I may have crossed a line ...

So ... Target had pet apparel in their dollar section.

 

And I couldn't resist.  This one is too small, but still cute.

I may have went a little overboard ...    Herc needs to work on his modeling skills.

But to my defense, I got one for my mom's cat too.  Here Herc is getting into it.

And of course, we have to remember those cold winter nights.

Now he's hamming it up!

Unravel and Unwind

I had a long and somewhat stressful day.  But there were two things that kept me going ...

My sparkly necklace and pretty nails (that match my outfit perfectly!)

(Ignore my short, ugly fingers)

And then I got home and saw ...

Wahoo!

Yay, pretty wedges!

And of course, as always, there's a little furry friend who makes me smile and melts my stress!

Hercules

Sparkly, pretty, furry and cuddly... that's what matters in life, right?

In case I get eaten by a bear

Last.fm cares.  That makes me feel good.  Click on image to read the message.

White pepper tastes like dill

I haven't mustered up the concentration to write down what I've been mulling over for new posts.

So, I thought in the meantime, I would post some pictures.  (I also have some funny videos of our cats chasing tree branches, but I have to do a little editing or my mom would KILL ME.)

I call this A Study in Supper.

Monday Night: Burger & a Beer

 Tuesday Night: Minestrone 

I think it looks pretty awesome, tasted pretty good too.

(and look at me with my all blue dishes, totally not coordinated to be that way)

It's like one step forward and two steps back

I have been feeling very manic-depressive the past two weeks.  I don't know if it's spring fever, too much on my plate or the fact that the "crazy" inside of me is bubbling up and finally sick of being cooped up in that "normal" shell I try to show.

Even now, I need to vent here, but in the back of my mind I'm thinking about that application I desperately need to work on so i can finish it and polish it.  And God, not to mention the mile long list that I haven't been doing because this and one other big project at work and redesigning the web site and creating an interactive, engaging online presence.  Fuck yeah.

I totally missed my "alarm" this morning.  I woke up at 7:30.  I looked out the window and thought that it was awfully light out.  Man, if only I got up and dressed as fast as I do the days I'm running late I'd have a whole two extra hours in my daily routine.

I miss the days when I was in that old workplace when I still wasn't in the real world.  I was good at what I did.  In fact, I was awesome.  I rocked it out.  Every day.  It was fun, most of the people were supportive and I didn't feel so judged or so much of a loser.

My snow is FINALLY melting.  I love my camera.  I love the sunshine.  Gah gah gah ... :-)  I want cookies or cake ... CRAVING them so desperately.  **trying not to have a Pepsi Twist ....

There was my vent.  Now I must go back to work.

***Ohmmmmm, Ohmmmm*****

The risk that might break is the one that could save

Okay, so it was a huge misconception that spring was here. Nothing like three days of snow and a total accumulation of around four inches to put a person back in their place. A miserable place with no spring in sight.


I think it's safe to say that this has been the longest winter in our recent memory.


A Green Living Update: I got my canvas bags and haven't used a plastic or paper bag for grocery shopping since. My next goal will be to use it in other shopping avenues. I've also tried soy milk. Very good, slightly more expensive than that from a cow. Much more drinkable though and the power used to process it is a renewable resource. I find it funny though that I buy soy milk but cream cheese and yogurt. Oh well, I suppose, baby steps.


On a completely different topic, I didn't realize Phil from The Amazing Race was Scottish. I always knew there was something different about his accent. He's doing a story on the sunday morning show, and while putting across Scotland, his brogue (is it a brogue from Scotland? or is it only a brogue if it's from Ireland?) is coming through.

My latest viewing addiction (in this post-writer's strike world) is Dexter. This series originally airs on Showtime, and by some television act of genius, they are re-airing cleaned up versions on CBS. I first was exposed to Dexter when Jeanne gave me a tape of Season 8's (the one with Evil Dick, was that 8?) Big Brother After Dark, the not-for-broadcast-television footage of drinking, swearing and sometimes raunchy behavior---though this 8 hour footage was awfully mundane.

Anyways, as I was fast-forwarding through the commercials (and the less interesting parts of the show), I caught glimpse of Darla (Julie Benz) the immortally evil vampire, sire of Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She played that role so well I still get a shiver down my spine when I see her. I stopped and backed up a little, but it was just a montage of the different series on Showtime. It only showed her and a guy.

But as luck would have it, the next commercial block had more. It showed the average looking man who appeared with Darla, narrating his average looking life ... and here's the twist ... he's a serial killer. Oh yeah I read something about this show, a crime series told by the perspective of the murderer. Interesting.

Dexter, our favorite serial killer, is a blood-analyst at a Florida police department/crime lab. He's the best at what he does, and has killer instincts when it comes to habits of the criminals the detectives are investigating.

We learn Dexter was adopted after surviving (and possibly witnessing) a horrible event. His adopted father, a detective, recognized Dexter was different from other children. He taught Dexter how to act normal and control his urges to do murderous things. Soon, Dexter lives by the code he was taught, only killing people who deserve it--people who escaped punishment from the justice system.

Dexter nicks the cheek of each of his victims, saving a drop of their blood on a slide before he dismembers their bodies and dumps them in the ocean.

But Dexter finds himself admiring the work of another serial killer who drains the blood before he dismembers bodies. And this killer--dubbed the Ice Truck Killer--soon takes interest in Dexter. It's cute mutual admiration with breaking and entering, cut up barbie dolls, kidnapping and mutilation.

This show works because other than the urge to kill people and social awkwardness, Dexter is an all around decent and nice guy.

The opening credits are great too. It's just Dexter getting ready in the morning: shaving, eating, tying his shoe, flossing his teeth. But they show it in such a visceral way that it makes it look like he's in the act of killing someone.

Top two photos: Easter eggs this year. I played with putting wax on to get different colors. I tried to do stripes and polka dots but just couldn't control the wax enough to make it work.

Last photo: A picture of the start of my omelet this morning. It looked so much like a yin-yang that I had to take a picture. Now it also reminds me of Dexter's breakfast scene, but this is much more peaceful than his.

Make me wanna drop

I had a very busy, stressful week. Tuesday I barely slept and felt the heavy effects the next day. The toll escalated and by Thursday night all my muscles hurt. They were fighting each other on who could ache and who could be stiff. For whoever won this contest, I received the short end of the stick.

The exhaustion overwhelmed me and I slept well, but the stress hangover still persisted.

So Friday night, I had my fill of DVD special features, so I found my MP3 player. I listened to about an hour's worth of music. I felt the relief almost instaneously. The stress melted out. I felt lighter, clearer, happier.

It was such a strong feeling that I took pause to reflect. I realized it was the first day of the week that I had listened to music.


Above Left: A photo of my messsssssy desk. It was one of those...I'm going so crazy so in an effort to not freak out, I'll divert myself by taking a picture of what's making me so crazy. Yeah.

There is still hope

I have spring fever. Along with everyone else I know. Last night it snowed four inches. Let me tell you about a complete blow to a person's will to live. Utterly disheartening. But this morning, by about 9 a.m. it started melting off the roof. That was one of the most surreal things I have experienced.

All of the snow melted off the roof and was raining down in sheets of water for 45 minutes. The sun was shining, there was snow everywhere else.

And I was behind my very own private waterfall.

Photo Above Left: This picture wasn't from the waterfall day, but one of the many snows after it. Enjoy the bleek grey sky that blends so seamlessly with the bleak grey ground.

NYC Trip: A brush with semi-fame and the Endless Wait

So we got up at 6 a.m. or some other ungoldly hour. We hailed a cab and got the slippy, sliddy experience of whipping through traffic. When we reached the studio there was two lines, we were about in the middle of the first one. One line was for people who had tickets and the other was for walkins. Finally the doors opened and we got to go in. We had to go through security and then wait some more. I’d say we waited for at least 1 hour and 45 minutes. But I’m not sure anymore. It was forever. We were tired and you couldn’t bring beverages in, so we were without coffee.

It was so good to finally sit in the studio chairs. Gelman came out and welcomed us. Told us how important we were (which I think they should have been telling us all along when we were standing in line like cattle) and he taught us how to clap loud and when to clap.
The guest host was Jeff Probst. (Yay!) and the guests were Diane Sawyer, some guy teaching us how to live green and Avril Lavine. It was cool how Kelly came to the audience and talked at each commercial break.

As we were leaving we saw Avril get in her car and be hassled by the paparazzi. We walked back to our hotel and stumbled by Avril’s hotel. They barricaded the streets from all directions to let her get in with some peace.

We window shopped a little, then went back to the hotel to rest. We did a little shopping on 51st Avenue and ate lunch at Familia’s Famous Pizzeria. Then we stopped at Ben and Jerry’s. I had a chocolate cheesecake and coffee.

Our matinee was A Year of Magical Thinking. It was okay. Probably better as a book. We were exhausted, so I guess I’d need to see it again to give it a fair shot (hopefully in my home, on pbs, with popcorn and a blanket).

As we were walking around between the shows we walked by half the cast of A Chorus Line. Whoo!

We ate supper at Pigallea’s and I was craving red meat so I had a skirt steak with fries and steamed veggies. The pear/bleu cheese salad looked amazing, but that steak hit the spot.

Company was pretty good. It had some twists I didn’t see coming.

We walked back to the hotel, happy to sleep.

Thursday we woke up, ate, went to the airport, waited, flew, ate, waited, flew and came home. To Grey’s Anatomy. Whoo.

NYC Trip: Yummy food, Lots of drinking

Today we walked down to Central Park, and it started to sprinkle. So we hopped in a carriage and took a 30 minute ride through the park. Below Left: A view of the skyline from inside Central Park.

We walked to Radio City Music Hall, but were about 45 minutes to an hour early. So we went into a couple of the stores near by, then to eat. We got turned around in the basement of Rockefeller Center and were on the wrong block and had to walk around to get back to Radio City. Below Right: The stage at Radio City Music Hall where various award shows have taken place.

The tour was pretty interesting. I enjoyed learning about the architect and why he made the design choices he did. We met a Rockette, went into their dance studio and saw their costumes throughout the year.

Then the group was going to head down to Statue of Liberty. I was tired and Michelle was cold, so we went back to the hotel instead. We warmed up, rested and made phone calls back home.

We wandered out for dinner, just up the street by the Gershwin Theatre, where Wicked is. We ate at Azalea’s, which was so yummy. I introduced Michelle to the wonderful world of Moscatos. The one we had was a Moscato Trentino, a red dessert wine.

We walked to the next Theatre and watched A Chorus Line. This musical was good, but the storyline really didn’t catch me that much. The dancing was pretty awesome too. (Not to mention Larry (aka: Tyler Hanes, pictured below) was HOT!!)

Afterwards we walked to Broadway and decided to go to Caroline’s to see a show. We got $30 off our cover charge (how, I’m not quite sure, prolly cuz it was rainy and icky and they wanted to get people in). We had our two drinks. I had a Razztini and a Corona w/lime. I was lementing that I probably was spending twice as much for drinks as everyone else and wishing I’d just order two cheap beers. But when we got the bill, the rum and coke people were charged separately for their mixer and booze. So, I spent ONE DOLLAR more than them. And I was satisfied.

The host was Brian Kennedy from SNL, and he did an amazing job. I could have listened to just him. We lost count of how many comedians actually performed. I’d guess at least 15-20. Five were pretty bad, and I’d say about five were fair to average. The rest were really good and excellent.

My favorite joke was “My daddy is a pilot, but that doesn’t make me think I can fly airplanes. Just because your daddy was president didn’t mean you make a good one.” Or something to that effect. So funny! I got yelled at for laughing at it though, I think my table might have been leaning to the republican side. I wish I remembered who said it, so I could properly attribute it. But whoever did, rocked.

I think we got back to the hotel around one or two. So we had to scurry on to bed since Regis & Kelly was tomorrow!

NYC Trip: Such a Great Day

This was the day we were supposed to go to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, but the ferries weren’t running. On the news this morning they said New York area received 7.5 inches of rain, something that happens about once in 15 years.

It’s still drizzling, so we go to a Rite Aid to buy a new umbrella and then walk to the Museum of Modern Art. The special exhibit was called Jeff’s Wall, a photography collection of a vast array of things. It featured flooding areas, a dirty kitchen, and migrants under a bridge to a windy day surprising business people.

There were a lot of familiar pieces at the MoMa. Andy Worhall’s Soup collection, the Three Musicians, and I got to stand and marvel in front of Starry Night.

After that we went to the NBC Experience store and I bought a Studio 60 mug. A nice guard in the underground section of Rockefeller Center showed us the way to get to some delis and we choose a world buffet kind. I had cold pastas, including a salad with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato.

We walked up Fifth Avenue, visited Trump Tower, hit Tiffany & Co. (the diamond floor was awesome!) and went in FAO Schwartz.

After all of this window shopping we went to our bakery down the street. We got the plain cheesecake and a black and white cookie. This went great with the coffee in the lobby. The cashier was either amused or annoyed that we all ordered the same thing.

Michelle and I picked a restaurant on Restaurant Row. I had a bowl of minestrone soup and a portabella and Parmesan salad. Then we finished walking the 10 blocks to the Nederlander Theatre to see RENT.

I wish I could more completely describe how I felt watching this musical. Part of me wishes I wasn’t so hooked on it. Because, being obsessed with things is just what I do, so how special is it? Anyways, I was nervous that I would like the musical as much as I enjoyed the movie. They are, after all, different from each other. The stories are the same, but told in different ways.

The set was a mix of blue and purple. To the right was a platform where the life support meetings took place and under it, was the orchestra. There were two tables in the middle of the stage, above them and to the back was a catwalk-type platform with a stairway leading down. To the left was a doorway and above it a collection of bizarre metallic sculptures (for lack of a better word).

A young man named Angel showed us to our seats, toward the back of the orchestra level. They were very good, we were to the left so the whole stage stretched before us. I was on the aisle, and had an unobstructed view of the stage.

Soon, the Mark began shooting without a script and we were swept in. Michelle leaned over and asked who the “guy in the maroon coat” was, since he was such an excellent singer.

When Today 4 U started, she asked who the woman in the Santa coat was, because she was an awesome singer and dancer. I leaned over and told Michelle that she was Angel, that guy in the maroon coat with the great voice.

At intermission, I clarified for Michelle who was dating who, who used to date, who was gay and who had AIDS. She saw the song Goodbye Love and asked if Mimi was going to die. I didn’t answer.

At Without You, I started tearing up. By I’ll Cover You, the reprise, I stared crying. But then I felt a jab, and I saw Michelle had joined me. Afterwards I practically floated back to the hotel and could hardly calm myself enough to fall asleep. It was such a great day.

NYC Trip: It's Raining, It's Pouring

Today is our Jane Marx tour, insight of Manhattan from a resident and history buff. Maybe a more accurate title would be historian, scholar, etc. Looking out from our 10th floor window I can see it’s raining. But because we’re this far up, I can’t see how hard.

Down at ground level, as we’re getting on the bus, I see its not raining too hard just sprinkles—big-drop sprinkles. As we start moving Jane points to the left and says we have the café with the best New York cheesecake right next to our hotel. She tells us to go there and order a plain cheesecake and black and white cookie. She takes us towards Central Park, points out big buildings, various shopping places and professes her hatred of Starbucks.

We hit the edge of Central Park and Jane tells us about John Lennon and Yoko Ono, showing us their apartment—an entire floor. We run out quick, in the rain, to see Strawberry Fields and Imagine.

Jane tells us the history of the city, celebrity happenings and local lore. How Central Park is man-made to look natural, bedrock, landfill and how many homes Tom Hanks may own. Viva la democrat, down with chain stores, etc. etc.

Our next stop out of the bus was St. John the Divine, which is under construction. We see the pretty floor and hear a choir rehearse. Leaving the Cathedral, there’s an inch of water on the steps and fierce winds. Hold on to your umbrellas, folks!

Soon we took a break for lunch at Katz Diner. It’s the place where the famous When Harry Met Sally scene took place. Jane taught us how to be real New Yorkers and order. Step up, know what we want, and tip generously. We ordered a Pastrami sandwich on rye with mustard, knish and chocolate egg cream. The knish was interesting. Jane said you’d either love it or use it for cement. The inside was the consistency of cement all right. Knish is made of potatoes and other spices and someone said sometimes meat. It was kind of sticky and creamy and had an odd sweet aftertaste. The chocolate egg cream had the mouth feel of a root beer float. I’m not sure what it’s made of, Jane mentioned chocolate syrup, seltzer and has never seen an egg.

Just down the street from Katz is the Seinfeld Diner. Leaving after lunch we ran through about 2 inches of rain on the ground.

Next, Jane took us to the financial district, we saw Wall Street and the Bull. In a couple of miles, we began to see effects of 9/11. Blacken buildings and construction to rebuild. We go into St. Paul’s the only building in the area not touched by the imploding buildings. It was a solemn experience seeing what now is the history of this building. It was such an odd juxtaposition of beautiful design with the arches, painting and chandeliers against the exhibits of chain link fence memorials, pots they fed the relief workers with and table of prayers and religious (not all Christian) symbols seeking solace, peace, understanding and hope.

We drove around the block and saw ground zero, then splashed into Winter Garden observatory area. Jane told us about the construction and recovery since that day what buildings needed to be taken down, how hundreds of body parts are being discovered every day as they remove levels of these buildings.

Cycling back we go through Harlem, see Bill Clinton’s office, Columbia University and a general waterlogged New York.

The bus drops us off at the Marquee Theatre in the Marriot Hotel for Drowsy Chaperone. This play is kind of like theatre for beginners, the narrator introduces each character, outlines the plot and points out cliché events of storytelling. The players do the same thing, turning to the audience making declarations of intent, history or feelings. The play was enjoyable, it was fun seeing all the different set changes and stage mechanics of the changes.

On the way back to the hotel, we were somewhat disoriented. We were going in the right direction, but nothing looked familiar, except that it was wet. A gust a wind broke my umbrella and there was no way to avoid the puddles.

We got back, wet from feet to knees, not to mention dripping hair. There was a about an hour before we had to meet Marilyn for supper, so we changed our clothes and I blow-dried my hair. We tied our shoes to the heater so they would blow dry a little and then wrapped our feet in plastic bags so the residual wetness wouldn’t make our socks soggy.

Marilyn took a group of about eight to Ruby Foo’s on Broadway, It was a Chinese place with a beautiful décor. The walls were adorned with gold and red baroques and golden Buda’s all around. Everyone ordered something different and we shared. I also enjoyed a ginger mojito. Very yummy.

NYC Trip: Up, up and away!

We left from the university parking lot a little after 7:30 a.m. Michelle and I travel with two others. Michelle added a couple of extra people to the trip at last minute and found it would be $800 more to get them in our group for tickets, so she purchased four separate ones. So, we ended up being separate traveling mates from the group.

I have to say this was quite nice. We had a 40 minute ride to the airport (instead of three hours on a bus) then after a fairly short wait, we flew to Detroit and connected to our flight to Newark Airport. Now I pretty much have no concept of time. I think we got in around 3 p.m. We ate in their little holding area (we hadn’t had any lunch) we had to squeeze together and wait for a table for room with seven people. That area was packed, and we were kind of surprised to see so many people who weren’t eating. It really wasn’t a comfortable place to be, yet everyone flocked there.

We ate, Michelle and I had a yummy chicken sandwich with grilled onions and french fries. It looked like a lot, but after scarfing it down, we found it was just the right amount.

The rest of the group went down below to more comfortable chairs and less crowded areas while Michelle and I waited for the group. When we found a monitor that we could see (the one on our level was faded or the sunlight made it unreadable), it said they were on-time, then landed at 4:30. I was started to get worried about where they were. What a start.

Finally they came out and everyone got their bags. The bus came, we loaded on people and luggage. We traveled through the Lincoln Tunnel, crawling through the first half.

The sights outside of the city were interesting. The growing buildings, juxtaposed against stacked apartments. Then there was a castle-like structure, almost surrounded by a moat that we saw was a library (with a German or Polish looking name).

After some time we were actually in, traveling through the maze of tall buildings. I noticed spanish grafiti below the ramp that we passed through. We got to the hotel, got our room keys, jumped out and jetted up to our room. Only to jet back down and do a walking tour of our four block area: Rockefeller Center, Times Square, TKTS booth. We passed the NBC Studios, got in the way of the locals and marveled at the lights.

After the tour we broke off into a group of six and went to the Stardust Diner. That’s where the hopeful actors and actresses sing on tables between serving your food. It was a short wait to get in, and after talking to others in our group they were discouraged by the line down the street and didn’t go.

I ate the Captain Video—which was a grilled chicken breast sandwich with avocado, salsa and the usual burger fixings. For dessert I had a pecan tart, a little dry, but still good. Our waitress was a cute blond who was sweet and chatty—and a pretty good singer (and not all of them were good singers).

I think we got back to our hotel at around 11 or so. We really weren’t too exhausted, probably running on the thrill that we were in New York City and the trip ahead of us.

Bleeding Feet, Beads, Sweet Potato fries ...

I am totally bummed out. Last year at this time, it was Spring Break. And Kerry and I were in San Francisco.

We walked up the lovely bleeding feet hill to Buena Vista Park. Then Kerry wandered further into the park while I enjoyed the view from where I was posted, enjoying my bleeding feet.

Then we wandered to Golden Gate park where we saw people playing soccer, riding bikes, buying drugs, having picnics. We checked out this Art area/studio/Japanese tea house in the middle of the park and Kerry rode the inside merry-go-round.

We killed some time by exploring Haight Street, going into stores, coughing our ways out of others. We couldn't decide on anything to buy Jenny from Postively Haight Street. (And now I wish I bought the lavendar eyemask from another one of the stores closer to the 555 Haight Guesthouse).

At about noon or so was time for the St. Patrick's Day parade! We sat down on Market Street, across from the Opheum theatre. We had our snacks, water and sunblock on hand ... and watch a three or so hour parade. And ... it was awesome.

Except ... I realized the cute little kids beside us were getting all the attention, toys and candy. So then as one "hot" firefighter passed by with beads, I stuck out my hands ... and he motioned me into the street to get them. Score!

After being beaded, and the parade was over we went to the Museum of Modern Art. It was interesting and sometimes fun, but I didn't enjoy it as much as I did the Asian Art Museum. We were both had a little touch of heat exhaustion, so we didn't stay too long.

We ate at Minnie's BBQ (on the Haight) ... where I had the best Texas Ribeye sandwich and most awesome sweet potato fries.


*Sighs*

1.) View from cool gallery thing in the middle of the Park.
2.) Gallery from the ground
3.) Haight-Ashbury
4.) Fire engine from Parade
5.) Clown flashing us
6.) Ghiradelli ... okay, we didn't go there this day ... but I probably gave them over $100 ... we thought a good tagline would be "Heaven on Earth"

*sighs*

Space Monkeys

*** Warning, Warning ... This is a positive post! ***

I was able to do something I've always enjoyed but really haven't had the opportunity to indulge in lately. I finished two books in two days. Ahh, the rush of a good book, how I missed thee. Slowly I enter the world I used to know: casual reading. No more taking notes, learning terms, worrying that each miniscule detail will haunt me later on a midterm or final.

But nonetheless...This isn't what this entry is about.

As I was mowing lawn, I took the opportunity to reflect on the uneasy feeling I have been immersed in. It came down to being disappointed that I had to settle into the "rest of my life" and I was frustrated because I wasn't where I wanted to be at this point. (then a light bulb clicked on saying that i didn't have to! 22! This isn't a stagnent part of my life)

Athletes, actors ... Famous people ... say they always knew they were destined for greatness. I never knew that, quite the opposite. I knew that if I was to have anything at all, I needed to work and fight for it. And it this point ... I lost the will to fight.

I don't know how it happened, I settled into a mindset that circumstances commanded this was all I got. I had no control.

I had no further goals, no ambitions. What was the point? This was it.

It was best materialized and visable when I was looking at magazines sadly--checking out the "managing your time," "asking for the raise," "health issues you should know." No fun stuff. Then I was watching kids at our golf event, they were so cute and having such simple fun. And I couldn't relate. I couldn't remember how to feel that way. That realization gave me such pangs. I never wanted to lose the childish spirit.

Mowing lawn, it came to me.

I lost focus--the problem wasn't that I was stuck and there weren't any goals or opportunities left for me. I was creating my own anguish. I was so worried about all of the stuff I didn't have and couldn't control. I questioned every decision I made and beat myself up for every wasted moment. I lost focus, I lost my path to greatness.

The dangerous part of the daily grind is that numbing lull in the path. It distracts you from yourself, hides your path even though you are steps away from it. It kept me unsettled. Distracted me so I couldn't find a routine that would give stability as I continued my journey.

My chest tightened. I can't recall many times before that I felt evil so close.

This is either lofty thinking or totally unoriginal. But it is real to me.

I read Fight Club yesterday--maybe that's why it clicked. Last year, I watched the movie with my mom. After declaring it was fucked up, I told her how much I could relate. She looked worried.

There are many truths there though.

You always here about near death experiences (near life in the book) and how it wakes people up from the droning hell of their life--but the point of a near LIFE experience is to shake the drone by actually living--a quaint concept, really.

Sometimes their realizations scare me with the statement of greatness and all...But when you're asked what you want to be when you grow up, its something larger than life ... And from grade school on it's just one big reality crashing disappointment.

But what it comes done to is being true to yourself, staying on the path, controlling your destiny. Not sitting back, internalizing the condeming lull, letting Tyler Durden take control. I was letting my internal Tyler tell me I was a space monkey, shot out to do the bidding of the Gods who didn't care about my safe return.

I am NOT a space monkey! And I kicked my Tyler out, I'm sure he found a nice comfy corner in the back of my mind to settle in for a day when i'm feeling low. But he's not going to be popping up making soap right now.


...

"It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything."


"We are the middle children of history, raised by television to believe that someday we'll be millionaires and movie stars and rock stars, but we won't. And we're just learning this fact."


"We don't have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a revolution against culture. The great depression is our lives. We have a spiritual depression."

...

all from mowing the lawn.

Travis Jervey Quest Continues ...

I got this email today ...

Hi Stacey... somehow i ran across your article online about the search for your very own Travis Jervey jersey.. i was just wondering, since it has been a few years, did you ever get your own jersey?

Obviously by my screen name (it was a combination of jrvy 32) you can tell i am a fan also!

Thanks, Sara W

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of the obsession, or need a refresher ... here's the article I wrote that she's referring to:

As printed in "Insight," December 2002
Blurring the Edges: Questing for a Travis Jervey

As the holiday season approaches, instead of visions of sugarplums dancing through my head, I have visions of Travis Jervey jerseys.

I have been on a quest for a Travis Jervey jersey since 1998. Travis Jervey, affectionately known as T.J., was a back-up running back and special teams star for the Green Bay Packers. I was first acquainted with T.J. in 1998 preseason, during “The American Bowl” in Japan. Since it was played on the other side of the world, this game started at 11 p.m. The first-string players were done playing by 11:30 and I needed to find a way to stay awake.

T.J. caught my eye, and so the obsession begins. My story of obsession is a long, sad one that only seems to intensify with time. Friends first meeting me know initially about T.J., but do not fully realize the immense depth of my passion. Even I sometimes question this passion. There are plenty of players who are now superstars I probably should have picked that night. I am attracted to the obscure as a way to be unique. I just hope once I get the T.J. jersey I am equally enthusiastic as I am now.

Into the 1998 season, Dorsey Levens broke his ankle and eventually T.J. got the starting role. T.J. getting more playing time and recognition thrilled me. He got his first NFL touchdown Nov. 1, 1998. I still remember the details of the afternoon. Before the ink on the Travis Jervey trading cards could dry, he broke his ankle the next week against the Pittsburgh Steelers. I remember the details of that day all too clearly.

I suppose Santa did not bring me my T.J. jersey that year because he thought football or T.J. might be a passing phase. He did not want the elves to labor away on such an extravagant gift if it was not going to be appreciated.

Too bad Santa was not clairvoyant. T.J. signed with the San Francisco 49ers Mar. 22, 1999, and four years later, I am still obsessed with him and crave the jersey even though T.J. has traveled about the NFL and now rests with the Atlanta Falcons. The quest for a T.J. jersey has such a hold over me that a little part of me has begun to dread the holidays and birthdays. It started with clothes boxes, giving me hope that it might hold the jersey. Maybe this will be it, I think. Everything rational in me is saying it is not my T.J. jersey, but I cannot help but hope. It is always in the back of my mind.

As time passes I see the likelihood of getting my jersey fade. Now I am even hopeful for boxes other than those meant clothes. I rationalize that Mom put it in an odd box to throw me off track. I realized I had a problem when I was seriously considering how she could have folded the jersey to fit in a ring box.

My mom has been sneaky lately, plotting with people she does not usually plot with. My heart leaps, but my mind pulls me back, as to not get my hopes up. Will this be my year? Will my quest for the elusive Travis Jervey jersey be fulfilled?

Thought of the Moment: “Learning to ignore things is one of the great paths to inner peace.” ~ Robert J. Sawyer

Pictures: The Man. And the Jersey. :-)

Sideways Under the Tuscan Sun

Taking a page out of Apryll's book--I know I will never have the flair, vocabulary or style of Miss Apryll's brilliant reviews, but here are my thoughts on a couple of movies I have recently seen.

"Under the Tuscan Sun" would have worked better as a novel than a movie. This makes me nervous because it was very loosely adapted from a novel of the same name ... and until I read the book, I am assuming the villa is the only character that is remotely similar.

The first scene was a very poor set up, a student's book release? It had me wondering how that guy fit in the story ... and why he was so attached to her. The way she found out about her husband could be some form of poetic justice, but really was just awkward.

Talk about awkward ... what is with falling on the floor during the first scene at divorce hotel? I mean, come on, who does that? She just dropped, no warning, no effort to lessen the impact. Yeah right.

Still in the early stages of the movie, she is ambling very poetically about town during the tour. She sits and scribes a postcard for a fellow travel-mate. It is very beautiful, and what one hopes to experience engulfed in the romanticism of Italy. But reading the finished product, the postcard's owner scoffs "even tastes like purple" as a bunch of fluffy crap. This moment is a huge scene killer. They so carefully brought us into the feeling of this place, making the atmosphere a complex character but then completely broke the trance. What I would have pointed out to him is he was complaining about writing the postcard, she did you a favor, send the damn thing anyways.

Throughout the film, the character Frances was developing in all the wrong ways, which, I suppose, mirrors life. She was starting new in so many ways: moves to another country, she doesn't speak the native language, buys a rundown house, has no friends in the same time zone. But it always comes back to the same thing ... she is recently divorced. This is the only thing she is fighting for. Man after random man, she is seeking someone to fill a void. I guess the journey of her tale shows there are other more important voids she needs to seek, and after she completes these aspects of her being, life falls into place. I guess I just expect more from her, and this mind set disappoints me.

Another disappointing moment was the time lapse when they kissed on the beach. Geeze.

There were some points of the movie I felt could have gone another way. I would never want Pawel to die, but during the flag throwing ceremony (celebration?) after the flag plummets and comes crashing down directly on his head, he pops up with only a bump. Talk about anticlimactic. If he would have died, it would have given me something to feel instead of rolling my eyes. Of course, then that would have negated the ending (wedding in the yard) and moments of truth (claiming him as her family) along the way. *Sighs* Okay.

How about the matter of the crazy blond woman? I was convinced she was a figment of Frances's imagination until the fountain scene. But there's a twist! This carefree, oblivious woman seemed like everything Frances yearned to be. It would have worked if she was only real in the mind of Frances. She inspired Frances ... big things happened after their encounters. A brilliant move would have been to have the audience think she was real, but then reveal at the fountain that she was Frances's surpressed side. Her moment of clarity could be as Martini pulls her out of the fountain. And we see that it is Frances wet and broken and not the blond. ... but that might lead people to think that she was crazy ...

There were some good, even beautiful, moments in the movie. I enjoyed when the line she gave when the baby was born...giving the baby to the light, but since I can't remember the quote it sounds like the making of a horror story.

When the house was completed and the Polish workers unveiled the wall it was a very artistic moment. It was touching, and the movie clicked. The wedding was a good way to end the movie as well, but not because of young love. Frances was shown that her dreams came true, just not the way she intended. And then, when all the pieces had fallen into their rightful place, exhausted from trying to make life happen, she laid down, and there was the ladybug ... and someone to share her life with.

Oddly enough, I enjoyed the movie more when I watched the commentary--because I didn't have to hear the cheesy lines, but enjoy the essence of the movie, the Italian scenery.

Another wine indulgence -- movie -- that had my taste buds salivating was "Sideways." During our wine tour in Napa and Sonoma Valley, every winery mentioned it. It was marketed as an embodiment of their lives. I was looking forward to the California scenery and wine insight, taking me back to that perfect day, but all I got was a week-long bachelor party with two people attending. I was horribly disappointed. I guess I built it up too much in my head. Compared to this movie, "Under the Tuscan Sun" was brilliant.

The "Sideways" commentary was no better. They were pretencious, using big words and then commenting on their brilliant vocabulary. There was a lapse of insight here and there, but soon marred by ogling women.

My frolicking through the wine world of California ... From Top (Left to Right) Wine Tour: Statue at Viansa (Sonoma Valley), a great way to start the day. Viansa barrels. The other side of ViansaNew sprouts on the Viansa vines. Lamar, the Canadian wine expert at Kirkland Ranch (Napa Valley). View of the Valley from Kirkland's terrace. If you look closeyly you can see the cars lined up to go home. It's a two hour drive in the morning and night to commute. It's too expensive to live there, so they make the daily trek that in low traffic times takes 45 minutes at the most.