

Thanks, J.

The Secret about Getting Things Done

My mom told me to watch this movie, and I was like, Mom, you always point me to these hippy dippy new age films and I really don't like them and then we're forced into this "you just don't understand me" dialogue when really I'd rather just be watching a Stephen Sondheim musical with you, because that's pretty weird, too, right? But we both love them so I don't care.

The Secret is about the power of positive thinking, and how you have to visualize yourself possessing everything you want SO MUCH SO that you truly believe you have already achieved this goal. Say, for example, you want a schmancy sports car (one that your rotten thieving neighbors won't break into... no, stop it Mary, stop it! Those thoughts are BAD): you have to sit in a chair, and pretend like you are driving the car and make vrooom vroom noises and BE the sportscar (like that song in A Chorus Line; can we go watch A Chorus Line, Mom? Trust me, it'll be great) and eventually The Universe will pick up on these signals and viola: car.

And the thing is: I do believe it. I really do. I think if you go around acting like you are driving your sports car for long enough, somehow you will acquire that car. Or whatever it is you want. I do believe in some sort of interconnected magnetic field created by human thought that affects, and responds to, our physical, emotional, and spiritual surroundings.

HOWEVER. I also believe that in order to get what we want through this method, The Universe requires us to spend a large amount of our time driving invisible cars and looking ridiculous. I am not willing to spend the majority of my life looking ridiculous, no matter what the cost.

That's MY secret. I also do ridiculous things all the time (inadvertently, even!), so what the Hell do I know.

I'm being too hard on my mother. She's actually a very inspiring, kind, intelligent woman and The Universe had better be nice to her or we are going to have words.

Case in point: I recently sparked an interest in this book Getting Things Done, which I spotted on my boss's bookshelf. I have not, lately, been Getting Things Done, so you can see how this book would appeal to me. I have been Getting Things Started and Doing It Halfassed, but neither typically brings much satisfaction.

Getting Things Done is this organizational system designed to free your physical and mental in-box so that you can focus on the task at hand without worrying that other things will fall by the wayside. In a nutshell, start here: take every single piece of paper on your desk and stick it your inbox. If there are tasks that are not written down, write them on a sticky note and put it, too, in the inbox. When all things are clear, sort through the pile--take action on anything that takes less than 5 minutes, file the things that require no action, and assign an actionable next-step to everything else. Then, maintain.

This is overly-simplified, but that's the jist. Simple, right? The thing is, I learned this when I was like, 8, and didn't want to clean my room. My mom taught me to make my bed, and then put everything on my floor on the bed. Vacuum, and then put everything in a place that makes sense. (No, not the closet--that's cheating.) Getting Things Done back then was Don't Make Me Ask You Again Or I'll Give It All To Goodwill, and it worked.

The thing is--this whole Secret theory reminds me of a Joel Osteem sermon I read about a cruise ship. Guy saves up all year to go on a cruise, and because he has spent his entire savings on the trip, he can't afford to eat and so he brings his own suitcase full of crackers. Eventually, someone catches on and asks him why he's not joining them for dinner. "Because," he says, "I can't afford it." "Don't you see!" says the friend. "All of this is for you! This delicious food is provided for you!" Moral of the story (do you think you know the moral? Because I did. I thought it was a sermon against gluttony) is that GOD has provided you a feast on earth, yours for the taking!

That The Universe will respond to the energy created by human need, to compassion, to prayer: this I believe. That it is all for ME? That it can be TRAINED to my personal desires? No, thank you. Followers of Joel will tell me that I'm not getting it right, I don't understand--Jesus is all wrapped up in there--and they're right, I don't understand.

When I want religion I just want to sit quietly for a time. I don't want to spend energy thinking about things I want and pretending I already have them. In these times, I am hoping that The Universe will help me understand what I want and how I can be good to myself and others. And how to get it done.

This was long. Thanks for reading.

What Does Sleep Look Like?

I posted about this communal art project, and already took a warm-up shot.

Adrenaline Logic

It's the backwards impulses that run through your head when you're startled out of sleep, before you finish waking completely. Let's say you leave your door unlocked and your friend Lana comes in and wakes you up from your nap, and you see her and start screaming, and you recognize who she is and you still scream some more.

It's the logic that makes us try to answer the alarm clock, or bang on a ringing cell phone to make the alarm stop. And the early-morning contracts we make with ourselves that go something like this: "I can sleep for 5 more minutes and then I will get up, unassisted."

Or when you're startled out of sleep at 2:45am by your car alarm going off, and you look out the window and see a car driving away and your lights flashing and you think, "[expletive], I have to make this stop before it wakes my neighbors up," and you run around to find your keys and it stops, and then it starts up again spurring a new round of adrenaline logic, and you finally find the right button to push and you're standing there, on a chair looking out the high window at your car and breathing heavily and think, "whew, that's over" and then you get back in bed.

And waking up some more you think to go back to the window and look and look and finally realize--is that glass?

Jokes On You

So, you have returned to finish the job.

My CD player doesn't even work.

But, enjoy.

No Autographs, please.

I win! My first/only art show!

On Friday, August 24, both Jason and I are participating in the annual SPIN party co-hosted by Aurora Picture Show and the Houston Center for Photography.

"Co-curated by Aurora Picture Show and HCP, Txt Me L8r explores the potential for distributed creativity through the use of cell phone technology. Artists and the general public are invited to sign-up to receive text messages with specific photography assignments sent throughout the course of the exhibition. Participants will use their camera phones to complete the assignment and upload their results to a photosharing site which will be video projected as slideshows in HCP´s galleries. Combining crowdsourcing with networked communication, Txt Me L8r invites artists and the general public alike to adapt new technologies for spontaneous, geographically-dispersed collaboration. "

You can come, if you want. I guarantee Zoo Zoo on the big screen in her modelling debut.

We don't have a camera, these days, so the camera phone rules.

Artistic expression on a deadline rules.

Whose idea was this party, anyway? That would be Debi*. Debi rules most of all.


*Three years ago, that is.

In Case You Were Wondering...

Extreme Karaoke TV-Face-Off!

	"The Singing Bee"	"Don't Forget The Lyrics"
Song Choice	Luck of the Draw	Contestants choose from eight genres and two song choices per genre.
Host Qualifications	Joey Fatone lip-synced his way through N'Sync	Wayne Brady knows all about improv-ing lines from Whose Line is it Anyway and 30 Rock
Accompaniment	Live band; professional singers sink the bulk of songs (hahaha! I wrote sink! I meant sing! I'm going to leave this typo as is.)	Live band; contestant sings bulk of song with karaoke machine
Quality of Singing	Bad, but brief	Bad, and lengthy
Anal-Retentiveness	"No, I'm sorry, the line is not 'your desire,' it's 'AT your desire.'" (Audience: OHHHHHHHH.)	"Is it 'get' or is it 'earn'? Oh gosh, I don't know. Maybe we should go to a commercial break."
Time-Fillers	Disco dancers dressed in bee costumes boogie down on stage; band leads audience in weird rendition of "I'm So Excited!" (aka the song that caused Jessie Spanno to get hooked on drugs)	The usual reality game show tricks. "Are you sure this is your FINAL answer? Fifty thousand dollars at stake here. The correct.... answer... is... coming up next."
Second Chances	In the first part, you get another chance if your opponent sings it wrong, too. In the finale, you get up to three x's.	There are some lifelines, but we haven't seen any of them in action yet.
Network	ABC	Fox
Contestants	Five random people chosen from the audience compete down to one finalist.	One mousy girl who really likes bugs spans at least two episodes (maybe more?)
Reminiscent of...	That show on the Simpsons reminiscent of Sabado Giagante! with the fat guy dressed in a bee suit.	Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?, minus annoying children; plus annoying backup dancers.
Prize	Up to $50,000; some kind of trophy?	Up to $1,000,000; no trophy.
Maybe We Should Have Thought of a Plan B?	In first episode, five contestants consecutively sing the SAME MISTAKE (see "anal retentive" category) to Bananarama's "Venus." Women everywhere switch to Schick.	Fox refuses to interrupt Monday night's god-awful "On The Lot" show in order to beat out those ABC assholes who air their show on Tuesday night.
You're Better Off:	Breaking out "No Strings Attached" and pretending to sing backup for JT in your living room. Scoff all you want; those songs were effing golden.	Tuning in early for "So You Think You Can Dance" (which despite an unfortunate name is actually good TV) and then turning off the TV. Or turn to PBS. Dear lord, turn to anything else.

Verdict: Everyone loses with these options. Here is a not-so-secret secret I will share with you, gentle readers. Nobody cares if you know the words or not. Get thee to your nearest Spotlight Karaoke, order up a reeeeally girly drink (drink one for me, too!), and hit us, baby, one more time.

p.s. Admire my chart, please. I spent actually more time squinting at those tr's and td's than watching the shows, which says something... not something good, but something.

Here, There, Everywhere

Hey!

Jason took some wonderful pictures from our trip.

You want boats? We got boats.



You want memorials? We got all kinds of memorials.



We got memorials for crimes that ain't even been commited yet.

You want art? I've got your art right here.



Stick with me, baby. We is going places.

Also, a couple of lucky dorks got married. And God showed up to witness it, despite the 2,334,3212,21312,323 other weddings happening last weekend.



Look at that lighting! If that's not the Holy Spirit smiling on Heather and Ernie, I don't know what is.

Earth Day, Everyday

So, on Saturday there was this concert thing. I wasn't really paying attention, but the idea--as I understand it--is essentially to make a huge global stink and raise awareness about the importance of renewable energy and resources.

There's some controversy about the effectiveness of a huge concert series in addressing this issue (and someone in England said, why are they coming here to lecture us? They're the worst culprits of all!), but for the most part, everyone is like--you go, Gore. We like your vision. Rock on.

So today I flip on the TV and catch part of Hell's Kitchen, which is a ridiculous show to begin with, and the punishment for the losing team today? RECYCLING. The winners of the challenge were treated to a champagne limo ride to a glamorous photo shoot, makeovers, fabulous outfits, etc. The losers have to dig through the entire restaurant's trash looking for recyclables.

I seem to remember a project like this in Girl Scouts when I was a kid, and I hated it as much as they do, but I brought it on myself in the name of "volunteerism." On the East Coast, in the suburbs, recycling was an everyday activity. We didn't have to sort through trash because we did it on the front end: soda cans, glass bottles, etc. go in the bin, which gets picked up on Tuesdays.

In the five years since I've lived in Houston, my behavior has altered to meet the city's resources.

Where the eff does Fox get off pushing recycling as punishment? Maybe Al Gore's right, and we need a global mindshift that is more important than raising money. But in my line of work, changing minds and raising money go hand in hand.

Change comes when recycling and renewable energy sources are made available to every community. It will be easy, expected, and mandatory. And that reality will be the one reflected on our "reality" TV shows.

Quit Hating on My Choice Seating

Me: Great news! I just signed in to my flight online and I got the BEST SEATS. The whole airplane is full, but for some reason the row by the emergency exit is empty. You know, the seat with no seat in front of it? With the leg room? So I got them.
Co-worker: Oh God, I hate that seat.
Me: What!?
Co-worker: I'm always afraid I'll flip out and try to open the door.
Me: You can't open the door, actually, but I was thinking more along the lines of leg room...
Co-worker: I'm just sayin'.

Later:
Me: Hey baby--great news! I got us awesome seats on the plane tomorrow.
J: Ok.
Me: You know the seat by the door with no seat in front of it? That's where you're sitting.
J: ...
J: I don't think I understand. Is it near the front or the back?
Me: It's in the middle.
J: Am I next to you?
Me: Of course, you're next to me,
J: I really think I'd prefer an aisle seat.
Me: No, you want this seat. Everyone wants this seat. It's the best seat in coach. It has the most legroom.
J: I guess I'll have to see it. I sort of had a plan. I--no, it's fine.
Me: I guess you'll be thanking me tomorrow, then.

Hey readers! I got these awesome seats! The whole PLANE was full except for the bestest, most choice seating on the plane. And this is from someone who flies A LOT. I know all about the seats in the back that don't recline and smell like toilet, I know about the seats in front of the emergency doors that don't recline, and I know about the short emergency row and the lucky bastard who gets to take advantage of it. Which should be Jason, tomorrow. Unless I kick his ass first.

We All Feel Like This Sometimes

Leo: I'm hysterical!
[max splashes him with water]
Leo: (pauses) I'm wet! I'm wet and I'm hysterical!
[max slaps him]
Leo: (pauses) I'm in pain! and I'm wet and I'm still hysterical!
-from The Producers, with Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder

Some of us just can't identify our physical and mental state-of-being quite as easily.

What Kind of Day Has it Been

Whether you're an anchor for a sports recap tv slot, a White House Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff, or a sketch comedian on Studio 60 Night Live, the answer is probably... not good. And if you're a fan of any of the aforementioned tv shows, it's probably not a good day, either (because you have to wait all summer for new episodes).

Aaron Sorkin recycles all his actors and his episode titles. Like most of his plot devices, I imagine this self-reference is designed to make his fans feel just a little bit smug(ger).

And actually, coming on the tail end of a conversation about creative expression, let's look at the artistic lesson here:

Do one thing.
Do it well.
Do it over and over, and change the scenery each time.

Dear Proletariat,

Hello. It's been awhile.

You're looking slightly worse for wear. Your red walls (which used to intimidate the hell out of me) are looking a little grimy. Your furniture is still chic, but I saw it once in daylight and, goodness, we could use a little steam cleaning, no?

It's ok, this place is about the people. The musicians, artists, and occasional singing fratboys who fill the place on Friday nights for karaoke. The hipsters who lurk, drink, smoke, play Pacman and pool, and play the Postal Service and Bjork from the jukebox. (Let's not forget, it was Bjork and a birthday that saw the birth of this blog.)

I've met, dated, and to various degrees formed relationships with at least a dozen people as a direct result of you. Um, thanks. For all of them, really, though some more than others.

I've laughed, drunk, lost my temper, danced, cried, sung, been moved, been inspired, graded papers, spent too much money, been undercharged, given and received gifts, made resolutions, made out, made things worse and and made things better within your walls.

I am especially grateful for the shows: Crooked Fingers, Ted Leo, the Kimonos, the Watermarks, Spain Colored Orange, Meowcifer, Ume, the Singles, Kiss Kiss Kill Kill, American Analog Set, Stars, Broken Social Scene, Two Star Symphony, Sharks and Sailors, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, and all the ones I'm forgetting. Even when the sound was crappy.

I don't know how much longer we'll get to see each other, because your crowd keeps getting younger and I keep getting older. I don't do a lot of stuff I used to do when we were pals. A friend posted recently about the direct correlation between TV watching and happiness. If I'm watching TV instead of going to bars, how does that impact my overall happiness?

I don't have an opinion on this, really, although caring for my liver and lungs is indisputably a smart move. So here is my open-ended question: how do I incorporate the people I used to share this space with into my non-Proletariat life? What if those people live hundreds of miles away? What if they live only a few blocks?

These are some things I am trying to figure out, Proletariat. Picking up the phone is probably a good start. I hope we bump into each other again, maybe after the smoking ban goes into effect.

With love,
Mary

Your food is ready, and you need some paper towels...

Here is another thing that I don't understand.

We've all likely experienced the vibrating coaster, yes? These are used by food establishments to tell you that your food is ready, that your table is ready, that you are being summoned. And they vibrate. If they vibrate as strong as my phone vibrates, they can shake themselves right off your couch arm and on to the floor.

Except that they are shaped like, and billed as, COASTERS.

Does anyone actually put a drink on these things? Has anyone tried? You let me know how that works out...

New Guy Collides with Soup Night

The scene: check-out line @ Fiesta, new cashier. My basket contains milk, wine, bread, and about a dozen odd vegetables for making Pho.

Ronalfo: [Holds up produce bag] What are these? Are these onions?
Me: Green onions, yeah
Ronalfo: Hey, Tiffany! What's the code for green onions?
Tiffany: 4592
Ronalfo: Ok, and these?
Me: Bean sprouts
Tiffany: 2395
Ronalfo: ??
Me: Oh lord... baby bok choy. You are going to hate me by the end of this transaction.
Ronalfo: Are these "snap peas" or, uh, snow peas?
Me: Ummm...
Tiffany: 3892

Later:
Me: Those are jalapenos.

Still later:
Me: That is cilantro.

This lesson in produce brought to you by the fruitcake brigade. We're coming back for veggie tacos. Study up, Ronalfo.

One Step Closer...

I was pretty nervous about this thing tonight... without giving too much away, there was a person, presenting an award, for which I coordinated, with the presenter having little to no background knowledge about the award/context he was presenting.

So I prepared him the best I could over email in advance.

Meeting him tonight, we walked through the set-up and I asked if he had any questions.

"Who wrote this speech? It's terrific--I didn't have to change anything. Did you write it?"

I'll never be a CJ Cregg, but maybe a Sam Seaborn? Maybe a surly Toby Ziegler? Bring me your states of the union, your states of the state. I'll settle for a state of the block or a "state of my fridge." Hell, we could do a "state of my pocketbook" and I'll tell you about the collection agency burning up my cell phone minutes. But I'd rather write for someone else. The state of this ghostwriter is strong. Here is where you applaud. Not for me--for that guy, up there. Clap for him.

Let's make a resolution to do this every day. Ok, every week. Let there be inspired writing, and let it be delivered by someone else.

Decision Making, Reality TV Style

American Idol/Dancing with Stars: the viewers pick
Project Runway/Top Model: the judges pick
The Bachelor/Bachelorette: a dude/chick picks
Survivor: some jerks on an island pick
The Biggest Loser: the scale picks
Amazing Race: last one home's a rotten egg
Wifeswap/Trading Spouses: everyone wins/loses
Extreme Home Makeover: the producers pick

She Saved Me; He Made Me Bawl

I'd like to make a pact that I will listen to the Writer's Almanac every day, that I will be on the road every morning by 8:40am to catch it on NPR and get to work on time.

Because every now and then they roll out something like Mrs. Krikorian, which wakes me up and reminds me why I do what I do.

Better than coffee; more hazardous for driving.

EDIT: Also, somehow related, but with no additional commentary, this citibank commerical.

EDIT2: Apparantly this post is now about making connections. Louise Gluck.

Crowdy

me:
i am prejudiced against families who can't give their children new names
uh, crap
like mine
if we have a child
we could name him j--- d-----
after your dad AND my dad

Jason: awwww.

me: AND my brother

Jason: weird.

me: yeah

Jason: weird.

me: that's too many people in my kid

Jason: get out!
gtfo!

You Expect This Kind Of Shizzz From Buffalo Wild Wings...

It is so rare to find a free parking spot in a popular lunch destination strip mall, one that isn't reserved for Darque Tan or Neighborhood Cleaners or Fed-Ex. Every now and then, in a bright & shiny moment of serendipity, there is a beautiful gap, and it is for you! Because it is "Reserved for Peppertree Customers"! You will be, in just a few delicious minutes, a Peppertree customer! Without having to hike for it! The parking spot beckons: YOU are the one I have been waiting for--park into meeeeee! Exclamation points!

And then a little man steps into the spot and refuses to move, because he is saving it for his wife. He is standing in your reserved spot. And you can't even bring yourself to put up much of a fight, because it doesn't seem like a very vegan thing to do.

I May Never Buy A House

Hey, people.

You people who know things. Riddle me this:

How much trouble can a person hypothetically get into by ignoring a collection agency that hypothetically is hell bent on collecting a nominal lab fee from a previous doctors visit that I--a person--decided he/she ain't gonna pay? Hypothetically.

I decided I wasn't going to pay it shortly after they started sending me letters that said, "We TRUSTED your doctor when he asked us to run these labs--YOU are a VERY BAD PERSON. Pay Up."

Like. Hell. I. Will. Go whine to my insurance company.

So, people who know things, what's the worst that can happen here? I get a bad smear on my credit report? I get arrested? I get phone calls every morning at 4am for the rest of my life? I marry my equally creditless boyfriend and we live out of a box? What?

Jury of Your Fears

My jury duty started out a-ok, despite the fact that my number qualified me for a day in criminal court #230, vying for a spot of 12 out of 65. Police Officer "Call Me Carl" was jovial and reassuring, cracking jokes with the jurors ("Do you want your pen back?" "You paid for it--you keep it.") and promising a swift and painless day.

Then "Call Me Carl" left us standing in the hallway for two hours outside the courtroom, while a variety of interesting people paraded up and down the hall, and I got chatted up by Roberto who told me how much he loves America.

Two hours, folks... no chairs. By the time he lined us up by juror number, lunch was fast approaching and pissed-off juror stomachs were rumbling.

They finally called us inside ("sit anywhere") only to reveal that we could all go home--in the two hours we were waiting, they had settled 6 out of 7 cases, and the 7th had more work before it would be seen by a jury. Turns out that a lot of these folks, when they realize that a jury is actually lined up and ready to go, decide its in their better interests to let the lawyers settle it up.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that process--the psychology at work: "Don't make me bring those jurors in here--did you see them? They look mean and uncomfortable. But I'll do it, if that's what you really want..."

So this is how justice works. A game of chicken.

Clubs I Am Going To Join

1. The Labyrinth Society
Not, as one might first imagine, devoted to the David Bowie movie of the same name, but PEOPLE WHO WALK IN CIRCLES, FOR FUN AND HOBBY. These are MY people. Plus, there are two of these labyrinths in Houston, and one looks very cool.

The Laby people argue that the labyrinth is symbolic of life's journey. One may choose to walk, skip, twirl, move quickly or stop often for meditation. When I think of all the time I have wasted walking in straight lines, it just makes. me. sick.

2. Raw Food Diet
This is relatively self-explanatory, right? I may never have to cook again! Plus--this gives me a great excuse to buy a juicer. One of the expensive noisy piss-off-the-neighbors juicers.

Upside: OMG crunchy vegetables
Downside: moist nuts? urrrghh....

3. Cartographers for Social Justice


Ok, like most clever things that come out of my mouth, I yoinked this one from the West Wing, and, it doesn't really exist. Which is ok, because I'm gonna be spending a LOT of time on Labyrinthing and not cooking my food (but three seemed like a nice solid number).

Spam-a-Lot

Occasionally, in my work I will be called on to send out mass emails. I don't do it so much anymore, but I used to email 400 people a monthly newsletter and it would freak the heck out of me.

What if there's a typo?

What if I'm sending to someone who requested no mail?

What if they yell at me?

I'm awfully sensitive to not wasting people's time or filling up their inbox with unwanted mail. I'm also very aware that every single recipient is going to have some sort of reaction to my email, whether it's ignoring it, deleting it, reading it, taking action, unsubscribe, forwarding to a friend. I'm aware that some will think I'm crazy, some will think I'm right on, some will be annoyed and many, many will be indifferent.

But, this is important. And so today I sent out 700 emails. 700 reactions. 700 possible responses.

And then, as I always do after hitting "send," I got up and took a walk.

Jury Duty!

I kinda sorta really want to be sequestered.

Operation, Catnapz

Ok. ok ok ok. Okay.

Here we go, "exercising the cat."

Stage 1: Yarn


Next time I will try this with a cotton yarn, as the metallic bits made me a little nervous. This method of cat-er-cize is surprisingly versatile. I can make the yarn wiggle while lying on the couch, or I can go all-out and run/turn around the apartment with a yarn trail behind me. J says, "tell her to make me a scarf while she's down there." Constructed a "yarn maze" using chair and the scratching post (not pictured). Briefly considered tying cat to chair. Moving on...

Stage 2: Bag


The bag toy only worked if I lay on the ground and made little scratchy sounds on the outside. LOTS OF AMUSEMENT when cat uses the bag toy correctly and lunges at the scratchy sounds on the inside. Not so funny when she lunged at them from the outside. Plastic bags (not pictured, because they are annoying and she eats them) seem to fascinate her, but this here whole foods bag, not so much.

Stage 3: Dishes!
After five days of them sitting in the sink, I did the dishes. Insert something here about objects in motion. Also, mysterious stain. Cat did not help wash OR dry.

Stage 4: Catnip


www.bettercatownersthanyou.com says I should provide her with lots of blankets and soft toys. Which I do, but she wants to play with the plastic bags. So I dragged out this cat pillow (I swear to God, that is the intended purpose but its actual use is "dust collector") and covered it in catnip. She rolled around seductively for awhile and is now nesting happily and quietly--but awake. First sign of dozing off, we are going back to the yarn.

Updates to come.
I am thinking I need a laser pointer.
Or a large dog.
And, to never have children.

Playing With The Cat... In Traffic

Ok, I really hate to be that girl who blogs about her cat, but here I am blogging about my cat, right?

The cat is completely nutzo. The cat--after four years--has decided that bedtime is the time to race around, play with things, and meow like crazy. It looks a lot like this. For 27 years, I have traditionally used bedtime to sleep. So, we have a problem.

Turns out this is not unusual at all. According to this blog article, "Who's Training Who?" the answer is to 1. accept the fact that she needs to climb and meow and scratch things and act crazy, and 2. re-train her to do these things in the evening and not at bedtime.

In other words, wear the bitch out.

Rather than letting your cat snooze all evening while you are watching Oprah or Jeopardy, turn off the tube, get down on the floor and play with your cat. Tie a feather or piece of crumpled paper to a length of string and run around the house dragging it behind. Train your cat to climb his scratching post; train him to fetch and run back and forth between you and a friend. Visit your local pet store and look for new and interesting toys for your cat. Make toys of your own. Most cats have a wonderful time rolling around inside a large, open paper bag or box sprinkled with catnip. The "Cat Dancer" toy is also extremely appealing to most cats. Try to tire out your cat early in the evening. This will greatly increase the likelihood that he will sleep at night.

Are you KIDDING ME??? I work all day, and then I come home and I am supposed to EXERCISE MY CAT?

This frequently happens with lonely, bored cats that have an excess of energy and no where for that energy to go. They cannot chase real mice and birds, or climb real trees, so they develop other habits to entertain themselves.

So, like, who's gonna come over and exercise me?

A Moment of Silence

For the Lanablog.

.

.

.

Second in a Series (2/2)

While we're talking youtube, I have to link to some genius Square One videos that Beau unearthed on facebook. (I am on facebook now! I have so many friends. You can search for me.)

Fraction Rap

Wanna Be (by Bobby McFerrin)

Angle Dance

That show was so good. Lordy, why wasn't this stuff around when I was taking Calculus?

Oh, it was?

Intro to Bikini Calculus
(claims to be NSFW, but it's nothing you wouldn't see on any beachfront)

Never mind.

"Nobody has been shot holding a Nutrageous"

My co-worker was telling us about this Michael Moore video, aimed at New York City police officers who shot a black man because his black wallet "looked like a gun."

African American Wallet Exchange Program

Let me be clear, I am a liberal but I am NOT a Michael Moore fan: I find his views extremist, his explanations oversimplified, and his tactics tacky. I've been pissed ever since he made that poor mother cry on screen for 15 minutes in Fahrenheit 9/11.

But, this video is funny.

hey wuz up? nm. just drillin. c u soon!

Mary,
We are making it more convenient for you to communicate with our practice!

We will now be sending appointment reminders via email, text messages to your cell phone, pager, or PDA. Please provide us with your current information and have one less phone call to answer!

When you receive a message by e-mail, click the icon provided for confirmation. Confirm as soon as you receive the first message, and you're done! The other messages will simply be reminders.

We look forward to meeting all of your dental needs!
Dr. Carol

Be the Drop of Water in the Stream

In other words, go with the flow.

Gone Completely Out of the Loop Crazy

Ladies and Gentlemen, a Target story:

Seeing as how this is my first weekend without people around me in a month, it was a challenge to get myself off the couch and out the door, to Target, to buy "some stuff." (This was my mindset going into it; the goal really was to get out of the house.)

And so, in a sort of rotten mood as a result of cat-gone-crazy-howling-all-night, I put some stuff in a basket and hit the checkout line. The first line I tried closed down right before me. The second line was held up by some cash register issue. I'm looking at my other options, when my cashier says, "Don't you be looking around, I'll be done in just a minute." I could have taken offense, but it was said with such charm and so disarmingly that I just chuckled, cheered the eff up, and waited my turn.

We chatted about whether or not I was having a baby (I'm not) because I purchased a maternity top (I did--it's cute!), and my bill came to $95--which seems a lot for "some stuff," and I thought as much at the time, but didn't look at my receipt until I got home.

Before that, though, I stopped by the Salvation Army and TOTALLY SCORED! I bought two cashmere cardigans and a cute handknit top for $20.

And I mention the thrift store because it was in this mindset that I looked at my receipt, saw an item marked "Target PREM" for $16.38, and couldn't figure out what the heck it was. I look in my bags; still no luck.

So here is where the crazy starts.

I call the store, tell them I've been charged for an item I didn't purchase, and I don't know what it is, and they tell me to come back and they'll fix it.

At the store, a bitchy customer service rep listens to my story, says NOT ONE WORD, calls a security looking fellow and gives him my receipt. He goes off with it for probably 10 minutes.

He comes back, tells me I have to return the item in order to get a refund. I explain again that I don't have it, and he says he knows it went into the bag because HE SAW IT ON CAMERA. I'm flabbergasted. I ask him what it was, and he tells me it was some hair product--"like a perm solution?" I tell him listen mister, there is absolutely no way a box of home perm solution went into my bag, and I march over to try to find my sassy cashier. She's not there, but her friends are, and they ask if they can help. They mediate for a minute between me (the crazy lady) and the security man (whom I am about to throttle), and while this is happening one of them thinks to enter the item number into the computer to see what the item is.

"It's not 'perm,' it's Target Premium. Um, whitening strips? Teeth whitening strips?" she asks me.

"Oh.
Right.
I bought those.
I have those.
Ok.
Sorry!
Thanks.
Bye."

And while I am not denying for one minute my complete and sole personal resposibility for this debaucle, would it not have been easier to look up the item number over the phone? Which is really sort of what I wanted?

Lessons learned:
1. Do not let Mary go shopping alone.
2. Do not wear a red shirt on a Target shopping expedition.
3. Check your receipt before you leave the store.

ed. And what I learned is, sometimes you are the only one responsible for the ridiculous things that happen to you. It's ok; you're still a worthwhile person.

I'm going to stay in the rest of the weekend with my teeth whitening strips. Let's hope Monday brings a reason or two to smile.

Teamwork

Jason: every organization needs one of these.

me: fights.
"jason isn't peddling as hard as i am peddling"

Jason: "so what."

me: "i'm sick of pulling y'alls weight around here"

Jason: "mary is steering us in the wrong direction."

me: HAHAHAHA

We Live With Disappointments...

...By celebrating the possibilities to come.

I'm staying between a hotel in another town & my boyfriend's house & a rental car. Am feeling a bit untethered.

Leave a grounding message, please.

p.s. I am sitting at Jason's desk, using his internet cord and he's on the other side on his laptop. He just poured me tea out of a measuring glass. If the cat were here, it would be perfect. Please, someone tell me what this job is and how I get it.

Y'all!

Look where I am staying in Dallas:




Before you get any crazy ideas that my non-profit pimps out all our business trips, let me first explain that 1. I am sharing a room with a co-worker, and 2. somehow this ocassionally happens due to the miracle of Priceline.

Nevertheless, I am bringing an extra bag to abscond with all the Kiehl's. That's right. All your hand lotion is belong to MEEEE.

Get More Music, For Less

I've recently become an iTunes connoisseur of cheap music compilations, and I would like to share them with you. If you use iTunes, you can search for these titles. If you know of any not listed here, I would appreciate you sharing them with me. In my experience, the good music on these albums are well worth the price you pay for the rest (which may or may not be your cup of tea, and any way you'll learn something new). I think of it as money I would put in a jukebox to hear a song once, except you get to keep it. Enjoy.

1. Indoor Picnic Music volumes 1 (16 songs) and 2 (17 songs): $3.99 each
Highlights include...
Volume 1:
Josh Krouse - It Looks Like Love
Jars of Clay - Dead Man Carry Me
Griffin House - The Guy That Says Goodbye To You
Volume 2:
Erin McKeown - Sing You Sinners
maybe others? (no stand outs, but altogether solid)

2. Penny Candy (15 songs) $3.99
The Weepies - World Spins Madly On
[Two repeats from Indoor Picnic Music, rest solid]

3. Credential Recordings Sampler, 10 songs, $0.99
Edison Glass, Future of Forestry, Turn Off the Stars, Dizmas, Lost Ocean

4. Catch Up With... Domino Recording Co., 15 songs, $3.99
Psapp - Hi
Caribou - Dundas, Ontario

5. ReDirection: A Polyvinyl Sampler, 19 songs $5.94
Rainer Maria, Matt Pond PA, Hey Mercedes, AM/FM, Braid, Pele

6. Mile: A Hush Compilation, 50 songs (yes! 50!), $9.99
The Decemberists, Jeff London, Graves, Blanket Music, & lots others

And some people seem to like...
7. Attic Jam, 19 songs, $9.99
The Kooks, Death Cab, Pete Townshend, The Flaming Lips, Rachel Fuller, Martha Wainwright

8. This is What Music Should Sound Like, 12 songs, $5.99
Really? Says who?

But I say NO DEAL.

Weird enough to shell out 10 bucks?
9. The Unaccompanied Voice: An A Capella Compilation, 24 songs, $9.99
Jandek, Modest Mouse, Nikki McClure (really?), Pedro the Lion, Songs: Ohia
Given my background, I should totally be digging this. But, I dunno.

Wantsssss it. But, esssspensive.
10. Old Enough To Know Better (15 years of Merge Records), 61 songs, $35.99
Magnetic Fields, Richard Buckner, Spoon, Camera Obscura, ...And You Will Know Us By the Train of Our Dead, The Buzzocks, Polvo, Neutral Milk Hotel, Crooked Fingers, The Essex Green

Last but not least,
10. FREE on iTunes
Check the front page regularly for three free song downloads a week. Can't argue for the price.

Yours in music downloading,
Mary

Cat Pictures

Lordy, I take a lot of cat pictures.

I had to make an entire flickr photo set of them.

But look!
How cute is she!


Some people have certain opinions about people who take lots of pictures of their cat(s). To those people, I say, whatevs.

Stuck At Work

I think I might blog everyday this week.

We had some afternoon showers and the roads leading out of my building are all floody. Luckily I can see this shizz from my window now before I get in my car and stuck behind some pissed-off rush hour drivers.

So, here I stay.

An update on my car situation--the car is expected to be ready in Dallas on March 31. This weekend, I heard from the selection folks re: my upcoming "tour" (this is what we call the trips people make to go do in-person interviews). I had requested to stay in Houston, but unfortunately there are no interviews in Houston that particular week. My options, as presented to me for the week preceding March 31, were: 1. Dallas; 2. Ohio. I quickly called back and told them "DALLAS, DALLAS! Please don't send me to Ohio" and now we cross our fingers that the timing will work out perfectly.

The best part? I get to see my beau two weekends in a row without having to drive back and forth between them. Super sweet.

Unless I drown their rental car first.

I have a sort of crazy appointment tomorrow on which I will remain mum. Here is me being mum. Mum is the word.

And, I'm not going to say anything about that, either.
Or that.

This is productive, right?

Are You Smarter Than... The Lottery?

The Washington Post just covered the sermon I've been singing for days, blasting Fox's new game show "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader" as the ultimate demise of television game shows, as begun by "Millionaire" not so long ago, and supported by that stupid briefcase game.

Paul Fahri asks, "Have TV quiz-show questions become dumber, and have the shows' rules grown wimpier, as producers pander to ever-lower audience expectations and the viewing public's general intellectual flabbiness?"

What. Yes, I watched it. YES, I knew most of the answers...

The thing is, and I think the Washington Post hits on this, the thing IS... historically game shows are about speed as well as intellect. Jeopardy whips through questions like penny candy. "Are you smarter than..." covered four questions in 40 minutes. That's an average of 10 minutes per question! By the time you hit that mark, you are well outside of the "game show" genre and into the "reality television" genre.

In the reality television game show, we don't really care if he knows the answer. Those type of questions don't require skill; at a certain point, they just require luck. It's like the lotto. Sure, we want him to win. But we're more interested in watching him writhe around trying to figure out what to do than finding out the answer to the question. (Does anyone ever remember the winning lotto ticket number? Nope, but we might remember who won.)

On the other hand, I'll occasionally remark to a friend, "Hey I heard this question on Jeopardy and I thought of you..." but I certainly wouldn't remember who was playing at the time. The reason I would think of one specific person would be due to the specificity of the question: a question about Les Mis, and my friend Heather who loves the story, for example. Reality television game shows would not generally showcase questions to that degree of detail, because there'd be no "oh oooooh oh it's on the tip of my tongue..." suspense involved.

It's interesting, right?
I mean, I'll take Jeopardy, but it's interesting.

Wizard Academy

Her name is Dulcinea, her kingdom, Toboso, which is in La Mancha, her condition must be that of princess, at the very least, for she is my queen and lady, and her beauty is supernatural, for in it one finds the reality of all the impossible.

Hey Austin folks, did you all know about this Wizard Academy place?
Did you know about the FREE wedding pavilion?

I imagine that when it rains, it pours, but when it's a beautiful day outside--like, wow.



Besides, it's hard to argue with FREE!

Bumper Cars

Look what happened to my car!



I was taking my bags out to my car early Monday morning at J's house (this is my monthly "get up at 5am and drive four hours back to Houston" ritual) only to discover that someone had plowed into my street-parked car during the night.

Nothing ruins a goodbye between two people in love like, "Holy SH-T! Look what your crazy-ass drunk/high/acid-tripping neighbors did to my BAYBEEE! Move to Houston IMMEDIATELY!" Except I didn't say that. But I thought it.

At the rental car center, the attendent asked me what happened to my car. I told him. "So, is it totalled?" he asked. "I don't think so," I answered, "and we're not using that word."

"What kind of car was it?" He then asked.

Look buddy, I hear your past tense and I do not. appreciate. it.

Here is where I would normally delve into "it could have been worse..." but I'm not going to today. (Do you hear that, potential business schools? Do you hear my ability to grasp the complexity of a situation?) My CAR! My poor, adorable, battered car!

Maybe I'm Just Feeling Sentimental...

...but Ellen and the whole "we're celebrating YOU for being nominated!!!" thing is really working for me tonight.

She's so damn cute, and the montage thing was super sweet.

First, People Magazine named ME (and all of you) the person of the year.
Then, I am told that I am the machine (and you, too).
Now the Oscars are taking this "you are ALL great" stance.

It sort of makes you wonder why everyone is going out of their way to boost our self confidence this year. YOU are great. You, too! Why, exactly? What favor are you about to ask me to do...?

Snow Day? What?

Yo, east coast, someone get out there with a hairdrier and blowdry me a path, 'cause, Continental willing, I'm comin' to visit y'all...

I spent all day interviewing terrific candidates for this organization I work for. I hope they all become teachers, even the ones who don't meet the rubric.

Also, I did it on the 72nd floor of a downtown building. On the elevator ride up, I determined that I will never work on the 72nd floor of anywhere. One brief glance out the window (and then a whole day spent avoiding windows) cemented this decision.

Going back to my car, we took the underground railroad/mall path, which is a tiny tunnel maze overwhich cars pass; if it's not one phobia, it's another.

I have to go call my valentine. I love him!

Yours,

Slow

Ok, book monthers, here is the deal.

I'm not ready to write a book right now.

Wait, let me explain.

My mother has two stories she ever tells about me, and they are as follows: 1. is a poem I wrote for her in high school (not a story, I guess, but she reads it to strangers at an embarrassing frequency); 2. is something about when I was five and shy and all the other kids were playing on the playground, but I wouldn't go play with them until I felt good and ready.

She claims this behavior is indicative of a bigger personality trend that embraces Mr. Roger's mantra: "I like to take my time I mean I mean that when I want to do a thing I like to take my time to do it right!

I mean I might just make mistakes
If I should have to hurry up and
So I like to take my time
To tie my shoes, to eat, to get dressed,
To go to sleep at night to sing a song for you
And every thing I do."

I used to critize myself ruthlessly for "dragging my feet" about things (why I taught a third year when all my friends were moving on to other things, why I'm not in grad school yet, why it's taken 27+ years to nourish a lasting relationship, why I haven't moved out of Houston).

'Cause, dudes, I am taking my time. Whether it's writing a book or furthering my college education, I will do it when I'm good. and. ready.

I'm not ready to write a book right now, but I might be later. Oh man, it's gonna be a best-seller.

BOOK MONTH SAYS SELF SCRUTINY IS STOOOOOOOOOOOOOPID.

I hope you keep going, if it's something you want to do. I got about 2,000 words out, and maybe 20 of those are quality. It's a good start.

Book Month Tips and Tricks

Or, how to make it work.

If you're aiming for 30,000 words this February, you should be writing approximately 1071 words per day. Of course you can load up on the weekends, and if--like me--your computer lacks a word count device, there are a couple of handy internet ones.

Whalah!

(This java script is also available at the bottom of this blog until February 28.)

Another important component to any project of this magnitude is BACKUP. (As I discovered last night, having a laptop that likes to randomly overheat and turn itself off.)

Lana found writeboard.com, which allows you save your work online and password-protect it so that you can share with your friends, if you're into that sort of thing. This saved me 1,700 words last night. Also, you can access it from any computer--work or home--so you don't have to lug around a file.

Lastly, inspiration. I don't have a whole lot of advice on this one, except to tell you to write what you know, and if, in the process, you bump into something that you don't know: make it up.

Here is an imagination prompt if you really get stuck.

Happy noveling,

What is FruCaFebBoMo?

National Novel Writing Month Fruitcake February Book Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November February 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) 30,000 word (or less) novel by midnight, November 30 February 28.

Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft, NaNoWriMo FruCaFebBoMo is a novel book-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo FruCaFebBoMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.

As you spend November February writing, you can draw comfort from the fact that, all around the world internets, other National Novel Writing Month participants are going through the same joys and sorrows of producing the Great Frantic Novel Book. Wrimos meet throughout the month to offer encouragement, commiseration, and -- when the thing is done -- the kind of raucous celebrations that tend to frighten animals and small children can all get together for a root beer, the next time they're in the same state together.

[Borrowed heavily/plagerized from the National Novel Writing Month, which is a great organization that unfortunately takes place only in November.]

...

Ok, enough of that. You've heard from the Big Bad Book Month demons, and you are not afraid. You want to write a book because it is your story and you are the only one who can write it. You are doing this because you will not become a housepet, you will NOT. There are no rewards except a sense of satisfaction and a big 'ole book. If you haven't committed already, and even if you have, leave a lil note in the comments.

Love from, your unreliable narrator.