American Twentysomething in the hizzouse

Yes! I met Dariush yesterday, up at one of the five million Starbucks that seem to have appeared since I moved.

I had to drive Mom's van, since I have no vehicle and AJ had already "reserved" Dad's truck. (I discovered later that he hadn't even used it by the time I got back.) Mom's van is the size of some countries' houses. I'm not passing judgment that it's excessive or something; it suits her needs. I'm just saying it's big. Driving it is an adventure.

But I arrived uneventfully and headed inside.

There was a guy at the counter who looked a little like the pictures I've seen of Dariush, but for some reason I didn't think his hair was that dark. Still, he was the most likely candidate, so I said, "Are you Dariush?" And he was.

He ordered some eggnog latte thing, I think, and I got a green tea and a cranberry almond bar. We sat at a cute round table and talked shop. He joked about the van being perfect for driving around asking kids if they want candy, and I told him how Mom used to say just that to us when she picked us up anywhere. (My mom is awesome.)

He expressed surprise and dismay that I don't follow Wildcat sports (blasphemy!).

Upon learning that I'm flying home on Delta, he told me the horrific tale of how Delta lost his luggage twice on his recent trip out West--once on the way out, once on the way back.

I told him about James Brown, and how I've been working remotely this week to cover his life, death, and funeral on the station website.

He made some joke about "harder to find than a Lenscrafters at Ray Charles' house". (He used another name there that I don't remember.)

We discussed our Secret Mission, and how I might have a lead. Really, I only have a passing curiosity, but mysteries seem to confound and enrage our dear American Twentysomething ;>

I did not ask him what he's going to do with his blog when he turns 30, although I have wondered.

Interesting Fact: When I arrived, he introduced me to the barista. Did he already know her, from spending so much time at all the Starbucks in the area? Or did he get to know her before I arrived? Both are possible.

Me, I tend not to become acquantainces/friends with people at the places I frequent. There is a barista at R. Gabriel's that I know by name, and I think she recognizes me when I go there, but we don't have conversations. This isn't snootiness on my part so much as a lack of extraversion/social skills. I'm kind of a control freak, and random encounters tend not to catch me at my best.

We talked about Saddam Hussein's death, very briefly, and we talked about our Christmases, and I think that was pretty much it. He suggested that I let him know the next time I'm coming to town so we might catch a game, and I said sure. Then we headed off our separate ways down Nicholasville Road.

It was a good visit, and not much different from talking to him on IM, which is always interesting. Some people's voice translates well from text to IRL, but most of the time there are differences, things you don't pick up from the text. So maybe Dariush is more in tune with himself than most people. Or maybe I'm getting better at reading people through their written words.

In any case, Dariush is the first blogger I've met. I've met Internet friends before, but he's the first I've met through blogging and then met in person. Pretty cool. Hopefully I'll get the chance to meet more blogger friends :)

Solve the mystery!

Who is the blogger I met this afternoon? Here are some hints:

1. The blogger is male.


2. He cannot live without caffeine.


3. I discovered I was mispronouncing his name in my head.


4. He attends my alma mater.

So, did you figure it out?

I'll let you in on the secret when I have time to do up a post. For now, off to Ben's to watch Howl's Moving Castle!

Note to Self

Our fourth anniversary is next Thursday! Don't forget it this year!

:>

I'm lonely ;_;

I'm at my parents' house in Kentucky. Sean came up with me, but he left last night. And you know, I like having him around!

AJ: I don't want no bacon egg and cheese crap! I want sausage!

Me: Sorry, I ate the last sausage biscuit this morning.

AJ: (grumbles)

Me: Well, Sean ate the other two, so share your ire!

What's a "hallow"?

Just curious...

The dictionary isn't helping much. Is this a British thing?

Some Shinichi/Conan faces

Because.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to indulge in Shinichi goodness.

Ahhh...that's better. I've been wanting to do that all week!

(Sheesh, Ran...move your big head!)

Rockin' out to Christmas tunes

I've got the Charlie Brown Christmas music going, in rotation with my fave Nutcracker tracks. My mood? Splendiferous. In just two days, I will be home with my family :)

I would love to learn how to play "Skating" on the piano (as well as the beloved "Linus and Lucy"). Lately I have really been wanting to get a piano again. I even went and checked out digitals at Turner Keyboards a few weeks back.

Hopefully someday I can save up some money for one :) First, of course, will be my new car. (I also want a grossly expensive digital SLR camera...and some lenses...)

But it's a hopeful time of year :) Someday, I'm sure I'll be able to do these things, and more. I just need to remember to do instead of worrying about doing.

Moreover, it's a travesty!

The Lexington Herald-Leader is reporting on some construction I've run into every time I've visited my grandmother in the past couple of years.

Sure, there will be larger classrooms, state-of-the-art science labs, a refurbished gymnasium and an 8,600-square-foot auditorium to seat 500.

But when Bryan Station High School students arrive Jan. 3 to the new $43.9 million building on Eastin Road, many will have nowhere to park. And to make matters worse, they will contend with aggressive tow trucks if they park without permission in the surrounding neighborhood.

"It's a huge debacle," said Blaze Douglas, 17, a senior and student representative on the school's decision-making council.

Okay, let me just stop there.

"It's a huge debacle," said Blaze Douglas

XD XD XD XD

Best. Name. Ever. For someone using the word "debacle", anyway.

Did you know that honey buns have 540 calories?

Jumbo Glazed Honey Buns from Cloverhill Bakery do, at any rate.

Dieting is hard. I drank a Slim-Fast this morning, but that leaves a gunky taste in my mouth, so I wanted something to chew on to get rid of it. The honey bun was the only thing that looked even remotely appealing in the vending machine...but now I've eaten half my daily allotted calories.

Great!

Ah well, I was planning on having a salad for lunch anyway :>

By the way, I'm on TV now

For like...two seconds. It's a happy holidays promo we did at work, and it's pretty cute :) I'd link to it directly, but 1) it won't be online forever; and 2) I try not to directly link to my workplace, or even mention its name. (Have you noticed?)

There are obviously ways for people to find out where I work; that's not the issue. The issue is, this is the internet, and phrases I type may come up in Google results. While I'm much smarter now than I was a few years ago about what I write here, you never know what will offend or annoy people.

So if you do figure out where to see the promo, don't mention it in the comments, or I will have to delete the reference ;>

What a coincidence!

I was on my way to lunch today when Brooke called to tell me something awesome.

Here is a conversation she had with a guy at the place where she picked up her wedding invitations:

GUY: Can I tell you something? You might think I'm weird.

BROOKE: Okay.

[Actually she probably rambled on and on about how she's weird too and everyone's weird and it's totally okay.]

GUY: I think I found your blog!

BROOKE (disbelievingly): Oh really.

GUY: Well, I read this blog called pixelscribbles...

At this point, my brain went "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!", so I can't testify to the accuracy of my recollections. But apparently this guy reads my blog because he likes my photos and he likes that I take pictures of local places, like North Augusta. He found Brooke's blog through my blogroll.

So wow, someone local found and reads my blog! And lately all he's seen is my whining :> I promise, Mystery Local Photo Guy, I will get out and take more photos soon!

A merry, proactive Christmas

I got up at 6 a.m. today.

I tend to wake up a couple of hours before I normally get up, and usually when that happens I'll go to the bathroom and go back to sleep. This morning I was headed back towards the bed when I thought, I have things I want to do today. If I just get up now, I'll have extra time to do them. Gazing fondly at the bed, I added, There's nothing I'd rather do more than climb back in and go back to sleep. I love sleeping. But I'll be happier if I do this.

I don't know when I started thinking in complete sentences, but these days my thoughts are like a novel's narration, or a diary.

In any case, I got up--leaving the bed shockingly unmade--and picked an outfit, then headed out to the living room where Sean was still up and on his computer.

Half asleep, I sniffed the air.

"I got hungry," Sean chuckled. "That's what you smell."

Ah, I thought, ramen.

Setting my chosen outfit in the bathroom, I headed back out to the kitchen and for some reason started doing the dishes. I cleaned out the sink and emptied the dishwasher, and even washed down the stove and counters. Then I went to the bedroom and started a load of whites (and while I was there, made the bed).

Finally I hopped in the shower. By the time I was finished getting dressed and putting my makeup on, Sean had gone to sleep. (These days he sleeps on the couch because less light comes in through the patio doors than does through our bedroom window.) The laundry was still going, so I grabbed my shopping list and headed to Wal-Mart.

I got there around 7 and shopped until 8:15. Not only did I stock up on some supplies so I can cook at home for a change, but I also got some Christmas presents. This year's funds are slim, but I would hate to go home for Christmas empty-handed, and I was able to find some good deals that I think people will like. There are still four people left to find gifts for--the hardest ones, of course. We'll see how that turns out.

The total at the register turned out to be $50 less than I was expecting, somehow, which gave me a serious reason to smile.

The sun had come up when I wheeled the cart outside, but there was fog everywhere. I had to be careful as I pulled out of the lot and headed home, but it was beautiful. The sun looked like the moon through all that fog.

Now here I am, arrived home with plenty of time to unpack everything. I put the frozen food away first, then the rest of the supplies, and finally arranged all the Christmas gifts on the bed in the office/guest bedroom. I also laid out the new cards I bought and pulled out my supplies for signing cards from last year--the ink on the gold pen is probably dry by now, but we'll see. I'm hideously late on cards this year, and I still need to go get stamps, but if I manage to mail them tomorrow, hopefully they won't arrive too long after Christmas.

The other day I was feeling overwhelmed and I thought, Maybe I shouldn't even try to make cookies this year. I have so much else to do. Committing myself to making cookies will just stress me out more.

That may be the case, but I'm not going to call it quits just yet. If it happens this week that I feel up to it, I'll bake some cookies. It would just feel strange not to.

Plus, I've had tins for them sitting around the office for months!

Racist suspect descriptions

From the Augusta Chronicle, though this is hardly the only institution that does this:

Police describe one of the two suspects as a black man, 30 to 40 years old, about 6 feet tall and weighing about 190 pounds. The man also reportedly was wearing a dark blue running suit with a white stripe down the side and had a close-shaved head and was wearing an earring.

The female suspect was described as 30 to 40 years old with short bleached blond hair and acne on her face. She is 5 feet, 8 inches tall and weighs about 130 pounds.

Yes, we can assume the woman is white, but it's not fair that she's not tagged as such when the man was clearly labeled. It implies that white is the baseline and all other "races" are modifications.

It's also possible, from that description, that she is any race, since her hair is dyed. So the description fails unless you operate from the white-as-baseline paradigm.

Where I work, we avoid mentioning race entirely and rely on mugshots for physical descriptions beyond height, weight, and what the suspect was last seen wearing. I don't know if that's an optimal solution, but it's certainly better than this.

The Nutcracker

I have been somewhat out of sorts lately (you may have noticed). One thing that has cheered me a bit is my new copy of The Nutcracker--Dorati's Concertegebouw Orchestra recording. A lot of the tracks are relatively new to me--while I have of course seen the ballet (and would love to go again), there are a few tracks that get the most play, while the rest are known only to the hardcore fan.

When I reached three of those oft-played tracks tonight--the Arabian, Chinese, and Russian dances--I had to smile.

And now I'm to Waltz of the Flowers!

Why do I feel so guilty?

I feel guilt for practically everything in my life. What I do, what I don't do, things that happen to me that I can't control but somehow feel that I should have predicted and prepared for. My guilt is a large part of the reason I gave up on religion--I didn't need another reason to feel guilty.

I could be so much more, I think. I could be helping people. I could be learning new things. I could be making more money. I could master piano, drawing, writing.

I should have prepared for the fire, I think. I should have put important things in a safe place. I shouldn't have borrowed things from friends, and I shouldn't have been so selfish as to take heirloom furniture with me to Georgia.

I'm lazy and disorganized, I think, and I hate myself for it. Everyone else is doing so much more than me. I can't accomplish anything. But I should be. With my talents, I should be doing something. So why aren't I?

Stop obsessing, Heather

You couldn't afford a child even if you could have one.

Bizarre dreams

parents getting a divorce--happy for mom, ending up with a fairly wealthy guy, moving away, possibly investing in his company--later chose not to invest, but still leaving dad. I moved into house with Dad to take care of him, even though it would be a "longer commute" to work.

also in the dream I was driving through a construction site where apartments and shops were going up right across the way from something--dad's house?--and I was drinking a beer, and when I saw a cop I realized I was drinking and driving and freaked out. hid the bottle between my body and the car door. cops didn't stop me and I was relieved. the beer was tasty.

From the No Duh files

CBS News is reporting (though I can't find a link yet) about a survey that found that 95% of Iraqi respondents believe security in their country is worse now than it was under Saddam Hussein.

Gee. You think?

Obviously the country was far more stable under Saddam's tyrannical rule. I don't see how this is even a question worth asking.

What we need to know is how they feel about their lives now.

I think Iraqis probably fear for their lives just as much now as they did under Saddam. Then, the fear of pissing off a known enemy kept them in line. Now, the fear of the unknown, of random, meaningless violence, keeps the people not so much in line, but instead prisoners of terror.

A better, more direct question would be, "Was it worth it?" Because it's the mood of the general populace that will determine the final outcome in Iraq.

I am the only person who hates Flickr

But I do. I hate it.

I hate that when I'm looking at a "set", I can't tell where I am--how close I am to the end.

I hate that the organization is so loose that I can't tell how anything's related to anything else.

I hate that there are seemingly five billion ways to view someone's photos, and I can't figure out why or how I got into the one I'm in, or how to get back out.

Why can't it just have galleries with thumbnails?

I don't know what my problem is, why I don't grok Flickr, but I don't, and I don't want to. I just want to be able to look at photos without trying to figure out how to use the UI, without getting lost.

Everyone just needs to switch to SmugMug.

And I wonder why I'm overweight and feel like crap all the time

"You always have fast food!" my coworker said. "You must know all the places. It seems like every time I come in here you have fast food."

The game

That's how we used to refer to it, anyway. "What's going on in the game?" "Have you checked the game?"

The game was, of course, the AMRN.

Right now a few people with more patience than I are discussing the game, trying to think of ways to revitalize it. The glory days may be unattainable, but it doesn't hurt to set them as a goal, does it?

All their talk has reminded me of the fun I used to have there.

Sometimes I miss that DIRE Wolves game I ran on Tir-na-nOg. It was funny, I named an NPC "Yowai Kaze" (weak/gentle wind) and had a character on the Etrakis with Ventdoux for a callsign (although I think it's actually supposed to be Ventoux...so much for my French).

It wasn't a coincidence, really. Sean named Julien "Ventdoux" after asking me for a translation of "gentle wind". And when I went on to become an Eagle/Arcadia Q-GM, that was the best I could think of for the outcast who talked big but ultimately couldn't hack it and was ostracized from his village. (Which explains, for anyone curious, why he preferred to be called Kahzay. "Wind" is much better by itself.)

I really enjoyed my CO NPC, too...he was no-nonsense, gruff, by-the-book, and a little sad. And of course, he died. Originally he was going to get shot in the face, and I'd planned that for so long that afterwards I sometimes forgot that I hadn't done it. But the way it turned out, he had a heart attack when he discovered he'd been used, and the players didn't give the backstabbers time to do him in quickly.

The Sailor Moon game really shook my confidence in my ability to GM a game, and the latter days of my command of GP4 put the final nails in the coffin. I use too many NPCs, I guide the game too much, and ultimately I can't be objective. GMing my future husband was a mistake that has made me afraid to work with Sean on anything, other than our marriage.

I miss the more innocent days, back before I had so much power. Back when I was just a player. Now that I know what I'm capable of and all the things I don't know, I can't imagine myself playing ever again. And even though it's been ages since I left, I'm still too bone-weary to even attempt to learn the things I would need to learn.

Sean said today that he's been thinking about going back to the game and seeing if he can't get something going.

"Good," I said. "I won't play, but you should. I think you'd enjoy it."

The Reveal

I adore The Reveal.

Kaname finding out Sousuke is part of a military watchdog group.

Chloe seeing Clark's super powers for the first time.

Sinclair introducing himself as Valen.

Mamoru witnessing Usagi's henshin.

Anyone finding out anything. Oh, I love it so.

Sometimes The Reveal can be cruel, like Lana finally learning everything about Clark, only to lose it all when Clark changes time to save her. And sometimes it can just be a horrible tease, like Ran figuring out that Conan is Shinichi, and then being deceived into distrusting her deduction.

But even when The Reveal abuses me, I love it...and I need more.

I dream a lot

Last night I dreamed that the station was taken over by my previous employer, the place where I only worked for three weeks. We all had to move into that building, which somehow instead of being in Lincolnton was now right next door to us. It wasn't everybody, but I do remember that Lynnsey had to go, because she started talking about giving up reporting and taking up a singing career.

None of the actual people I remember from that job were there. One big guy appeared and he was retconned into my memory. "I'm back," I said. He took it well.

But when I sat down to actually do my job, I couldn't concentrate on it at all. I couldn't remember what I needed to do. So I just sat there and thought, Gee, this feels familiar.

There was a subplot involving Clark from Smallville and this powerful rogue being from another dimension. That was the most interesting part of the dream, but I can only remember bits and pieces.

Montenegro?

This Reuters piece is so interesting I'm going to do something I never do and quote the whole thing.

BELGRADE (Reuters) - James Bond fans in the Balkans seem as pleased as any by the darkness and edge of their hero in Daniel Craig's new 'Casino Royale' portrayal, but some cannot suspend their disbelief when the plot gets him to Montenegro.

At one Belgrade cinema, the audience, familiar with the real Montenegro, tittered as Bond and his love interest glide through mountains in the soft-lit dining car of a 21st century express train, quaffing Chateau Angelus, Premier Grand Cru Classe Saint-Emilion.

They laughed out loud when the pair disembark at an impeccable old luxury hotel with valet parking and Bentley limousines, to be politely greeted by spotless, uniformed staff.

Newly independent Montenegro has high hopes for its tourism industry and money is pouring into much-needed infrastructure projects. But most backdrops are as much Socialist-era concrete as old Mediterranean stone, and its railways are antiquated.

Bond's Montenegro was actually filmed at the old Kaiserbad spa in Karlovy Vary, in the Czech Republic and on the well-heeled shores of Lake Como, in Italy. None of the movie's scenes was filmed in Montenegro.

If I'm so smart, why aren't I a millionaire?

There has got to be a good answer to this question.

(I'm afraid I know what it is, too...)

Unhappiness strikes again

Blogger keeps claiming that I can switch to Beta now, but when I go to do it it says I can't. That's what I get for having 2801 posts.

I don't know how Beta is going to work with remote hosting, anyway.

I watched three Full Metal Panic! DVDs last night. I really enjoy the original series. It's got just enough serious and just enough comedy.

At some point last night I was dreaming about FMP, though I can't remember what the plot was, exactly. There was an explosion in the dream and I woke up, and my first thought was something like, "We can't let anyone know this list of children's names." What list? I wondered as I staggered to the bathroom. A list of Whispered? (Maybe it was Santa's Naughty and Nice list.)

I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. For some reason I just kept thinking about our old apartment and the fire and everything we lost. Whenever I do that I get upset and fret about what I might have been able to save if I had thought and acted more quickly. Really, if I had tried to save my computer or purse or anything in the office, I might not be here today. I need to just be happy that I survived. And even if I had managed to grab something, I wouldn't have been able to save all the things I miss now, and I would just be fretting about them instead.

Then this morning when I went to the bathroom I was looking at our bed through the door and imagining myself crunching through fire rubble and finding just the metal parts of the frame, blackened and twisted.

I don't know where all that came from. It's been a year and a half.

My biggest source of depression lately is the slowly dawning realization that I will never live in Japan.

Also, I'm almost 30, and I'm nowhere near a stable household or career. I'm not really doing anything with my life. I do have a job I love and I am learning things there, but when I'm not at work all I do is watch shows on my computer. I still haven't gotten to where I cook frequently, which means we eat out a lot, which is unhealthy and expensive. And I feel like if I want anything to be different, I'm going to have to do it, and no one will help me, and that's just overwhelming.

It's unfair to do this, because everyone's situation is different, but I look at the people around me and am so jealous of their lives sometimes.

Christmas parties

On Friday Sean graciously agreed to escort me to my office Christmas party, held at the Silver Palms Catering Hall in National Hills shopping center.

I ended up working later than I should have, due to trying to tie up as many loose ends as possible, and when I did finally clock out I still had to change. Once I was in my outfit I realized that my shoes were completely wrong. So on my way home I stopped at Payless to see if they had any tall boots.

They did, but not any that would fit around my huge calves.

Wondering what in the world I was going to do, I got home and dove into the closet. I finally just pulled on some hose and sandals, which sounds freakishly horrible, but just trust me when I say that it was much better with the outfit than the clogs I'd been wearing.

Finally we were off. We ended up arriving somewhere around 8. The party actually started at 7, and dinner had already been served, but people were still in line. We found the only open seats next to each other--at a table with the general manager of the station and the head sales guy--and grabbed some plates and loaded them up with pork, chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, squash casserole, and rolls. Sweet tea was already poured at our table.

The food was okay--not amazingly delicious, but decent. The tea was good, and that's always important.

After eating, we did superlatives. Yes, just like high school. Last week everyone filled out a form voting for the most spirited, friendliest, wittiest, most intelligent, neatest, messiest, hardest-working, most dependable, most talkative, quietest, best hair, best dressed, and best all-around employee (male and female for both).

I ended up winning neatest and most intelligent. I guess all that office cleaning and rearranging paid off! As for being most intelligent, I don't know...maybe people are mystified by my job. My prizes were a coupon organizer and a book of sudoku problems.

I actually can't remember which guy was the neatest, but the guy dubbed most intelligent was my favorite weather guy Adam. He comes and hangs out when he can and we talk about the weather (shock) and married life and whatever else. I figure I'm in good company :)

Wes won friendliest, and Travon won best hair, and no one was shocked at all ;)

After that we had the drawing for door prizes. Neither Sean nor I won any of those, but then one of the sales guys, Robert, said "Merry Christmas" and handed us his prize of a Logan's gift card!

I had described Robert to Sean as being "the flirty type, but not in a creepy way" while we were in line for dinner. When we got settled at the table, Robert came up and grabbed my shoulders and made one of his comments--I don't even remember what. So I said, "I just told my husband that you were flirty, but not in the creepy way, and then you had to go and do that!" Teasing, of course. "I ruined it, huh?" he grinned back. And then later he goes and gives us his Logan's gift card. What a guy.

After that it was time for the white elephant gift exchange. People fought quite a bit over the two sets of lottery tickets, and Wes and his girlfriend fought with Adam and his wife over a Rachael Ray cookbook. I actually can't remember who ended up with it.

I started out with a Talking Tony doll from Scarface, but Don took that and I ended up with a shower radio, which no one took from me.

While I was doing that, Sean tried the cheesecake, which he said was "okay". I rejoined him at the table in time to watch Frank from sales sing two Elvis songs, and then they started the music and people started dancing.

Sean and I took that as our cue to leave...it'd been a long night. Even if we were late. Parties kind of take it out of us. So we circled around Bonita and Krusher, who were doing some crazy dance in front of everyone, said goodbye, and headed out.

When we got home, Sean showed me how much he appreciated the outfit I was wearing :>

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to go to another Christmas party. I was on my way home from a busy day: first a salon visit for my regular Brazilian and then my first-ever eyebrow wax (which I think turned out okay), and then a meeting with Robert (not sales Robert, the Robert I used to work for) to discuss the menu guide. We got a lot worked out, and then I headed down the street to Zaxby's to pick up dinner. As I headed down Fury's Ferry to go home the long way (Evans to Lock to Industrial/Belair), my phone rang, and it was the Brookemeister.

She gave me a sob story about how her mom and sister-in-law had stood her up, and would I go to her office Christmas party with her? So I said sure. I ate my Zaxby's at home with Sean, then made sure I was presentable before heading over to Brooke's place. She was wearing a beautiful black dress and looked fabulous! After she made several trips back into the house for forgotten items, we headed over to the Quality Inn on Claussen Road.

The difference between the hotel's reception hall and the Silver Palms was striking. This room was decked out in Christmas trees, and the lighting was low and intimate. There was a dance floor in the corner with strobe and colored lights. I liked the atmosphere a lot better than that of my office party, which was just a huge open room with the lights up all the way, and little to no decorations. The Silver Palms did have real tableware, while the caterers at the Quality Inn--who were actually from Fatz Cafe--simply provided styrofoam, but still.

(I wouldn't take this as a knock against the Silver Palms by any means. I'm sure the individual companies had people in charge of how the rooms looked. You also have to take into account that my office party was a non-denominational "holiday party" and Brooke's was an unapologetic Christmas party.)

Since I had already eaten, I didn't try the food, but it looked pretty good. There were chicken fingers and mashed potatoes and gravy and rolls, and I saw something that looked like either meatloaf or salisbury steak, but I could be mistaken. I did partake of the sweet tea, which was good.

Brooke introduced me to a bazillion people whose names I will never remember. We sat at a table with a girl named Alyssa, her fiance Dave who is former Army, and her mom and dad, whose names I forget. There was also a guy to my right and his girlfriend(?), who was very very late. The biggest character at our table turned out to be Dave, who shared with us some rather interesting terms he'd probably learned in the Army. Sorry, Mom, but I have to share one: "Shut your cock hole." The best part was when Brooke responded to this with, "Wait, guys said this to each other?" and everyone cracked up.

There was a prayer before dinner, and after dinner they did awards for people who'd hit milestones in their years of service. I thought for sure they were going to mention their outgoing records retention librarian, but nothing was said about Brooke and her imminent move to England. I guess 7 1/2 years isn't enough of a milestone :>

After that the dancing began. Brooke went up to attempt the Electric Slide; I watched the purses, like a true wallflower. After Brooke came back, we watched more people dance for awhile. Then a slow song came on and pretty much everyone (who had a date) got up to dance, and Brooke and I decided to head out. We'd spent almost two hours there, which is pretty respectable!

"So, what now?" Brooke asked me in the car.

"Let's drive around and look at Christmas lights."

So we made a pit stop at a gas station so Brooke could hit the head and get some Tylenol (and I succumbed to a moment of weakness and purchased the most adorable little penguin in winter scarf and cap you have ever seen), and then headed over to the myriad neighborhoods off Pleasant Home, Flowing Wells, and Columbia Road. Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures--driving slowly through a neighborhood and having to stop every few seconds kind of precludes using a camera--but we saw quite a few lovely displays.

After we'd exhausted those neighborhoods, I headed up Columbia Road, down through Walnut Grove, and then around to the home of Sean's friend Paul's mom and stepdad, whose house is always ridiculous at Christmas. It did not disappoint by any means. (Here's a picture from last year. This year there was a full-size Santa standing under that arch, dancing.)

By then it was after 10, so most people were turning off their lights. I took Brooke back to her house and stopped in at her parents' briefly before heading home. I finished off my lovely evening with the rest of my Zaxby's and the Prince of Tennis live action movie (which could have been better, but was cute nonetheless).

I'm thinking about starting some Christmas cookies today, or at least getting a plan ready. Wednesday is Treat Day at work, and everyone's supposed to bring something. Cookies would definitely be good!

Tenpo Ibun Ayakashi Ayashi

Let me say first off that I have no idea how to translate the title, which is 天保異聞 妖奇士 in Japanese. Tenpo is a period in Japanese history; the show starts off in Tenpo 14, or 1843. As a prophetess(?) in the show remarks, that's 10 years before Commodore Perry and his black ships.

Ibun means "strange tale".

The kanji 妖 has the connotation of ghosts or monsters, but I can't find an entry for it on the WWWJDIC with the pronunciation ayakashi.

Ayashi is what the group of main cast is called. They fight supernatural beings from another dimension. The first part of that kanji, 奇, has the connotation of ghostliness or otherworldliness. The second part, 士, can mean "officer" (or soldier, I would assume).

So maybe "The Strange Tale of Tenpo Period Supernatural Fighters"? I don't know.

Regardless, I'm really enjoying the show so far. The historical references are great.

I also love that there's a guy who wears a tall hat, like Sai. (That he dresses like a woman the rest of the time is none of my business ;P) There's also a guy who looks like Gwendal.

The plot is really interesting. Somehow, fighting monsters from another dimension is the duty of people who have studied foreign countries. Because that's going to give you a leg up against monsters. Up until recently they've been able to kill the monsters without letting the general populace know of their existence, but things seem to be rapidly changing.

They recently introduced a character who is a direct descendant of the destroyed Aztec culture, and her supernatural companion, Quetzalcotl. :D

I'll leave you with a picture of my favorite not-quite-character, Kumoshichi.

Gross dream

Vomit warning level 9 is in effect.

This morning I was dreaming about going to the bathroom. I often dream about that in the late morning, because I actually have to go to the bathroom, so my mind fixates on that need.

In this particular dream I was using a Japanese toilet. Not the traditional trench style, but the new-fangled heated seat ones. After I finished, I decided I wanted to try the bidet. I recently read an article about people who use it too much, but I figured once wouldn't hurt.

(Side note: in the dream, the bidet was labeled マッサジ. This is the first time I can remember ever reading Japanese in a dream. I kind of doubt that bidets are called "massage" in real life.)

The controls were nonstandard, consisting of an odd basin sitting in front of me with a button I had to push to start the bidet. Only when I pressed it, nothing happened. So I'd keep holding down the button, and the button would sink in further...

...and then the basin would start filling with, well, waste products, probably from the toilet bowl itself. And I'd yank my hand back before those products engulfed the button (and my finger).

I actually tried this about three times, and on the third try I was too slow letting off the button, so I had to use toilet paper to clean up until I could get to a sink.

Dr. Phil's Test (I got 33, 36, and 39, depending)

I don't know if this is really Dr. Phil's test. I don't know if any of the claims are true. But it's kind of fun.

I had two different answers for 3 and 9, so depending on which ones I go with, my score adds up to 33, 36, or 39. Ultimately, that doesn't actually matter, but I like to be precise.

Here's the obligatory email forward text that came with the test:

Dr. Phil's Test: Here you go. Try this!

Below is Dr. Phil's test. (Dr. Phil scored 55; he did this test on Oprah - she got a 38.) Some folks pay a lot of money to find this stuff out!

Read on, this is very interesting!

Don't be overly sensitive! The following is pretty accurate and it only takes 2 minutes. Take this test for yourself and send it to your friends.

The person who sent it placed their score in the e-mail subject box. Please do the same before forwarding to your friends (send it back to the person who sent it to you.) Don't peek, but begin the test as you scroll down and answer.

Answers are for who you are now --- not who you were in the past. Have pen or pencil and paper ready.

This is a real test given by the Human Relations Dept. at many of the major corporations today. It helps them get better insight concerning their employees and prospective employees. It's only 10 Simple questions, so grab a pencil and paper, keeping track of your letter answers to each question.

Ready??

Begin.

Aaaaaaand here's the actual test. Play along!

1. When do you feel your best?
   a) in the morning
   b) during the afternoon &and early evening
   c) late at night



2. You usually walk...
   a) fairly fast, with long steps
   b) fairly fast, with little steps
   c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
   d) less fast, head down
   e) very slowly



3. When talking to people you...
   a) stand with your arms folded
   b) have your hands clasped
   c) have one or both your hands on your hips
   d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
   e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair



4. When relaxing, you sit with...
   a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
   b) your legs crossed
   c) your legs stretched out or straight
   d) one leg curled under you



5. When something really amuses you, you react with...
   a) big appreciated laugh
   b) a laugh, but not a loud one
   c) a quiet chuckle
   d) a sheepish smile



6. When you go to a party or social gathering you...
   a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
   b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
   c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed



7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted...
   a) welcome the break
   b) feel extremely irritated
   c) vary between these two extremes



8. Which of the following colors do you like most?
   a) Red or orange
   b) black
   c) yellow or light blue
   d) green
   e) dark blue or purple
   f) white
   g) brown or gray



9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep you are...
   a) stretched out on your back
   b) stretched out face down on your stomach
   c) on your side, slightly curled
   d) with your head on one arm
   e) with your head under the covers



10. You often dream that you are...
    a) falling
    b) fighting or struggling
    c) searching for something or somebody
    d) flying or floating
    e) you usually have dreamless sleep
    f) your dreams are always pleasant

POINTS:

1.	(a) 2	(b) 4	(c) 6
2.	(a) 6	(b) 4	(c) 7	(d) 2	(e) 1
3.	(a) 4	(b) 2	(c) 5	(d) 7	(e) 6
4.	(a) 4	(b) 6	(c) 2	(d) 1
5.	(a) 6	(b) 4	(c) 3	(d) 5	(e) 2
6.	(a) 6	(b) 4	(c) 2
7.	(a) 6	(b) 2	(c) 4
8.	(a) 6	(b) 7	(c) 5	(d) 4	(e) 3	(f) 2	(g) 1
9.	(a) 7	(b) 6	(c) 4	(d) 2	(e) 1
10.	(a) 4	(b) 2	(c) 3	(d) 5	(e) 6	(f) 1

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with care." You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile, rather impulsive personality; a natural leader, who's quick to make decisions, though not always the right ones. They see you as bold and adventuresome, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the exciteme nt you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out.

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful & practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return. Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive, someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make the decisions & who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or anything! They see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some people think you're boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

My Ten Names

Copied from Merujo. I don't really think this works very well. But it's interesting to try.

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet and current street name)
Sylvester Sanctuary

I think Sylvester was my first pet, anyway...

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mom's side, your favorite candy)
Tilly Mounds

Um.

3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your last name)
H. Me

This would work better as H. Mead, I think. Or H. Med. Yeah!

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Purple Dog

(Does this work for anyone?)

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Aubrey Nicholasville Lexington (bla-DOI)

Sounds classy, doesn't it?

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 3 letters of mom's maiden name and first 3 letters of the town you grew up in):
Meahestrnic

Geshundheit.

7. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, favorite soda)
The Purple Dr Pepper

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first name of both your grandfathers)
Walton Rupert

That's one respectable Ricky Bobby.

9. FUTURISTIC NAME: (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne and the brand of your favorite shoes)
White Shoulders Skechers

10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother/father's middle name and the next name you hear on the tv/radio...)
Irene Mackey

I cheated on that one, no TV or radio in here :P

Dream memories

I watched my dream as though I were watching a movie I enjoyed as a child. I knew roughly what was going to happen, but the details still surprised me.

There were three siblings: a tall older brother, a middle-child sister, and a little brother. And they were trapped on some rural acreage with their emotionally abusive father and trying to escape.

They got their chance when he brought them to a pond there. They knew that there was a trapdoor leading away from the area. All they had to do was get time to get to it.

That turned out to be unnecessary, though, as their father left them alone to run a quick errand, and the children jumped into a cab. The old 80's car took off, driving them deep into the city.

I became the girl, and helped point out passage through traffic. The cab wove expertly through the cars and neatly dodged a man standing in the middle of the ten-lane highway dressed like Ray Stanz of Ghostbusters--complete with pack--and smoking a cigar.

Not long after our flight began, the cabbie realized he was out of gas. We pulled over, much to my chagrin. The older brother was asking why he hadn't filled up before, and the cabbie said something about only liking gas from this chain of gas stations, and not having passed one until now.

I felt that the abusive father was in pursuit and was very eager for us to get back on the road.

Finally the cabbie swiped his card in the machine, and all of a sudden words and numbers scrolled across a giant marquee. Some of them were "ARREST WARRANT" and "DRUGS".

"The police are coming!" I said. "You're wanted!"

"What for?"

"Drugs!"

We hurried to get back into the car as I turned over this new information in my mind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the police showed up, I thought. They could protect us from the abusive father.

We ended up stopped at a grand old hotel with a huge lobby. I had a flash of memory--the police would help us, all right, help us go back to our father. They wouldn't listen. They'd think we were just naughty and didn't want to be punished for it.

And then, somehow, I was the girl, except I was my age, and I was me. What happened to the girl and her brothers was in my memory, and I was back at the hotel, and I was somehow watching it. It wasn't just that I was remembering it, because I had a friend there, and as we watched a scene where a police officer gave us a speech about how lucky we were and how much our mother had given up to go away and find a job, I turned to that friend and said, "This all made a whole lot more sense when I was a kid."

Then I was just exploring the beautiful lobby. I was there with a huge group of friends and family. We'd meant to just stop briefly on our way to something else, but it was late and we'd started to think it would be better to just spend the night there. I found a keychain-sized swipe card that said "Place Your Order", and I knew it was meant to be used as credit in the hotel. I looked at some eyeshadow samples and brushed one of them--light purple--onto my wrist. And I saw a beautiful box in a display case with words embossed in gold script: "Tycho Brahe". I desperately wanted to take a picture, and it was then that I remembered that I didn't have my purse, which meant that I didn't have my camera.

I was headed away to complain to my mother that I couldn't take pictures when one of my friends said, "Happy Birthday!" I stood by a massive column at the front entrance of the hotel, gazing down the steps at my family beaming up at me.

"Thank you," I said.

"I ordered you a chicken salad," someone said, gesturing to where hotel orderlies were placing a large bowl on a cafe table back inside.

"That can be my birthday cake!" I replied cheerfully, but by the look on her face I could tell that I could expect a real cake, so I quickly said, "Or not."

Too cute for words

Planes and promiscuity

Last night I dreamed about a new kind of flight technology. Airplanes were fitted with a long green cylinder that completely covered their tails. These cylinders propelled the planes off the ground with minimal need for runway. The planes were in the air two seconds after the cylinder activated.

Once the plane was in the air, the cylinder deflated and fell off the plane onto the ground--harmlessly, because it was made of some sort of soft fabric.

I was on one of these planes and watching another one, in that mode where I'm just an observer but then I jump into one of the dream characters' bodies. The characters in this dream happened to include Chandler and Monica from Friends. They were sitting on one side of the aisle and there was another couple on the other side, and somehow the topic of conversation got around to swinging. I think they were actually going to do it.

Maybe it's the barometric pressure... ;P

My cuticles are falling apart, and my face has never felt this oily. It's been like this for two days now. What is going on, body?

Happy Friday!

My day started out, well, terrible.

First, I had trouble sleeping, because I was going to (dun dun dun) Traffic Court for the first time in my life. I was worried about where to go and what to do. I finally woke up 15 minutes before my alarm and decided to stay up. I checked the ticket for the address and checked Google Maps and took a shower and blow-dried my hair and almost forgot my suit jacket on the way out the door.

When I got to the approximate area of the address, I discovered that street numbers were not listed on any of the buildings. So I drove through the parking lots trying to figure out which one was where I needed to be. Court time was rapidly approaching and I was getting desperate.

Finally someone opened up the building where I'd parked, so I got out of the car and locked it, thinking I'd at least go in and ask someone where I was supposed to go.

Then I looked down at my purse and saw that the zippered pocket where I put my keys was open. So I looked into the car...where the keys were still dangling from the ignition.

I didn't really have time to panic or deal with that particular situation. Instead, I asked a man going into the building if this is where I was supposed to go. He said no, I needed to be next door. So I walked through the rain-sodden grass and pine straw to the adjacent building (did I mention it was raining?) and went for the first door I saw.

That turned out to be the wrong one, so I went outside again and reentered through the correct door. From there I was able to follow the signs to the courtroom.

It looked just like those courtrooms on TV. A lady sat up next to the judge's bench doing paperwork. After a time she called out names to see who was there. There were only three other people in the room, and one of them ended up getting to leave because the defendant in their case had already settled.

Time ticked by, and I wondered when the judge was actually going to come out, and whether or not the police officer in my case was going to show up. I started to imagine giddily that he was detained and couldn't make it, which would mean my case would be dismissed. Then, finally, the door to the back offices opened, and in stepped the officer.

He called my name, and we went outside the courtroom. "I don't like taking people's money at Christmas," he said...and then he made me a very fair deal, which I took.

From that point it was just a matter of walking back to the first door to settle up. Feeling much better about life, I asked the lady at the desk if anyone could unlock my car for me. She called a dispatcher who found another police officer who kindly popped the lock.

And I still had an hour before I had to be at work!

So I went to Sunrise Grill for breakfast, and after that I went to Wal-Mart and bought myself some jeans so I wouldn't have to wear the suit skirt anymore. (It has a slit up the front of the left leg that makes it difficult to sit, well, modestly.)

And I still made it in early to work, early enough that I had time to post all this. :)