Pre-storm update

Taking a moment to take a moment. I got up and ran three miles this morning outside and it was the best three miles I've run in a long time. I kept telling myself, "Be happy the sun is shining and you are outside." Anticipating a hurricane is no fun. I finally found battery-operated fans in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond miracle. Then the challenge became finding D batteries. This is a situation where employees laugh in your face when you ask them if they have D batteries. My dad finally found some at Office Depot, where he literally filled his shopping cart in triumph. He's working on his generator right now. My cousin from Houma is coming, so I'm washing bedding and trying to de-pet hair his room as much as possible. "I like animals!" he insisted when I warned him that they can be a bit much. Everyone thinks they like animals until they go from living with zero to four overnight. I guess in the grand scheme of things, a few pets and their antics are small potatoes compared to your house being covered in water. I haven't gone overboard on buying groceries. I figure we can live on peanut butter by the spoonful for a few days. Right now it's sunny and you'd never know a storm is coming. It is very strange. I think a lot of people around here are having serious PTSD flashbacks from three years ago this weekend. Today is the five-year anniversary of my grandmother's death. She loved weather. She loved weather events, weather forecasts, and the weatherman. Everyone is just basically running around like a straight-up lunatic. Many gas stations are out of gas. One of B.'s school friends just informed me there is nary a loaf of bread left in the city. Every Wal-Mart in town closed at 11 a.m. this morning. Which was kind of weird. I was in a nearby parking lot after having coffee and beignets with my parents and sister and there was a giant emergency loudspeaker from Wal-Mart droning, "THIS WAL-MART IS NOW CLOSED. EVERY WAL-MART IN TOWN IS NOW CLOSED." If you ask me, they closed a little too early, but I guess the employees needed to get home and prepare, in which case, I'm glad they got to go home and do that. Being a town that people evacuate to rather than from is a bizarre experience. I'd certainly rather be in the situation I'm in than a person fleeing my home and not knowing if it's going to be there when I get back. I do worry about things like telephone poles or trees falling on my house, but I have been told and know that I am a catastrophizer. School is canceled for days to come. The power will probably go out tonight or tomorrow morning. I want to be a good hostess for my cousin and make him feel safe and comfortable. I want to help B. not be stressed about school and other things. I want us all to be safe. I want this hurricane to weaken and not hit my state or anyone else's.

Monday update

Another weekend, another Monday.

On Friday evening, we went out for pad Thai and spring rolls and frozen yogurt. On Saturday, I have no idea what I did. Seriously. How can I forget so quickly? I stopped by an estate sale and browsed. I went to the bookstore and bought a textbook. I went to the dog park with Zuko, who might be dumb and a pain in the butt a lot of the time but is a great dog park dog. He doesn't bother anyone, he doesn't scare the nervous dogs, he doesn't participate in the big group scuffles, and he just runs around a pees on everything he passes. I visited with the fiancée of one of B.'s school friends. I like both of them a lot, I like their dogs, and I'd like to get to know them better. I met B. later that afternoon for a quick lemonade at the coffee shop.

I spent much of the rest of the afternoon shopping for and preparing this salad. Don't bother making this salad if you don't have a strong affinity for chopping. There is lots of chopping involved. I didn't make anywhere near the whole recipe and it still made about a million servings. I am already sort of sick of it, but we will be eating it for many days to come. The best things about this salad are (a) the dressing and (b) the fact that it's really pretty to look at. It tastes great, but it might not be balanced in the effort/enjoyment ratio (at least for me, but then I'm sort of lazy). If you can get someone to make it FOR you, that's the way to go. I followed the recipe pretty closely as far as ingredients except I didn't use nuts (B. doesn't like cashews and I forgot to get a substitute) or bean sprouts (they were rotting in their container at the store, gross) and I used whole wheat linguine. Overall: thumbs up but kind of a PITA to make.

On Sunday, it rained the entire day, and I spent much of the day lying around. I attempted to go running on the treadmill, but that didn't go well, so I took to the couch and watched hours upon hours of one of my all-time favorite TV shows, the first two seasons of which have been placed on YouTube in their entirety by various people who must have coordinated their efforts somehow. How happy this makes me I can't even really tell you. I am loath to post the links because I think the longer they are shrouded in secrecy the longer they will remain online before being pulled. Here's a hint: this show ran for four seasons. A lot of people loved it, but a lot of people hated it. It hasn't been released on DVD. It has seven core characters. It rhymes with "dirtysomething."

It's still so, so, so good. Now that I am actually the characters' ages instead of half that (as I was when it was on the air), I see it with whole new eyes, and I don't know that I ever saw myself as the Melissa or the Ellyn of the group even though that's who I am. In the pilot, Melissa is 31. 31! Stop, I can't even think about it. Sometimes I don't enjoy some of the fantasy stuff, but it turns out that I still adore the episode about the couple who used to live in Hope and Michael's house and the WWII scenes about their life. I first heard of "Stardust," of course, in Taking Care of Terrific when Hawk plays it during the secret midnight Swan Boat ride, but I never heard it until seeing this episode all those years ago. And it has remained one of my favorite songs in life ever since, especially when sung by Harry Connick, Jr. or Nat King Cole. Anyway. Just like I always have, I cried during this episode.

I also cried when Michael walked in, face crumpling when he saw that Melissa had brought the menorah. (Their fight during that episode = still awesome. Another awesome fight = Michael and Elliot in the office after they lose the business.) I cried when Melissa and Gary talked about how together, they brought up a couple of kids. I cried when Elliot sat at Ethan's bedside, post-rocket accident, apologizing. I cried when Nancy said, "It's just something about the way his mind works." As hard as I try, I still cannot like Susannah. It was great to watch the very beginning of the Miles Drentell saga, knowing now just how long it will last. I've cried so much just watching these episodes that I don't think I'm fully prepared for what comes next. Everyone remembers seasons three and four -- the cancer and the death and the major stuff, with "Second Look" in season four as the sort of emotional climax of the entire series. But seasons one and two are also really good. I don't know what to say except that I love this show and apparently always will. I am going to look back and find my 30-page paper on the evolution of Nancy Krieger Weston. I remain oddly proud of that paper.

Also this weekend: I finished Pilgrims by Elizabeth Gilbert, which I really liked. I liked every single story. I feel like people roll their eyes at Eat, Pray, Love now, but I loved that book, and I think she's a really good fiction writer. I also started Watchmen, a gift from B. As usual with this sort of graphic novel, I have no idea what's going on as I start it, but I'm hoping all will become clear.

In searching through files which contain my high school and college papers for that damn Nancy paper, I just found a "pre-test" I wrote for English III on August 20, 1991. The assignment was to write about a book we read over the summer. Mine was called "Meg's Brave Fight" and was all about the life-or-death decisions Meg Powers had to make in Ellen Emerson White's Long Live the Queen. A book I just re-read last week at age 33. I had no memory of writing this paper almost 17 years ago to the day, but reading it again makes me unspeakably happy. Being a packrat is not always a bad thing. And now I am awash in memories. I just spent the past few hours looking through old floppy discs -- is that what you call them? the little square ones? -- on my old desktop for papers saved during college on my parents' computer, and I found a ton of old papers, but not the Nancy one. I DID find the notebook in which I wrote pages and pages of notes while watching the Nancy-centric episodes which I analyzed in my paper. And an analysis for yet another English class on how James Joyce's "The Dead" was the inspiration for an episode of this show. Which it was. The professor wrote in her margin comments, "I remember that episode!" It's the tie that binds, apparently.

I spotted files in my filing cabinet with the following labels: First Apartment Mementos, Mail Received at Camp, Ally McBeal, River Phoenix, 20th Birthday Cards, Chicago Hope, and Homicide: Life on the Streets Drinking Game. It might be time to cull some of these files. GOOD LORD.

In other thoughts, I really enjoyed reading this columm, namely because its author is smart enough to know that Tiger Eyes is the best book Judy Blume ever wrote.

Misc. Thoughts

(1) I am sitting in my favorite coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon with my headphones in and an iced coffee. It is a good way to spend an afternoon.

(2) This morning while running three miles outside and sweating my face off, I started to push myself to continue with all sorts of irrational but inspirational thoughts. It is what I do; it is the only way I can keep from veering off to the side of the road and hurling myself face-first into someone's bed of caladiums. This morning my thoughts of fortitude were mainly focused on the women's Olympic marathoners, whose race B. and I caught part of over appetizers (pesto bread, hummus) and Blue Moons last night. When I was struggling to get my breathing into a normal rhythm and feeling like my facial capillaries were boiling beneath my skin not unlike molten lava, I thought about that runner who got the foot cramp in the middle of the race. And I said to myself, "Self, I'm sure that foot cramping marathoner would not be complaining about the opportunity to run at a snail's pace like you around these beautiful lakes so just get a grip on yourself and finish your measly three miles!" It helped, it truly did.

(3) It's been a nice weekend so far. On Friday evening, we got take-out and watched Smart People. I both liked and didn't like it, mostly veering on the side of like. My main complaint is that the romance between Dennis Quaid and Sarah Jessica Parker was soulless and unbelievable, but other than that, I liked the quirk of the characters and the overall film. It was nice to see Ellen Page in a pre-Juno role; she was excellent, as was the always reliable and hilarious Thomas Haden Church. Saturday morning, we woke up early; I went running wanted to stop at two miles but told myself, "If you can run 2 miles, you can run 3." So I did. I ate some leftover stir-fry for lunch, returned some graphic novels to the library, bought a visor to run in to help with the blinding summer glare, and took a long nap. After appetizers yesterday evening, B. and I headed to the wedding reception of a school friend, which was in a backyard and was beautifully laid back and relaxing ... as far as I'm concerned, backyard wedding receptions are the way to go ... had a very nice time except now kicking myself not to have applied bug spray now that I'm sporting about 25 new mosquito welts ... I should know better. I wish there were some kind of natural way to protect oneself against bug bites or something I could eat or drink that would make them think, "This blood is going to be foul, let's move along."

(4) I just finished reading the reissue of The President's Daughter. As I've written before, I have a long history with this series. I have my original copies from the mid-1980s. They are tattered, torn, and deeply beloved by me. The author came upon those entries and e-mailed me about five years ago, saying that she was writing a fourth book in the series, which has since come out. The books were reprinted several years back with truly odious covers (and if I'm not mistaken, the pages were basically xeroxed copies of the original pages), and the latest reissues have much better covers, are all-around first class in quality, and have been revised/updated by the author to add modern things like the Internet. And I'm thrilled that they're back in print and I hope a whole new generation of readers embraces them. Truly. And I am fine with certain updates to bring them into modern times. And I almost want to hold my tongue about this because I have loved these books for most of my life, and I love them still. But the little tweaks to the Preston stuff in the first book really bothered me. I don't like how when describing him, something like "and he's so handsome" was added, and I don't like how Meg talks about having a crush on him. These are very minor and short-lived little moments in the book, but they leapt out at me and made me squirm a little bit. It is clear when reading book four that now that Meg is an adult, a different kind of relationship with Preston is inching into the realm of being conceivable. That's not a spoiler; it doesn't happen in the book -- after all, she is still only 18 in book four -- but it starts to vaguely feel not altogether out of the realm of possibility. And I'm fine with that. Truly. I just do not believe the seeds needed to go back and retroactively be planted in book one when she is 15. Preston was already portrayed in books 1-3 as a wonderful, cool, hip guy who was their family's best friend -- in other words, we already know how important he is to Meg and what a rock he is for their family -- we just don't need the handsome, crush, etc. stuff that early on in the game, and I wish it would not have been added. (I always, always, always assumed Preston was gay, and learning that he is not really threw me for a loop, and so I'm starting all of these thoughts from a little bit of a discombobulated place anyway, for that reason.) I am almost frightened to see if more of these little hints about him are placed in the next two books. ANYWAY -- other than that, I loved reading the reissue, and I can't wait to start the second and third, because these books get better and better as they go along.

(5) Later ... I guess that is about it for now. B. made pesto and it's time to eat!

Steven Curtis Chapman

My siblings and I have always loved the song "I Will Be Here" by Steven Curtis Chapman. It is a beautiful song. The live version, not the original version, which has way too many instruments and is kind of cheesy. This live version that has gone on many a mix tape and mix CD over the years. I've never known any of his other music. Wait, I take that back. The summer at camp when I was a junior counselor, the summer between junior and senior years of high school, we learned "When You Are a Soldier" in sign language. (Learning songs in sign language = big thing at camp. And at school -- I still remember "We Are the World" from fifth grade. Anyway.) But other than that, I've never really known much about old Steven Curtis Chapman.

I just watched his family on Larry King, and I have to say first and foremost that Larry King is a complete creep. I am sorry. But if you are interviewing a family about their child who died tragically, please get the child's name right. And when you are politely and graciously corrected on the child's name, please don't get it wrong AGAIN. WHAT AN ASSHOLE. I am so disgusted with him right now. One the one hand, we had Robin Roberts interviewing them on "Good Morning America." And she was, as she always is, gentle and sharp and completely believable in her kindness and empathy. The contrast between these two interviewers was striking and shocking. Larry King is shocking! Am I the only one who feels this way? He is horrible! Like, way to make the grieving family feel even worse, Larry!

Steven Curtis Chapman has a beautiful family. My parents believe like they believe, and I think it is a beautiful thing. To me, it seems sort of delusional in a way, but I don't mean that in a mean way. I really do think it is beautiful. If that is how the family is getting through this, more power to them. They seem like warm, loving, wonderful people.

I'm not sure if the live version of the song is available through iTunes or what album it came from. I don't even know where we originally got it. I hope it's available somewhere because it's really beautiful. It doesn't have organ or violins or anything cheesy ... just acoustic guitar and some piano, I think. Okay! This just in ... it's on "The Live Adventure" album. It's the perfect wedding song to me, but it's also a song that makes me think of friends and family members. It's just about loving people your whole life through.

Searching, searching, searching ... okay! Here it is. Beautiful song.

You're nice, Steven Curtis Chapman & family. Suck it, Larry King.

Motivation

I went to the gym today to go running. Lucky for me, I caught the last fifteen minutes or so of A Knight's Tale, which are a great fifteen minutes to keep your feet moving, even with no sound and with closed captioning. It occurred to me as I watched the end of this movie (SPOILER ALERT) that this is actually a really good movie. When the prince knights Heath Ledger's character, it's genuinely moving. And when Heath Ledger fights Rufus Sewell in the final duel (my sorrow at seeing Rufus Sewell play a villain is deep, true, and documented), it's genuinely thrilling. At least it was to me on the treadmill today. The thing I like about this movie is even though it's a silly Middle Ages romp with modern rock music (and even though Shannyn Sossamon can't really hold her own with the rest of the cast, her gorgeousness notwithstanding), the actors play it all completely straight. The reactions of the prince, the crowd, and especially his friends to William's ultimate knighting and victory are so heartfelt and loving and real (how awesome is Paul Bettany as Chaucer?), and Heath Ledger never lets on that this is really a silly movie. He acts like it really matters to his character that his dad heard him being addressed as "sir." It is easy, looking back, to see why this was the movie that made Heath Ledger a star. I really liked him, and he moved me in both silly and serious films, and I am very sad that he died.

And this is more than I ever thought I would say about A Knight's Tale, for pete's sake. But it, along with the Olympic footage of the U.S./China water polo match and the women cycling in the rain under the Great friggin' Wall of China, really motivated me today to run three miles instead of two, the longest I've gone since resuming exercising this summer. So that felt great. This evening I went to yoga with my dad and we did so much floor work that my forehead started becoming permanently attached to my mat and had pains shooting through it, so that was a less pleasant fitness experience, but what're you gonna do?

I guess all I can do is prepare to watch Mad Men and face the week ahead. And make these (I used chocolate chip cookie dough and alternated mini-Reese's cups, Rolos, and regular Hershey's Kisses, and they were easy and delicious and perfect). And try to watch as much Olympic gymnastic footage as humanly possible because it is awesome. My older brother texted us in excitement when Li Ning lit the Olympic cauldron because we were glued to the gymnastics coverage in 1984 along with the rest of the universe, for that was the year of Li Ning and Bart Connor and Mary Lou Retton and MITCH GAYLORD. Seeing Li Ning was like seeing an old friend. It was funny that my brother remembered that summer. That made me happy. And now, for nostaglia's sake ... remember, she needed a perfect 10 to get the gold medal:

Getaway

It was decided that an end-of-summer (not weather-wise, but freedom from school-wise) night away was in order. So we headed to the quaint and lovely town and stayed at a bed and breakfast. I liked this bed and breakfast a lot because it had cats, a dog, a patio, homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, a six-pack of my favorite beer stocked in the fridge for our arrival, a hammock, a rope swing, beautiful grounds, an antique bathtub with bathsalts and soap that smelled like apple Jolly Ranchers (in a good way), and little guestbooks full of messages from people who've stayed there over the years which made for great reading somehow, showing little glimpses into people's lives from all over the world.

We got up early in the morning to cross the state line into Mississippi, where we hiked down to some "waterfalls." It was great just to be outside, hearing nothing but the bugs and the birds and the water. It's important to get away sometimes. I recommend it.

Yoga

The truth is that when it comes to utilitarian/authoritarian/no nonsense yoga teachers vs. hippy/dippy/sunlight & moonbeams yoga teachers, I've decided I prefer the latter. Truly! If I'm going to be focusing on shakras, I'd rather be hearing about them from someone who talks about opening our hearts to compassion and love and how the light within her honors the light within all of us and all that jazz because it all just gets me way more into the mood. I still can't do many of the poses but it was nice last night to meet a tiny yoga man next to me who encouraged me and said that yoga comes back to you quickly. Yes, I thought, but only if one was there in the first place. Anyway, I'm sore but feel great after the class. I just collapsed into child's pose as the class held downward dog for five hundred years and then started lifting their legs into the air one at a time and then pulling them to their chests because I just could not hold those poses for that long. But other than that, I pulled most things off, including coming nose to nose with the tiny yoga man in prayer squat (close quarters; crowded class), which was semi-awkward. I was trying to breathe and balance and not fall over and there he was a centimeter from my face, hi. I averted my eyes and prayed while squatting for it to be over soon.

Meanwhile, I have come to terms with the fact that I think I have now seen every single episode of Reba.

Favorite running showtunes

I like running to Green Day as much as the next person, okay? But sometimes nothing makes me feel more footloose and fancy free on my turtle-like jogs than an upbeat showtune. Here are some of my favorites to run to, in no particular order:

1.) Waiting for the Light to Shine from Big River

2.) You Can't Stop the Beat from Hairspray

3.) Oklahoma from Oklahoma (There is something about this song that makes me so happy while running ... I think it's how happy the characters are about their brand new state ... they are overjoyed ... it releases endorphins in me, I cannot help it.)

4.) 30/90 from tick, tick...boom!

5.) The Dark I Know Well from Spring Awakening

6.) You Can't Get a Man with a Gun from Annie Get Your Gun (This song is a perfect of example of how Irving Berlin wrote some of the greatest lyrics of all time.)

7.) Another Day from Rent

8.) Mamma Mia! from Mamma Mia! (not really a showtune, but whatever)

9.) Forget About the Boy from Thoroughly Modern Millie

10.) NYC from Annie

11.) The Seven Deadly Virtues from Camelot

12.) Angry Inch from Hedwig and the Angry Inch

13.) Who Loves You from Jersey Boys

14.) Pharaoh's Dreams Explained from Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

15.) What Would Brian Boitano Do? from South Park

16.) Run, Freedom, Run from Urinetown

17.) Defying Gravity from Wicked

18.) The Book Report from You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown

19.) The Lees of Old Virginia from 1776

20.) Fame: I'm Gonna Live Forever from Fame

P.S. Totally open to suggestions!

Sunday Run Day

This morning I took leave of my senses and decided I should run outside since it was a mere 74 degrees outside. My (old) route (that I haven't been on since resuming my exercise routine) has little shade and soon enough I was sweating profusely and my feet like they were being stabbed with hot pokers because I unwisely did not wear my trusty coolmax socks. But I panted and trudged through my two little miles and made it home safe and sound, where I juiced three grapefruits and felt whole again, noting that the temperature had ascended during my run to 85. We're having heat indexes of 110, though. Awesome! While running, I started thinking about my favorite running songs -- then, now, or both.

Eliza's Ultimate Running Mix as of today ...

1.) Get Up by Bleu
2.) Don't Know Why You Stay by the Essex Green
3.) I Hear the Bells by Mike Doughty
4.) Our Love by Rhett Miller
5.) American Idiot by Green Day
6.) I Get Along by the Libertines
7.) Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet
8.) Ain't No Other Man by Christina Aguilera
9.) Just What I Need by Rufus King
10.) Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson
11.) Bend and Break by Keane
12.) My Feet Can't Fail Me Now by the Dirty Dozen Brass Band
13.) Taking the Long Way Around by the Dixie Chicks
14.) I Believe in a Thing Called Love by the Darkness
15.) Punk Rock Girl by the Dead Milkmen
16.) Viva la Vida by Coldplay
17.) Who's Got a Match by Biffy Clyro
18.) Better Things by The Bouncing Souls
19.) Save the Last Dance by Michael Buble
20.) Lose Yourself by Eminem

List of favorite running showtunes to follow.

Weekend

It's been a busy weekend and a fun one. It is very strange to spend a weekend with B. when neither of us has any schoolwork to do. Holla!

Last night, we went to a happy hour with some of my school friends, and then visited for a while with some of his. We've been watching lots and lots of Mad Men and somehow it is never enough. This morning, I went on a two-mile run and to have iced coffee with my brother's ex-girlfriend, whom I love and adore. We visited on the patio with her dog, whom I also love and adore. It was very nice. B. and I went to lunch where I had a veggie sandwich, inspired by my coffee date who told me she's gone vegan, and then we went to Target, where I forgot about my new vegan plan and bought a half-pound of honey roasted turkey from the deli. Whoops! We ended up helping a stranger jump her dead battery because that is just what you do to help your fellow human beings even when you are all melting into the asphalt of the Target parking lot.

Tonight I went to the home of my old friend who is moving away to go to grad school for writing. Does anyone want to buy a REALLY CUTE house? If so, let me know and I can hook you up! She made amazing Indian food ... naan and spinach/potatoes and eggplant and chicken curry and there was also chicken mole and it was all so delicious that I started sweating. I will miss my friend but know we will keep in touch. I know she is destined for great things. She is one of the few people I know who is actually taking the chance to do what she knows she was born to do. Who does that? Nobody, it seems. It is a beautiful thing.

Anyway, veganism. My very healthy and fit friend / semi-sister-in-law insists that she gets lots of protein from protein-rich bread and pasta and beans and things of that nature but I'm not sure I could pull it off. But Lord knows I don't really get excited about meat and could do without it. I'm just not sure about the cheese part. And I'm trying really hard not to eat food that is not really food, and it seems like vegans rely a lot on frozen organic vegan burritos and Morningstar and Boca and I'm just not sure how I feel about those foods anymore. Conflicted!

I don't know what else to say. I'm so burned out from my 60-book summer that I can't bring myself to read anything. I started Black Swan Green but can't get into it despite the fact that B. tells me he knows I'd love it. Funny story (at least to me): At my friend's house tonight, a couple of people were talking about a horrible book that one of their book club members insisted they read and how everyone in the group hated it so much that they demanded that the group leader veto the book before they had to finish it and discuss it. I asked what the book was and it was The Brothers K! As in my beloved book. I said, "I give that book as a gift!" Then I thought for a second and said to my friend who was hosting the party and is moving away, "Wait, I think I gave that book to YOU!" And she laughed and said that I did. I understand that it's a tough start and takes a while to get into, and I tried to tell them that, but I didn't go into my usual hard-sell freak mode ... I told them I understand why some people wouldn't like it and that I respect their opinion because I really do. I didn't tell them that their lives will be better and their souls richer for reading it, even though I believe that. I am trying to tone down my maniacal evangelism when it comes to things, especially when it's something that someone has already read 80 pages of and loathes with his entire being.

More tomorrow.