Friday, April 30, 2004

Take THAT Shii'ann

I don't have a whole lot today since I spent all of yesterday in my house contending with the aforementioned random springtime cold. I am on the mend nicely now, though, due in no small part to sleep, NyQuil, and Kristin bringing me soup last night. No kidding, a housecall and soup. That is old school and fabulous--I contend that friends don't come any better than the K.

We watched "Survivor" last night when finally, FINALLY they voted Shii'ann the h-e-double hockey sticks off the island. I didn't understand at first when Miss Alli railed on her so much, but lately I totally get it. She made quick work of turning herself into a social pariah, allying herself with nincompoops like Lex and Kathy and contributing precisely jack SQUAT in challenges. Not to mention the self-bestowed moniker "Shii Devil." Good grief. Dork much?

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

"I know it was her 'cuz I *69'd her!!"

I have a cold. A what-the-hell-it's-almost-May-why-am-I-sick? head cold. The only possible silver lining is that my voice resembled Kathleen Turner's (in her "Romancing the Stone" days) earlier today. But somewhere around lunch it transitioned to Kiefer Sutherland's voice. And now, late-afternoon, it sounds more emphysematic and black-lungish than anything else. I thought maybe this would be a good time to prank call some people--they'd never know it was me! But then Erinn pointed out that caller ID would put the kaibosh on that. What a killjoy.

Free Wireless Internet planned for the Washington Mall

Link courtesy of my in-house tech guru, Sonny.


The fabulous Suzanne "It's not your booty, it's your beauty" Yueh is celebrating her 28th birfday today. Rock on my Taurus sistah!!! Gotta love them Asians. ;)

This** is what you get for parking in the Secret Space

At least I bet that's what the Effing Hag thinks. Yep, that's my boathouse. Not my class though, or even my type of rowing for that matter. Everyone is fine--and really, what's a Monday without some excitement?

**It's the second story on the page; although the thing about the body on the Parkway is no less interesting in its own macabre way.


When you log on to Blogger, there's a tally at the left that shows you which blogs have been updated most recently. It's kind of fascinating b/c of the profusion of blogs, many from other countries and in other languages. Occasionally I click and see what's out there. Today my eye was caught by this gem. I thought perhaps it was sarcastically titled, but alas, NO. I just really don't know where to start. So y'all go right ahead. That's what my snark box...I mean, "comment field" for.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004


There are few things that frustrate me more than running into someone who is an unmitigated ass. By that I mean someone who is determined to be ugly to others--perpetually angry and spiteful, expending WAY too much energy in the paranoid wait to be screwed over. And then taking way too much pleasure in "defending" themselves against the perceived slight. One of these charming creatures lives in the luxury townhouses adjacent to the boathouse where I row.

The public parking lot next to the boathouse and the townhouses is relatively small and fills up quickly on a busy morning (fills w/ rowers that is, around 5 am). It's easy to find yourself parking several blocks away, which is a pain b/c on rowing mornings time is always of the essence. Anyway, upon occasion when running particularly late, I--like MANY others in the club--have sort of snuck into a space that isn't really a space. By doing this we do not block 1)other parking spaces 2)anyone's driveway or sidewalk 3)anyone's mailbox 4)anyone's doorway or any other sort of foot or vehicle traffic or access. Plus, we're gone by 7 am so literally besides other rowers, this is an issue to NO ONE.

So this morning I avail myself of the Secret Space. Almost as soon as I'm out of the car I hear "Excuse me! YOU CAN'T PARK THERE." I can hear the shrew, but I can't see her, because like most snotty cowards she's hiding in her house just back from the window IN THE DARK. After vaguely identifying the geographic source of the whine I answered that I understood it wasn't a true space but that I'd be on my way in a mere hour or so. In reply? This:


So basically she is cheesed off at the general incursion of the boathouse and us rowers on her space (PS, maybe you should have thought of that before you bought the one property in the complex that sits on both our road for boat access AND a public parking lot. Just a suggestion). It's nonsense too b/c when we are plodding down to the dock at 5, there's barely enough energy in us to BE THERE let alone make noise or cause trouble. There is seriously never so much as a "hello" called across the parking lot--we're too tired and too rushed for it. Whatever, I move the car--calling out a "And you have a lovely morning too" as scathingly as possible--and as I walk back to the boathouse who should pull up but an Alexandria PD cruiser. Which means that she had already called the police before I pulled in. There's no other way dude could have gotten there so fast (this whole thing took about 3 min., tops, so you see what I mean). She was preemptively prepared to drop a massive hammer on whoever dare stray into her domain. This old biddy had worked herself up into a lather over a whole lotta nothin'. She must be chief of her sect of Clan Dillhole.

Why can't people like that harness their energy for the forces of good?? Or at least the forces of "I'm just gonna sit on my couch and chill"??! Why they got ta hate??

Monday, April 26, 2004

This calendar brought to you by Ashcroft Press

As part of my aviation fixation I have a calendar in my office of combat helicopters. Honestly, I'm fascinated by the hardware, and I often forget that there is such a definite lifestyle/mindset that accompanies this sort of hobby or interest. But I remembered right quick when I skipped ahead to September '04 just now to write something on the 11th and saw it listed as "Attack on Freedom, Washington and New York, 2001"...the same way they list Christmas and Tax Day. First of all, like we're ever going to forget, and second, if they list that, then list Oklahoma City, Bali, the Tokyo subway in '95, the Berlin nightclub in '86, or the numerous everyday injustices that tally up as continuously as the Iraq war tab. Freedom is attacked in more ways than I can stand to mention. The list is endless and far from exclusively American. WHO OKd that calendar?? To them I say: Save that kind of hyperbole for where it belongs--in ads for the last episode of "Friends" THE MOST BELOVED COMEDY IN THE HISTORY OF TELEVISION. Or so I've heard.

Perhaps because it was my birthday?

Both of my Cloak n' Dagger shows did major Anne shout-outs last week, and as already stated, I surmise that it was in homage to me given the proximity of my birfday.

First 24 has Spawn running an op in a library; then last night on Alias Syd got herself all kitted out in "glasses = smrt" togs and headed to the "Smithsonian." Kids, I've been in the archives and storage facilities of most of the SI's buildings and they don't have anything as fancy new-fangled as that lab she was in. The new annex for the NMAI is about as spiffy as it gets, but W has effectively obliterated all federal monies for museums so J.J. was way reaching with that one.

Nevertheless a library and a museum all in one week?? You have me to thank for that.

Friday, April 23, 2004

Oh no

I saw the headline on CNN and knew immediately they were talking about Pat Tillman. Like many people, I was impressed with his decision to do something bigger than himself. His loss is no more devastating than that of any other soldier, sailor, or airman--but it's also no less scary. Or wasteful.

Drum roll, please!!!

The FINAL Friday Five!!!!

With this last installment, you should feel that you know me better than I know myself. If not, go back and read them again. Where's your commitment???! ;)

26. I’m not an aesthete, so this is a hard one for me. Let’s go with “Antonia’s Line,” Pink Floyd’s “A Momentary Lapse of Reason,” and “To Kill a Mockingbird[are] piece[s] of art (music, book, film) that I now believe had a large affect on my transition into adulthood. That’s assuming that I am an adult, which is up for grabs.

27. My idea of a perfect Friday night: anything chill with my friends—drinks and dinner out, maybe a movie?

28. Until I met Matt I never would have considered the potential total rightness of dropping everything and just hitting the road.

29. I'm a Taurus (star sign) and these 3 traits apply:

a. faithful friend/lover with a great capacity for affection

b. keen-witted and practical but apt to become fixed in their opinions

c. dependable, steadfast, just, and unshaken in the face of difficulties. Their vices arise from their virtues, going to extremes on occasion, such as sometimes being too slavish to the conventions they admire.

30. I tend to have existential worries about personal authenticity, but it’s not revealing too much to say that on this site.

Grazie tutto

Thanks to everyone for making yesterday a wonderful birthday. Y'all are the rockingest rockers ever to rock.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

April 22nd is an auspicious day for others, too

Famous peeps who share my natal day:

Eddie Albert (96)
Jack Nicholson (67)
Immanuel Kant (1724)
Robert Oppenheimer (1904)
V.I. Lenin (1870)
Glenn Campbell (68)
Aaron Spelling (76)
Peter Frampton (54)

"Some of you weren't born yet, and some of you are now de'ed!"

Oh yeah, it's Earth Day, too! Go love on a tree or something. Matt will show you how.

I was born at 3:39 pm on Thursday April 22, 1976. So technically I'm not 28 for another 6 hours, but I thought it fitting to put some of the more interesting details of the day I was born:

My father was stationed at the Pentagon then but had taken the week off of duty in anticipation of my arrival. Apparently I was pretty close to being born on my due date, and my dad had unfortunately missed enough other births during his years at sea that he made a point to be on hand for this one. That morning he and my mother got up and got the other 5 chill’uns off to school when my mother announced that she thought this was it, they needed to head for the hospital. Fine, OK, whatever…6th time, the franticness is gone. So they pile into the red VW bus, and head for Ft. Belvoir.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Military doctors are great. But they’re hassled most of the time, and seeing too many patients w/ too few resources, and apparently that day the person my mom saw at Ft. B wasn’t terribly…um, skilled…because this person told her she was in false labor (Braxton-Hicks, baby), it wasn’t time, go home. She was skeptical (again, 6th baby, she knew the score with her own body) but thought, fine, OK, whatever.

Since they were already on base they decided to make the most of the time and went to the commissary to do the week’s shopping. I’ve seen the cancelled check and everything. They didn’t mess around, and stocked up the house for an invasion based on the amount. They loaded everything up, got it home, and unloaded it. Then my dad lay down for a nap while my mom fixed some lunch—an aside, seriously, how unbelievably badass is my mom? Five kids, mostly teenagers, uber-preggo with number 6, pushing 40, IN LABOR, does the grocery shopping and cooking for her husband so he can rest?!! There isn’t enough room in any house for the medals she should have earned. End aside.

By the time she finishes the lunch (fixing it, that is, not eating it) she concludes NO REALLY RIGHT NOW LET’S GO IT’S TIIIIIIIIIIME. She wakes my dad, they pile back into the van, and away they go. By this time she is in serious labor, hee-hee-hee-hoooooooing all the way. Her body had no time for long labor or slow dilation—she was READY. This, understandably, freaked Commander Doss the hell out, and my normally law-abiding dad put the pedal to the metal, Ft. Belvoir or bust!

They pull up (I like to think Indy-pit style… "Screeeeech!”), some nurses trundle out with a wheelchair and whisk my mom away. My dad then pulled around to park the van, and in NINE MINUTES, by the time he’d parked and come into the hospital, I had been born. Anne Elizabeth, named after my great-grandmother, 21” long, 8 lbs. 2 oz., with one huge curl of brown hair on my shiny new head. Mom and baby fine, siblings in awe of the little person with little fingers and toes, the blue Doss eyes and the rosy Hornbeck complexion.

A few days later the dumb “you’re not in labor" doctor came in to visit my mom. I don’t know what she said to him exactly, but I think my presence in the room was the biggest “Told you so” she could have given.

So it’s my day, kids. My own personal holiday, to celebrate that long ago moment when the Army had no idea what it was doing but on their own my mom and dad blew the doors off the parent thing in their usual awesome style. My thanks to them both. I’m glad to be here.

SBD be damned

It's barely 9:40 and I've already had a brownie and a massive slice of coffee cake. My body hasn't had this much refined flour or sugar in a month. Watch out for the crash. But I earned it. It's my birthday, dammit! :)

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Does that come in a berber?

I don't know what I find more disturbing about this: Jermaine as ambassador or Michael as tapestry?

'Cause I have so much free time

Just now, in checking my Netflix shipping, I was delighted to see that Heat Guy J has finally reached the top of the queue and is on its way to me. It's no Aqua Teen Hunger Force, but it'll do.

Carry Your Own Weight

We've all used this phrase at various times, but nowhere is it more apt than in rowing. Whenever I'm out on the water *I* am my own engine, responsible for powering the boat wherever it goes. Usually I row with anywhere between 1 and 3 other people, and believe me, everyone needs to be doing their part for a smooth, fun, proficient, efficient, powerful ride.

Which brings me to Orange Shorts of Anger. This man, who shall remain nameless (although Sandy has met him, and can back me up as to his existence, lack o' prowess, and demeanor) is the most useless lead weight EVER to perpetrate himself on the sleek sport of sculling. Occasionally he accompanies my team out on the water (he's been in the club forever and so has basically grandfathered himself into a situation that he does not have the skills for) and he makes the trip a total S.N.A.F.U. nightmare. He's big--6'2" or so--and weighs about 230 lbs., so brother-friend is not light. He weighs the boat down considerably, but that isn't the issue. There are plenty of big guys in rowing.

The problem w/ OSoA is that he doesn't actually row when we row. He brings all that ballast into the boat but then contributes precisely ZIP to our propulsion. Today the water was particularly choppy (calm seas but solid 10 kt gusts out of the northwest) and between the driver (person in the bow who gives us commands to steer) being preoccupied w/ navigating and OSoA not doing a g-d thing but sit there, it was basically me and one other rower powering a quad all over the Potomac. That's about 900-1000 pounds of humans and equipment. Needless to say, I'm a little sore. Literally and figuratively. StOOpid OSoA.

Monday, April 19, 2004

"I'd like to buy the world a C2...."

Coca-Cola is coming out with a soft drink, C2, that has half the carbohydrates of regular Coke. I'm reserving total judgment 'til I taste it, but anything that lets me indulge and is still SBD friendly ranks highly on my "Greatest Human Inventions" list.

Drop that zero and get with the hero

Vanilla Ice is playing Gallaudet University this week. How does that work, exactly? It just doesn't seem to be the strongest endorsement of a "musician's" prowess that he's playing at a school for the deaf.

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Mystery Solved

In the first week after I moved into my apartment I came home from work one day to find a blossom on my door. Someone had nabbed it from the flowering shrub outside my building and bestowed it. At first I thought (hoped) that it came from 2 friends who live in the neighborhood, who (I surmised) in stopping by and finding me not at home had left a "Welcome to the Neighborhood" gesture. Come to find out in talking to them a few days later, Nope. Wasn't them. Gasp! Who the EFF had left it, then?

Dear readers, I have the answer. My soon-to-be ex-neighbor James is the culprit. He was moving things out of his apartment today (avec aid from his bro) and on my way out the brother pointed out the NEW blossom on my door (James isn't one for varying his schtick) and ratted James out as the stealth flower man. I called a "thank you" down the hall but made a hasty exit. It is, in theory, a nice gesture, but I long since decided that James wasn't a fellow to be unduly encouraged. The flower thing is nice, but also a little odd, so I'm just as glad to see him be on his way.

It is a really lovely blossom though.... Thanks, James.

Friday, April 16, 2004

The Penultimate Friday Five

I've saved the whoppers for next week--then the TRUE me will be revealed. Uh, yeah. Anyhoo, this week's pentaverate of power is:

21. I want a mint-condition 1987 BMW 333i more than anyone can possibly imagine.

22. A real-life person I will always consider a vital mentor in my development (excluding family members) I don’t like the family member exclusion, but outside the clan I’d have to go with Miss Kristin. She’s truly such a stellar individual, and brings the same out in others. **PS, I love the “real-life person” proviso—is there a real likelihood that someone will list their imaginary friend??

23. I read this website religiously: That and for updating rowing info. I know—scintillating.

24. Godiva chocolate; freshly brewed coffee; mufellata; strawberries; my mom’s potato salad [are] simply, unequivocally delicious. (not simultaneously, of course)

25. “In Your Eyes” is a song that really comforts me.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

Oh, my side needs to get on this immediately. These spray-on stockings look awesome, but they're very new to the American market, hence the ESL translations. Some of my faves:

The nude should be a winning trick in tomorrow's date.

[I]f "Air Stocking" is used it seems much healthy as well as charms people on the beautiful legs.

It is a waterproof type, so much strong in the sweat or rain.

I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. Aidez-moi!

Bad sign

Plugging away at a typical task just now, I stopped short when I realized that I was singing out loud to myself the theme song to "9 to 5." That's right, the Dolly Parton opus that evokes the struggles of the day-late-dollar-short working woman.

Yeah. Singing that. Out loud. At work. This portends ill things, methinks. Praise whomever that my boss didn't hear me.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Totally unrelated

Two things, utterly unconnected:

1. Give to US PIRG. I did, and I feel like a whole new person. There's a particularly amiable and dashing canvasser in the Dupont Circle area. Give him a moment for the environment.

2. I f**king HATE it when people are standing right there at an elevator's doors when they open. It's the same with the metro. Step back, give people a chance to exit, THEN get on. And don't *even* act like I got in your way.

That is all.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Shame in PKE

Well, if it's on CNN, then you know it's a big deal. A chapter of my sorority did a typically stupid college-age thing, but was uber-foolish enough to create a paper trail. I post it simply to avoid multitudes of "Did you see this?" emails. Yes, they're Gamma Phi's. Not my school, not my chapter. Not even my geographical region (and yes, that matters). Just dumb college kids. Who know the secret handshake. ;)

Back in Black

Hello, loyal readers! I'm sure both of you missed me while I was away this weekend. I hope everyone had a lovely Easter (or generic April weekend, depending on your choice of faith). I have very little of an anecdotal nature to share, other than my growing feeling that living in and around DC is turning me into a snob. Maybe more on that later, but I wanted to mention two things in this post:

First, I watched the second half of a great Masterpiece Theater mini-series on Sunday called "Daniel Deronda." It proffered the usual Brit-series fare--posh accents, earnest women, cuckolded men, and unbelievably beautiful costuming and scenery. I was also sufficiently twitterpated with the leading man, Hugh Dancy, who come to find out was in "Black Hawk Down" as well. Yum.

Second, is *anyone* watching "Homeland Security"? I stumbled across its opening credits Sunday night while searching out the PBS station at my mom's place, and I cringed. I was especially sad to see how far Tom Skerritt and fellow W&M alum Scott Glenn have fallen. Crap TV knows no bounds.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

"911, what is the nature of your emergency?"

This morning I added to my life’s tally of highly disturbing car-related/road rage incidents. I was on my way to work (9 a.m. on a Saturday) and merged from a local residential street onto a medium-sized highway (U.S. 50 East near Rosslyn). It’s a bit of a blind merge, and while I definitely did a head check, I did also assume that because it was early on a Saturday morning that I would be pretty much in the clear. I merged one lane, then two. As I finished pulling into the center lane I did a final rear-view mirror check and there was a car ON TOP OF ME. Clearly this guy had been going very fast and I hadn’t seen him the first time b/c he wasn’t close enough to me yet, but by the time I hit the 2nd lane, there he was, and I had pretty much (completely inadvertently) cut him off. I, of course, felt badly about this, and did the obligatory cringe and mouthed “I’m sorry” while looking back at him. Feeble gesture, but the sentiment was genuine.

Well, apparently dude was spoiling for a fight, because he proceeded to speed up, pull in front of me and cut me off and then slowed way, WAY down in jerky fits and starts—i.e. I totally had to watch his every move and jam on my breaks because rear-ending him was a real possibility (we're talking slowing us both down to 10-15 mph on a 50 mph road). He was in prime jackass mode, so I resolved to change lanes and leave him be, except...whenever I tried to change lanes, so did he, staying in front me, continuing to slow down sporadically, cutting me off, weaving in front of me to prevent me from passing, turning on his hazards, etc. For a second I thought he was a cop and was trying to pull me over, but no siren, no lights—just a pure, scary ass hole.

Finally, fed up, I grabbed my phone, held it up and clearly mouthed “I’M CALLING THE POLICE.” Which I did. He seemed to find this even more cause to harass me, rolling down his window and sticking his hand (unsurprisingly clad in those knuckle-less racing gloves) and own cell phone out the window and wagging them at me. Finally the 911 dispatcher picked up and I reported him…Foolio has a personalized Virginia plate and I spent enough time looking at his bumper that I could say exactly what make, model, and color, and practically what year his car was for the police. As soon as he saw that I was genuinely making a call and talking to someone he took the first exit he could. I doubt that the 5-0 will find him, but it made me feel better to make the call nonetheless, and seeing me do it is what finally got him to back off.

So…I just don’t understand behavior like that. I get mad at other drivers all the time—if you’ve ever ridden with me you know this. I keep up a steady stream of “NICE one, Maryland” and similar commentary. But that’s as far as it goes. I would never use my car to give someone “payback” nor would I ever become physically or verbally aggressive. There is just NO NEED. I think the fact that he was a he and I’m a she played some part in it, but there’s more to it than that.

Anyway…if you see a dark silver/gray 2003 VW Passat w/ Virginia plates JAH FIRE, feel free to make a citizens’ arrest. Call me for backup.

Friday, April 09, 2004

The Storyteller

This week's New Yorker magazine has a wonderful story and interview with Madeleine L'Engle. I worshipped her books when I was little (and truth be told, still do), so if you feel similarly, check it out! [Sorry for the absence du link...I couldn't find it online anywhere.]

Kamikaze Friday Five

I've spent the better part of this morning in meetings or dealing with the sudden and drastic change in pace of my working life. So the Friday Five is here, but I'm just gonna drop it and run. Enjoy:

16. My passion for aviation explains much about me. Duh. Sorry—totally not revelatory for you.

17. I think I am good at being a friend. My urban family (tm Bridget Jones) really means the world to me and I’m fierce in my loyalty and protection of them.

18. My idea of a perfect Saturday morning: a long row on the Potomac, then a phat brunch outside w/ friends. Maybe some philosophical discussions?? Oh, who am I kidding. We’d just talk about TV and people watch. No shame in that game, neither.

19. When I need comfort food, I have MANY THINGS. Macaroni n’ cheese; oatmeal chocolate chip cookies; tomato soup; crackers n’ cheese. Apparently anything “n’ cheese”. Huh.

20. I could use a few lessons in social graces; the ability to read interpersonal clues better; knowing the right thing to say at the right time.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

My friend went into suborbital space and all I got was this t-shirt

I'm starting a collection; any and all donations appreciated (receipts gladly given--tax deductible!). I'm putting a ride on this on my Life's Wish List, and without a sugar daddy (none at the moment; if that changes, I will, of course, issue refunds) I have to prey on the generosity of supporters like YOU.

"Guam is no longer the trailer park of the Pacific"

Well, that's good to know. Because I was getting ready to send them a supply of "You know you're a redneck if...." books, DVDs, and posters. But apparently Rumsfeld is set--in that cute, impish way of his--on escalating U.S. military presence in Guam (since the Philippines told us to "talk to the hand" 10 years ago). Ostensibly this is to facilitate shows of force in the Pacific (read: China) in the years to come. This article outlines the details, which are apparently being undertaken on the DL. Except for the whole international media attention thing, that is.

I'm torn--as most of you know the DoD and the military in general hold a special place in my heart, but I'm also inherently suspicious of ANYTHING this administration does.

Coffee Talk w/ Condi

She's engaging right now--right this minute!! go listen!!--in a massive exercise in CYA (Cover Yo Ayse). Links are helpfully and obligingly provided on James' blog.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

Magic hands

So, I made a chiropractic appointment last week after 3 months of intermittent back spasms which, while not keeping me from rowing, did totally put the kaibosh on my growing love of running (odd, b/c you use your back more in rowing, but whatev). I went for the first appointment last Friday, had a lovely treatment where most of the major bones and joints in my body popped like firecrackers, and was scheduled to go back for a longer massage and treatment.

Fast forward to the massage today. 40 minutes of googly-muscled bliss. I almost fell asleep several times. It's been 3 hours now and I still feel all warm and jelly-armed. I haven't had many massages over the years because they're outside of my budget, but I found out that there's a massage therapy institute and school in Northwest that has its students train on patients at the bargain rate of $35/hour. That is a super massage deal. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Good Passover

Last night I attended my first Seder, the meal celebrated in the Jewish faith to mark the beginning of Passover. I went to the dinner thinking that the serving of kosher foods and the attendance of at least one practicing Jew were what would make it a Jewish dinner as opposed to any other dinner, but in fact the Seder is a lovely and complex organization of ritual, history, participation, food, and song. I was flattered and touched to be asked to join in an evening so full of tradition, symbolism, and amazing foods (all of which had their own particular meaning in the night's themes). Personally I've strayed pretty far from organized religion, so this was a wonderful reminder of how belief (of any kind) can be very fulfilling when practiced with a joy of spirit. Truly a special night.


I'm on a Museums listserv (in the hopes that I some day get back into the biz) and a discussion thread was recently started about what to do if and when items taken from Iraq (and other sites of recent military engagements) are offered to museums for their collections/exhibits. Needless to say many people weighed in with many diverse opinions, straying ever-further off topic and into pure personal opinion and politics. In the latest volley involved one list member called another a "pompous overblown jackass."

Professional? No. Hilarious? Definitely.

Monday, April 05, 2004

No, no, NO!

Kristin's entry about The Amazing Race prompted me to go to the Big Brother site (a show I have never watched, hence her info on Alison was all news to me) and found this bio info on this tremendously vapid and painful girl. How did I make such a quick assessment of her character, you ask? From responses like these:

· Who is your personal hero?
Britney Spears

· What type of news from the outside world will you miss the most?
[W]ho won miss Pennsylvania

· What is your motto?
Irwin [last name] backwards is WIN-IR


Sunday, April 04, 2004

It's your birfday, Swiss Miss!

Here's wishing Christie--dear friend and fellow W&M alum--the happiest of 28th birthdays!!

Saturday, April 03, 2004

Issei and Nisei

I have few interesting anecdotes for today, other than to say that I am fulfilling my horoscope and have had a lovely and house-frau-like weekend so far. Game Night (see Kristin's blog for details) was much fun, and this morning for the first time in the '04 season we got out on the water and sculled to our heart's content. My body remembered all the old moves pretty quickly and its was like coming home. Errands, unpacking, blah. The reason we gather here today is for me to tell you about my plumbers.

The apartment that I *just* moved into last weekend was having toilet issues. Leaking, potential damage of sub-floor structural elements, etc. necessitating a whole new toilet. On the one hand, YAY, new stuff! No bum shall have used it but mine!!! Oh, the joy. On the other, the plumbers-in-residence for this complex are not, shall we say, punctual. Or reliable. Or sticklers for taking care with their work. After knocking on my door at 10:30 Thursday night (sans warning!) to drop off the hardware, they failed to meet an appointed installation time last night and just showed up again, unannounced, in the middle of my Zen weekend this afternoon. They made quick work of the issue, but left in their wake a soaked and filthy bathroom floor, the detritus of boxes and packing material in my living room, and a totally soaked and trashed throw rug in my bedroom. Havoc? She was wreaked, my friends.

What threw me most about the whole thing, though, was the dynamic between the 2 men. They were both Japanese--one rather old (70+), the other probably in his late 30s to early 40s. Despite what you would assume to be the obvious workflow here--that is, older = wiser and the finesse/brains part of the operation and the younger man supplies the brute strength/labor--it was quite the opposite. The older man scurried to and fro in my apartment and out to the dumpster hauling the old out and the new in, speaking little and taking much berating and bossiness from the younger man. Now, I have no idea what their deal is, professional or personal, and there may exist many mitigating circumstances for what I saw. But I just got to thinking about the archetype of generational wisdom and respect, and how that was so utterly lacking here. I felt like offering the older man a comfortable seat and cup of tea and telling the younger man that he owed me cleaning costs and where to shove his attitude. Damn whippersnappers.

Friday, April 02, 2004


My weekend horoscope, according to The Paper:

This is a perfect weekend for indulging in those things that suit you best, such as relaxing, reading a good book or just pottering around making your home neat and beautiful.

How fitting, considering that all I'm up to this weekend is finishing unpacking and setting up my new place. Maybe a chill evening w/ some of best girl friends, but nothing more structured than a trip to Home Depot. I love it! *And* its foreordained in the stars. Who am I to question?

The. Friday. Five!

Major shout out to Erin, who noticed the absence of this week's Friday five. What a good, attentive friend. :) I was so wrapped up in my first visit to the chiropractor this morning (more on that later) that I forgot all about them. I know you have all been waiting with bated breath. A thousand apologies. Without further ado, here they are:

11. My idea of a perfect Sunday morning: sleeping late, then getting up to nurse a pot of fresh coffee and read the paper from front to back.

12. If I could invite one network news anchor over for dinner, it would be Jon Stewart, of course.

13. If I could invite two politicians to join him/her, they would be: duh. Bush and Kerry. Now THAT’S a properly emceed debate.

14. I used to think therapy was for sissies, but I have changed my mind.

15. I become a bit of a high-minded moralist when I see misogyny, discrimination against women, characterizations of thoughts/hobbies/occupations as “guy” things. Eff that.

Thursday, April 01, 2004

The Fabulous Destiny of Anne

Cribbing my title from the wonderful Amelie, I'm inspired by Shelby's comments re: the Ryan saga into considering, if I made my life into a movie, who would play me? Do you go for looks primarily, or personality? I once had someone tell me that I looked like Andie MacDowell, but I think that was more a hair thing. Plus now she's too old, and while I like her, I don't think we're anything alike. I think a good approximation for me, while not bang-on in either department, is Julianna Margulies.

Feel free to weigh in on my choice, or answer for yourselves. And be realistic. I don't know anyone who could honestly say that Gael García Bernal or Lena Olin could play them. Which is sad for me, if you think about it.