Fat Tuesday / Ash Wednesday

Yesterday we had a holiday. I woke up early, of course, and headed to the grocery store for a big shopping trip and was home by 9 a.m. I don't really remember what I did. Oh yeah, I went on a run. 3 miles on a beautiful day. Then I had an impromptu lunch with M. and my favorite five-year-old, her daughter. We ate BBQ chicken pizza and drank frozen lemonade and it was great to have some girl time. I went to a cooking store where the owner fussed at me for not having cash, snarling that she might as well give me the shamrock cookie cutter for free for what running the charge would cost her. Made mental note not to return to stores where owners fuss at you for buying something. Eventually, I headed to my parents' house, where my mom and I ate king cake and watched Slumdog. (A copy on DVD arrived in my mailbox one day last month, a surprise from a friend. No idea where he got it; didn't ask!) I was able to watch the entire movie with my eyes open this time instead of shielding them at certain tense moments, and I caught things I missed the first two times around, including one really big thing involving Salim and Latika when they were kids. It was great fun to watch this movie with my mom, who covered her eyes, shrieked, writhed in her chair, laughed, and cried in all the right places. It is always fun to watch someone you love fall in love with something you love. I tell myself that I like sharing things I love regardless of how they're received, but it's always a bit deflating when something falls short of what you want it to be for someone (which is as awesome to them as it is to you). So I was unspeakably psyched to see how psyched she was to watch this movie. She actually called it "a gift." Good times.

Today is Ash Wednesday. I am giving up junk food for Lent. This feels like a monumental undertaking. My mom says that Lent, in part, is about emptying yourself of bad things in order to make room for good things. I think she meant spiritually, but I am taking this sort of literally, in that I am emptying my body of food that is bad for me and hoping it makes room for me to feel better, sleep better, look better (always a bonus), and most of all, live better. I realize it's only day one, but I feel oddly freed by this decision. Of course, in a week, I will probably be all "my kingdom for a Twix!" We'll see. Also, I abandoned my no-coffee resolution after less than a week, and I've decided my morning cup of coffee will have to be pried from my cold dead hands.

A few co-workers and I went to noon mass today for Ash Wednesday. It had been so long since going to Ash Wednesday mass that I was thinking you get the ashes the same time as you get communion. But no. You file up separately for each act. I have to tell you. I could not believe how many people showed up for noon mass in the middle of a workday. I mean, I could believe it, but I couldn't believe it. People were pouring into that cathedral like ants. We were squished together as tightly as possible in the pews, and still a huge group of people was standing in the back and people were lined up standing on the sides. Hundreds upon hundreds of people is what I'm saying. And it's not like this is the only service around ... all of the parishes have multiple masses throughout the morning, day, and evening today. The ash getting took a very long time. At communion, they ran out of communion wafers. The bishop gathered a few of us who were left around and started randomly and somewhat apologetically blessing us after they ran out. One of the ushers, a wrinkled old man, leaned over, realizing they'd also run out of wine, and whispered to us, "If we'd known there'd be this many people, we'd have brought more liquor!" Eventually someone ran in with a plastic bucket of more wafers and we all were able to receive them. At the beginning of the mass, before the processional, the cantor was announcing the song pages and then said, "Oops, I forgot to mention this mass is being presided over by the bishop. Sorry, Bishop!" and started waving her hands in the air like she just didn't care at the bishop who was in the back of the cathedral. It was all very comedic in a way, this solemn holy day.

What struck me about sitting there around these bazillions of people was not only the reminder that I live in a town of a bazillion Catholics who will march through the streets at lunch time to fill a cathedral on Ash Wednesday and what a possibly peculiar thing that is but also the reminder that maybe it isn't so much about what you necessarily believe but about rituals and tradition. I never know what I believe on any given day, but I believe in family and in growing up with certain traditions and that it's important to revisit those traditions sometimes. Thinking about that made it all a bit easier to stomach when the bishop went on and on about how we are all going to die physically but live on spiritually. It was a bit much to take on an empty, growling stomach that was dreaming of ordering a stir-fry as soon as this mass was ended and we went in peace. I found myself wondering about the people around me and the reasons why they were there. Was she a fervent believer with all of her heart? Was he there because he wanted to remember his mom or dad or grandma who used to take him to mass when he was little? Were they praying for sick relatives or friends? Were they there hoping that God exists and will save our country from this mess we're in? Were they there in case God exists so they won't go straight to hell? Who knows? Whatever the reasons, I did feel a little sense of community in that big church and with my colleagues as we returned to work with big black smudges in the middle of our foreheads.

This evening, I lay on the floor of my bedroom taking my bed apart, cursing and shaking out my throbbing hands as they turned purple from trying to unscrew totally shot screws with all sorts of sub-par tools. I wondered if there were some I would never be able to unscrew and about taking a hammer to them in blind rage. Finally, I got them all out. It was an Ash Wednesday/pliers miracle. Even though it was a huge pain, it felt good to do it all by myself, a very Mare Winningham in St. Elmo's Fire/her own peanut butter and jelly in her own apartment moment. My new bed is arriving tomorrow after 3.5 weeks of waiting for it; more on that later. I hope that it radically changes my life.

Oscars!

I love Hugh Jackman. His hosting stint at the 2004 Tony Awards remains one of the greatest performances I've ever seen on live television. I know you can do it, Hugh! So: his opening. Why aren't they lighting the audience when shots cut to them? That is pretty weird. The two best words that can come out of Hugh Jackman's mouth: "Opening Number." Hooray, here he goes! Oh dear, the worst two words that can come out of Hugh Jackman's mouth: "P-bic Hair." That is my only complaint about this opening number. Anne Hathway has gotten too thin, but she is being a great sport and I have liked her singing voice since she played Mary Poppins on SNL, and that was adorable. I think Hugh Jackman is cracking even himself up in this bizarro dancing number for The Reader. Oh my God, it just keeps getting better and better, and I can't keep up! Well, he said he wanted the Oscars to have more "show" and less "biz," and I think he has succeeded so far. I don't know how many ways I can say that I am actually, quite possibly, in real and complete love with Hugh Jackman. I will try to leave it at that.

Oh my God, the curtains are not opening. Well, that was fun! I like montages, but I wish they'd put the supporting actress clips in order instead of jumbling them all around! And ... another montage? Oh, it's because they're all presenting! Very cool and never been done as far as I remember. Whoopi's animal print dress is a nightmare. Tilda Swinton always looks like a gorgeous statue. Eva Marie Saint looks lovely in her white satin suit and does a nice job describing Viola Davis as Davis emotes silently from her seat with great power. I really, really like her. Anjelica Houston remains gorgeous, as does Penelope Cruz. So many damn gorgeous women! I am really sad about Whoopi's dress because her hair and make-up are nice, but that dress has both a horrible print and is one of the most unflattering things I have ever seen. Amy Adams, I love with all my heart. Oh, Goldie Hawn -- no. Just -- no. (Can I just say that we had Bird on a Wire on VHS when I was a kid and watched it all the time? Because we did.) Taraji P. Henson = also beautiful. (Are they seriously going to take this long with every category? Don't get me wrong, I like it! But it's so different and crazy!) Taking the time to really recognize each nominee is sort of stunning, really, and the nominees are so clearly moved. I think I am a fan of this strategy. We'll have to see how it goes for the rest of the night! And the Oscar goes to ... Penelope Cruz! Wow. I have to say I thought Viola Davis had it in the bag. Penelope's dress looks like a very pretty cloud. And now she is talking about art as the universal language, and I am crying!

This little typewriter silhouette introduction of Tina Fey and Steve Martin is fantastic! Wow, they are actually really trying to do something different this year, and I am really digging it. Tina Fey looks gorgeous and has a killer bod. Again with a dark audience shot, this time of Sophia Loren. What? Why? Shine some lights on these people! I always appreciate a good Scientology insult. Now they are doing the original screenplay nominees and superimposing typewritten text from the scripts onto the clips. Again, a stab at creativity. I appreciate this. IN BRUGES! I forgot this was nominated! Oh, In Bruges, I love you so very much. Oh, Milk. I feel fairly certain that this will win as the screenwriter is a wunderkind and the only one for years and years who has been able to pull Milk off. And, Dustin Lance Black wins for Milk, and I am glad. I loved Milk. Sean Penn is clapping so hard he might break his hands. This kid is adorable! And he calls it a "life-saving story," and really, it is. And now I am crying again. He says the story of Harvey Milk gave him the "hope that one day I could live my life as who I am and maybe even fall in love and get married." Gus Van Sant = in tears. His message to the gay kids: "You are beautiful, wonderful creatures of value, and no matter what anyone tells you, God does love you, and very soon, I promise you, you will have equal rights, federally, across this great nation of ours. Thank you, and thank you God for giving us Harvey Milk." And ... more tears!

It's time for best adapted screenplay. I might have to take a break because my nose is running after the last speech. I wish they would stop showing that Slumdog clip all the time for all the people who haven't seen it yet. Regardless, the screenwriter of Slumdog won and hooray for that! Is he wearing a rosary across his shirt or is that some kind of English thing? Nice speech, makes me want to watch the movie again.

Here are Jennifer Aniston and Jack Black. Jennifer is not wearing black for once in her life! Fantastic. She remains overly tan, but it's nice to see her hair pulled back somewhat from her face. I think she must hate her ears because she never shows them. Possibly she should not be paired with Jack Black doing stilted awkward presentation comedy, but still, props to her for strutting out there in front of freaking Brad & Angie and looking awesome. Wall-E wins best animated film to the surprise of absolutely no one. Oh dear, Jennifer & Jack are back. And they cut to the inevitable Brad and Angie's reaction shot. AWKWARD.

The band just played a snippet of "Cool" from West Side Story as Hugh walked back onstage. I'm fine with that. And now in another random pairing, Sarah Jessica Parker and Daniel Craig. Her formerly nonexistent bosoms are heaving in what I guess is a trick of her dress's stiff bodice. Daniel Craig's delivery is a bit stiff, and I am reminded of that strange MTV Awards show of yore where SJP hosted and sang lots of strange songs like "Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. Art direction goes to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I have not seen. And they're sticking around for costume design ... okay. This is dragging, I'm sorry to report. The Duchess wins; haven't seen it because I try to avoid Ms. Knightley if possible. And they are STAYING FOR MAKE-UP. This is really a bit much, Jesus. Benjamin Button wins, no shock there. God love the artisans but their speeches are not very goozzzzz.

Robert Pattinson glowers way too much. Lift up your head, Robert! Stop furrowing your brow! You are not really Edward Cullen. The end. Amanda Seyfried is beautiful, but their presentation is kind of a dud. Cue romance montage! Nice to see Last Chance Harvey in there. And ... a dancing montage within a romance montage. Did they seriously insert a clip of Diaz and Kutcher dancing in What Happens in Vegas? Shameful. And HSM3? Really? And ... huge Sex & the City spoiler if you care about that sort of thing. I'm not super crazy about this montage if truth be told. And ... who's better than Jamal and Latika and Harvey and Scott? No one.

Natalie Portman and Ben Stiller presenting cinematography. Ben Stiller, of course, is dressed as crazy bearded Joaquin. Natalie Portman's dress sort of resembles a Barbie costume but it doesn't matter because she is always articulate and pretty. This is fairly ridiculous and ought not be dignified with my commentary. Winner: Slumdog.

I cannot see Seth Rogen & James Franco sit next to each other on a couch without seeing Ken and Daniel Desario. They amuse me no matter what they're doing, actually. Now Franco as Pineapple Express guy is watching Franco as Scott Smith making out with Sean Penn, and it's good. And there's Jason Segel, and now the freaks are back together as they should be! I found that entire thing very enjoyable.

It is time for another musical number, and not soon enough for me. And it's a medley of songs from musicals. Oh dear, it's Beyonce. Who appears to be lip-synching. And I just do not approve of that, there is no excuse for it. No excuse! I don't really want to see Beyonce dancing in high cut red sequins, either. She is grinding on Hugh Jackman. This is not good. Hugh Jackman is better than this. I am embarrassed. And there are the High School Musical kids who are actually very cute -- now they are doing a juxtaposition of "I Don't Know How to Love Him" and "Can't Stop the Beat" (!?!?) and this is wrong. And Amanda Seyfried is barely getting to sing at all! Oh God, Beyonce ruins everything. I wanted to love this, I really did. But I can't. Nice idea, horrible costumes, repugnant execution. If I were not already fan of musicals, I think this would make me swear them off for all eternity.

I need a moment to recover. Now it's time for best supporting actor. Javier Bardem is very handsome. Past winners who are presenting: Christopher Walken, Alan Arkin, Joel Gray, Cuba Gooding, Jr., and Kevin Kline, all adorable. I wonder who will get to talk about Heath? Oh DEAR, Alan Arkin totally flubbed and said "Seymour Phillip Hoffman." Who is weird a very silly hat, by the way, sort of like the very tight crotch of a pair of black panty hose. Diane Lane is so gorgeous and seems to be very in love with James Brolin. John Mayer is sitting next to the couple and applauding very enthusiastically for Brolin. Robert Downey, Jr.'s wife is extremely pretty. And ... Christopher Walken is now sporting a bob. Kevin Kline is talking about Heath, and as he is basically the most articulate man on earth, I think it's a fitting choice. Nice tribute. And dispensing with all suspense, Arkin presents it right away to Heath Ledger, and his parents and sister are accepting. Oh, dear. I fear the tears will flow. Adrian Brody is fully crying. How does a mother stand up and speak about her dead son? This is almost unbearable to watch, everyone is crying, and they're accepting the award on behalf of his "beautiful Matilda."

Okay, gathering myself. I love documentaries very much, and I am glad they got such careful attention in that segment. Bill Maher is just so obnoxious. I currently have Encounters at the End of the World from Netflix and look forward to watching it soon.

((Missed some stuff while talking to my little brother about the atrocity that was the musicals tribute.))

The Slumdog sound mixer might be my favorite speech of the night so far. I am a sucker for the sincerely speechless winners. Film editing also goes to Slumdog, and Freida and Dev are bouncing and waving, which is adorable, just like they always are. As the band plays us out to commercial with Aimee Mann's "Momentum," I wonder if maybe these random songs the band is using were Oscar winners or nominees, but I don't think this one was, so I don't know what's going on there.

((Missed some stuff.))

Now it's time for best song. Love the dancers and the whole thing for the first Slumdog song. As for John Legend and the Wall-E song, am I the only one with a bit of a crush on John Legend? And now it's time for "Jai Ho," HOORAY! I don't know how any folks can hear this song and not feel their heart begin to explode somewhat. And now they are doing "Jai Ho" with the Wall-E song, and it sounds about a thousand times better than the odious song mixtures of Hugh & Beyonce. Yay! That was fun. Surely "Jai Ho" will in. And it does! Awesome. The composer, A.R. Rahman, beautifully said that the "essence of the film is about optimism and the power of hope in our lives ... all my life I've had a choice of hate or love. I chose love. And I'm here. God bless."

And now for the moment my brother's been waiting for all night ... Freida Pinto! Best foreign language film ... I am always a little late on these as they usually haven't opened here by the time the Oscar show airs. The Japanese film wins. I always enjoy the speeches for these because often times the winners don't speak great English and they are always super psyched.

Queen Latifah has a very pretty voice, but I think I prefer an instrumental behind the memorial clips. Waiting on Paul Newman to finish it off ... and there he is, with the most applause, and he's the only one who gets dialogue. The empty spotlight = a moving touch.

Here's Reese Witherspoon wearing a dress that's not the cutest I've ever seen. Are we even pretending Danny Boyle is not going to win? David Fincher isn't, as he just practically rolled his eyes when they called Fincher's name. Danny Boyle it is! And he just jumped like Tigger, and it was very cute.

Best Actress! Sophia Loren, Shirley MacLaine, Halle Berry, Nicole Kidman, and Marion Cotillard, presenters. Randomly: the theme from Gone with the Wind. MacLaine does Hathaway, and Hathway and I cry. Cotillard does Winslet, and there's more crying all around. Berry does Melissa Leo, and I'm a little annoyed that her speech started being all about her! Oh, well. I am not nuts about Melissa Leo's hair, but as I've said before, viva Kay Howard. Loren does Streep with her HAND ON HER HIP. Kidman does Jolie with feathers on her chest. Kate Winslet wins for The Reader. She is hugging all five presenters, get a move on, Kate. Her dress, like Reese's, is sort of dark blue and black and not that cute. She has looked better, but she is very emotional and her dad just whistled for her and that was fantastic. She is super stoked and just one of my favorites ever since she was Marianne Dashwood.

Best Actor! Presenters are Robert DeNiro, Ben Kingsley, Anthony Hopkins, Adrien Brody, and Michael Douglas, and everyone is applauding for each of them THUNDEROUSLY. Normally I don't care for the hogging of awards, and I know Sean Penn won recently for Mystic River, but I thought he was wonderful as Harvey Milk, and I hope he wins. I wanted him to win for Dead Man Walking. Robin Wright Penn = still hot. DeNiro is talking about his achievements and antics as a human being, not just an actor, which is a little weird, if you ask me, for this moment. Oh, I forgot about Richard Jenkins! I would be tickled if he were to win! He was wonderful in The Visitor! Oh, Mickey Rourke. I would comment on his outfit, hair, jewelry, glasses, etc., but at this late hour, words fail me. Very nice tribute by Ben Kingsley, I have to say! And ... Sean Penn. Well, he didn't go to kiss Robin so she grabbed his face and kissed him on the mouth. Bravo, Robin. I feel like they are applauding Harvey Milk as much as Penn, really. The cute screenwriter is crying. Sean Penn, I do not care for your all-black tuxedo. Thank your wife, Sean, thank your wife! Please. Please, please, please. And ... he didn't thank his wife.

Best Picture at last. Very nice montage interspersing the nominees with past films with similar themes. Winner: Slumdog Millionaire. And the kids are storming the stage, where they belong. And the producer just kissed baby Salim on the head. Dev Patel is holding baby Latika. And now they're showing scenes from upcoming movies. Whoever decided to put Johnny Depp and Christian Bale in the same movie gets my vote for best casting decision. The movie I'm most looking forward to is Sunshine Cleaning. And ... that's a wrap.

Parade weekend

It was a busy weekend. Sometimes it's good to be busy. My cousin arrived Friday evening; we had hummus and beers, went to see my brother play an excellent set, and then had Italian sandwiches. We turned in early in order to prepare ourselves for the next day.

The next day was parade day, and it was a long and fun one. We ate egg sandwiches at my neighborhood deli for breakfast and headed to our first destination, a party at my classmates' house on the route. There were mimosas and bagels and the cookies I brought, sugar cookies colored pink, the parade's signature color, with pink sprinkles that accidentally made them look a lot like boobs. It was all in good fun! We visited and hung out in the grass and caught beads and it was mostly sunny and very pleasurable. My cousin LOVED the neighborhood and had many intelligent things to say about urban design.

After the parade, we headed to the next party of the day, where there were margaritas and red beans and rice and homemade French bread and a front porch and more good company. Then we went to our third and final party, another classmate's birthday party, where there was another spread of great food and fun. By this point, I think my cousin and I were a bit delirious, so we headed home in the rain and basically turned in early.

This morning we were up with the birds and went out for cafe au lait and beignets. Then he returned home, and I put my fixins in the crockpot and didn't leave the house for the rest of the day. I worked on homework for a billion hours in a row and am proud of myself for getting a lot done. The food smells amazing, and I'm ready to relax with the Oscars. I'm watching Mickey Rourke on Barbara Walters right now, and can I just say, he would still be a pretty handsome guy despite his bludgeoned face if he did not have such RIDICULOUS hair, such silly glasses, and such a hideous striped gray suit, purple sash, and blue and orange striped shirt with an enormous collar. What is he thinking, and can't someone close to him stage some sort of intervention? This is his moment! And it is a shame that someone doesn't step in and whip his look into better shape for his step back into the sun. It genuinely saddens me.

It was fun having my cousin as a houseguest this weekend -- there is something really special to me about talking about family with someone who really gets it and likes to talk about family, too, and about where and whom we came from -- and I look forward to the next parade! I plan to get over myself and throw a party for it because it runs close to my house and life is short. I think I will cook something Irish-themed in my, what else, crockpot. People always get kegs for parade parties, but I feel like I might be a little too old for a keg? Maybe I can think of some other fun drink to serve. Anyway, I can't think about this anymore right now because I need to see what my movie star girlfriend Kate Winslet is wearing.

Today

I really enjoy when my friend Anne gets on kicks of writing what she did that day. Nothing more, nothing less. So today I will do what I always do, which is copy her. Even though her day involves directing Shakespeare in Alaska and mine ... does not.

Today my goal of having a sensational night's sleep was rudely interrupted when the garbage truck rolled by and rattled the windows at 4:45 a.m. I sighed, tried to squash my anger because the garbage men were just trying to do their job, and vowed not to let it ruin the day.

Today I had my second consecutive morning without coffee. For some reason, I've decided this is a good idea. I'm not sure how long I'll stick with it, but I like the idea of becoming less reliant on it to force my eyes open in the morning.

Today I bought a small box of Necco conversation hearts half-off at the drugstore. They were 50 cents and reminded me of the little boxes my dad used to give us on Valentine's Day when we were younger. I ate them at my desk, one by one.

Today I made myself an egg for lunch and ate it with two little slices of leftover French bread from Sunday night book club.

Today I listened to the Once soundtrack and NPR in the car.

Today I watched kittens riding around on a roomba.

Today I decided that I'd like to try giving up sweets for Lent. The truth is that I eat far too many sweets, know they are bad for me, and feel guilty about it all the time. In giving them up for forty days, I'd like to use that time to remind myself that I don't need sweets to cope with stress or sadness or boredom. I'd like to figure out other ways to deal with those things and after forty days feel healthier and like it's perfectly fine to enjoy sweets sometimes. I feel like this will be a truly head- and body-clearing experience. Maybe I'm overestimating the impact, but I don't think so.

Today I invited my cousin to come visit this weekend and accompany me to a night of watching my brother play, a parade, and a birthday party. I hope he will come.

Today I prepared this chicken chow mein recipe in the crockpot before I left for work. I didn't use celery because I didn't have any, I left out the baby corn because baby corn is wrong, and I added carrots and broccoli and green and yellow bell peppers. I also added frozen peas and water chestnuts. (My only complaints about this recipe are that it didn't have enough spice and fire for me, so I had to add some black pepper, and then some cayenne pepper just because I don't know what the hell I'm doing, there were WAY too many bamboo shoots for my liking, and the bean sprouts reminded me way too much of the brain worms from the last episode of Grey's Anatomy.) I've decided that the whole fun of crockpot cooking for me is not stressing about it, being loose with the recipes, and trusting that it will all come together in the end. It also feels really good to take the time to prepare something nourishing for me to eat over several meals in a totally economically sound way. There is just something about walking into my house and having it smell really good with good cooking smells that makes it feel much more warm and homey. I am pleased to be starting this tradition for myself. It's not fancy and it's not complicated, but it is working for me right now.

Today I decided to do nothing this evening but eat my meal and flip between The Biggest Loser and American Idol. Nothing taxing or productive. I'm fine what that on a gray Tuesday night.

Monday Catch-Up

And now for more thrilling catch-up. I finished A Mercy on the plane, and I liked it very much. There was one particular part that made me well up with tears; it involved a character changing her name. I think this is a Biblical concept if I'm not mistaken, and it always moves me to contemplate it. I also finished The Reader, which was beautiful, gripping, and sad, and I can't wait to see the movie now.

Speaking of books, I've posted a few more reviews over at Kidliterate, Melissa's book review site. I'll hopefully be continuing to do so, probably focusing on graphic novels for now.

Okay, I guess that brings us to Saturday night ... it was crawfish etoufee, shrimp and corn soup, stuffed shrimp, seafood gumbo, cheese fries, and beer with old friends, followed by a girls' night out at a bar where we watched my little brother play. I had enough beers to screw up the courage to sing a duet with him, "Falling Slowly" from Once. Ridiculous but fun. It was great to hang out with my girlfriends and stay out late and cut loose for the first time in a long time. There was something about singing songs and sharing frozen sangria that took me back to the old days when all we ever did was act silly and stay up late and have fun. It was nice to realize that it's still possible! Seriously. I'd like to plan another girls night out soon with all the peeps who couldn't make it that night.

Sunday morning, I woke up to bid my houseguests adieu, and eventually I collapsed back into bed, tossing and turning and rousing in time to head to the dog parade with the same girlfriends and some kids. It was a nice afternoon, and we stopped on the way home for frozen yogurt. Sunday evening, I went to my first-ever book club meeting. I'm not sure how I made it to almost 34 without ever being in a book club, but there you go. We discussed A Mercy and drank red wine and ate homemade French bread and it was very relaxing.

It's now Monday and a new week. I'm cooking some whole grain quinoa (is quinoa supposed to be crunchy?) and defrosting some frozen curried vegetables I made in the crockpot last week. After a week of dismal and abysmal sleep, I hope to start fresh tonight and actually sleep more than a few hours. I feel this is important towards the overall positivity of the week ahead. I'm not sure what else to say, so I guess I'll post some pictures of parade dogs. There's nothing like a neon green labradoodle to sing that spring is coming.

Running & Richmond

Phew! It's been a while. It's Valentine's Day afternoon, and I'm sitting here listening to Daisy barking and Nanci Griffith singing "Listen to the Radio."

I guess I'll work backwards. This morning, I got up pre-dawn with some houseguests who had to get an early move-on. I tried to go back to bed, but it was futile. I went on a 3-mile run outside, and it was horrifically muggy. After not exercising for three days, it was tough to hit the road, but I'm glad I did it. I've been having lots of thoughts while running about how it truly is the great equalizer. I mean, barring injury or some sort of condition like bum knees or ankles or whatever, anyone can run. Anyone. And anyone does! All sorts of people run past me regularly. They are equal opportunity smokers, or EOS as I've started to call them in my head. I get smoked and left in the dust by young, skinny sorority girls; silver-haired grandpas; lean, muscled, shirtless marathoners; and women twice my size and age. All of these people are better runners than I am, and I admire them all. What I really appreciate about running is that you can be good at it whether you are the super-fit aerobicizing type or not. Running doesn't care what size or how old you are, it just wants you to put one foot in front of the other. I think that's why I try to stick with it even though I suck at it. I am lumbering, I am slow, and I am totally ungraceful, but there is something pride-inducing about just doing it anyway and being out there with all of the other people, young/old, big/small, male/female, who are doing it whether it's hard or easy for them. It's nice.

After the run, I went out to buy a cream cheese/praline king cake for my houseguests and stopped by my parents' house, where they gave me a nice Valentine and I had a good chat with my mom.

Yesterday, I returned home from a short work trip to Virginia. Mostly I was just glad it wasn't freezing because I am delicate about such things. I really loved visiting the capitol and learning all of the groovy historical Thomas Jeffersony things about the city. It is sad but true that mostly everything I know about Thomas Jefferson, I learned from the musical 1776. I loved walking over the bridge and seeing the river, and I enjoyed an afternoon in an English pub with BW. Hi, BW, if you are reading this. Maybe there is a place at home with penny half-pints? That'd be swell. Anyway, I'll update more soon, but meanwhile, here are a few pictures from my trip:

Sunday

It was a beautiful morning to go on a run. Sunny and breezy and 65 degrees. I'm glad I went when I did; the clouds are gathering, and it looks like rain, which I think might foil my plan to take Zuko to the dog park.

On Friday night, my girlfriend and I went out for appetizers and wine and went to see Last Chance Harvey, which made us cry a lot. I just could not stop crying. I think it's because I love Emma Thompson so much and the moment her face even begins to wrinkle in sorrow I can't help but cry along. And all of the scenes related to Dustin Hoffman and his daughter sent me over the edge into serious fall apart land. It was cathartic! I'm glad we saw it.

Yesterday is a semi-blur. In the morning, I gave myself permission to be lazy, and I lay around and watched the previous night's episode of Battlestar Galactica, which was so fantastic I'm still not over it. Eventually I went to Target and spent too much money, as usual. Then I met up with a classmate for coffee and a visit about our projects. It was nice to be able to sit outside on the patio. I made this spinach and tofu recipe in the crockpot sans the tofu. I didn't drain the tofu enough, clearly, because when I tried to follow the instructions and dust it in cornstarch and then stir-fry it a little bit in a skillet to brown it, the cornstarch bonded to the water on the surface of the tofu instead of the tofu itself and slid off and ended up in strange congealed translucent bits swimming in a gelatinous goo that looked like I was stir-frying the wax we used with our childhood braces. Disaster. So I trashed the tofu and added carrots and almonds and it was pretty good. Not great, but edible. I mostly enjoyed the whole grain naan I bought at Target. Last night I stayed in and watched season two of Extras, which was wonderful if highly mortifying, particularly the Ian McKellen episode, the date gone awry with the bathroom ridiculousness, and the office antics involving the naked lady pen.

Which brings us to today. The run was pleasant. I hacked a giant lantana all the way to the ground (it will come back, it always does) and scratched myself up plenty in the process. I contemplated having a St. Patrick's parade party. I also thought back, randomly, to an old tape that a friend copied for me some 15 years ago at camp. All I remembered was that the guy's name was Raccoon and that he had a song about sitting around thinking about the things he likes to think about. A little searching online, and I found him. This is the song I really liked that summer. What can I say, we were in the mountains.

Now I'm drinking Godiva hot chocolate with soy milk even though it's not remotely cold outside and contemplating a nap. Last night was one of those nights when I was awake more than I was asleep, and it's finally hitting me. Luckily I had a good TV show ("Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Wizard: You shall not pass! Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian...") and a good book (I finished A Map of the Known World, which was beautiful and heartbreaking) All the pets are napping, and I don't know why I shouldn't follow their lead.

On this lazy afternoon, I'm thinking that some time soon I'd like to mull over the idea of giving myself permission to be lazy more often. I am lazy a lot, but I always feel guilty about it. I think I'd like to let that go in '09. I am trying to embrace the idea that a little laziness can be a good thing and not something to fret over. More on that later.