The New Adventures of Emily

Return of the Barbizon Hotel

2011-11-16T13:45:00.000-08:00

My dear friend Eleanor passed along this article earlier this week and it was so "familiar and comforting", to use the author's words, but such an interesting concept, and I felt compelled to share it.

Any group of female friends I've ever had has landed on the idea of living as a group—beyond the college dorm—naturally. Plans for a "commune" of close friends and their families have been a long-running dream. I guess these days, with increasingly broad technology, education and opportunity leading people to be spread far and wide away from their original homes, it's more of a Utopian idea than it was long ago, when people grew up and grew old in the same town alongside their lifelong friends and neighbors.

For some reason Anne Shirley of the Anne of Green Gables books comes to mind. As a female character at the turn of the century, she was among the first generation of women who began to leave their hometowns to go to school far away, and then marry and live even further from her original home and her closest friend. Our "modern day" ability to move freely about the world and make plans and achieve things independent of our families or others is freeing and empowering, but sometimes it's a little bit solitary in a lonesome sort of way too. It might be nice if we still lived in some modern iteration of a fancy girls boarding house.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to sound malcontent with independence, I quite like having my own space and my own things and my own cat. But it would be awfully nice to have all my friends on the other side of the wall.

Symphonic

2011-11-04T05:57:00.000-07:00

This fall, I signed up to volunteer taking tickets and handing out programs for the Chattanooga Symphony & Opera. I've always liked going to the symphony, and I figured hey, serving the community AND going to concerts—perfect combo!

I've worked at a couple now, but last night was the first night I was able to stay for the concert following my program-distributing duties. The first piece they played was Bach ... and I have to say, I've concluded I'm just not a fan of the guy's music. It's always too frilly, it makes me think of French people who would have been friends with Marie Antoinette, wearing pastel colored silk suits and fluffy white wigs, frolicking around in the palace gardens. Last night that image was probably enhanced by the harpsichord, which was pretty cool to see despite let-them-eat-cake brain associations, but still, the Bach was not my favorite.

The main piece of the night was Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 in C-minor—you know, dut-dut-dut-DUHHH, a refrain which apparently Beethoven referred to as "the knocking of fate." That was pretty neat, as I've never seen this famous piece performed live, and the CSO (of course) did a terrific job.

I've left my favorite for last, even though it came second in the line-up. Mozart's Symphonia Concertante in E-flat Major, a piece whose attribution to Mozart is a bit dubious, according to the program, is perfect for fall. The second movement, the adagio, was the best part of the whole evening for me. If the Bach made me think of Versailles, this adagio made me think of a manor somewhere England. It sounded like being in a library at night, dark and warm, nestled into the corner of a big, green, velvet sofa, watching a fire crackle and drinking hot chocolate with some irish cream mixed in—i.e., exactly where I want to be.

The beginning of the third movement, which was more upbeat, for some reason made me think of "A Muppet's Christmas Carol" (always a plus), upping my already burgeoning excitement for this year's holiday season.

I really don't know much about classical music, but in high school I used to listen to Mozart while I studied because I read somewhere that it helped your brain focus better, and his music always seems to be my favorite of the classical variety. Mournful phrases appear throughout, but overall it's joyful and hopeful but substantial and warm. After the piece was over, I looked over the program notes, which said that the adagio gives a sense of "blessedness," and I think that's a perfect description.

If you're in town, they'll be playing it all weekend, and I recommend stopping by.

Space aliens, supercomputers, and work

2011-02-21T09:18:00.000-08:00

At the moment I am eating vegetable soup and listening to a story from All Things Considered about the noises that come from outer space. The scientist they're interviewing managed to translate the magnetism of stars into sound waves. He says that the sound waves that come from the stars change frequencies, and the most far-fetched explanation for this is that alien life forms are trying to communicate with us from their stars - this is crazy. Right now it just sounds like a humming noise. Thanks for all the fish!

I assume many of you are slightly concerned, as am I, by the computer's success on Jeopardy last week. Now that computers can do pretty much what our brains can do, even considering nuance, how long before computers take over the world altogether? In most ways, this sounds awful, and makes me picture some kind of very bleak techno-world where we all wear silver clothes and download our orders for the day onto our brain-chips from our computer bosses. I prefer people, thank you. I think machines should remain tools, and not take charge, thanks. IBM seems to disagree with me, since they spent so much effort trying to build this computer that is so humanesque.

Maybe though, if computers could be put in charge of some things, like fixing Somalia or something, they would do a better job than humans. They could factor in all the information in the world, and like weigh similarities and differences between other situations and then come up with the best solution. Maybe Watson could start there.

This is my third week at work, and things are starting to move faster. I'm looking forward to beginning my managing editor training, which starts this afternoon. Right now I'm doing copywriting training just so I know what goes on in the copywriters process (and b/c I will sometimes write copy) and I'm trying not to get stressed out by all the stuff they have to do before I learn the stuff I'll really be doing!

The Thing I Learned This Morning

2011-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

Well, my new leaf reached an obstacle in its turning over today. I gave in to my sleepiness and did not make my morning trip to the gym.

One might think (I certainly thought, hence remaining in bed) that the extra rest would make me feel good when I got up, but the opposite turned out to be true!

Since this is the first time ever in my life I've even tried to do something like get up early every morning and exercise, it was surprising to me to find that the real result of skipping the workout was a feeling of disappointment.

I was bummed that I didn't make the effort, and missed out on the burning of calories the morning exercise affords. But even more surprising (to me) was that I was really disappointed that I missed the feeling of achievement that accompanies doing something challenging, and that I missed the early start to my day that has allowed me to take a few hours to gear up to going to work. When I get up to go to the gym, it guarantees me the right amount of time to get ready, so I'm not rushed, and I manage to get to work a little early each day. This is certainly not something that has ever occurred to me as pleasant before, but it turns out it is!

This is probably not news to most of you, Krisan, you're probably running a 10K on the treadmill while you read this, but it was news to me. I'll make up for my skip this morning after work, but I don't plan on making this same mistake again!

Oh, you know, good morning

2011-02-11T05:38:00.000-08:00

Just going to pick up with this posting thing like it hasn't been almost a year.

So, I've got a new job!! New job, new outlook, renewed vigor, and thus, new blog title/look. The look might change more, but this is my starting point.

It is very exciting to have a new job. As of this past Monday, I am a managing editor at a custom publishing company here in Chattanooga, which is super for lots of reasons.

1) I have a job. This is a good contrast to not having a job.

2) Since this is a new job and a new company, I have a new BOSS, one who is really nice and encouraging and not a completely demoralizing and horrible person who causes me to struggle daily with the moral implications of sabotage or violence.

3) This job has a lot more import and responsibility, which means I will be productive and useful at work every day, very nice. Not that I am important, just that my job has real purpose and a little bit of authority.

4) The company and people I now work for/with are cool and laid back, and part of the company's mission is for work to be fun, and that is always a good sign.

5)My office is now in a cool building right in the middle of downtown, and super convenient to every where, which means more walking to lunch and such (when it is not frigid outside - go away, already, winter!)

6)I will no longer be a pauper and can now afford luxuries like having the internet at my house.

There are probably more reasons why it is awesome, but those are the ones that spring to mind immediately. In effort to keep myself invigorated, I have also been getting up prior to the crack of dawn and going to the gym before work each day. Many of you will recognize the miraculous nature of this development. So far it has been really nice, once I manage to drag myself out of bed. Plus it has the added advantage of getting me up early and thus eliminating rushing from my morning equation, which has made mornings much more pleasant. It has also enabled me to get to work early! Woah.

Anyhow, that's what's going on with me, and I am hoping that I will continue writing more frequently. We'll see.

Leave of Absence

2010-02-18T07:20:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it's more effective to announce a leave of absence after the fact, right? That way while you're gone everyone is all like "oh," you know, "where is she?" and then you come back and it's like a nice surprise.

OR, I just got lazy and kind of quit trying to write, and now have decided to take up the mantel again. Take your pick! Anyhow, I'm back. I know I know, I'm like the Brett Favre of blogging.

So I'm planning a trip to France in May. My stepbrother, Rick, lives there (in Paris, to be exact) and will be welcoming me into his fancy Parisian flat where I presume we will eat baguettes and croissants and look at the world through rose colored glasses. I'm very excited about it, having only ever been to Italy as far as European countries go. Not that Italy wasn't great, because it is completely wonderful, but I'm excited to expand my international horizons. I plan to watch this video a lot in preparation.

I think I will fit right in. I also plan to look at the Sartorialist a whole lot before going in effort to look more Parisian.

I must go to lunch now, but if any of you have been to France and would like to recommend things for me to do while I am there, I would love to see your suggestions! I will write them in my fancy moleskine Paris trip planning notebook.

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-11-06T10:25:00.000-08:00

Here I am, Erin!

Now that I am writing, I'm thinking perhaps the real problem behind my seeming lack of creative thought was a lack of caffeine. Because today I have had more than plenty and my fingers are eager to flit about the keyboard in a manner reminiscent of yesteryear (and by yesteryear I mean a couple months ago.) We'll see if we can keep this going.

Let's see...tales to tell...last night, having returned home from various wedding related errands (relating not to my own wedding- don't worry, I have no surprising news that I've chosen to reveal to everyone by burying the lede in a random blog post - but rather to the TWO friends' I am looking forward to participating in come January), I spent a leisurely hour or so just pottering around before going to Lacey's. You know, stacking up unopened mail, eating pasta, taking a shower - that sort of thing. Francis was darting around, being his usual weird self, but I noticed he was taking particular interest in a pair of heels that were laying on the floor beside the couch.

Not that I blamed him, these shoes being bright red and of the J. Crew persuasion, but up til now he hasn't really demonstrated that much interest in footwear so I decided to check it out. Then I thought to myself, what is that smallish fuzzy looking thing huddled in my shoe, where the ball of one's foot would usually rest? The cat quickly darted away as I exclaimed my surprise at realizing it was a relatively small rodent, of the mouse persuasion. After collecting myself, I realized that Francois had terrified the poor thing into a state some might call frozen, as it was not moving, except to wring its tiny hands/feet.

At this point I reached a conundrum. Initially, out of surprise, I could not think for the life of me what one would do with a small mouse. I stood in the living room, perplexed, as the tiny thing continued to wring his hands, crouched in my shoe. If I put him outside, he will surely freeze to death because even though I have yet to turn my heaters on this winter (please see this post for explanation on that), it has to be warmer inside than out and he is surely a domesticated mouse. However, one clearly (unless one is Phoebe) doesn't just let rodents run rampant in one's home, plus Francis would surely put a swift and grisly end to that anyhow.

I settled on placing the little fella, whom I named Stuart, in the stairwell of our small apartment building, thinking that it would be warmer than outside but less health-hazardish than letting him live in my apartment/putting him in a shoe box. I decided over night that I would put something in the stairwell for him to live with, like a sock or something, and share some of Francis' food with him. Unfortunately...let's just say this plan was unsuccessful. I'm comforting myself by thinking that he was an elderly mouse, and lived out his final days (barring a harrowing adventure with le chat) in the peace and comfort of my apartment building.

Just so we don't end on kind of a downer note (sorry about that), speaking of mice, please look at this amazing picture of Claire's child, dressed as Minnie Mouse for Halloween:

Pretty much my favorite child.

An Eternal Flame

2009-10-07T14:00:00.000-07:00

Firefighting. Just one more facet to the myriad of skills I am picking up in my sojourn through the world of publishing. Unlike some skills (for instance my apparently incredible quickly-stapling-things skills, which my boss suggested I could utilize as a full-time career), firefighting is one that I really wouldn't have thought would come in handy here, but you learn something new every day.

It was a happy day for the folks in the creative services department - a catered lunch, how pleasant. The conference room beside my desk filled with the happy sounds of people eating quesadillas and black beans.

After lunch, however, when the delighted munching was merely a memory, I went in to turn off the light and what to my wondering eyes should appear but the light of not one, not two, but four flickering sterno lanterns. Cheerily burning away in the empty room, dutifully warming two large aluminum pans full of water.

I consulted the folks in creative services about this, and they had decided that it was difficult to put them out, so they would just let them burn until there was no more fire left in them. On another, colder day in the office, I might have accepted this, and huddled like a Hooverville hobo over the warmth of the little gas flame, rubbing my hands together as I propped my bandana tied to a stick against the wall. Today however, it was more temperate in the office, and I chose instead to alert my boss. His first attempt at squelching the flames with a plastic serving spoon only seemed to make them angrier. After removing the hot aluminum pans filled with water, however, he was able to extinguish them with bursts of breath, leaving the office safe for one more day.

Other than that, not a lot going on this afternoon. Happy Wednesday!

Silence is golden?

2009-10-05T13:21:00.000-07:00

It's awfully nice of you people (my aunt, Walker & Tap, Chase) to notice that I have become the worst blogger ever in terms of actually writing in my blog - for you I will try! I honestly don't know what's up with my brain lately. Maybe I haven't been reading enough? Whatever it is I have just not been in the literary mindset. I think it's a possibility that the problem is the sub-arctic temperatures we've been enduring in the office lately. Supposedly, the computers in the IT room have to be kept at a certain temperature, to the detriment of everyone's extremities, but I'm pretty sure that's a sham. It's not like we just got the computers, and it hasn't always been this cold in here...

Writing is one of those things (like most things, I suppose) where if you try too hard to come up with something great, you just end up coming up with nothing at all. You wonder so much why it is that your brain used to be fine at coming up with nonsense to ramble about and now can only think of the fact that it can't come up with nonsense to ramble about. I feel like Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail when she's recalling how when someone says something awful to her, she wants so badly to say something in return but her mind is a complete blank. "Even now, days later...nothing."

I'm starting to get ready for the holiday season. I'm not to Amy Grant Christmas mode yet (you at least have to wait til after halloween) but now that it's fall I'm getting more and more ready to watch Home Alone.

Every year at Thanksgiving, I have the honor of attending the feast on the night before Thanksgiving at Catherine's house, with her family and also Scott, another honorary guest. We all gather around the table with the candles glinting off the silver and the glasses and share a delightful meal, though my favorite part is after dinner. We've established a tradition over the years of going around the table to say what we've been particularly thankful for, and then some of our favorite things over the course of the year, like movies or books or albums. I've already started considering my options for these important questions, though obviously it is too early to reveal the contenders.

And now I'm going home. I'll give it another shot tomorrow and hope it turns out more clever than this.

Friday Afternoon Post

2009-09-04T13:36:00.001-07:00

Hullo everyone, it's the Friday Afternoon Post.

I do hope you haven't given up on me. I am hoping that fall will provide me with ample inspiration and the font of words will once again begin to flow. For now I am mostly inspired by my inability to sit still. I am experiencing "fall fever," the autumnal equivalent of the spring affliction of similar nomenclature. Every 30 seconds I turn and look out of my patio here at work (read: the windowed storage closet behind my desk) and bounce a bit in anticipation of being outside. I am having visions of myself, and others, walking down leaf-strewn sidewalks in sweaters and boots, perhaps carrying books and listening to Chris Thile on ipods.

College football starts this weekend, and though I am certainly not the most avid football fan, it does fill my little Auburn heart with cheer to think of College Gameday - even attending the UTC Mocs game last night (record setting attendance of more than 14,000 people in Finley Stadium...yeah, big time) made me happy.

Oh how I pine for a hint of cool in the evenings that I might wear my new cape (yep, it's a cape. And it's navy, with gold buttons. And it has a sash. Oh fine, it is this, from Modcloth:

As I think this post is almost completely ridiculous by this point, I might as well close with some poetry:

To Autumn - William Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain'd
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

'The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

'The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.'
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

It's a five o'clock world. Happy Labor Day, all!

Starr

2009-08-31T14:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my Aunt Starr's birthday. I am a bad niece and missed it by a day. I don't usually do the birthday posts, so if you have a birthday (that would be everyone who reads this) and I don't write about you on it, please don't be annoyed with me or think that perhaps we aren't real friends.

Starr is my mom's little sister. She is several years younger, so when I was little, she was kind of like my really cool older sister as opposed to my aunt. I used to spend the night with her and she would make me laugh, and we would drive around in her cool car and listen to Shawn Colvin sing "Riding shotgun down the avalanche, mmm mmm mmm..." She gave me (perhaps unintentionally...) the first cds I ever owned (Counting Crows "August and Everything After" and Harry Connick, Jr. "25", in case you're looking for those, Starr...) and she and her husband gave me my first cd player. Her husband, my uncle Kendall, was there for me in lots of ways when I was a kid, and helped teach me how to drive (and even allowed me to play Ben Harper while doing so even though he is more of an Eagles type of guy.)

All that to say that I'm lucky to have a Starr like her and I love her and I hope she had a very happy birthday!
Starr with her little girl Lauren. Alas, no pictures of us together on the world wide web.

Get thee to an apple orchard

2009-08-31T10:49:00.001-07:00

Or something to that effect. There are a lot of places that fall immediately makes me wish to visit, and since today it was like 85 degrees instead of 90, everyone is talking about fall and how it's happening and so I want to visit those places.

Mostly, fall makes me long for college campuses. I'd settle for any pretty one (ah, Sewanee), but my own in particular. As soon as I stepped outside for lunch today, the cool breeze (aided by the shade of the TFP overhang at the door) and sunny blue skies immediately tossed my mind back to Auburn. Walking down Magnolia with my backpack and a crisp breeze, past Erskine Ramsey hall and the Art building, through Toomer's Corner, along the sidewalk under the canopy of trees...

It is kind of a bummer that backpacks play no part in my daily life now. I loved my little navy L.L. Bean backpack that traveled all the way through high school and college with me. It's in the trunk of my car (along with a whole lot of other things...) still stuffed with notebooks. I also miss sitting in history classes, taking pages and pages of notes on the Civil War or Argentinian politics or H.L. Mencken. I'd like to see all the RVs start gathering in their spots in the field with the orange and blue paper lanterns and giant, inflatable, light-up Aubies, and the tailgaters relaxing in their lawn chairs, waiting until 4 so they can rope off their spots for gameday. The rolling plains of Dixie are beautiful at lots of points in the year, but I love them especially in the fall.

So war eagle for autumn, I suppose is what I have ended up saying.

Story hour suggestions and Politifact

2009-08-12T10:44:00.000-07:00

In preparation for the Ali's Challenge 3 post (due tomorrow) I was just reading the imdb site for "The Rescuers." You see, this week Ali and Kevin (of this tale) are enjoying beignets and crawfish (hopefully seperately) in NOLA, leaving me challengeless. So I told Ali that perhaps I would instead write a story about their adventures on the bayou, a la "The Rescuers," which is one of the more awesome Disney movies of all time (Miss Bianca? Bernard? Evinrude? So great!)

However now I'm a little skeptical of this idea as a) I can't get a good grasp on an idea and b) how do you improve on "The Rescuers" (without making "The Rescuers Down Under," which has already been done though isn't so much an improvement as a lateral move on the awesome scale) and c) would I be messing with some sort of copyright restrictions by tampering with their storyline?

Anyhow, if you have any suggestions for this week's fun fact that I can utilize in the challenge, feel free to submit them.

Also, I heard a guy from this website talking on NPR yesterday, and in looking at it, it seems pretty handy for those who prefer facts to hyperbole when considering things like politics and healthcare. The site is meant to provide non-partisan analysis and "just the facts, ma'am." How rare. Also, in case you've been wondering where one might read the thousands of pages of the Healthcare bill itself, here you go.

If you live in Kentucky

2009-08-07T14:01:00.001-07:00

Ron Paul's son is running for Sentate. Vote for him, por favor.

Friday Afternoon Post

2009-08-07T11:14:00.000-07:00

The Friday Afternoon Post this week will be dedicated to John Hughes, who passed away this week. While he is being most memorialized for the, yes, classic films he made in the 80's like The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off, I'd like to honor the film of his that most touched my life. That film is, of course, Home Alone.

This movie is completely wonderful. It has honestly played a significant role in my life. My entire family - aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins - watches it together EVERY Thanksgiving after dinner. Not to mention the number of times I watch it in the entire holiday season, it's pretty amazing the tape still works (yeah that's right, it's on VHS. Old school is what you call it.) It has formed the basis for a significant part of more than one friendship, most notably myself and Ali (among other things, like the Beastie Boys and Gilmore Girls and Chinese food and Black Cherry soda.)

I think I could pretty easily quote the whole film in its entirity without the aid of the film itself if pressed. So anyhow, my tribute to John will be the following selection of memorable quotes from my favorite Hughes film.

"Is this toothbrush approved by the American Dental Association?"
"Well, I don't know. It doesn't say, hon. "
"Well, could you please find out?"

"This house is so full of people it makes me sick. When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone. Ya hear me? I'm living alone! I'm living alone!"

"I took a shower washing every body part with actual soap; including all my major crevices; including in between my toes and in my belly button which I never did before but sort of enjoyed. I washed my hair with adult formula shampoo and used cream rinse for that just-washed shine. I can't seem to find my toothbrush, so I'll pick one up when I go out today. Other than that, I'm in good shape. "

"Hi, I'm Mitch Murphy. I live across the street. You guys going out of town? We're going to Orlando, Florida. Well, actually, first we're going to Missouri to pick up my grandma. Did you know the McCallisters are going to France? Do you know if it's cold there? Do these vans get good gas mileage?"
"Gee, kid, I don't know. Hit the road. "

"Where did he go?"
"Maybe he committed suicide. "
"I'm over here you big horse's ass, come and get me before I call the police. "
"He's gonna call the cops!"
"From a tree house?! Come on!"

"I don't want to sleep with Fuller. You know about him, he wets the bed. He'll pee all over me, I know it. "

"Ma'am, I'm eight years old. Do you really think I'd be here, alone? I don't think so. "

"Well where's your mom? "
"She's in the car."
"Where's your dad?"
"He's at work."
"What about your brothers and sisters?"
"I'm an only child."
"Well, where do you live?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Cause you're a stranger."

"You're not at all worried that something might happen to Kevin? "
"No, for three reasons: A, I'm not that lucky. Two, we use smoke detectors and D, we live on the most boring street in the United States of America, where nothing even remotely dangerous will ever happen. Period. "

"Say good night, Kevin. "
"Good night, Kevin."

"Kevin, if Uncle Frank says no then it must be really bad."

"Hi."
"Hi."
"Are your parents home?"
"Yeah. "
"Do they live here? "
"No."
"No. Why should they? All kids. No parents. Probably a fancy orphanage."

"That's the one, Marv, that's the silver tuna. "

"Guys, I'm eating junk and watching rubbish! You better come out and stop me! "

"We'll go thru the back. Maybe the kid will let us in, you never know. "
"Yeah. He's a kid. Kids are stupid. "

"I wish my grandparents did that. They always send me clothes. Last year I got a sweater with a big bird knitted on it. "
"That's nice. "
"Not for a guy in the second grade. You can get beat up for wearing something like that. I had a friend who got nailed once because there was a rumor he wore dinosaur pajamas. "

"He walks up and down the streets every night, salting the sidewalks. "
"Maybe he's just trying to be nice. "
"No way. See that garbage can full of salt? That's where he keeps his victims. The salt turns the bodies... into mummies. "
"Whoa. "
"Mummies..."

"Everybody in this family hates me! "
"Then maybe you should ask Santa for a new family."
"I don't want another family. I don't want any family. Families suck!"
"Just stay up there. I don't want to see you again for the rest of the night. "
"I don't want to see you again for the rest of my whole life. "

"Why the hell did you take your shoes off?"
"Why the hell are you dressed like a chicken? "

"Hey, I'm not afraid any more! I said I'm not afraid any more! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid any more!"

"We'll come back tonight, about nine o'clock, that way it's dark, see?"
"Yeah! Kids are scared of the dark!"
"You're afraid of the dark too, Marv, and you know it. "
"I am not!"

"There are 15 people in this house, you're the only one who has to make trouble. "
"I'm the only one getting dumped on. "
"You're the only one acting up. Now get upstairs. "
"I am upstairs, dummy. "

Ali's challenge story hour 2

2009-08-05T10:58:00.000-07:00

Today's fun fact: Russian Soccer Fans going to Wales to support team urged by the country's fan organization to drink Welsh whiskey to ward off swine flu virus.

"Garbled Russian, warmed by the smokey afterglow of whiskey, is nearly impossible to understand, sir" the little translator said to the police chief.

"Why Archie, that was quite poetic," the chief responded magnanimously. "But you've honestly no idea what the man was saying?"

"We'll just have to wait til he sobers up, I suppose," Archie responded, shaking his head to indicate that no, he had gleaned nothing from the hour of questioning largely composed of the Russian tumbling repeatedly out of his chair. "Something about the pigs, and clearly something about whiskey. Welsh whiskey."

A muffled thud sounded from inside the cell followed by a brief silence, a groan, and then some remarkably tuneless singing. "What's that he's singing?" the chief asked. "It's, ah, Tubthumping, sir," Archie said, and cleared his throat. "Eh?" the chief responded, fuzzy eyebrows arched. "It's ah, erhm, they play it sometimes at sports matches...'I get knocked down, but I get up again...never gonna keep me down..." Archie's meak rendition did nothing to assuage the chief's confusion.

They both peered into the cell and saw the lanky man performing a drunken hula dance, complete with head bobbing, in time to his self-provided music. Noting his audience, he offered a large grin and a thumbs-up.

Archie and the chief turned away again. "Well," the chief said, "What I don't understand is why, if he had previously been at a football match, he then careened through the city, managed to locate a farm, and stole a herd of pigs." "Perhaps it's some kind of tradition, like a celebratory thing?" Archie offered. They turned and faced another cell, in which there stood ten rather large and disinterested swine, one of whom was at that moment chewing a bit of carrot and squinting at them dully from beady black eyes.

"They really doesn't look at all like Babe," the receptionist lamented from her desk, and the two men shook their heads in agreement. "Not a bit gallant," the chief noted disappointedly.

After arresting the man, along with the pigs, for causing chaos in a liquor store, no one at the station had been able to determine what should be done. The suspect was not in any condition to provide useful information, not to mention the fact that the man was an international visitor to Wales. And how would they return the pigs to their rightful sty? As discerned upon their arrival, pigs apparently wear no identifying items or markings - anyone could drop by and claim them as their own. Plus, their odor was not contributing positively to the aesthetic environment of the police station.

After drinking a cup of tea on the stoop of the station - the pigs made the inside rather uncomfortable - Archie and the chief questioned the Russian again. More lucid this time, he tried to explain what had happened. If the fan organization head thought the whiskey would protect people from swine flu, why not go right to the source? He was simply trying to inoculate the pigs against the virus.

"He's blaming the pigs," Archie explained to the chief. "You know, for the row in the liquor shop." They both glanced at the pigs, now dozing like so many dirty pink pillows on the floor of their cell. "He says British pigs can't hold their liquor."

Just then, a ruddy-faced old man in a rather stereotypical tweed cap poked his head in the station door. "Hullo," he warbled. "I seem to have lost rather a lot of pigs - oh, hello there!" He interrupted himself as he noted the pigs, now squealing with apparently delighted recognition in their cell. The Russian, sensing what was going on, began speaking loudly and utilizing dramatic hand gestures in effort to communicate with the farmer. "He would like you to know that your pigs are now safe from harm. From the swine flu. Also they may be a bit drunk. And he asks that you not punish them for getting arrested as he's sure they didn't intend to cause trouble."

"I see," said the farmer, looking puzzeled. "Well then. I suppose I'll let them off this time." He gave a whistle, and the pigs, freed from their prison, pranced out the door in a line, snorting happily. The Russian waved, and then promptly fell asleep, presumeably satisfied with his good deed.

Ali's challenge story hour

2009-07-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

Another new feature! Given my love for a vignette, Ali will provide me with a fun fact, which I will then be challenged to create a short story around. The fun fact will be the only true part. Please keep in mind that much of rest will likely be illogical.

Today's fun fact: A massive earthquake in the Tasman sea has brought New Zealand 30 cm closer to Australia.

Bertram bobbed in his life preserver, annoyed. This had been his shot at doing something truly amazing. Leave it to New Zealand to screw it up.

"Stupid Hobbits. I should have known." As he floated, he held the frayed ends of the cable in his hands. Now, looking back, there were so many things he would have done differently. For one thing, there had to be another two bits of land 20 km apart that he could have gone between. He winced as he imagined the disappointment in his coach's eyes. He then thought of the smug look on his brother's face now that his less-than-confident prediction about Bertram's goal had come true.

"Tight-rope walk across the Cook Straight?! You're out of your mind, you'll never make it. That's like twelve miles!" Marcus had said on the phone. Right you are, Bertram had thought at the time. 12.4274 miles, to be exact, and I will hold the world record and finally, finally he thought, you will have to admit that I've done something impressive.

The tension on his cable had been perfect. The foremost tightrope hanging expert in the world had attached it at both shores with the utmost formality. Though it was not in the least like a boat, aside from being something of a means of transport, the man had crashed a bottle of champagne over the end of the cable before Bertram began. The flash of the reporters' cameras gave Bertram a boost of confidence, and he waved gallantly as he mounted his cable with the grace of a very slender cat, or some such equally graceful creature.

There were buoys every half mile, with his cable snugly attached to them. For safety, two boats flanked him once he got out over the water, a net drawn between them. Though he found it a little embarrassing, Bertram supposed it would be pretty disappointing to make it most of the way across only to lose his footing and be immediately and handily swallowed into a waiting shark's open mouth. Now, floating in the shallow waters of the South Island's shore, holding the snapped end of his cable, he wondered if that would have been easier than returning home untriumphant. For thanks to that blasted earthquake, all his plans had been foiled.

Was he really supposed to believe that the island itself had actually moved?! Apparently it had only barely shifted, though 30 fresh centimeters of land had supposedly appeared on the west coast. It seemed that one centimeter of genuine shift was all it took to snap the end of his cable on the last line. He had reached the last buoy feeling ten feet tall, saluting the crew of the boats on either side of him. He'd even made it most of the way across the line when it happened. He supposed that even if the cable hadn't snapped from the one centimeter of stretching, he still would have fallen off, given the rumbling of the tectonic plates.

The waves lapped against the shore of the south island, now itself one centimeter closer to Australia. As they dragged Bertram in the net through the shallow water, he calculated that he had at least made it 12 miles, his dear brother's scoffing estimate of the distance. He felt himself begin to bump across the sandy shore as the water shallowed, and he dropped his cable with a small sparkling splash. Fair enough, he thought.

There might be hope for us after all!

2009-07-16T10:28:00.000-07:00

I was going to email this to various people, and then I realized that I was emailing it to so many people that what I really ought to do is shout it from the proverbial rooftops.

In addition to 271 congresspeople signing on to one of Ron Paul's bills today, the news that the Crocs Shoe Company is on the verge of bankruptcy gives me new hope for America.

Oh, America

2009-07-16T08:18:00.001-07:00

I think I'll add a new segment to the blog with the recurring theme "oh, America." As in, "oh, America, this is why citizens of other countries laugh at us."

(Not that we don't laugh at them too - I mean, this morning NPR said that the French government actually requested that their citizens smile more to boost tourism - this is pretty funny.)

Today's installment of "oh, America" is a phone message I received here at work, in which a lady requested that I call her back so that she could "prescribe" to the magazine.

As though our magazine was some sort of prescription drug that she could prescribe to herself as an antidote for not knowing enough about the city and its inhabitants.

Like I said, "oh, America."

Teenwizard

2009-07-15T10:03:00.001-07:00

So, it's Wednesday. Not feeling particularly inspired about anything at the moment but maybe if I keep typing that will change.

Tonight I am going with Luke and Lacey to see the new Harry Potter and the Teenage Wizards movie. They are fans, but I have previously only seen one other Harry Potter and Teenage Wizards film, and that was on Monday because otherwise I would have been confused (and no doubt annoying) during this one. I am wondering if that weird blonde girl will be in this one because I like her, I think she and HP should date. Also am hoping that HP and Teen Wizards will have as little interaction as possible with nose-less guy because of his creepy face. It's funny to me that they made his voice sound like someone who just has face where their nose is supposed to be would probably sound. Just seems like usually with monsters they don't really take into account how their features would impact their voices.

It is also funny how there is a clear tension between Harry Potter & Teen Wizards and Twilight & Teen Vampires. At least this new phenomenon of fantasy is forcing American teenagers to embrace their nerdiness. Next thing you know it will be the cool kids playing "Magic: The Gathering" at Auburn coffeeshops instead of kids who regularly get their bikes stolen.

Once again I am avoiding working on the calendar which I used to enjoy but now loathe as a result of the severe lack of big events going on in the summer. Unless you are really into bluegrass, because there is at least one bluegrass festival every month around here, if not two or five. I wish I could just write "go to Nightfall on Fridays, movies in the park on Saturdays, AEC film series at Loose Cannon last weekend in August, Boys II Men at Starnight Aug. 29."

Yeah, you read right! Starnight, which benefits the Siskin Children's Hospital, is featuring Boys II Men. This August. Not August of 1995. Whose idea was that? Ok, back to work.

The Friday Morning Post

2009-07-10T07:17:00.001-07:00

I went to the beach last week! Hence, no posting. This week I really have no excuse. Also as I am trapped in the past, I did not document my beach trip via digital camera and cannot share photos. Apologies!

My favorite thing about my beach trip incidentally did not really involve the beach. Said trip took place at my grandparents' beach house, which is in a little tiny town called Port Saint Joe, FL. We've been going there since I was about two, and the town has only recently begun building popularity with the rest of the world and getting some fancy shops and restaurants and a couple neighborhoods worth of Rosemary Beach-esque vacation mansions. Since the beaches are perfectly white, and the sea they accompany is technically a bay (therefore generally calm and clear), it's surprising that it's taken this long for folks to visit.

Anyhow, considering that the big adventure in town when I was a child was a trip to the Dollar Store where we could pick out different types of candy, the emergence of some new things is positive.

With the hip new wood-fired pizza place (yum) and cute little boutiques with names like The Fuss, has come a new weekly tradition the good folks of St. Joe call "In the Park after Dark." I realize that sounds a little sketchy, but it's actually a family friendly gathering involving a giant screen, lawn chairs, a park by the beach, and a different movie every week.

Ah, the outdoor movie. One of my favorite things in life. There is something so decidedly pleasant about sitting in one of those aluminum chairs with the cris-crossed vinyl straps on a breezy evening, pine trees and stars above, watching "Mamma Mia" beside the bay.

Incidentally, I am of course way behind on this but "Mamma Mia" was so fun! Abba's music automatically makes you happy. It's probably my favorite Meryl Streep role (judge if you will but her movies are almost always depressing - "Bridges of Madison County"? Ugh.) Pierce Brosnan is generally so smug that it is very fun to see him dancing - badly - and singing - even more badly. Karen from "Mean Girls" is so cute, and I love seeing the guy from "History Boys" in something else. Also, Greece is beautiful. Sigh.

I highly recommend watching it in a park sometime soon. I saw an article earlier today that said NYC is showing movies right below the Brooklyn Bridge, with the city in the background - it's called "Movies with a View," and if I lived in New York I would so be there. Last time they showed "Raising Arizona," how fun is that?

Chattanooga will be hosting its own "Movies in the Park" events every weekend for the rest of July, although it's mostly kids movies. I plan on attending next weekend, though, because they'll be showing "The Wizard of Oz"! Come one, come all!

It's not very original, but...what I have to say about MJ

2009-06-26T05:45:00.001-07:00

It's true, that's totally MJ at the White House with the Reagans.

Michael Jackson, though he may have turned out to be quite odd, was indeed one of the greatest entertainers of all time. Even on NPR this morning, they did multiple stories and interviews about him. One of the people from Motown Records was talking about him as a child, and how he was just magnetic, even then. He was an original, there had never been, and won't ever be, anyone else like him. But someone also said that his house, at Neverland, was just filled with hundreds of enormous, life-sized statues, and how it gave everyone the impression that he was very lonely, which is really sad. They played a clip of him singing "I'll be There," as a little kid, and it may have made me tear up a little. It doesn't seem like someone who's already such a legend should die, I guess.

I used to work at this cafe here in the summers, and one summer this guy named Andrew was also working. Andrew was a teacher, so he was just using the job to make some extra money while he was out of school, and we often had the same schedule. He was really into music, and a little older than me, and he told me one time that when Kurt Cobain died in 1994, he was teaching at a boys school up north. It was a boarding school, and he said that day he was walking through the courtyard in the middle of the dorms, and suddenly all the windows flew open, and simultaneously, stereos in all the buildings started thumping that first rhythm of "Smells Like Teen Spirit," and the boys poured into the courtyard, shirtless, in a collective moment of teenage boy upset.

Listening to them talk about the crowds filling the streets outside of Jackson's hospital this morning, I thought of that story, and pictured somewhere on a campus collective stereos blasting those first synthesizer strains of "Thriller" into a courtyard, and everyone suddenly gathering to do that iconic dance on the lawn, arms raised with hands curling claw-like in time to the beat.

R.I.P., King of Pop.

Watch this. And, of course, this.

There must be something in the water...

2009-06-24T12:44:00.000-07:00

Wow. Did John Ensign put him up to this?

Democrats everywhere must be cackling gleefully into their Barack Obama coffee mugs. Apparently, the Republican party has fulfilled the quest they've been barking about for months - nay, years; re-defining the brand of the GOP. Perhaps they're hoping to collect a younger demographic with the edge-y "Moronic middle-aged guys who can't keep their pants on" branding. I'm thinking that may not test real well with their usual demographic but perhaps it will draw in some outlier groups. Like maybe people who are big Bill Clinton fans?

My questions about this whole situation:

a) What on earth made him think that as one of only fifty governors in the country, he could disappear without actually telling people where he was going for a full week and think that no one would question it? Did he want to get caught?

b) He says his wife has known about the affair for five months. If he had already admitted it to her, why would he continue it??

c) I ask once again why everyone ignores Ron Paul despite the fact that he is brilliant and can keep it classy. The Republicans wouldn't even let him into some of the debates.

d) I wonder what our country will be like once we have a one-party political system as the Republican party is clearing crumbling from within like a house of feta cheese built on a foundation of sand...

Yeah, yeah

2009-06-24T09:05:00.000-07:00

Since I know most of you probably didn't power through the epic of libraries, I will leave you some lighter fare today. Perhaps a first for this little blog: a movie review!

Folks, last night Katie and Lacey and I went to see "The Proposal."
For one thing, let's be honest, we've all missed Sandra. She is gorgeous and adorable and funny. Also, let's note that Ryan Reynolds (while I slightly judge him for being married to Scarlet Johanson) pretty much fits the same description, although to a slightly lesser degree on all counts.

Secondly, I will say that the movie itself is hysterical. Truly enjoyable hilarity throughout, and not in a please-don't-smoke-on-the-roof-and-set-the-house-on-fire Meet the Faulkers kind of way (I hated that movie and all movies like it) or in a crude-but-you-still-have-to-laugh kind of way. Just funny. Everyone in the theater was shrieking at various points, including the few men who had been brave enough to venture into a movie called "The Proposal."

Yes, it was pretty predictable, and yes at the end I felt that they didn't really bother making the ending legitimate, but I didn't really go into it expecting "Life is Beautiful" or something. If you are in the market for some light, really delightful and straight-up funny film fare, I recommend it.

Or you can go see Transformers 2, which has been described by pretty much everyone as "loud, obnoxious and loud."

Salute to libraries

2009-06-22T13:41:00.000-07:00

This is the Peabody Library in Baltimore. It makes me wish I lived in Baltimore. This photo is really ubiquitous, but this particular version is from leafar's flikr page, whoever that is. Once in 7th grade our teacher did this exercise where we were supposed to close our eyes and picture an ideal, peaceful place, and if I had seen this picture then, this is what I would have pictured. What I actually pictured was a room with lots of big, sunny windows, shiny parquet floors, salmon-y coral colored walls, bookshelves, and a big beanbag/floor cushion thing upon which I would sit. What would you picture?

This is Andrew Carnegie, steel magnate and builder of more than 2,500 libraries. I like him. He is the real focus of this essay. Mainly because I went to the Chattanooga Bicentennial Library last week for the first time in forever and before I even walked in, I could smell the library smell - books and carpet and dust and old newspapers and a little disinfectant and the ink from the check-out date stamps. It reminded me of how much I love the library.

Although libraries are not everyone's favorite place, and I did avoid the one at Auburn as much as I could, (too much fluorescence - further ranting on my hatred of cfl lights and the fact that ambient light in this country will be forever ruined by the year 2012 later) the library makes me happier than most places.

One of the many great things my mother did for me when I was a child was keeping me in constant supply of books of all genres and sizes. I enjoyed nearly complete collections of Nancy Drew and the Boxcar Children, and classics like Little Women, Girl of the Limberlost, Anne of Green Gables, and Narnia. There were also the slightly more obscure tomes like the Five Little Peppers, and the Betsy books (omg, so wonderful I wish I was reading one right now), and All-of-a-Kind Family books, and The Twenty-one Balloons (which I gave all the students in my class last year for Christmas), and Ginger Pye, and a book I stumbled upon at the library called The Little White Horse, which was old and odd and a truly magical story.

I created rituals for myself with some of these books - Little Women I read every year over Christmas from second grade through college, The Little White Horse I read every summer for about as long. Going to the library in and of itself was a ritual for me once the summer began. When I was little, we would park at the Choo Choo and get on the electric shuttle, which would deposit us at the Broad Street entrance of the library, right in front of the giant fountain composed of books made of steel. Then through the doors onto the Brady Bunch-era orange carpet (still there), turning right in front of the information desk constructed out of dark possibly-wood. To get to the children's section, you go up the stairs with the smooth shiny handrails to the second floor.

This convenient photo is from a website called sceniccityscoop.com.

When we got back on the bus, the bus driver would tease me about my giant stack of books (even she could sense my nerdiness.) By the time I was ready for the grown-up section, we had moved to Brainerd and started going to the East Gate library, which was smaller and not as cool, but I still liked it, and would roam the stacks forever. I remember exactly where I found All's Quiet on the Western Front, and Agatha Christie.

Anyhow, all this to say that the library was integral to my childhood and adolescence, and I think I would probably be different if I hadn't had access to all those books. "You are," as Frank Navasky writes about 'The Shop Around the Corner', "what you read." Annie Dillard, in the oft-mentioned An American Childhood, remembers that her father's bookplates stated "Books make the man," over a picture of a ship with full sails. Both true, in my opinion.

From Annie Dillard, I also learned about Andrew Carnegie, a Scottish-born immigrant who came to America with his family as a child and started working at 13. Carnegie, as we know, was the developer of US Steel and played a key role in building our nation's railroads, which in turn dictated a great deal of the development of our nation in general.

As a result of this and some other smart investments, Carnegie amassed an enormous fortune and felt that it was a major responsibility on his part to disperse his "surplus wealth" for the betterment of mankind. "One of the serious obstacles to the improvement of our race is indiscriminate charity," Carnegie once said, and his philanthropy was based on this principle. He believed in giving to the "industrious and ambitious; not those who need everything done for them, but those who, being most anxious and able to help themselves, deserve and will be benefitted by help from others." Ah, indeed, Mr. Carnegie.

As a young man, Carnegie worked for a telegraph company, and his boss would let the workers have access to his private library on Saturdays. Carnegie was endlessly grateful to this man who had given "working boys" the opportunity to acquire knowledge and better themselves. The memory of this gift is likely what inspired Carnegie to choose libraries as one of the chief means of distributing his surplus wealth, for as he said, "I choose free libraries as the best agencies for improving the masses of the people, because they give nothing for nothing. They only help those who help themselves. They never pauperize. They reach the aspiring and open to these chief treasures of the world -- those stored up in books. A taste for reading drives out lower tastes."

What he had gathered from the gift of books had been stepping stones to becoming the person he was, and he felt that enabling others to find those stepping stones was the greatest gift he could give. (Incidentally, he also gave a great deal of money to other things like universities and health care facilities, but libraries were his dearest gift.)

Anyhow, in addition to the more than 2,500 libraries he built around the world, we also have Carnegie to thank for the way libraries work these days. Before he started designing them, going to the library to get a book meant asking a clerk to go back into the closed stacks and pick it up for you. Carnegie wanted people to be able to explore the books, and be pulled in by what they saw, making their own selections to build their stepping stones, so he designed open stacks that people could wander and browse. This concept is key to the library experience, so grazi, Andrew.

His libraries were all beautiful buildings, aesthetically supervised by his secretary, James Bertram. Most feature a prominent entrance reached by a staircase, to symbolize elevation by learning. Each library also generally featured a lantern or lamppost outside, which represented enlightenment. The first library he built was in his hometown of Dunfermline, Scotland, and over the door he had enscribed "Let there be light." Since he was such a classy guy, we will forgive him for what could be taken as an overuse of symbology and appreciate the sentiment.

This is a Carnegie Library in Oklahoma. Note the classy dome and columns. Very nice, Andrew.

This is a Carnegie Library in England. As you can see, Andrew insisted that the libraries be beautiful, welcoming places that people would actually want to go into. Very classy.

Carnegie, like many of his fellow titans of industry, became the model for today's philanthropists. The MacArthur Foundation, The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and many others follow his ideal of inspiring people with goals and dreams to better themselves, and to rise above whatever their circumstances might be. I feel like I owe a lot to Andrew Carnegie, and so I felt compelled to write this little ode to him, for which (if you've read this far) I appreciate your indulgence.

Here are some awesome things that Andrew said while he was alive. I wish I could shake his hand:

"Think of yourself as on the threshold of unparalleled success. A whole, clear, glorious life lies before you. Achieve! Achieve!" This is my favorite thing that Andrew said. I feel like it should be emblazoned on the walls of every school in the country. Of course then people would just get used to it and ignore it.

"And while the law of competition may be sometimes hard for the individual, it is best for the race, because it ensures the survival of the fittest in every department." Ah Andrew. It is a shame you aren't around to remind people (government people, especially) about this.

"He that cannot reason is a fool. He that will not is a bigot. He that dare not is a slave." Tell it like it is, Andrew.

"There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the earth as the Free Public Library, this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration." I really appreciate Andrew's definition of democracy, which rests on the tenet that men are free when they pursue knowledge and achievement by stretching their minds. Seems unique. George Will would approve. And Ron Paul. That's how you know it's good. Also, I wish people still said stuff like that, just in general. People in the 19th century were so much more eloquent. Thanks a lot, television.

Friday Morning Post

2009-06-19T08:30:00.001-07:00

I continue to be freakishly busy as deadline approaches but beseech you all to please, please read this post from The Cajun Boy of Gawker because I have tears coming out of my eyes as I laugh silently at my desk. Here's a teaser:

"As you can tell from the photo at left, the poor blogger, "D.Billy," didn't even get to crack the top on his can of Pepsi One when the feathered beast flew in through the open door and dipped its razor-sharp talons into his lunch."

I realize that my reading Gawker makes it seem like maybe I'm lying about being freakishly busy but it pops up on my Google reader and sometimes I need a brief break. Unfortunately I don't always think fast enough to come up with witty and relevant blog posts during that break, which is why I am sending you to read this hilarious tale.

I meant to write about this last week...

2009-06-16T08:38:00.000-07:00

It's been kind of crazy around here.

Ok, first, political culture consultant Ali called this to my attention late last week. If you don't trust our brilliant recommendations enough to read the article (come on, it's funny! for real!) then I will summarize by saying that Kinsey, one of the Post's opinion writers, proposes that we pick a new, more singer-friendly national anthem, and offers several viable suggestions. Reason being that the song spans nearly two full octaves where most normal people (read: not Martina Mcbride) have a range of less than one octave. This means that the majority of Americans cannot actually sing our national anthem without at some point sounding ridiculous.

Now, on this part of his thesis I can't really argue because true or false: everyone has heard more painful performances of the Star Spangled Banner than you've heard Jillian the Bachelorette say "ah-booot" instead of about. Ok, maybe not because she says that a lot, but everytime I hear someone sing it I'm crossing my fingers they won't miss the high notes.

So anyhow he also notes that our national anthem is terrifically filled with lyrics about violent battles. Well, sure it is, because it's about the American Revolution and the endurance of the flag (*symbol alert: representing patriotism) so I don't have a problem with that (although some of the other verses are a little more intense than the normal verse. Probably why we don't sing them. Also since there are like 6 it would take forever, you'd have to start singing before batting practice was over so the game could start on time.)

Kinsey also claims that "home of the brave" is kind of ludicrous because there's "nothing in the American myth (let alone reality) to suggest that we are braver than anyone else." However, historically here I take issue with him because the whole deal with the patriots was that they were brave enough to stand up for what they believed in despite seemingly insurmountable odds and unbeatable enemies (read: the entire British army/navy.) Also, as a result of the role America has played in most major wars, I'd say that bravery is certainly a part of the 'American myth', as it is something that is often lauded and poeticized and made movies about. So while there are certainly brave people in other countries, I'd say that having "home of the brave" in our national anthem isn't that absurd.

Of his suggestions for replacements, my pick is certainly "The Battlehymn of the Republic." So fun to sing and with classy and inspiring lyrics to boot. Although a rousing chorus of "God Bless America" complete with clashing cymbals would be fun too. I was always inspired by that country song "An American Child," too, which goes nicely with one of my favorite books, "An American Childhood", though the two are in no other way connected.

Ok, time for lunch. There was something else I meant to write about last week too but now I can't remember it...maybe later.

Hey, I've got an idea

2009-06-03T13:04:00.000-07:00

Dear City of Chattanooga (and all other muncipalities with parking meters),

Please learn how to make parking meters that accept pennies.

For one thing, parking meters in general are a pain and a rip-off. A quarter = 20 minutes? I remember when a quarter was worth half an hour, sonny. I even remember when I could park at Coolidge park for free (not a tough memory to conjure since that was like last year, but still.)

All I want to do is run in Figgy's or Ankars and grab a quick lunch, but if I am out of change, no such luck. I must drive all the way down Broad Street to the Subway (because the one downtown requires change for meters too.) This is a plastic world, folks. I almost never have cash. Which, conversely, means I almost never get change.

Except, there are ALWAYS pennies.

Everywhere, lurking. Because there is no use for them (no offense, Honest Abe.) I have been known (on occasion) to throw them away when cleaning out a purse because they're so basically useless and I don't want to carry them around.

HOWEVER, if I could put them in parking meters -- Oh, the utility! How much easier my life would be, and how coppery-clutter-free! Zip down to Figgy's, pop 10 shiny pennies in the meter, the city is satisfied, I am satisfied, it would be genius.

Why is it that machines reject our coppery little friends? No coke machines, no bubblegum machines, (obviously) no parking meters...what gives? Why do machine-makers hate on Abraham Lincoln? Maybe somebody knows this. Walker, you're an accountant, any ideas? Amanda Youell, you read this on occasion and are very smart/work with numbers, perhaps you can help?

Consistant blogger I am not

2009-06-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, we went to this festival/fundraiser in town to celebrate Jason's birthday, which officially happened yesterday (happy birthday to Jason!)

The festival is called Bella Sera, and involves lots of people strolling around one of the riverfront parks, armed with a wineglass and hopefully the phone number of a cab company (or, as in my case, an apartment within walking distance.)

Your ticket to the event entitles you to tapas from five different restaurants (who were all set up under tents along the sidewalk) and all the wine you care to slosh into your glass. The event's proceeds go towards a local organization called Endeavors, which seeks to help people who've been released from prison get their lives back together and get on a positive path.

The evening began clear and warm, and as the sun set over the river, folks from all around gathered under the trees to taste yummy things and chat. My favorite food item from the evening was one I already knew I liked. I don't care who you are, the chicken tortilla soup from Taco Mamacita is AMAZING. They give you a bowl containing neat little piles of fresh ingredients, like avacado, tomatoes, some sort of tasty Mexican cheese, lime and cilantro. The server then pours steaming broth over the contents of the bowl, creating a delicious fresh soup. Their guacamole is also pretty amazing. I'd say my favorite wine of the night was Riesling, which makes my wine tastes disappointingly girly. I tried to drink red but I just plain don't like it.

After picking up our third round of tapas, we sat down at a table with several people we didn't know. Later, we ran into one couple, and the guy (we'll call him Jim) goes "hey it's our neighbors!" His girlfriend goes "um, those aren't our neighbors..." and we all kind of laughed. Then the guy is like "NO from the TABLE," which was true enough. We later sat down with them again. We learned that Jim and his girlfriend (we'll call her Karen) and their friend, the vegan (we'll call her Kate) are entertaining.

Jim has a very distinctive accent, combination southern drawl and someone very, very chill. In response to queries regarding what he does for a living, Jim tells us "I make teeth." To the understanding follow-up question of "how did you get into that?" he offered the clarifying explanation that he formerly worked in a tattoo shop, but doing piercings.

Karen asked if we both lived in town, and upon finding out that Jason lives in Atlanta, all three of them made faces like they'd smelled something dead and chorused "WHY??" (coincidentally, he received this response not just from this group, but from almost every person we talked to at the event. I found this amusing and edifying.)

Jim learned that it was Jason's birthday, and when he heard Jason's new age, he stared at him for a second and then said "dude...I don't know what the h*** you're eatin', but I want some." This was flattering for Jason and amusing for all. (Mild expletive abbreviated for curse-sensitive readers.) It turned out that Karen, Jim's girlfriend, is a nurse, so we consulted her about Jason's sprained ankle. She examined it and began explaining proper care for such a sprain (/ligament damage), all while Jim is interjecting with comments like "dude, no, don't listen to that. you're FINE. just have a couple drinks and you won't even be able to tell. Ice it? Naw. This is just a bunch of malarky."

Eventually we launched into a discussion with Karen regarding swine flu, and she was adament that when a vaccine is available, everyone should get vaccinated, because last time there was a swine flu (in like the 1920's), it went away and then came back even worse. As you can imagine, Jim found this ridiculous also. His solution to avoiding infection?

"Drink scotch and don't wash your hands. I guarantee it."

You heard it here first, folks.

A short story, or, sometimes cats are dumb.

2009-05-19T08:23:00.001-07:00

Francis, feline though he may be, is fascinated by water. He loves nothing more (besides looking out the window) than drinking out of the running sink. He watches in fascination while I am washing dishes (this may be more because this action is so rare due to lack of dishwasher that he is shocked by it.) He waits patiently each morning (sometimes batting at the curtain or sticking his head in to signal that he is losing patience) while I shower so that he can explore the empty tub. Ordinarily, I let him hop in there after I'm done, he walks around, attacks the shower curtain a little, and leaves.

I must provide the caveat that my tub is currently draining slower than it ought - I need to get some draino. But that is not the point of this tale. So I have recently just been shoo-ing him away from the shower til all the water is drained out. (You might be able to see where this is heading.)

So this morning while I am brushing my teeth, Francis manages to sneak into the bathroom undetected, thanks to his cat stealth. (*shout out to anyone who remembers the episode of the O.C. where Seth gets drunk and then claims to be "stealth" before falling across Ryan's car.) I am brushing away happily when I hear the following:

"SPLASH"

Curiousity, as they say, kills the cat - or, in this case, severely dampens him. I turned to see that Francis was frozen halfway between sitting and standing, with an expression on his face that said "what the..." (Not that he should have been surprised at the outcome of his decision given his usual habit of staring into the tub at the water draining before leaping in. As noted in the title, cats are sometimes dumb.)

He then attempted to sit, acting as though he had meant to jump into a giant puddle. He quickly reconsidered this and decided to try and get his footing to leap out, but the water made this a real challenge. By this point I had rinsed the toothpaste out of my mouth (didn't want to swallow the stuff and be poisoned - priorities) and got a towel to capture the cat, who lept from the tub into said towel. I then spent ten minutes rubbing him with the towel, then drying his tail, legs, and half his tummy with the hairdrier (in attempt to prevent damage to our new white bedspread.) You can imagine how much we both enjoyed this.

I didn't even bother trying to explain why I was slightly late to work this morning.

Smiles all around

2009-05-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

This story from cnn.com made me so happy I just had to post it. It contains:

A) minor league baseball players
B) old people in assisted living homes
C) general happiness and delight

Hope it makes your day like it did mine!

It's almost Friday, right?

2009-05-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

Big Red is great chewing gum. At least as far as flavor is concerned. But am I the only one that feels like I'm causing real damage to the interior of my mouth every time I chew it? I think there's gums missing now. I mean, there are pictures of flames on the package, maybe they're being literal.

A second ago I was looking at my to-do list, and realized it was kind of funny. It says the following:

-Zoo --> photo of Hank the chimp
-Little Richard
-Photos of "stars" for Dancing with the Stars Chattanooga
-Pops on the River --> calendar (fireworks pic.?)

One might easily fall under the impression that I'm running a three-ring circus. Especially when combined with the fact that there are high school baseball and softball players strutting around in the hallways in their uniforms.

Last night I went up to my friend Katie's [gorgeous] house because she's started selling Stella & Dot jewelry, which you do by having little parties. The jewelry is SO cute (see below) and the prices are great. I don't know if when you order from the website you can like put in a sales rep.'s name, but if you order some tell them Katherine Watson sent you!

Short one today, but that's about all I've got...

Francis update

2009-05-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are eager to see Francis in his altered state, I have to say that we went conservative and he ended up getting just a trim, as opposed to the full-on lion cut. I know. I was a little disappointed too, but in retrospect, I don't think his hair is fluffy enough for a lion cut to be truly impressive. But we might try it out next summer. My boss was very disappointed that I did not bring in photos of his new 'do, but really, if you're not used to looking at him it probably isn't very remarkable. He kind of looks like this now:

(This is not Francis, but a cat very similar to him in regards to color and current hair style.)

He now just pretty much looks like a short-haired cat, except his tail which is still long and fluffy (by request.) He's got such a lovely tail and he loves to unfurl it and parade around with it waving behind him, I would have hated for it to be reduced to a creepy rat-esque state. He looks much slimmer now, which I am pleased about because he is more kitten-like. And the choppy nature of a cat haircut is still kind of funny to look at. I'll attempt to post some actual Francis photos later.

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-05-08T10:47:00.000-07:00

Ahh, Friday. Friday has such a festive air about it - it's like a small version of that feeling of joy and anticipation you have on the last day of school before summer break. It helps if the day is sunny and delightful. This Friday, at least in Chatt-town, cannot seem to make up its mind. It's cloudy and grey, wait - no the sun is shining, was that thunder? now it's monsooning, now it's clear and sunshiney again & not a cloud in the sky, oh wait - cloudy again. So tricky, weather. Making my Friday feeling fluctuate.

Today is the day for young Francis the cat to get his hairs cut. I know, I know. But he's got this really long thick coat, and lately he's taken to sleeping either on the cool tiles in the kitchen or on top of the glass coffee table, directly under the ceiling fan. Given my window air conditioners, and the fact that I run them as little as possible because I am cheap, I fear that he is sweltering. He is bearing it nobly, only kind of complaining, but I feel bad for him. So, I went to his vets at the Cat Clinic (they also groom - these people REALLY like cats) to consult, and they recommended a cut.

Now, when we were in middle and high school, Lisa Swafford (now Vanderwall) and her family had a cat whose name was Kristen Faith Swafford. Kristen was one of those real kinds of cats, and she had big blue eyes and beautiful luxurious white fluffy fur. Very long white fluffy fur. Every spring, Kristen would get her long fluffy fur shorn so that she would not spontaneously combust in the heat of a southern summer. She was moderately stand-off-ish when she had her full coat, but after her trim, I remember she just acted embarrassed. She would skulk around the edges of a room, and hide behind furniture when possible. No one could catch her. Her cut looked something like this:
(this is not Kristen, but the photo of someone called misplacedparadox on flickr.)

As you can see, this look could be somewhat amusing. Maybe not for the cat, but for the owner and other humans. I wasn't sure about committing to something this drastic though (what if instead of funny Francis ended up looking like a giant bald rat?) I ended up telling them just to give him a trim, which they said is sometimes hard to make look normal, and if it looks weird, go ahead with the full-on lion. I am very interested to see what he looks like/if he still speaks to me when I go pick him up after work.

Wednesday? Already?

2009-05-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

Wow, I have been sort of bad at blogging this week. Sometimes I just can't think of anything particularly interesting to write about. I suppose I should be more disciplined in making myself think of things. That wasn't interesting. Rats.

First I suppose I should issue congratulations to Lucy, who has stepped it up to the big leagues (literally) by independently making her way across Claire and Reid's living room. Please see yeahweblog.com for video footage of this historic event.

So, you know what my lack of creative thought means...

THIS DAY IN HISTORY!

1527 - German troops began sacking Rome, bringing about the end of the Renaissance. The Germans immediately regretted this, saying "OH you said RENAISSANCE...we thought you said ghosts and plagues...sorry..." No one really believed this excuse.

1682 - King Louis XIV moved his court to Versailles, France. This, you may recall, included pretty much all nobles, so that he could keep an eye on everyone. It also made it possible for him to constantly humiliate these people into submission by making them do silly things like pretend to be foxes so he could practice hunting on horses. (Ok, I made that up, but he did make them do lots of silly things for this purpose.) He later moved back to Paris, complaining "there's just not enough closet space."

1856 - Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, was born in Freiberg, Moravia (present-day Pribor, Czech Republic). Through analysis, he realized this had something to do with his mother. And probably his father, too.

1882 - The U.S. Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act. The act barred Chinese immigrants from the U.S. for 10 years. It was finally repealed after Congress realized they were being huge jerks.

1915 - Babe Ruth hit his first major league home run while playing for the Boston Red Sox. "Baseball was, is and always will be to me the best game in the world." High five, Babe Ruth!

1937 - the hydrogen-filled German dirigible Hindenburg crashed in Lakehurst, N.J., a tragic event made doubly sad by the loss of the world "dirigible" from every day conversation.

1954 - Roger Bannister became the first athlete to run a mile in less than four minutes, finishing in 3 minutes 59.4 seconds during a track meet in Oxford, England. I mean, that's fast.

1960 - U.S. President Eisenhower signed the Civil Rights Act of 1960. Now everybody likes Ike.

1981 - A jury of international architects and sculptors unanimously selected Maya Ying Lin's entry for the design of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Her design was originally created for a class project at Yale, for which she received a B. Her professor also submitted a design for the memorial, and was clearly not selected. Something to keep in mind.

2004 - The final episode of "Friends" aired on NBC. 20-somethings the world over sang "So no one told you life was gonna be this way..." through their tears.

2009 - By celebrating his birthday, George Clooney becomes the hottest 48-year old in the world.

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-05-01T11:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday when I was getting off the elevator on my floor (yes, I know, I should take the stairs) the elevator landed, and the doors slid open to reveal one of the department heads who is an older man, probably in his sixties. He was standing, prepared to board the elevator, wearing grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, lavender and blue patterned bowtie (the real kind) and tortoise framed glasses, holding in his hand a gigantic cigar. This vision clearly made my day.

There is, of course, no smoking inside our building, but he was going downstairs to the sidewalk. I told one of my bosses about the delightful vision I had just seen, and he said "oh yeah, if you walk to lunch, you'll probably see him just strolling down the sidewalk smoking his cigar, looking like he owns the city." I have always thought this department head was just swell, mainly because of the bowties and the glasses (which he wears regularly), but now I like him even more. Someone who's good at fiction should write a short story or something about this image because I just love it. Too bad Scott Fitzgerald isn't around.

(For a peek into the life of a famous Chattanooga bowtie-wearer and his ice cream empire, see this month's magazine!)

Today is May Day, being the first day of May, which of course brings to mind May Day at GPS, one of my favorite traditions. This event honoring seniors, pretty dresses, and old school activities such as dancing around the May pole (see below photo, not of GPS but from some website called victoriantraditions.com) is fun for everyone, pretty much, except for the grounds crew who spend like a month worrying about whether it will rain on May Day and then if it does, coming up with innovative ways to try and dry out the grass. It is also not fun for male teachers at GPS, who for the most part think it is ridiculous. I, of course, think it is fantastic and feel lucky to have gone to a school with long-lasting and fun traditions. Having hung out with Babs in her capacity as YoungLife leader a little bit, I am happy to say that I've met this year's May Queen and she strikes me as a genuine delight.

In other news, my parents reported to me last night that in watching the local news the night before, they learned a valuable tip regarding transport in Tunnel Hill, Georgia (a nearby town.) Don't drive your horse drunk. Two men were apparently arrested after officers responded to neighbors complaints that they were riding recklessly. After being released from jail on bond, the men supposedly sold the horses immediately because (according to my parents, this is a quote from one of the men) the only reason they had bought the horses in the first place was to ride them when they were too drunk to drive. My stepdad says that the son of one of the men said on the news that he didn't understand why they'd been arrested, because they'd ridden the horses before when they were "a whole lot drunker than they was last night." Ahh, song of the south.

And people say television news is always bad news.

Knock on wood

2009-04-29T07:24:00.000-07:00

...is apparently what I should have done after that last post in which I was all like "Ooh la la, I love spring, la-di-dah, look at the beautiful sunshine streaming through my windows" because the weather was immediately like "Regulate!" and now it's going to rain for TEN DAYS STRAIGHT. Thanks, weather.com for that heartening news. Francis has already begun moping around with his furry face downcast because he cannot have his windows open during the day which, as he often reminds me, is one of his chief pleasures in his very simple life.

In a recent trip to Target (aka the danger zone) I spotted season two of "Psych" on sale for $19.99. While I admit to being something of a "Gilmore Girls" addict, with occasional stints of "Dawson's Creek" thrown in, I have taken a recent hiatus from both. Back in the day, during my first six months in Atlanta, when I lived alone and had very little going on in my life aside from occasional visits from Haynes (thanks buddy) - and when I also had cable - I was a dedicated follower of "Psych". For anyone who ever watched "The West Wing" (sigh...) one of the main characters on "Psych", Gus, is played by Dule' Hill (you'll know him as Charlie, President Bartlett's assistant.) The show is like a funny, witty, 80's pop culture reference-laden version of that show "The Mentalist" on CBS. Shawn, the other main character, is a hyper-observant person because he was trained by his cop-father. He pretends to be a psychic detective so people will take his observations seriously (despite how plain silly he is), and he and Gus are best friends since childhood, and partners in their psychic detective agency, called Psych. Shawn and Gus have a delightfully quick and witty reparte', and the cases they solve are always unique. If you're looking for a new show to netflix, I recommend Psych! Season Three should be coming out soon.

Shawn: "Well what about your teen wolf theory??"
Gus: "That's just fact! If any of us were in high school and some dude turned into a werewolf, we would not be cool with it just because he could dunk a basketball. I certainly wouldn't be making I-heart-wolf t-shirts."

Ok, that's all I've got. Enjoy your Wednesday!

Duly noted

2009-04-27T10:23:00.000-07:00

Given the lack of comments on my excited post re: split infinitives, I take it my select group of readers (thanks you three) is not interested in grammar.

You know something I think is awkward? When you're walking down the hall at work, and you pass the bathroom door and someone is coming out. It is right up there with riding the elevator with someone you don't know in the list of awkward office interactions. Especially if that person is of the opposite sex. I mean, this person has just used the restroom, and then you're like "hey..." and they are kind of like "hi..." but you're thinking, I know you were just in there...I hope you washed your hands...Maybe no one else finds this uncomfortable but it just happened and I thought I'd share.

I am SO EXCITED that it's finally warm and sunny. This is my favorite time of the year. I get so excited just being alive when it's beautiful and warm outside. My apartment is on the second floor and surrounded by lots of leafy trees, so it feels like a treehouse when the windows are open - which they have been pretty constantly since it got gorgeous outside. I know you're supposed to go outside when it's nice, and I do, but something about being in my apartment with the windows open and the trees rustling outside and the sun shining in patterns across the floor, and my new pomegranate tea and vanilla apple air fresheners (amazing - Target continues to be awesome) just makes me so happy.

Ever since I had the Merry Maids come and clean (yeah, I did) I have been a straightening champ. It's been like two weeks and my apartment has been neat as a pin ever since. (If you've ever lived with me, this information is no doubt amazing - but believe it.) Francis feels like he has a whole new home. After I get the picture/painting collage I've been planning for months hung up, I will post some photos of our Treehouse (on Tremont street - coincidence? I think not.) My next project is getting out of bed on time in the morning. (Yikes.)

Ok, that's about all I've got today. Is it five o'clock yet?

Nerd alert, nerd alert

2009-04-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

Since we had Mr. Henry for eighth grade English, and he got sick of trying to teach us to diagram sentences when we were clearly bad at it (and instead would make us bang our hands together and bark like seals because he thought our lack of grammatical knowledge made us ridiculous), I never learned what a split infinitive was.

Ok, it's possible that he did teach us that and I wasn't paying attention, or that I heard Ms. Exum talking about it in the hallway or something. However, I wonder about it every time I watch the Gilmore Girls episode where Paris is yelling at Bill in the Daily News office saying something to the effect of "Do you read the Washington Post, Bill? 'Cause they love to split their infinitives at the Post - but I don't! Fix it!" Since I read the Washington Post, I have been meaning to look it up for ages to see what she was talking about and today I finally did and was so pleased with my grammatical realization that I thought I'd share:

Split infinitive = breaking up the basic part of a verb (basic meaning "to run, to breathe, to eat") with some other part of speech. All the grammar websites say that the 'most famous' of all split infinitives is "to boldly go where no man has gone before," with the adverb 'boldly' interrupting the basic verb phrase 'to go.'

There's an on-going debate among "grammarians" regarding whether or not this type of phrase is grammatically correct. I realize I am nerdy, but I was excited to learn this. So excited that I followed it up with a realization about another grammatical phrase I've been perpetually unsure of - the dangling participle.

This one I'm pretty sure I did learn about in the past, but just forgot. This could be because it's often interchangeable with a grammar favorite, the misplaced modifier (word arrangement makes the sentence confusing or incorrect - She opened the refrigerator and saw the salad dressing.)

However, a dangling participle involves a specifically participial phrase, for example: "Turning the corner, the view was quite different." In this sentence, there's no noun that the participial phrase 'turning the corner' is modifying, so it makes it seem like the view is what is turning the corner, which is pretty improbable as a view is not really the kind of thing that turns corners. This type of phrase seems to be more straight-forwardly frowned upon by "grammarians."

Learning these things, the task of writing seems so much clearer.

Friday Afternoon Post

2009-04-17T10:56:00.000-07:00

This day in history is back again - mainly because I'm busy today!

1492 - Christopher Columbus signed a contract with Spain to find a passage to Asia and the Indies. He sailed, as you might recall, with three ships (say it with me- Nina, Pinta, Santa Maria) and discovered something else, but figured Ferdinand and Isabella wouldn't know the difference. And there you have it - America!

1521 - Martin Luther was excommunicated from the Roman Catholic Church. A direct result of a) being struck by lightening and b) nailing a list of 95 problems - of which his 'kicks' weren't one, to the church door at Wittenburg.

1704 - John Campbell published what would eventually become the first successful American newspaper. It was known as the Boston "News-Letter." Campbell was recently overheard muttering "I should have invented soup before my cousin" after news that many major dailies like the New York Times were on the verge of collapse.

1810 - Pineapple cheese was patented by Lewis M. Norton. Only one word for this one - SCORE.

1917 - A bill in Congress to establish Daylight Saving Time was defeated. It was passed a couple of months later. One more piece of evidence that even if Congress manages to make a good decision, they'll find a way to screw things up later.

1947 - Jackie Robinson (Brooklyn Dodgers) performed a bunt for his first major league hit. Hooray Jackie Robinson!! (Who else read In the year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson as a child? Ahh, third grade.

1961 - About 1,500 CIA-trained Cuban exiles launched the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba in a failed attempt to overthrow the government of Fidel Castro. As this was an unmitigated disaster, Castro and his familia continue to rule over Cuba despite the fact that most of the people who live there would leave if their fishing boats could make it to Miami.

1967 - The U.S. Supreme Court barred Muhammad Ali's request to be blocked from induction into the U.S. Army. Really Muhammad Ali? You thought they'd let the best fighter in the country skip the war?

1970 - Johnny Cash performed at the White House at the invitation of President Richard M. Nixon. He played "A Boy Named Sue." Everyone at the event wondered why the president looked so uncomfortable when Cash sang the lines " Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean, My fist got hard and my wits got keen, I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame."

2001 - Barry Bonds of the San Francisco Giants hit his 500th career home run, becoming the 17th major leaguer to reach the mark. Now he holds the all-time major league record with 762 home runs. I mean, steroids or not, I'm pretty sure I couldn't hit that many home runs.
Cartoon from bestdaily.com

Also, today is Jennifer Garner's birthday. Wonder if she's 13-going-on-30? Happy weekend!

A Family Affair

2009-04-16T12:47:00.000-07:00

Brief post, just minutes after the last one, but I just discovered that my Uncle Scott's wife Ginger has a website! Ginger is a veritable renaissance woman (to his renaissance man - the two are artists, potters, bakers, caterers, and craftsmen/women - it's impressive.) The website for her studio Green Gate Gallery features pictures of her various cool artworks in clay and also on paper. So, if you feel the need for some cool art in your life, check it out!

(this is my personal favorite - the colors are so great! my living room walls have been waiting...)

Dress-up and maybe a little rant...

2009-04-16T10:24:00.001-07:00

When I was little, I loved playing dress-up. (Shocking, I know.) I would spend hours pretending to be a grown-up, wearing flowing hand-me down dresses and sequined dance costumes with wide-brimmed hats and strand-after-strand of beads. I couldn't wait to get older so I could dress up like grownups did. I'd watch my beautiful grandmother carefully spray her hair with Aquanet hairspray, adjust the collar on her dress, and put on her pretty rings. I'd dutifully stand-by as she put on her bright coraline lipstick, hoping she would (as always) dab a little on my own tiny lips. Who wouldn't want to be a grown-up? It was so pretty.

I've often feared that adults have lost this in our casual culture of jeans and flip-flops - certainly my own go-to option when dressing on the weekends. In her book "An American Childhood," Annie Dillard describes watching her parents get ready for a party, or entertain their friends, and it's with this rose-colored view that adults lived in a whole different world from kids who wore cuffed jeans and played kick-the-can in the driveway. The show "Mad Men" has quickly become a huge sensation - but what is it about these mid-century characters that makes them seem so glamorous? In large part, it's the clothes. The guys aren't walking around in tshirts and cargo shorts - they're wearing sharply creased pants and tailored jackets. The women aren't wearing too-small tank tops and jeans with holes in them - they're wearing 'new look' circle skirts and coordinated sweater sets and broaches.

This post is inspired by my dear George Will's column at the Washington Post today, entitled "America's Bad Jeans." While some of it is a little heavy-handed, much of it resonated. "Denim," George says, "is the clerical vestment for the priesthood of all believers in democracy's catechism of leveling -- thou shalt not dress better than society's most slovenly... That heresy leads to denying the universal appropriateness of everything, and then to the elitist assertion that there is good and bad taste. " Now, I don't have a problem with jeans in a casual context (George hates them as a general rule), however I love the point he makes. As "anything goes" dress becomes an increasing uniform in our society, as he says, society can gradually deny that anything can be deemed "inappropriate," or alternately, appropriate for a given context.

(photo from some brand called miss you jeans. and yes, that is apparently caridee.)

I cringe everytime I see one of the many of my (adult) colleagues at work who daily wear ratty jeans and a top revealing various parts of their undergarments. Many of these people interact with clients and important members of our community on a regular basis. Why have so many Americans given up on looking even remotely dignified? If I walk into someone's office wearing jeans and a peasant blouse, will they or will they not offer me less respect and consideration than if I show up wearing a nice skirt and heels? I'm not talking about being the most gorgeous person in the office, I'm talking about looking professional. Perhaps they feel they're making some sort of statement by dressing so casually...like a statement that they aren't tied down by wearing...nice clothes? People wear suits for job interviews, but then push the very limits of the dress code once they get the job. It doesn't make sense. Do you not want people to take you seriously once you work for them too? The way you present yourself is the first indicator anyone has of the respect you think you deserve. Especially in an office environment, I don't see any excuse for this.

Our first lady, who despite whatever else I may think of her always keeps it classy with her wardrobe - please note she is working at a community kitchen here, but wearing a nice cardigan and button up shirt. Hallelujah. (photo from huffington post - eek.)

American culture so often demands that everything be 'easy' and 'comfortable' that anything but is practically intolerable. Is it really so terrible to take the time to put on a dress in the morning than hole-y jeans and a glorified tank top? I think this is a reflection of our culture in general. Bill Cosby has certainly caught a lot of flack for proposing this very idea, despite its clear legitimacy. I'm edging on a much broader rant here, but what I mean to say is - I'd love to see adults get back some of the dignity they used to have. In these days of grown-ups voluntarily signing up to make fools of themselves on reality shows and pitching fits that a four-year-old would be punished for if something goes wrong with their dinner order, I would love to see people offer themselves a little more respect. And as Stacey and Clinton would absolutely tell us, that can certainly start with the way we dress.

Ahh, springtime and baseball

2009-04-14T11:05:00.001-07:00

You know how when you go to gas stations, sometimes they have big speakers everywhere with someone shouting advertisements for things their gas station sells. The Golden Gallon on Brainerd Road when I was in high school used to have one that started out with a guy shouting "Ahhhh, springtime and baseball!!" I don't know what that has to do with gas stations or what they sell in the convenience store, but it became a part of my vernacular anyway.

Today is Lookouts opening home game!! Katie and Lacey and I will be there with bells on. I am very excited because the Lookouts being at Bellsouth park means one thing - spring is here and summer is on its way. Even though I will be working this summer, I am still so excited about it. I've always had summer jobs anyway, so I figure it won't really be that much different! I'm so ready for walking across the bridge to Nightfall, half price wine night on the back porch at Mudpie, beverages and fireworks at the Lookouts games, the B-52's at Riverbend, driving down to Port St. Joe for the beach and some tradition, and every other wonderful thing that warm weather brings!

This past weekend we went to Augusta to visit Jason's family and to attend the Masters at Augusta National. Even though I don't know a whole lot about golf, it was such a cool experience to see the beautiful course (now joins the course at the Greenbrier as the prettiest I've seen) and watch players like Tiger Woods up close. Here are a couple photos (courtesy of geocities and hubpages.com as you cannot take cameras into the course):

They are very proud of their azaleas there. According to Jason, they sometimes spray the buds with ice in order to delay their blooming until time for the tournament. As a souvenier of the trip, I selected the Tervis tumbler complete with embroidered Masters logo (my mother will be v. proud of this as she swears by the Tervis tumblers. If you want to know more about them, ask her.)

It was a very fun weekend!

The Friday Morning Post

2009-04-10T07:09:00.000-07:00

Wow. Sometimes I don't like Charles that much, but this time I'd like to shake his hand.

Today is crazy photo shoot day, so not much time for blogging. This morning we shot two leading young politicos - a Republican and a Democrat - and they were both charming and pleasant and got along perfectly with each other. A refreshing change in the somewhat (ha) acerbic political climate America is rocking these days. The shoot was so fun, because they were laughing, enjoying themselves and joking around, reminds me why this job is pretty awesome.

Now we're going to shoot the Riverbend guy, which will be fun too (p.s. guess who's coming to Riverbend this year? Here's a hint; "TIN ROOF - RUSTED.") Then later today the best of all, the man himself from the south's favorite local ice cream/dairy company here to ham it up with a few scoops - anyone with hints about how to keep ice cream from melting immediately under the bright lights of a photo studio is WELCOME to drop those hints here.

Happy Friday!

It's a shame no one pays attention to Ron

2009-04-08T10:40:00.000-07:00

Ron Paul is so practical and such a scholar and it makes me sad that everyone just writes him off as a crazy person when often he is the only one who makes sense! (I say 'often' rather than 'constantly' because I think some of his foreign policy ideas are kind of far-fetched, and although it would be logical and awesome if we could, I don't think there's any way to get our economy back to a gold standard - Sorry Ron!)

I very much recommend his book 'Revolution,' it's pretty amazing how straightforward and sensible his ideas are, compared with most politicians. Plus he is a genuine student of this country, government, and economics - in addition to being a medical doctor. Which is like a million times more than most members of congress could say. This is short - but the guy is just plain right about education - and most likely no one will pay attention. Fun fact - if you went to Auburn and ever passed the Von Mises Institute on Magnolia and wondered what it was, it is an economic think-tank named for and based on the principles of Ludwig von Mises, whom Dr. Paul mentions in this statement and is a big fan of.

My personal favorite essay of his (there are a lot) is 'What does freedom really mean?' He is eloquent and clear. Keep in mind that although Dr. Paul is a Republican, he is more against the war in Iraq than anybody else in Washington. Here's an excerpt from this essay:

"The problem is that democracy is not freedom. Democracy is simply majoritarianism, which is inherently incompatible with real freedom. Our founding fathers clearly understood this, as evidenced not only by our republican constitutional system, but also by their writings in the Federalist Papers and elsewhere. James Madison cautioned that under a democratic government, “There is nothing to check the inducement to sacrifice the weaker party or the obnoxious individual.”

Consider Dr. Paul. Also consider Kathleen Parker, who is hilarious, and on a major roll in today's opinion column at the Washington Post. A quote: "If George W. Bush was a cowboy, Obama is a group hug."

In other news, the pirates (who have been previously mentioned in this blog) have been defeated by the crew of an American ship they tried to capture! News reports don't seem to have information about the methods utilized to dissuade the pirates, but I'm betting the crew went with a crocodile with a ticking clock inside of it.

Triumph the blog post

2009-04-07T13:30:00.000-07:00

I have successfully defeated my inattentive nature and have completed the calendar for the May issue approximately two weeks before I usually do - hooray! This is quite the achievement, let me tell you, and I was only able to do it thanks to the snide comments made by one creative director to one self regarding the typical lateness of said calendar. He is currently on vacation, and will have a nice, finished calendar awaiting him upon his return. What then?

Hmm, not a lot else to comment on besides that pat on my own back, I do think this is awesome (scroll down to see the story and photo gallery) - I would totally ride this to work. Convenience/environmental friendliness without helmet hair, the silliness of a Segway and having to shower twice in one morning? Fantastic.

Probably the shortest post ever...

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-04-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

I recognize that it is not fair for me to get frustrated that people don't constantly write in their blogs to keep me entertained when I myself only write like twice a week. (I appreciate Erin and Lindsay who typically do a very steady job of supplying me with something to read!!)

So I am therefore publishing the Friday Afternoon Post even though as I type this I can't think of any real news to report (I'm sure whoever might be reading this is now gearing up for a fun time...)

I choose instead to utilize my training and background as an historian (look Dr. Sayel, I'm using my degree!) to provide you people with some THIS DAY IN HISTORY facts, with accompanying commentary supplied by the editor (self.)

ON APRIL 3rd...
1) 1829 - James Carrington patented the coffee mill. Many third world countries in South America, as well as the entire city of Seattle, have this guy to thank for the world-wide caffeine addiction he enabled. Thanks, James, for expediting the best part of waking up!

2) 1865 - Union forces occupy Confederate capital of Richmond, Virginia. Contrary to popular belief, the Confederate States of America did in fact come to an end.

3) 1882 - The American outlaw Jesse James was shot in the back and killed by Robert Ford for a $5,000 reward. There was later controversy over whether it was actually Jesse James that had been killed. Soon after, Robert became the wild west's first spokesman for regularly updating your glasses prescription.

4) 1933 - First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt informed newspaper reporters that beer would be served at the White House. Thanks, Mrs. Roosevelt, for clearing the path for our president to give the Queen of England an ipod and the Prime Minister a dvd box-set. The White House, keepin' it classy since 1933.

5) 1948 - Harry Truman signed the Marshall Plan to revive war-torn Europe. The plan entailed the gifting of $5 billion in aid for 16 countries. Thanks, Pres. Truman for an historical event that I most likely will never be able to stop confusing with the Monroe Doctrine (they are not even remotely the same thing.)

6) 1968 - Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his "mountaintop" speech just 24 hours before he was assassinated. In all seriousness, just plain thanks to Dr. King.

7) 1972 - Charlie Chaplin returned to the U.S. after a twenty-year absence. He was clearly waiting for a decade when ridiculous facial hair was a norm rather than a unique attribute.

8) 1998 - The Dow Jones industrial average climbed above 9,000 for the first time... "What goes up, must come down - spinning wheel got to go 'round..." Thanks Blood, Sweat & Tears.

9) 2000 - The Nasdaq set a one-day record when it lost 349.15 points to close at 4,233.68. It then made the comment "You think this is something? JUST WAIT!!" in a press conference.

Focus please - I am a camera.

2009-04-01T13:19:00.000-07:00

1) Wild berry skittles...what was I thinking? Bleck. Double bleck.

2) Trying to organize notes and quotes and phone calls to write article about Alzheimer's is making me feel somewhat as though I have Alzheimer's. Blast.

3) Recommended La Altena (one of our favorite restaurants - delicious, cheap, and authentic [at least for Tennessee] Mexican food) to one of my bosses who is now a convert! Hooray for supporting local businesses.

4) Writer, regarding his interview subject: "It's kind of hard to call a grown man Scottie..." Me: "Well at least his name's not Bucky or something." Writer: "Haha...My dad's name is Bucky. What are you trying to say? [pause] I'm just kidding." Oh April fools day, how hilarious you are.

5) A certain professional football player and UTC alum in a press release regarding a recent award for his work with the Alzheimer's Association: "I am committed to help raise the awareness of the disease for the Alzheimer's Association...to do whatever I can."

Oh, really? How 'bout tell your agent I can have five minutes on the phone with you to get some comments about your work with the Association. I mean, I know you're not at spring training with your new team.

6) Chipper Jones is awesome. Here is a baseball player, probably going to end up in the hall of fame, record-holding batter, and yet he has stuck with the same team his entire career. Maybe he could have gone somewhere else and made a few million more dollars, but the team meant something to him, so he stayed, and now he's signed on to finish his career in Atlanta. Respect.

7) Breaking news courtesy of Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post, regarding our society's unhealthy thirst for information:

"Unchecked "infomania" -- yes, there's even a term for this instapathology -- can lead to a lower IQ, according to a 2005 Hewlett-Packard study. The research, conducted by a University of London psychologist, found that people distracted by e-mail and phone calls lost 10 IQ points, more than twice the impact of smoking marijuana -- or comparable to losing a night's sleep."

For real?? Perhaps NOW people will stop harassing me about screening phone calls and never checking my voicemail. Shhhh - I need gmail open at all times for work-related reasons...

Why I'm not washing my right hand anymore or, Chris Thile touched me

2009-03-31T06:16:00.000-07:00

It's true, folks. The day finally came. Some of you may remember my quest to interview Chris Thile a couple months ago. While that venture proved unsuccessful, (through a combination of factors, really) the dream in part became a reality anyway. Last night, Jason and I attended part of his Christmas present, a Punch Brothers concert here in Chattanooga at the UTC Fine Arts Center. Although it's a very nice concert hall, it's a relatively small venue, so we knew walking in that the evening was off to a great start.

As we took our seats (artfully selected via the hall's seating chart and memories of ballet recitals in said hall by yours truly) we discerned that our near eye level seating arrangement would be ideal. Then the house lights dimmed and the guys took the stage and everyone (self and Jason included) nearly had a stroke upon seeing Chris himself live and in the flesh - and like ten feet away from us. I am certain there was definitely some eye contact. The audience was so enthusiastic after each piece that the band kept laughing and remarking on what 'sweet people' Chattanooga has (what can I say? I've been trying to persuade ya'll that this place is awesome for years - maybe you'll listen to Chris.) At one point Chris remarked on what a good time he was having, and everyone clapped and hollered again, eliciting his comment that it was such a good audience that we'd "even clap for his having a good time!"

But the best part came at the end. The band played their last encore, (a rendition of 'Heart in a Cage' that nearly brought the house down) then Chris announced that they would be autographing things and meeting audience members in the lobby after the show. It's true. We met them all. The bass player, Paul, said he liked my red shoes, and we had a discussion about his own red shoes. Chris asked if my name ended with a y or an ie, and said "don't sound so downcast!" when I told him "just a -y." And we shook all of their hands. Chris even offered a bit of a bow. I may have been shaking a little. We considered sticking around til they left to stalk them a little more, but decided against it as Jason had to go to work at the crack of dawn.

People, let me tell you that if you live in a city where the Punch Brothers will be playing, you need to buy a ticket. These guys are incredibly talented musicians. They're also v. amusing and the show is so much fun. Jason proclaimed it the "best Christmas present EVER."

And now, back to work.

Pimp this bum

2009-03-26T11:47:00.000-07:00

So I was visiting the cnn website today, and came across an article about a website called pimpthisbum.com. Initially I was like "what is this? Is someone doing something really shady to homeless people?" but I quickly found that couldn't be further from the truth.

These two guys in Houston, Texas, Kevin and Sean Dolan (a father and son) started an online marketing business. In order to create a model to use as proof that their strategies could work, they decided to try and help someone out. So they came up with the site "Pimp this bum," and set out to find a homeless man, which they quickly did - a guy named Tim Edwards, an alcoholic living beneath an underpass in Houston. They gave him a sign to hold with the site address on it, and $100 a day to hold it. According to his testimony, he was pretty stoked about the $100, but it turned out to mean so much more for him.

On the site, people could donate anything to help Tim out - a cup of coffee, a sandwich, crossword puzzle books, or $20. So many people were surprised by his sign, visited the site, and wanted to help that the site ended up raising $50,000 for Tim. An alcohol rehab facility in Seattle donated a five-week program to him, and Southwest airlines gave Tim and Sean Dolan tickets to fly there. Now, thanks to all the donations, Tim is really getting his life together, and has a brand new start that he calls simply "a blessing." The site follows his story, and is now also helping some of his friends.

In these days of constant bad news, it's pretty nice to read a story about people coming together to support a stranger who's had a rough go of it. Thanks for some good news, cnn! (I assume Ali of course had something to do with this excellent decision making.)

Lunch break, or, how I almost got hit by a city bus

2009-03-24T09:51:00.001-07:00

Some days you just want a smoothie. Particularly, the Cherry Picker, from that denizen of smoothie greatness, Smoothie King. Today was one of those days, so I headed down to the S.K. on Market Street, next to the SportsBarn. I drove down Broad, hoping to find a parking place, then turned on Third Street, where after driving one block I prepared to turn right onto Market. The light was green, the sky was blue, a couple guys in suits crossed the street a little quicker so I could turn, and then I saw her.

Barreling down the steep opposite hill of Third Street was a huge city bus driven by a [proportionally speaking] equally huge woman with a 'don't even think about it' look on her face. I was almost mid-turn - turning right, mind you, on green - but stopped because I could tell that although she was surely trained in some sort of professional bus-driving traffic school, this woman clearly had little regard for the rules of traffic. She was well on her way to cutting me off in her giant bus and turning - LEFT - in front of me (see Figure A.) Fortunately, the two guys in the suits had hurried across the street for me, because otherwise they'd be toast right now. Fortunately also, I was paying attention, and stopped mid-turn, otherwise both myself and the guys in the suits would be toast right now.

Figure A)

Disregarding self and guys in suits, what if the light had changed as she barrelled down the hill? She would have plowed on through, possibly causing a large and fatal traffic accident. What on Earth was she doing in such a hurry? There are plenty of other buses for Chattanoogans to ride, and everyone who's ever ridden a Tiger Transit knows buses are never on time, so it's not like she was trying to meet a schedule. She was either a) just stupid, or b) both stupid and, as Christina says in You've got Mail, "like one of those people who brag because they're tall," hurtling her giant bus through traffic because she was bigger and therefore could.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to note her bus number as she was flying by me like a speeding locomotive, but I am currently googling the number to call about these busses in attempt to report her. Get this maniac off the streets and give some down-on-their-luck, recently laid-off person the job.

In other news, have recent (read: 2008-2009) economic events have left your head spinning, wondering "what on Earth is a credit default swap?" or "will I personally be negatively effected by the London Interbank Offered Rate, or LIBOR?"

If these questions sound familiar to you, Ali, our resident political expert - and resident of what might become the 51st state (nope, not Puerto Rico or the Virgin Islands, think the other random contestant in Miss America) - has something to share. CNNMoney has conveniently created a glossary of tricky terms to help everyday Americans understand what the h. is going on. I have found it very useful mere hours after it was passed on to me, in reading the Vanity Fair article about the collapse of Iceland's economy, which I will now quote from to close:

"You have a dog, and I have a cat. We agree that they are each worth a billion dollars. You sell me the dog for $1 billion, and I sell you the cat for $1 billion. Now we are no longer pet owners, but Icelandic banks with a billion dollars in new assets."

If only all economic crises could be explained in such plain (and humorous) terms.

Friday Morning Post special section

2009-03-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

I forgot today was the official First Day of Spring!!! Huzzah!!! And right on cue, it is absolutely gorgeous outside, blue skies, sunny sunshine, grass turning green on the hill at UTC, and sixty four degrees. Ideal! Hooray for spring.

That is not Chattanooga, but rather somewhere in England I think (someone on the internet took it) but it is lovely and springy, so hurrah!

Also, Charlie K. is right on the money today - 'Bonfire of the Trivialities' is also a fab. title for a column. Almost as fab as George's 'Wild Wild West' yesterday...too bad that one made zero sense. I'm thinking he accidentally posted a really rough draft.

The Friday Morning Post

2009-03-20T05:56:00.001-07:00

Success!! This is not the only post of the week! V. proud of me, if I do say so myself. Let's see, what's the news today...

I finally caved and bought some new tennis shoes. That way, I cannot use "my shoes don't fit right and will give me more blisters" as an excuse for not exercising. I even went to the fancy [and most likely overpriced] running shoe store where they watch your foot when you walk and analyze all your weird bones and stuff and then select a few shoes for you to try. So, an absurd amount of money later, I am the proud owner of these:

Sadder news, the UTC Mocs were unsuccessful in fulfilling their destiny in the Big Dance. While I suppose it was a long shot that the number 16 seed would defeat UConn, a number 1 seed, I think thanks to Jimmy Fallon the whole country was hoping for it (including Mr. Belding.) Maybe next year, Scrappy and Mocs, maybe next year.

Yesterday I dined with Katie and Lacey at the Market Street Tavern on the ol' lunch hour. The service was slow-to-quite-slow, but the black bean burger with cilantro cream and fries were v. tasty/delicious. Lunch menu prices were pretty good too, as downtown restaurants go. My efforts to compel them to dine from the little cart on the sidewalk by Miller Park went unheeded, but since as far as I know the emergence of so called "street food" in Chattanooga is kind of a new deal, I want to try it out.

Also, some collegiate joy bubbled up inside of me when I saw that they are installing a Jimmy Johns in the bottom of the Electric Power Board building. While their commercials are often just downright creepy, their sandwiches are delightful, and it will take me like 2 minutes to get there from the TFP via car (longer on foot, which I generally don't have time for, but it would be nice) AND it's way easier to park there than at Figgy's Sandwiches, where it is a small miracle to find a space. (Although Figgy's tuna salad is top notch, and where else can you get a sandwich and chips for $4.50?)

Tonight, I have a date with Katie, and she is going to make us dinner and we are going to watch lots and lots of 'Friends.' Lacey made fun of us for our plans, but there are few things I enjoy more than dinner and tv/a movie, so I am quite pleased with them!

And now I must close with a few good quotes...

Monica: Can you help me fold these napkins?
Phoebe: Sure.
Monica: I'm gonna go across the hall and check on the yams.
[Notices the way Pheobe is folding the napkins]
Monica: No... no honey... Not like that, we're not a barn dance. You wanna fold them like swans like I showed you at Christmas, remember?
Phoebe: Yeah. It all came screaming back to me.

Chandler: I can handle this. "Handle" is my middle name. Actually, "handle" is the middle of my first name.

Chandler: And this from the cry-for-help department: Are you wearing makeup?
Joey: Yes, I am. As of today, I am officially Joey Tribbiani, actor slash model.
Chandler: That's funny, 'cause I was thinking you look more like Joey Tribbiani, man slash woman.

Rachel: How about for a girl, Rain?
Ross: Rain? "Hi, my name is Rain. I have my own kiln and my dress is made out of wheat."
Phoebe: I know her!

Happy Friday!

Things that Saint Patrick should drive out, in addition to snakes

2009-03-17T07:24:00.000-07:00

1) I have not received a ticket recently, but I think it is a wrong and cheap way of drumming up more revenue from taxpayers for cities to install those speed cameras all over the place, and not even bother to alert anyone to their presence. At least in Chattanooga, the cameras are small and beige, and blend in with the light poles they're attached to. I just tried to look up and find out where they are in my fair city, so I know when to watch out, and there is no information about them posted anywhere. The least that they could do would be to alert citizens to their presence before they receive a creepy photo-ticket of themselves in the mail! The cameras need to go.

2) Wondering where the mortgage crisis came from? Check out this article Ali posted this morning from the New York Times in 1999. Creepy!! Item two is POTUS 42 and his lady.

3) Need I say more?
Feel free to add your own suggestions to this list!

On the Town

2009-03-16T12:17:00.000-07:00

As the weather gets warmer and the flowers continue to bloom and trees return to their perky green, I'm sure you will get ample chance to witness opining about my pretty city. All last week, the weather was blah. Cold, grey, rainy, foggy, zero fun. Yesterday after I got home from church and had lunch, I laid down for a long winters nap with my trusty feline, who of course was exhausted after a week of being truly obnoxious at all hours of the night/early morning.

(Sidenote: Francis does not like it when I have guests. Particularly Jason. He is a very jealous cat and does not appreciate it if he feels that someone is an interloper on any attention that might normally be directed at his furry self. He takes his anger out by utilizing his full arsenal of tactics in waking people up at annoying times, including but not limited to: slamming his face into your ears/eye sockets/nose/general face area, walking all over you, standing with his foot on your throat so it is difficult to breathe, laying directly across your face so it is difficult to breathe, howling at the top of his lungs, scratching at the blinds, attacking your feet under the covers with his claws/teeth. Jason said that he woke up at one point and Francis was standing over him maliciously pressing his paw over Jason's nose. This makes it very difficult to sleep when he is angry. It also makes you kind of hate him for a while.)

Anywho, Francis and I slept for a solid three hours or so, and when we awoke, found that it was sunny outside! That meant that it was time for me to begin my new determination to exercise (I've used up all my pilates classes and grown lazier immediately.) So I find my tennis shoes in the trunk of my car (where they've been for...a really long time...), fire up the ipod, and head down the street. By the time I reached Frazier Avenue, it is apparent that everyone else in Chattanooga was equally thrilled/inspired by the pretty weather. The people in this town come out in droves when the weather is even remotely nice and this was certainly true yesterday. There were people everywhere. Some out for exercise, some out for a casual stroll, all along the bridges and riverbanks. Aside from learning that my tennis shoes definitely don't fit properly, it was a lovely day to go outside, and I look forward to many more. But then, when your city looks like this (courtesy of treehugger.com - ha), how could you not take it in?

The Friday Morning Post

2009-03-13T07:52:00.001-07:00

Wow, kind of sad that this appears to be the only time I actually write. I'd say I promise to get better, but you know what they say about good intentions.

Jason's been here all week, which is a nice change from his not being here during the week, and we've been going all around town taking pictures of sushi restaurants, sushi chefs, and sushi itself for the magazine. Believe me when I say that this is a very favorable assignment. Turns out there are lots of places in Chattanooga you can go and get really tasty sushi, and when you go to photograph it, lots of them hand it out for free - yum.

Sad news is that the beautiful spring weather that was making me wake up singing "Oh what a beautiful morning" every day (not really, but I certainly felt that way by the afternoon) has gone. In its place is nasty cold wintery weather and rain. This, as Maggie and I would have said in high school, is a travesty, it's a sham, it's a mockery - it's a traveshamockery.

I'll close this brief and relatively uninteresting post with the note that Gerson's, Krauthammer's, and Will's most recent columns in the Washington Post are all very solid and worth reading. An inspired and amusing concluding quote from my dear George:

"Although only a small fraction of the supposedly countercyclical stimulus will be spent by the end of the year, the budget assumes that by then the economy will have perked up, and that it will grow robustly -- 3.2 percent, 4 percent and 4.6 percent -- in the next three years. Growth supposedly will cut the deficit in half -- growth and the $1.6 trillion "saved" by first assuming, and then "canceling," a 10-year continuation of the surge in Iraq. Why, one wonders, not "save" $5 trillion by proposing to spend that amount to cover the moon with yogurt and then canceling the proposal?"

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-03-06T13:03:00.001-08:00

Woah, I honestly hadn't fully processed that it was Friday til a little while ago. This day has been somewhat busy. I am attempting to write an article about Alzheimer's for the next issue, and as I am not a scientist or a neurologist, this has required quite a bit of research. I just solicited all of my scientific friends to see who had access to a particular journal, as I needed an article from it and do not own a subscription, nor do I want to pay $32 for one article (really?? scientists are sure proud of their research...) It is so handy to have friends in various fields. I would say that one advantage to growing up is that our friends become increasingly professional and expert, which can be quite helpful! Anyhow, thanks to Lee I will now be able to spend many delightful hours trying to decipher sentences like "Cellular prion protein mediates impairment of synaptic plasticity by amyloid-beta oligomers" (and that's just the title...expect me to be smarter by Monday.)

I have talked to a lot of pretty important Chattanoogans today - a prominent neurologist and Alzheimer's expert, a potential U.S. Attorney appointee, the head of the Chattanooga Visitors Bureau, the editor of the paper. It made me realize how unique my job is, in that I have access to and communication with a lot of interesting people that most folks don't have, and I should really be grateful for that! I always like my job, but sometimes I forget how blessed I am to have ended up here! I talk to so many different people in the course of the day, from neurologists to the grandmother of a kid whose picture ended up in the magazine, and it's really a fun place to be.

It's almost time for me to leave, so this is going to be a brief and random post, but let me mention something else that those close to me have not heard the end of for the last few days. I just bought an album called "War Child - Heroes." First, it is just a straight up cool album. Artists like David Bowie, Paul McCartney, Bruce Springsteen, and The Ramones picked one of their own songs, and a current group or artist to cover it. So groups/artists like Duffy, Franz Ferdinand, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and The Hold Steady have done all these really awesome covers of classic songs. My current obsession is The Hold Steady's cover of Springsteen's "Atlantic City;" it is AMAZING. So that's cool, but the even cooler thing about this album is that it's a non-profit, and all proceeds from the album and related merchandise go towards the organization, War Child, which takes education and relief programs to wartorn countries like the Congo and Afghanistan to help children get back to normal life - even going as far as to reconnect former child soldiers with their families. I think that is so cool, so everyone should go buy this really fab album and know that your $10 is going to a really neat cause.

Alright, happy weekend everyone!

Danger, Will Robinson...

2009-03-04T08:56:00.000-08:00

Ali turned my attention this morning to the ever-pragmatic Michael Gerson's most recent column, "A Week of Revelation," in the Washington Post. Just this morning I was listening to npr, and heard the question that seems to be everywhere. 'So much has been done to try and shore up the economy, why do the markets keep falling?' It has seemed lately like there's no bottom. I'm including Gerson's take on the new budget, which is pretty scary to the right-leaning of the world. It'll be followed by a few personal thoughts, for those who are interested.

"Obama chose a time of recession to propose a massive increase in progressivity -- a 10-year, trillion-dollar haul from the rich, already being punished by the stock market collapse and the housing market decline. This does not just involve undoing the Bush tax reductions but capping tax deductions to collect about $30 billion a year. Despite all the rhetoric of "responsibility" and shared sacrifice, the message of the Obama budget is clear: The wealthy are responsible for the economic mess and they will bear the entire sacrifice so that government can "invest" in the people.

But governments do not "invest," they spend. Such spending can be justified or unjustified. It is wealthy individuals, however, who actually invest their capital in job creation. Most have much less capital than they used to. Under the Obama budget, they would have less still. This does not seem to matter in the economic worldview of the Obama budget. Equality is the goal instead of opportunity or economic mobility. And government, in this approach, is more capable of investing national wealth than America's discredited plutocrats -- meaning successful two-income families, entrepreneurs and professionals.

This is not merely the rejection of "trickle-down economics," it is a weakening of the theoretical basis for capitalism -- that free individuals are generally more rational and efficient in making investment decisions than are government planners.

This ideological shift is also evident in Obama's treatment of charitable giving. The new budget seeks to raise billions for health reform by limiting the charitable deduction for the wealthy. This is a direct claim that the good done by government spending will be more important than the good done by the wealthy. But it is often wealthy people who make the large donations that sustain colleges, universities and teaching hospitals. If government is inherently superior at making such charitable choices in the public good, why not make our entire education and medical systems public? Which seems to be the goal.

As a practical matter, the promise of expensive, shared public goods entirely at the expense of the rich is a transparent deception. A good portion of the budget's spending reduction is illusory -- based on the phony assumption that Iraq and Afghanistan war outlays would have continued at similar levels in perpetuity. The budget's growth assumptions are not remotely realistic. It does little to address the crisis of unsustainable Social Security and Medicare obligations. And its $634 billion health-care reform "fund" is merely a down payment -- perhaps a third of the future cost.

So who is going to eventually pay for this accelerating debt, temporarily held by the Chinese and others? As the national debt's percentage of GDP moves from about 40 percent to perhaps 70 percent, there will not be enough wealthy people left to bleed. Once the economy recovers, broad tax increases will be unavoidable. Or Obama's "once-in-a-generation chance" will actually involve the imposition of massive burdens on the next generation."

One thing about this that I find interesting, as I shared with Ali, is the idea that the market IS responding to the new budget - and that's what we're seeing when it falls.Everyone keeps being like "How come the market continues to fall even though Obama is doing all this stuff to bail it out??" but no one has considered, that I've heard, that perhaps the markets aren't recovering because the wealthy are battening down the hatches because of what they see coming down the pike. They're saving and saving because they see that they're about to get hosed.

I quote Ali, resident political genius and consultant on all things political: "I think they see they are about to get hosed. If you come across one of those line graphs of the Dow over the course of a day, you can pretty much guess the hour every time when someone from the Administration is speaking; every time Obama, Geithner or Orszag has spoken, testified, etc, the markets spaz and drop. It is the most blatant illustration that the market - which has a mind of its own - does not like what these guys are doing. Fox's headline? 'Loose Lips, Dow Dips.' "

Apologies for all the politics, now I'm going to lunch!

The Friday Afternoon Post

2009-02-27T12:17:00.000-08:00

Sorry, Erin, the Morning Post has shifted to afternoon publication due to business in the morning this Friday :)

Let's see, what's in the news for the Friday Afternoon Post this week? Lent has begun, and given my recent Anglicanism, I decided I should probably give something up. So, ladies and gentlemen, I will not be purchasing any clothing between now and Easter. For some of you, this may not seem like a big deal, but the two emails I received today from J.Crew and my March Vogue are both indicators that this might be a tricky lenten season, which I guess is kind of the point.

I also cut my hair this week, having not done so since like, August. It was crazy long, and making me crazy. So after reading an article in said Vogue about the new haircut, I decided it was time. Turns out, I wanted exactly eight inches removed, so in addition to a new look, I inadvertantly got a new title - philanthropist, because the haircut lady (Kim, p.s., if you ever need your hair cut or colored, she's pretty awesome - I'll give you her number) is sending it to Locks of Love, for little kids who are sick and need wigs! Don't worry, it's not as short as that makes it seem (if you were concerned about my now needing a wig or something.) So far I am thoroughly enjoying the new shortness.It is now similar to Miss Moss' hair here, except I wear pants or a skirt whenever I have tights on.

Due to recent bursts of spring-like weather, and the emergence of daffodils (which, sadly, will meet an untimely end this weekend as the forecast calls for SNOW, SO lame), I am totally over winter and ready for the full conversion to Spring, the happiest of seasons. Although it is sad that Isaac Mizrahi has left Target, he has now moved to Liz Claiborne New York, and his spring collection makes me very happy.
Spring means that baseball is back, and this means the Lookouts!! Only 46 days til the opening game, on April 14, with the new roster, new coaches, and new Dodgers blue uniforms at BellSouth Park! I'm very excited.
I am also looking forward to the Nightfall summer concert series in Miller park, but that won't start until the end of May, so I can't think about it yet.
So many wonderful things about my city, but so many more once the weather gets pretty! Come see for yourself! I'd be happy to show you around, and take you to some of the fabulous eateries around town.

Happy weekend!

Two posts in a matter of minutes!

2009-02-20T08:01:00.000-08:00

Just read Michael Gerson's most recent column at www.washingtonpost.com and I had to post part of it because it's great:

"...There is a parallel debate about the influence of economic hard times on the nation's moral health. Without question, the most acute social problems -- crime, illegitimacy, etc. -- are concentrated in areas of highest poverty. But sociologists and criminologists have long pondered an apparent paradox. During the Great Depression -- with about a quarter of Americans out of work -- crime and divorce declined. During the relative prosperity of the 1960s and 1970s, crime rates shot up and families broke down.

Recessions and depressions are brutal beasts that stalk the stragglers, especially retirees and the poor. There is too much inherent suffering during a recession to ever welcome it. But times of economic stress, it appears, can also be times of cultural renewal. 'One reasonable hypothesis,' argues James Q. Wilson, 'is that the Depression pulled families together, and this cohesion inhibited crime.'

Many Americans who struggled through the Depression adopted a set of moral and economic habits such as thrift, family commitment, savings and modest consumption that lasted through their lifetimes -- and that have decayed in our own. The Depression generation controlled the things it could control -- including its own consumption and character."

I think it's safe to say that the people who have been least affected by the current economic situation - with the exception of the people who've unfortunately lost their jobs - are the ones who still operate under similar principles perpetuated by the Depression generation. Something to consider, aren't these the people often called "the greatest generation"?

The Friday Morning Post

2009-02-20T07:16:00.000-08:00

Kind of makes it sound like I have my own newspaper...

Yes, it's Friday, and yet again I have neglected to post until today. I know, I've been a blog slacker this week, and it's not even like I have that much going on. I just haven't felt inspired. And since some people openly complain when my posts aren't, shall we say, riveting (yes, Chase, I'm talking to you), I shy away from posting unless I'm really feeling eloquent. But today I'm just going to go for it.

Commune Reunion 2k9 v.1 this weekend! For those of you out of the know, that means Tapley (Fain), Krisan, Krisha, Claire and Lucy are all coming to Chattanooga! It is very exciting. Since we are all now scattered across the country (well, mainly the southeast, except Claire, who as an outlier in Houston makes it possible to use the phrase "across the country") it is much harder to reunite than say, when we lived in the same apartment or dorm. Lucy, since she is but a child, has not yet formally been inducted into the society, but is currently a pledge. Once she is able to talk, she'll become a full-fledged (or delta, ha) member.

Francis the cat spent an evening being mystified and horrified as a process went on in my apartment he has not really experienced before - thorough cleaning. Since Lucy the baby now crawls, I felt compelled to make sure the floors she might crawl upon were as clean as possible. I now know that Francis is NOT a fan of vacuums, but that his sprinting capabilities have not diminished. I also know that he IS a fan of pinesol, and were it not for my watchful eye, he would be like Mischa Barton in the Sixth Sense. Even after I hid the bucket in the bathtub, he was not tricked. He almost hopped in face first, but due to a swift grab by self, he hopefully remained unpoisoned. He was also angry because he can no longer hang out in my closet as it is full of things now (There is one extremely tiny closet in my extremely tiny apartment - don't judge it's packed-ness.)

Our plans are loose for the weekend, but one place I can guarantee we will be visiting is Mercatino. It is so fabulous for so many reasons, one being the very hip european bistro vibe and decor. They have great paninis and salads, as well as beautiful, made-from-scratch pastries and candies, and gelatto. The coffee at Mercatino is the best coffee I've had (mochas especially). However, the best thing of all are pastry chef Dane's belgian waffles. Omg. These huge waffles are light and fluffy, with a hint of cinnamon in the batter. When ordered topped with nutella, along with maple syrup, it just can't be beat. Not to mention the fact that a giant waffle with nutella and syrup is only $3.50! You could get a really gross breakfast somewhere else for that. OR you could go to Mercatino because it's terrific! (No, they're not paying me, but if they want to that's fine...)

Ok. That's about all I've got today. Is it lunchtime yet?

Friday the 13th, or, Valentine Eve!

2009-02-13T09:18:00.000-08:00

Ah, Valentines day. For a pretty insignificant holiday, this one is awfully controversial. I try to be like Kirsten from the OC, who loves Valentines day and all it connotes, and that is pretty easy when you're dating someone (or married, I suppose I should throw that in there since like half of ya'll are by now.) The pretty pink tulips currently sitting on my desk are a testament to this fact. (My valentine is a good one.)

On the first floor of the newspaper building, BiLo has set up a "Valentine Shop" for people who work here (read: men) who forgot it was Valentines weekend and haven't gotten their significant others a gift. In addition to ridiculous balloons and stuffed animals (really? I'm an adult. I have no interest in a stuffed animal. What on earth is up with that? Like people need more useless crap to sit around in their houses? Rant over), there are a couple tables full of bouquets of flowers (now, talk about a great gift for a girl. Take my word for it, guys. Flowers are always appreciated.)

Seeing this took me back to high school. For those of you who don't know (weird...), I went to an all-girls high school. For the first few years I was there, Valentines day was pretty much crazy. The commons area, which is a huge open space, big enough for like 400 people to stand around, would fill with folding tables. These tables were there for the sole purpose of accommodating the literal thousands of bouquets that arrived at the school at a rate something akin to rainfall during a monsoon all day long. By lunchtime, the room would be covered in blossoms of every type and color, enormous bouquets of long stem roses, cute little nosegays of yellow daisies, fluffy poofs of peonies. Row after row of folding tables crowded with vases of every shape and size - it was like a florist's Valhalla.

The thing was, out of these thousands of bouquets, how sad if not a single one was for you? My nice mom always sent me something, so I wasn't one of these unfortunate few, but at a girls school, you can imagine the sting. So eventually the school banned floral deliveries on Valentines Day. While it makes sense in the emotional, non-competitive scheme of things, I was always kind of sad not to see the commons filled with flowers once a year. The carnations the Honor Council sold quickly filled the role of making people feel bad for not being in a relationship or having thoughtful parents, as they would stick them to your locker, and it was even more clear who got flowers and who didn't. Ah, girls.

I conclude with a flashback from the old-school (read: sophomore year) days of Livejournal. Hopefully, it will make everyone chuckle. My, how some things have changed...

"Everyone has begun receiving their pink and red gifts. Ben [finally] gave Krisan pink and red daisies, tap made walker some pink and red cookies, and Krisha has a couple of pink and red cards sitting on the ol’ desk. I’m sure that tonight’s slew of dinner dates for the roomies will fill our room with even more lovely flora. I have had one request to be someone’s valentine today, and it was immediately followed by a demand for cookies, which definitely weakens the validity of the first request. Never fear, however, my mom sent me a package…

Claire, with whom I would most likely ordinarily be spending my valentines evening, as I do every evening, pretty much has the flu and has been asleep all day, except when she went to the doctor. I am not sure what to do in this situation, but suspect that it will involve me studying for Wednesday’s geology test and going to sleep early tonight.

I see some positives in not having a valentine, however.
1) I do not have the responsibility of buying/creating an incredibly imaginative and thoughtful v-day gift for a significant other
2) One of the football players in geology lab today informed us that his “girl” had her baby this morning. (Note: he was in geology lab this afternoon.) This will also not be a problem for me.
3) less chocolate given to me = less chocolate consumed, and conversely, less chocolate consumed = me still fitting normally into my formal dress this weekend, and that is always good.

I suspect my English teacher of trying to be clever by making us read Wordsworth for homework last night. Coincidence that we start the unit on romantic poetry on valentines day? I think not. I have previously mentioned my dislike for poetry of pretty much any sort. E.e. cummings is the only one worth anything. But romantic poetry is the worst. Ick. And I used to think Dr. Himmelwright was pretty normal…

Claire saw someone [male] walking around campus wearing very large slippers that were modeled after bananas [the fruit, yes.] This is made better by the fact that we think it is someone we know, and therefore might have the opportunity of ridiculing later.

“My name is cupid valentino
The modern day cupid
And i just wanna say one thing

Happy Valentines Day (Everyday's the 14th)
I don't think yall heard me,
I just wanna say
Happy Valentines Day (Everyday's the 14th)
Can you all dig that

Now, when arrows don't penetrate see,
Cupid Cracks the Pistol
Ah, yeah, now, now looka here
He shoots straight for your heart
Now,(And he won't miss you)” – Outkast

*more evidence that cupid is employed by the Devil himself; blatant violence, he is a felon. Watch out for him."

If everybody was jumping off a cliff, would you do it too?

2009-02-04T07:58:00.001-08:00

Apparently.

25 Things About Me. I have been tagged, and feel that I should comply.

1. In third grade, we were asked to draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up. I drew Sandra Day O'Connor, as I planned to be a Supreme Court Justice.

2. I hate red roses because they are so cliche.

3. I have a somewhat uncanny auditory memory. There is no telling how many movies, songs, and Gilmore Girls episodes I could quote almost entirely if I tried.

4. I am really bad at conversing with children. The third graders I taught last year quickly learned that the only story I could tell at lunch was the one about the lady whose son stole a baby penguin at the Georgia Aquarium. They learned to simply ask for "your story about the penguin."

5. One of the few times I distinctly remember getting in trouble as a child was for eating pop rocks on the couch. I had previously been instructed not to do so.

6. As a child, after discovering a drafting table in my grandparents' basement, I spent long hours drawing detailed sketches of various dinosaurs, in hopes that they would be sought after due to my skilled artistry and published in the newspaper. I don't know why I thought drawings of dinosaurs were something the Dayton Herald would be interested in.

7. One of my current favorite foods is the waffle at Mercatino with nutella and syrup. Omg. So amazing.

8. I almost never purchase clothing with a pattern, other than stripes. I really like solid colors.

9. I currently have 44 post-it notes stuck to my desk with assorted messages on them.

10. When I was about five, my stepmother gave me a B-52s tape, because I LOVED it. My mother took it away, and then gave me a boxed set of the B-52s Greatest Hits when I was a junior in college as recompense.

11. I sometimes justify expensive purchases in this way: Hmm, this shirt is $75. Would I pay $7.50 each time to wear it ten times? ...probably. Then it's a fair purchase.

12. The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. I like summer, I like America, and I like fireworks. Perfect.

13. When we were about 2, my cousin Corey was climbing on a rocking chair. I warned him against it, and then said "Corey, if you fall out of that rocking chair, don't you come crying to me." This anecdote of compassion is a classic in our family.

14. I don't really think Seinfeld is funny.

15. I do, however, find The Simpsons hysterical. Especially the Lord of the Flies one. "I ated the purple ones. They taste like burning."

16. I pretty much hate rap music but I would love to meet Snoop Dog, because that guy is just cool.

17. I still know all the words to "One Week" by Barenaked Ladies because Maggie and I printed off the lyrics so that we could memorize the fast parts.

18. I find "Legally Blonde" inspirational.

19. When I was four, I wept while watching George Bush, Sr.'s inauguration, because I wanted Ronald Reagan to be the president forever. My mother's explanation of term limits did nothing to console me.

20. I once wrote a three page essay on a final exam in Dr. Israel's Reconstruction to the New Deal class about a book I've never read and received full credit. I can make stuff up with the best of them.

21. When I lived in Atlanta, I bought more stuff at the Junior League Nearly New store than any other retail venue. And that includes J.Crew. It is awesome what rich people throw away.

22. I, as Ellie Lee is rumored to have done, attempted to walk my first cat, Chester, on a leash. Two leashes, actually, because I thought perhaps the problem lay in the first leash itself. Turns out, cats really hate walking on leashes. Or rather, slinking along the ground while tethered.

23. My favorite date so far has been the Chattanooga Symphony & Opera 75th Anniversary concert followed by a very late dinner at Porter's. Ideal.

24. In middle school (and maybe high school...) I had a very serious crush on Pete Sampras, and there were like 25 pictures of him in my room.

25. Quentin Groves (only Auburn folk will recognize that one) used to play with my hair in Geology lab. I was too intimidated by him to ask him to quit because it freaked me out.

"Ooh we ooh, I look just like Buddy Holly..."

2009-02-03T11:49:00.000-08:00

So this morning on the way to work, I heard on Morning Edition that today was the fiftieth anniversary of Buddy Holly's death. You know, he sang "Peggy Sue" and "That'll Be the Day" and "Every day" ("...it's a-getting closer, goin' faster than a roller coaster, love like yours will-a surely come m-y-y way, a-hey, a-hey hey...")You always hear about Buddy Holly, especially if you're a big Weezer fan, and perhaps you have wondered, like myself, why he is so well-remembered, all these many years later. After all, my research tells me that he only released one album while he was alive, but after his death his label could barely keep up with the demand for posthumous recordings. So, here's my brief explanation of Buddy Holly. If you know more about him than me, feel free to add.

He was only 22 years old on what Don McLean immortalized as "the day the music died" in February 1959. He had a wife he'd only been married to for like, six months. Charles Hardin Holley had grown up listening to, and playing, bluegrass in Lubbock, Texas. He was also heavily influenced by another great, Elvis Presley. Now, if you've read "The Little Book," (Ali, this means you, because I know no one else has)you know that a lot of people had never heard the kind of 'rock-a-billy' style music Buddy Holly came up with, and if you think about the music that preceded the fifties (I'm thinking "Swing, Swing, Swing," or pretty much anything people were doing the pretzel to in the 40's), something like "That'll be the Day" would sound pretty fresh.

People loved it. Bob Dylan considered making eye contact with Holly at a 1959 concert such a formative experience that he talked about it in a Grammy acceptance speech almost 40 years later. The Beatles supposedly chose their insect-ish band name with Buddy Holly and The Crickets in mind, after being significantly influenced by Holly's music - as were the Rolling Stones. Particularly, apparently, the rhythm structure. He also had a unique style of singing, involving a "hiccup" stop that he used to emphasize words (please see the quote from "Every day" above for brilliant phonetic examples.)

That is a very brief synopsis of a very important musician, but I have lots of other things I am supposed to be writing. For those of you who are curious, or for those of you who were in me and Amanda Youell's art class in eighth grade and still remember all the lyrics thanks to us, I close with a link to an article attempting to decipher "American Pie."

(Sing along...)

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn't take one more step.

I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
"this'll be the day that I die."

Wet paint

2009-01-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

Please click on this link, and enjoy. Before you do, make sure you have some free time ahead of you.

Paint me a Birmingham

2009-01-26T06:03:00.000-08:00

As intoned by the title, I spent the weekend in the Magic City. (Why is Birmingham, of all cities, "the magic city?" I mean, granted, it is a nice city. But magical? That seems like a stretch.) It's so fun to be in a place where so many friends from college are all constantly around.

Friday evening, after my arrival, Tapley, Dobbs, David, Brad and myself went to Sol Azteca, a popular hangout for Auburn people in Bham, as evidenced by the vast amount of Auburn alumni we saw while dining there. We then went to check out David, Brad, and Chase's new house, which is very neat, with lots of windows and a very creepy basement. David's room has a full wall of mirrors, like a dance studio, and Chase's features a four wall mural illustrating Dr. Seuss' One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. Both of these upgrades were inherent to the rooms upon arrival. Feeling that his seemingly normal room was lacking in fancy features like these, Brad installed a very large mounted deer head which stares with it's shiny glass eyes directly at his bed. When questioned about whether or not this creeped him out, Brad insists that the positioning on the wall was intentional, and that the deer "watches over him." And the She-trout (a human-sized, trout-shaped pillow.)

We were soon joined there by Walker, just in from a business trip in Jackson (yeah, we're grown-ups now. Or at least he is.) Chase, just in from a long day taking care of the infirm at the hospital, and Reed, just in from cooking some deer meat on his green egg. Reed regaled us with many amusing tales, as only Reed can do, including the tale of the time he may or may not have impersonated an officer. I would attempt to retell it here, but only he can tell it the right way.

He also shared that the deer meat he had recently cooked left a little to be desired, and so he did not want it for himself. However, he had decided he wanted to take some to the homeless of Birmingham in an act of generosity. We thought he was probably joking, until we realized that he had already bagged the meat individually and it was waiting in his truck. Deciding this was something we did not want to miss, Dobbs and I joined Reed and David on their mission. Not moments after we arrived downtown, we came across a man who looked down on his luck. David asked if he was hungry, and the man said yes, and was handed a bag of food. He asked if we had some water also, which we did not, and we all felt extremely bad that we couldn't help him with his thirst. After actually seeing someone in real need, the task lost any amusement factor it may have had, and I think everyone hoped we would be able to help a few more hungry people like the man we'd just seen. To the credit of Birmingham and I suppose their homeless shelters, we only ran across three more homeless people in the downtown district, all of whom said they were not hungry. We then wished we had given the first man more food.

At this point, a disappointed Reed (who had hoped to share his wealth of food with many, and still had several bags left) saw some [clearly not homeless] bar-goers crossing a street, and queried a young man decked out in necklaces, rings, and one of those hats with the flat bill and the sticker on it, whether he and his two [very dolled-up] lady friends might be hungry. "Huh?" said the young man, and Reed clarified "would you like some cooked deer meat?" The young man, clearly insulted, replied "man, do we LOOK like we hungry for some COOKED DEER MEAT??" Reed, nonplused, said "well I thought so, but I guess not," and drove away. We then went to an establishment in possibly Mountain Brook [?] and then returned home. I will include some photos despite how amazingly unflattering they are of yours truly.

Me and Dobbs

David and Myself

Self, Dobbs, Reed, and Kacey Eoff

Saturday, Tap and I enjoyed a lazy day of television and perhaps a little shopping, then a pleasant evening of pizza and the Miss America pageant (alternated with the Senior Bowl, to help the males not feel bad for watching the pageant) along with Walker, Dobbs, David, Brad, and Will and Jana Flinkow. It was a nice college flash-back, although Claire, Krisha, and Krisan were notably missing in the Commune line-up. Sunday was church and of course CSI: Miami, which Tapley thankfully tivos, and on to Atlanta where Jason made pizzas from scratch! After such an eventful, college-esque weekend, it's tricky to come back to the real world, although I am attempting by tallying up timesheets.

Under the wire

2009-01-23T13:24:00.000-08:00

Just realized that I haven't written yet this week, nearly breaking one of my most-kept new year resolutions!

First, let me say that I am currently listening to the third person today walking down the hall whistling circus music. Weird. Where were they when all the craziness was going on last week?

Second, let me say that the t-shirt at bustedtees.com that has a picture of the earth sweating and says "this is why i'm hot" is hilarious. As is the one that has an outline of the country Syria and says "why so Syria?"

Third, Oscars people, come on, get serious. I love Scott Fitzgerald more than many, and was super excited that "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was being made into a film. But...it wasn't good. It was depressing. And about 45 minutes too long. Brad and Cate, awesome as they may be (Cate especially, she's fantastic), had zero chemistry. There was no development of the love story, and it felt completely flat. And Brad gets a best actor nomination? He had like 7 lines total, most of which were along the lines of "I'm Freezing." Keanu Reeves could do that.

Fourth, Lookouts baseball is only 80 days away!! The Lookouts are rarely actually good, but going to their games is one of my favorite things about Chattanooga. Also, baseball beginning means adios to winter, a farewell I am definitely ready for.

Ok, that's all I've got. Lamest post ever, apologies! I'll do better next week. Now, on to Birmingham!! If you're there, call me. I'd like to see as many of you as possible!!

Don't judge me...

2009-01-16T12:11:00.001-08:00

Professional model cum fashion editor for the magazine, Kim, was just here. In addition to being gorgeous, she is also an extremely nice person, so it is always fun when she stops by to bestow some of her niceness and glamour on us. She was wearing an enormous fur coat, and although I have never in my life had any interest in anything made of fur, she looked so classy and Russian and warm that I had a real Gollum moment ("we wants it, the precious! gollum, gollum...") I think that this sudden interest in pelts probably had a lot to do with the fact that it "feels like 13 degrees" in Chattanooga, according to weather.com, so there you have it. One more reason why winter needs to move on; it encourages poaching.

This day was bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s

2009-01-15T13:37:00.000-08:00

This post is where I'm hiding while the calendar events I'm supposed to be writing look for me. They were making me batty so I had to have a break from them.

So, yesterday was the craziest day ever.

It was recently (read: two days ago) decided that I should be the one arranging and coordinating all the photo shoots for this issue, and those shoots had to happen this week. Now, I am not good with logistics. I mean, logic games are the reason I didn't ace the LSAT. You know, "Joanie can sit by Peter, but she can't sit by Marshall. Marshall can sit by Tina, Belinda or Chris. Chris can't sit by someone in an orange sweater. George is a martian. Louise can only sit in between two girls. Joyce doesn't give a crap where she sits as long as she's in a chair. What order are they sitting in on the church pew?" Given my non-penchant for these things, the arranging of all the photo shoots, which was eerily similar to those games, was zero fun.

So yesterday, I come in and immediately start making calls and directing subjects and photographers places. I also have a [virtual, via email] stack of pieces to edit. I am also supposed to write the calendar and finish writing some short pieces. As I am doing all these things, an "old-time" musician is playing his banjo in the photo studio next door. I decided we should always have live music in the office.

It's getting close to lunch time, we're all slammed with stuff to do, so the boss says "order three pizzas," which I do. Shortly after pizzas are ordered, photographer arrives to set up his equipment. We decide to use the conference room because it's got some cool exposed brick that would be a nice background, and wood floors. So the photographer and I herd all 20 of the rolling chairs into a corner, shove the giant conference table against the wall, and take down all of the newspaper pages that are hung as decoration because they're in the shot.

It is then that I realize that I failed to ask the person in charge of booking the conference room if anyone will be using it for conferences that afternoon. Yikes. My phone rings telling me to come collect my model in the lobby downstairs. I had originally asked her to be on the cover, but for business-y reasons, the boss had to put someone else there, so I was going to have to break this news to her (she was very nice about it.)

I trot down the hall and stop to ask about the conference room, which fortunately, was not booked by anyone else. I escort my model, who is a yoga instructor, to the photographer, then receive a call saying the pizza has arrived, so I go back downstairs and fetch it. My boss and I drag a table into the hall and set the pizzas out on it,prompting the IT director to say "Ken's having a pizza party!"

I begin some more editing, when the photographer finishes with the yoga girl, whom I have to interview. So she and I sit down at my desk and she starts telling me all this stuff about yoga, and as she's educating me on the spiritual benefits of meditation, someone starts playing a saxophone in the photo studio next door. So she and I are semi-listening, semi-interviewing, when the other person who is now on the cover shows up and asks where her photo shoot is. She is a "fitness coach" and very...fit. And well-acquainted with the tanning bed. And the nail salon. And feathered hair. And low necklines. And pink lipgloss. Her arrival was very awkward, as the yoga girl is sitting right there, taking it all in. I show them where to go, apologize profusely to cute yoga girl and get back to the interview.

The boss then comes out to see what's going on, given the amount of noise and craziness due to saxophones, models, ad people, photographers, etc. in the hall. I introduce him to yoga girl, and he tells her a long story about how one of his best friends is in the royal family of Hawaii, and if the royals hadn't abdicated, he'd be King, so they call him King. The King used to hang glide with boss, but now does yoga instead, which the boss is baffled by. Yoga girl was amused by his tale and offered him a free yoga class, which I told him he should accept and write about. Meanwhile the creative director and the editor are walking around looking for each other and eating pizza, and talking to the graphics guys. Then the cartoonist comes up to pick up his check while I'm trying to finish the interview with yoga girl, who says "Wow! This is what I always imagined a newsroom to be like!"

I said "I promise this has never happened before." And now I have to go finish the calendar.

Chris Thile, you know you want to talk to me

2009-01-08T12:34:00.000-08:00

This is just a brief post in effort to get my courage up to call his fancy publicist in New York ("New York City!!" to quote the old salsa commercials.) You see, Chris and his [relatively] new band the Punch Brothers are coming to Chattanooga on March 30. Given the fact that Chattanooga is (as previously mentioned in conversation with Ali) practically synonymous with the mandolin (as practically as a city can be synonymous with a stringed instrument), I think that an article about Chris and the band would be perfect as a "culture" piece for the magazine for March (right? plus, I really want to meet him.) They will be in Birmingham on January 31, so my plan is that I could go down there and do the interview, Jason could take some pictures and bond with Chris and the band re: musical instruments, then we are best friends with them and hang out all the time. Perfecto. But first I have to call the scary publicist and see if she'll grant me an audience with the wizard.

To Russia, with love

2009-01-07T06:28:00.000-08:00

Russia. That cold eastern giant, looming like a grey cloud above Europe, covered in ice and drifting snow and men wearing really furry hats. What I'd like to know is, what's their problem? In my opinion, it is lame of them to pick on little Ukraine.

From what I can tell through my vast research, Russia is ginormous. As a matter of fact, Russia is 16,995,800 square kilometers in size, with a population of almost 150 million people. In comparison, the Ukraine is about 600,000 square kilometers, with a population of barely 46 million people. (Please ignore the metric measurements, I don't know how to convert. Focus on the numbers, Russia is way bigger.)

Over the past ten years, Russia has charged Ukraine and some other small eastern European countries a subsidized amount for the gas that fuels and heats their societies, of which Russia has vast reservoirs. In the last couple of years, Russia has begun demanding that the small countries pay a market price instead of a subsidized price for the fuel. Now, I am all about market economics, but Ukraine paid $179.50 per thousand cubic meters of fuel last year, and now Russia demands $450 per tcm for 2009. If my calculations are correct (I admit, you may want to check them yourself),that's an increase of more than 150 % in one year. Call me crazy, but that's just crazy.

Ukraine is currently in the worst recession they've seen in a decade, which probably isn't saying a lot considering they're a former Soviet-bloc country. However, the LGR (looming global recession) has severely reduced demand for their two major exports, steel and chemicals. Clearly, this hasn't helped their economic situation. Huge sectors of the population are unemployed, and the Ukranian currency lost half its value in December (read: that is bad.) They took out a $4.5 billion loan from the International Monetary Fund in November to combat that particular problem. The trick with IMF loans is that they come with a lot of conditions, not the least of which are a requirement for a deficit free budget(read: no debts.)

All this to say that it appears that they simply can't afford to pay $270 more per tcm for fuel. To do this, they would either have to create a budget deficit (which they aren't supposed to do) or cut a lot of social programs, which the unemployed and struggling population would really not appreciate. So they said "we just can't afford it." Russia's reaction to this situation? Turn off the gas. In eastern Europe, in the winter. Real classy guys.

But now it appears that they are stepping the bullying up to a new level. Gas has stopped flowing all across Europe, even in France, Germany, and Italy. The larger countries have reserves of fuel, but smaller countries like poor little Bulgaria are declaring a state of emergency, shutting down factories, with whole neighborhoods going unheated. It's freakin' cold in Bulgaria! Not cool, Russia! AND to top it off, they're blaming Ukraine! They're telling the world that the Ukrainians are siphoning off gas for their own use and keeping it from Europe. The Ukranians are trying to pass on some of their reserves to the rest of Europe to help, but let's remember their tiny size and dwindling economy.

I guess it's possible that the Ukranians are lying, that they just don't want to pay for gas, and that they really are stealing fuel from the rest of Europe for their own benefit. But really, who's believing Russia? They've been bullying people around (remember good old Joe Stalin?) for hundreds of years. I don't trust 'em any further than I could throw them, and considering I haven't started pilates yet, that's not far.

Happy new year!

2009-01-02T11:00:00.000-08:00

Well, it's 2009. Although I will probably break these resolutions before I learn to remember to write "2009" instead of "2008" when I'm writing the date down, here are my resolutions for the year:

1. Try to at least get some exercise.

How? I have purchased a set of pilates classes. Having run into a girl I went to high school with over the break, and marveled at the fact that she looks like an entirely different person due to her current training to be a pilates instructor, I decided that perhaps this would be something helpful to try. Supposedly it's what all the models do, and supposedly it makes you "longer and leaner," two adjectives I am certainly interested in, particularly the "longer" part. Next time you see me I might be like six feet tall. Also it's supposed to be kind of fun, and I am hoping that the fact that I paid for the classes and that someone besides me will notice if I don't show up will provide motivation.

2. Try to pay attention to a somewhat balanced diet.

How? I have already begun attempting to attend to the recommended dietary business by having a V8. I know, I know, Claire has already lambasted the gross-ness of my new vegetable source. Call me crazy, but I happen to like the stuff. Plus, it's like more than half of my daily vegetable requirement, which I think is impressive.

3. Try not to neglect my poor, pitiful savings account.

How? My stepdad helped me figure out a reasonable amount to deduct from my paycheck automatically each week, and hopefully I can stick to it! So far, so good. Given the fact that all the money I am forced to put into Social Security is going to be looong gone by the time I might need it, I think it's important to build some savings. One time this financial lady came to GPS and showed us how if we saved like $2,000 a year starting when we were like 21, we could have a million dollars by the time we were sixty, or something. I don't remember exactly, but I do remember the point was that the earlier you start, the better, even if you don't put a lot in at first.

4. Be better at calling people back

How? Although I still hate voicemails, I will attempt to respond to missed calls in a timely manner. Argh.

5. Write more often

How? Will attempt to post at a weekly minimum. This might be the trickiest one to stick to.

And that's it, the five resolutions of '09. I'll report back on progress, which perhaps will make it easier to meet resolution number five. Happy 2009!

Sufjan Stevens and I wish you a merry Christmas

2008-12-18T07:20:00.000-08:00

Uno, dos, tres, quatro

Tie up your boots
Jump off the ladder
Pack up your clothes
Nothing's the matter
Mistletoe hangs
Up in the bedroom
Your sister's bangs
She cut them herself

Santa is here
Sleighbells are ringing
Twenty-one elves
They are all singing
K-Mart is closed
So is the bakery
Everyone's at home
Watching TV

Santa Claus is coming
Hear the banjo strumming
Santa Claus is coming
Hear the banjo strumming

Chestnuts and fire
Holly and hay
Jesus and Mary
What a great day

Evergreen tree
Covered in snow
Tower of Babel
Tower of glow
There's Aunt Marie
And Uncle Bob
They give us good gifts
Like mittens and socks
Hijack a snow plow
Clear out the streets
Tell all of the neighbors
There's cookies to eat

Off the floor and give a shout
There's a lot to shout about
Santa Claus is coming to town
He's got the greatest gifts around

Away in a manger
No crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus
Laid down his sweet head
The stars in the bright sky
Looked down where he lay
The little Lord Jesus
Asleep on the hay...

-excerpted from Sufjan's song, "Come on, Let's Boogey to the Elf Dance"

Apologies, and Italy.

2008-12-09T11:17:00.000-08:00

Apologies to whomever reads this blog on occasion, for the terrible gaps in communication the blog experiences. Anyone who has ever left me a voicemail is familiar with the feeling. Again as we near the monthly deadline for the magazine, my creativity tends to be otherwise directed.

I'd say in every life, there are certain lengths of time or situations that seem like the technicolor parts of The Wizard of Oz, in that they stand out for being beyond the ordinary and kind of wistfully lovely. I was just looking at my water bottle (in effort to avoid looking at the photos in need of captions beside said bottle of Aqua Panna - which I of course buy because the packaging is so pretty.) This particular brand of water is apparently bottled at the source in Italy, which made me think of the trip I took there with some other GPS folk over spring break my senior year of high school. There are other things that remind me of that trip too, like gelatto, and John Mayer's album "Room for Squares" (there were a lot of long busrides. Ben Folds "Whatever and ever, amen" also reminds me of the trip - sorry Margaret, I still have your cd...) It was like a nine-day whirlwind tour of one of the most chock-full-of-stuff-to-see countries in the world, so I feel like everything was pretty jumbled, and it wasn't until afterward that I realized how cool it was.

Our travels began in Rome, and from there went to Florence, Venice, and Milan, with smaller and lesser known towns in between each. The first day, in addition to wanting to just lay down in some ancient, cobbled street and sleep due to jet lag, I remember being so thrown off by the fact that people in this great city go to work everyday, and they could look out their car windows or their offices and be like "oh, that's where Caesar was stabbed. Yeah, and that's the jail Paul was kept in." So much history, right there, smack in the center of a big, modern city, totally incredible. Particularly, I suppose, to an American, since most of the historical things in our cities don't date much further back than Paul Revere.

The last night we were in Rome, we went to a discotheque, which I'm sure Mrs. Pierce, the principal of the upper school and our chaperone, really enjoyed. It was somewhat intimidating to be in a crowded room, with Dido thumping through the strobe lights, surrounded by big guys with lots of necklaces speaking another language. (Especially if you hate Dido.) A guy in a black tanktop and a gold chain asked me to dance (or inferred the invitation by standing extremely close to me) and I mumbled something about my boyfriend and darted away.

Eventually I spotted the most J.Crew-looking guy in the room, wearing a button-up shirt and a pullover sweater, and I made my way towards him. Eager to practice his English, he asked me to dance (using words, a good sign.) As we danced (probably awkwardly, I have never claimed to be a good dancer, although it was a slow song) he asked me all the questions we learn in Spainish class, but he had of course learned them in English. "What sport do you like to play?" (I told him I ran, which he seemed pleased about. One question successfully asked and answered.) "Do you like basketball?" (I told him it was ok. He was more of a fan than I.) "Do you like Allen Iverson? My favorite player." (Interesting choice. I believe I mentioned Michael Jordan - again, not a big basketball fan.) "You like music?" (I did, as did he - kind of...) "You like Bob Marley?" (Seriously? Um, I guess. I like John Mayer. This was a point of confusion as we had exited his realm of English related topics.) This went on for a couple of songs, then it was time to extricate the bolder girls from a throng of Italian men and head back to the hotel.

Florence and Venice, unfortunately, are kind of a blur, although I took detailed and copious notes in my travel journal (as per my Grandmother's instructions) so it's all retrieveable. Those pigeons in the piazza are gross, and one of the reasons I hate birds. Our tour guide wore Dolce & Gabana 'Blue', and anytime I get a whiff of it now I think of her, tirelessly leading our group of chattering American high school girls through the streets of these beautiful old cities in the wake of her perfume, singing the Dixie Chicks' "Travelling Soldier" over and over and over again. What a patient lady.

The Doge's Palace was so beautiful, and I always think of it in reading the bit in The Pursuit of Love about how Fabrice's grandmother once rode past a small villa in a gondola, and stopped to look inside because it was so lovely. Once inside, she looked around at the pale blue platster walls and said "If there is a box with a key on a velvet ribbon in that drawer, then I own this house." There was. Some forgotten love of hers had given her the house long before. (Sidenote, I love Nancy Mitford. I am reading a book of the letters of the Mitford sisters right now, and it's so completely fascinating.)

By the time we got to Milan, our last stop, we were all exhausted from the rushed seeing and doing. Our first night there, an homesick and melancholy Margaret was drooping around the room. Mary Howard and I were unsure of how to cheer her up, and turned on the television, thinking perhaps Italian "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" would be on, or something equally amusing. Instead, the screen opened to a channel which was playing Lord of the Rings - in English. Margaret, at the time, was a huge fan, and we were all shocked (we hadn't seen television in English the whole time we'd been there) and immensely pleased, as Margaret was cheered immediately by Liv Tyler's glowing skin and pointy ears.

The next day, we went to visit a huge cathedral (these are copious in Italy, to say the least.) The inside I don't really remember, but I'm sure it was grand, etc. Our guide told us that if we wanted, we could go up the circular staircase in a turret to the roof. Well, sure. Upon exiting that staircase, Margaret was further cheered, because it was apparent that we were in Rivendell (I realize I just outed myself as a huge nerd...oh well. Probably not much of a shock.) Intricately carved stone covered every inch of the roof. There we stood, high above the city of Milan, surrounded by the work of stone masons hundreds of years ago. These were people who began carving their fleur-de-lis and curving arches with the full knowledge that they would never live to see the final product. And they dedicated their lives to this carving - on the roof. Not at the altar, or around the door, where everyone would see it, but on the roof, for God to look at and enjoy.

In addition to the beautiful carvings, photos of which hang in my living room to this day, Mary Howard and I noticed a man, who was one of the several people scattered across the top of the building. He was different than everyone else there as he was clearly not part of a tourist group. He was a handsome guy, Italian in features, probably about thirty. He was wearing a navy suit, a blue shirt, and a red and blue tie, and had a little shopping bag in his hand, and he was smiling contentedly to himself. Here was a guy, we presumed, maybe on his lunch break, who left the office, and came to the top of a cathedral to walk around by himself and enjoy the grandeur of the carvings and the view. It seemed like something in a book. Of course, we loved him and took several pictures. Little did he know that several American girls were not-so-subtly stalking him that day and still have his charming image in a photo album.

Anyhow, now that I've rambled for a while, those are a few of my techinicolor images from the past. Just thought I'd regale you with some tales, given my absence as of late, and considering how long this probably is, I'm sure I've made up for it.

Francis

2008-11-26T23:56:00.000-08:00

*Photos at the end, if you have already heard the tale of the cat.

Young Francis is a boy cat, and he is named in the tradition of Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (also known as F. Scott Fitzgerald) and Francis Scott Key (of "Star Spangled Banner" fame.) Francis just seemed to carry the attributes one would think a young cat named Francis would carry, so he was tagged with that name. Peter was also considered, but he just looked more like a Francis.

Well, as many of you know, I have wanted a kitten for a long time. Finally living in my own apartment, it seemed like this might be the year, but alas, Mr. Straussberger (landlord and father to Anna) said "no cats." I have continued to visit the cats at the McKamey Animal Shelter all year, and right now they are having a special - cat, including shots and vaccinations, neutering/spaying (respectively), and microchip on sale for $25. Deal, right? So then I found Francis, and he was charming and friendly, and likes to be held and rub his face on you, and purrs a lot. Also, he has long, very soft hairs and an extremely long and swishy black tail. Obvi, I wanted him.

Anna happened to be home on a vacation this week, and her parents had a gathering at their house Sunday night to which Jason and I were invited. I told Anna about Francis, and how we had to convince her dad to say yes, and so she worked her daughterly wiles on him, and I said "pleeease" and promised that Francis would only pee in his litter box. And so Mr. Straussberger relented! And thus, yesterday we went and picked him up! He sat quietly and patiently in his box all the way home in the car, and when we got him out, he didn't seem scared at all, just walked around a little bit. After a while, he seemed very comfortable and was all purring and climbing on everyone. However, last night he was so happy to be home that he did not sleep at all, I'm pretty sure, and spent the evening waking people up, climbing on their faces, and meowing. Hopefully this is not a habit he plans to continue as I must sleep sometimes. He had a somewhat rough day yesterday which culminated in his going to the Cat Clinic for grooming and treatment for the various illnesses and parasites he contracted while living at the shelter.

This is not going to become a blog about Francis, however, several have requested to see his photo, so the following are his introduction to the world!

Ahoy!

2008-11-18T10:43:00.000-08:00

*Let me begin with the caveat that, for the sake of finding it amusing, I am operating under the assumption that no one has been hurt in the situation I am about to discuss. If so, they haven't said it on npr, and they usually don't shy away from grim details.

This is the year 2008. There are men orbiting the earth in sophisticated space craft. People carry telephones the size of an index card that play music and use the internet to find them restaurants when they're stumped on dinner. A black man has been elected president of the United States. Warren Sapp, former NFL defensive tackle, is in the running to win Dancing with the Stars, and Kmart sells cashmere sweaters. The point being, this world has come a long way since, oh I don't know, the 1600's. And then, this morning, I wake up and while showering hear this on the news. Somali pirates have captured a Saudi Arabian oil tanker and are holding it for ransom.

Pirates.

As in "arrrghh, matey," "someone catch that crocodile!" "those *ing amateurs. you left your dog, you idiots!" and "I can’t bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy?" I actually heard someone on the radio say that the pirates had presumably attached ropes to the side of the vessel and swung aboard. "This is dangerous work but isn't particularly hard work for the pirates," reads the npr article regarding the situation.

Now, apparently the reason that people in Somalia have resorted to pirating has its roots in the fact that their government has been in turmoil for the last 25 or so years, and the economy there is completely unstable. That is very unfortunate, and I would love it if our foreign policy had more to do with helping people in countries like Somalia establish an infrastructure than certain other ventures.

That said, pirating apparently also has other draws. According to npr, once again, pirates say 'A woman won't even look at me unless I'm a pirate making a lot of money.' That's right, they're in it for the ladies. Johnny Depp's appeal has apparently spread beyond Claire to the entire rest of the world, including eastern Africa.

The New York Times actually conducted an interview with some of these pirates in September, and they offered further reasoning for their actions, presumably in addition to impressing their lady friends. “We don’t consider ourselves sea bandits...We consider sea bandits those who illegally fish in our seas and dump waste in our seas and carry weapons in our seas. We are simply patrolling our seas. Think of us like a coast guard.” So their pirating has an environmental and humanitarian aspect as well.

The news reports even offer the fact that the pirates are often unarmed...perhaps they use the traditional "or you'll walk the plank!" threat to keep the hostages compliant. Apparently the boats are mainly captured by the element of surprise.

Although, I suppose, hijacking a boat that doesn't belong to you and holding its sailors hostage is not the right thing to do, in a way I appreciate these fellas. In these days of doomsday economic news, and things falling down around our ears, it is nice to wake up and hear on the news that pirates are capturing frigates on the high seas, like it's 1700. Just hearing Robert Segal say "pirates" adds a whimsical note to the day, let's be honest.

Long live Captain Jack.

donde esta mi muse

2008-11-17T11:11:00.000-08:00

In the interest of looking busy during a lull, but lacking true inspiration, I present "Assorted thoughts, with Emily."

1. Why is there no J. Crew in Chattanooga? This question haunts me daily, although to my paycheck it is more like Casper, the friendly ghost.

2. Although I swore I would never patronize 'Fanta' after seeing one of those genuinely obnoxious commercials with the girls singing the 'wanna fanta' song, I have devised the perfect fountain beverage, and it unfortunately includes their product. 3/4ths glass of cherry fanta + 1/4th glass of coke = perfection.

3. While I still tip my hat to the architecture of yesteryear, I have a new appreciation for modern conveniences, such as central heat and air, after my experience thus far with baseboard heaters.

4. Without the pace-setting convenience of school breaks (and the helpful anticipation built up by Claire decorating the apartment for Christmas in October), it is easy for holidays, like the rapidly approaching Thanksgiving, to totally sneak up on you. Only last night did I realize that said holiday was in fact next week. My sad lack of vacation days smirks at me.

5. Will there be a new "Elf" this year? I don't mean like, a remake of a 5 year-old movie, but a solidly amusing, heart-warming, holiday themed film? In the tradition of the Grinch, Home Alone, and Muppets' Christmas Carol?

6. There is something completely great about living in a city where you can go to lunch at a downtown sandwich shop and run into people you know. I need at least ONE of you Auburn people to move here, though, please, so I can run into people from college too.

7. I predict snow this holiday season. Really.

8. Sigh. I used up all my creativeness this morning thinking of story ideas and covers for the magazine. I just couldn't end on an odd number. I apologize for the lameness of this entry. The next one will be better.

Let me tell you a story

2008-11-10T15:21:00.000-08:00

(while I wait on proofs to edit at work at 6:22 pm.)

This story is not about something that happened to me, although it did happen to my friend Ali, who some say is freakishly like me in many ways, so it is almost the same thing. I share this story with you because Ali does not keep a blog, and can only tell it via word of mouth, so I volunteered to present it here.

*A little back-story: Ali (is a genius and works for CNN and) lives in Washington, DC. She recently moved into a new apartment in the basement of a home, which is occupied by a family with two young daughters. Ali has mentioned these children to me in passing, and that she was enjoying being in close proximity to a family while not feeling obligated to continually interact with them. The other day, on gchat of course, she noted that she had "just taken some kids to the zoo," but for some reason this was left unexplained. Last night at my apartment (she is in town, yay!), I asked her about it, assuming that the kids she had taken to the zoo were those of the family she lives beneath. She reacted with surprise that she had neglected to tell me the whole story, and then shared the following tale, which I found amusing.

(Ali and Kevin)

Many days, Ali's work schedule is such that she meets her (also genius) boyfriend Kevin for lunch at some charming restaurant in one of DC's equally charming neighborhoods. The neighborhood where Ali lives happens to be the one where the National Zoo is. As she and Kevin stepped out of their lunch spot one day, two very clean and well-kempt young children approached them - a boy of about 10 and a girl of about seven. "Excuse me, ma'am," said the boy, "can you tell us where the Zoo is?"

Ali and Kevin looked around for adults belonging to the children, and realized there were none. Perhaps this was a "Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiller" kind-of thing, and these children had run away to spend some time at the Zoo - did their parents know where they were? "Yes." Maybe they were time travelers from back in the day, when parents felt completely comfortable sending their young children unaccompanied on the Metro into one of the largest, busiest cities in the country, with the instruction that they get off at the stop that said "Zoo" and ask someone how to get there.

Turns out, they were not time travelers, but apparently the quite cosmopolitan children of parents who are very optimistic about today's society, and they were looking for the Zoo. Ali felt apprehensive about sending them off into the city alone (an emotion their parents had, again, avoided), and so bid Kevin farewell and took off to walk the several blocks with the kids.

As they walked, she asked them whether they weren't meant to be in school. "No," they said, "it's Election Day, so we have the day off." They went on to tell her that they normally attended a Jewish private school in Maryland, and had decided to take in the Zoo while they had some spare time. "We had a fake election at school yesterday," they proceeded to tell her as they made their way down the street. "It was totally pointless though [*here I would like to note that I'm quoting them] because, come on, we're all Jews, and everybody knows that all Jews are Democrats, and we're all just going to vote the way our parents do anyway. So, Obama won in a landslide." Ali, surprised by both their political and cultural acumen, as well as their frankness, responded "What about Joe Lieberman?" "Ohh, he's no Democrat," the children responded disdainfully.

They continued on their way to the Zoo, chattering happily about their dog and their favorite cousin, of whom Ali reminded them. Ali also reminded them to look both ways and stick together as they crossed the street and reached their destination. They stood in front of the gates. Ali surveyed the sky above them, and said, "you know guys, I think it might rain, I have an umbrella I could give-" "No," they said pleasantly, "we don't mind. No big deal. Thanks for walking with us." "Um, sure, no problem, have a good time," Ali said, and watched them walk cheerfully into the National Zoo together.

As she walked home, Ali realized that in their approximately 20-minute walk, she had never gotten their names. "It was weird, we had just had this long conversation, I knew all about them and their school and pets, then they just left. I felt like I should have shaken their hands or gotten their cell phone numbers or something, but they were kids, so of course I hadn't. Very surreal."

And that is the story of how Ali took some kids to the Zoo.

Historically speaking...

2008-11-05T05:52:00.000-08:00

Regardless of who you voted for, this is a monumental day for our country. We should be proud of the fact that people finally got involved in the political process again, and we should be proud that over the last 50 years, we have been able to arrive at a point where a black man can be elected to the highest office in our country. David Gergen, CNN political analyst, quoted Dr. Martin Luther King last night. Dr. King, who gave his life for this future a day after saying these words, was looking forward to an America where all men were truly equal. He said:

"I just want to do God's will. He's allowed me to go up to the mountain and I've looked over and I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the Promised Land."

It's a shame that Dr. King was unable to see the triumph of his work last night in Chicago's Grant Park, but he would certainly be proud.

Other things that are good about this:

1. As Stephen Colbert noted, America should be happy about electing its first Hawaiian president.

2. Record-breaking voter turn-out, and celebrating Americans filling the streets to welcome their new president elect - welcome to the political process, America. Keep it up!

3. Bill Bennett, former Secretary of Education, noted on CNN last night (transcript unavailable at this time, so this is paraphrased:)'There is no longer a legitimate excuse to come from African Americans who claim that their race is an unmovable impediment to their success. In school, in the culture, in their lives. Senator Obama has proven that this is no longer viable.' Perhaps now we can ALL move into the "post-racial" era that Obama aspired to in his campaign.

4. Holograms on CNN...were they serious about that? "Help us, Obi Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope..." (The one of the capitol was pretty cool, though.) (also if I spelled that Star Wars guy's name wrong, think twice about what it says about you before you correct it.)

5. The whole world is excited about a new American president. I heard a recording on NPR of Chinese people shouting last night in unison, with their accents, "Yes we can!" Maybe people will quit talking about how America is a "crumbling empire." This country was not founded to be an "empire," it was founded to be great. As long as we hold to the tenets the nation was founded on, we will always continue to be great.

6. Senators McCain and Obama were as classy as they could be last night, which always helps heal factions.

7. Although I think his tax policy would be more apt to a certain former-Soviet, eastern European nation (I will say it once, Americans should not be punished for financial success by being forced to pay a greater percentage than other Americans for programs they most likely will not even utilize, like public education or social security. There, I said it. And I'm not talking about it anymore.) - it WILL be nice to have a president who can deliver a speech without a laughable gaffe in every other line.

So, go America, and now we can hopefully move on to other things besides politics.

Get out the Vote!

2008-11-04T06:09:00.000-08:00

It's Election Day!!! I love Election Day. Really, I love things that seem like big events, where everybody is doing something neat at the same time, like New Years Eve or Gameday. But Election Day is even better than all of those days because unlike most holidays, the actual partaking in the election isn't anti-climactic. The denouement doesn't happen until night-time (or a month later, as the case may be. please Florida, try to get it together this time.)

People often say that they don't feel like voting because, after all, "what's one vote?" And while I think P. Diddy might have taken it a little to the extreme by saying "VOTE OR DIE," I believe that thinking of an individual vote as worthless isn't right. Simplistically speaking, if every person was like "oh what does it matter, it's just one vote" and never stopped by the polling place on Election Day, there wouldn't be any votes.

It's true, America is not a direct democracy (which would mean that all the people of voting age in the whole country are required to vote on every single piece of legislation or appointment that occurs.) Instead, we are a republic (although a lot of Americans would probably answer incorrectly if you asked them this on the street.) For many reasons, we should be really, really glad about that. For one thing, if we were a direct democracy, no one would ever get any work done at work because we'd be voting or studying policy all the time. For another thing, there are an awful lot of ridiculous and uninformed voters out there who pick candidates based on how handsome they are, or how many movie stars are voting for them, or how funny they were on Saturday Night Live. Votes like that have to be tempered by the system (ours is called the Electoral College) and by the fact that most of the actual legislating that goes on is done by elected officials who voters have selected and trust to do the leg-work on figuring out the details. These people spend all their time working in Washington or various state capitols educating themselves (hopefully...) on policy, and legislation, and repercussions - and then they vote on it.

It is true, again, that many of our politicians seem sketch, and aren't exactly scholars. (Sigh. More people should be like Ron Paul. Whatever else you may say about him, that is a man of principle.) That is where it becomes up to us, as voters, to do our homework and pick the candidate we feel is most qualified, and best represents the ideals and tenets this country was founded on.

All too many times, unfortunately, it feels like we are forced to chose between the lesser of two evils as far as candidates go. I don't want to advocate a particular candidate here. My hope would be that you would take a look at the constitution of our country, and take a look at the federalist papers composed by our founding fathers as they were literally in the process of establishing this nation. Too often people scramble around in deep seas of policy and agendas, forgetting that there are guidebooks to navigating through all the mess. In voting, we need to go back to the roots of this country, the principles it was founded on, the freedoms our forefathers sought, and the rights each citizen is endowed with to shape and guide our decisions.

So, don't disregard your right to vote. No matter how small you feel like your voice is, you have a say in what goes on. Do your part, it's the only way you can earn the right to complain later. Go stand in line, cast your ballot, enjoy being a part of something bigger than yourself. Then put on your sticker and go to Starbucks for a free coffee.

Early start for the Christmas list...

2008-10-31T11:38:00.001-07:00

I saw this pretty, pretty light in the design*sponge guest blog at dominomag.com and I had to post it because I love it so much. Please note that in addition to being delightful to look at, it would also cast fun shadows all over your room, and it's real ART (there's one in the permanent collection at MoMA in New York, and Victoria and Albert in London.) Classy, pretty, and legitimate. My favorite things :)

Wall heaters are sketchy.

2008-10-28T20:33:00.000-07:00

Dear wall heaters,

Please don't catch on fire in the night. I hope no one has told you that I don't have a fire extinguisher and so you are now plotting against me before I go to bed. I was going to try and make it through the winter without you, but turns out it is already at the freezing point outside and it is pretty darn cold in here. Sarah Palin and her Russian neighbors might be cozy, but my digits are already starting to get frosty.

I said brrr it's cold in here...

Sincerely,

Emily

Tomato, tomahto...

2008-10-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

"The Enlightenment, with its emphasis on reason, would finally provide democracy with its philosophical underpinnings. The 17th and 18th centuries produced a wave of prominent thinkers espousing political systems based on what they called "the social contract." Government, they theorized, was a sort of legal agreement between the rulers and the ruled, the terms of which were binding on both parties. It was a groundbreaking theory. All they needed now was some country dumb enough to try it before the King found out and had them all drawn and quartered." - Jon Stewart's America: A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction

The social contract that Mr. Stewart's book speaks of is one of the fundamentals of our government. The differences in ideas between today's political parties are a result of varied interpretations of that "legal agreement" between the rulers and the ruled. In some elections, these ideological differences are quite clear, while in others (like the one to be held in a week's time) - not as much. As I am not John Adams, I cannot profess to be an authority on political discourse, but I try to base my opinions on fact (a basic concept, by the way, that many bankers and politicians should consider in their decision making processes.)

That said, there was a time when "conservative," believe it or not, did not mean 'God-fearing gun-toters' (not that those are bad people or anything - I learned to make this caveat from Barack Obama.) Rather, it meant people who were basically interested in a limited federal government (this means no creepy big-brotherness), personal responsibility, and an attention to (and scholarship of) the ideas our Founding Fathers hammered out in documents like, say, the Constitution, or the Federalist Papers. I once read a statement from Garrison Keillor regarding the Republican party, specifically, that expresses the point more eloquently:

"Something has gone wrong with the Republican Party. Once it was the party of pragmatic Main Street businessmen in steel-rimmed spectacles who decried profligacy and waste, were devoted to their communities, and supported the kind of prosperity that raises all ships. Now it's the number one reason why the rest of the world thinks we're deaf, dumb, and dangerous."

Senator McCain has found himself at the end of a campaign of almost Marx-brothers-esque heights in terms of ridiculousness. He garbles his ideas and speeches, he makes "erratic" shifts in attitude and policy, and he attempts "bold" moves to convince the public that he's a "maverick" (maybe he should have chosen Mel Gibson as his running mate), while trying to feign "conservatism" enough to convince the GOP that they didn't make a mistake in picking him as their candidate. Remember the old adage about "if you try to please all the people all the time you're likely not to please any of them any of the time?"

I feel like (again this is just my opinion, I don't claim to know everything) in his struggle to be the candidate for the conservatives, but at the same time be his "bi-partisan", maverick-y self, McCain's policy pronouncements have lost all tenor. The only way to attempt to gauge decisions he might make as president is not to listen to his campaign rhetoric, but to look at his record as a statesman. There, the only things we have to go on are the fact that he sided with George Bush the infamous 90 % of the time (which is part of how the party got where it is in the first place), and the reputation he has for being "bi-partisan," which seems to mean leftist (so much so that the GOP PAC was seriously considering not endorsing his candidacy less than a year ago.)

To me, this suggests that as a president, he would either exercise his populist ideals, which wouldn't do anybody any good, or he would try to make some nods to conservatives and rally behind some ideas that would be summarily rejected by a Congress that will be inevitably Democratic in majority. I'm getting to a point where I honestly don't feel like we'd be in a much different situation with either candidate. (For a better proposition of this suggestion, read Peter Wehner's article "The GOP's Road Back" online at the Washington Post.)

Some of you might be confused by this post. It isn't a plug for Obama. More it is an appeal to conservatives that perhaps a zen kind of attitude is in order next Tuesday. It seems inevitable. We could vote for a guy who has already begun throwing his hat in the Republican ring of fire Mr. Keillor alluded to, and in four years maybe an even worse Democratic candidate will be elected out of the desperation of an ashamed and exasperated nation (at least the candidate this ashamed and exasperated electorate is leaning towards seems to be a classy guy.)

Or, (if you don't live in Georgia - grrr) you could write Dr. Paul in on your ballot, make a statement, and call it a day. I'm just musing here.

Pedestrians

2008-10-27T11:41:00.001-07:00

It's true, this is my second post of the day. However, I feel that the experience warrants notice.

As noted in my first post of the day, I am usually in a bit of a hurry in the morning. Therefore, I rarely actually pack myself a lunch in the morning anymore (also I never go to the grocery store so there isn't really a lot to pack even if I had time.) Depending on how late I am in the morning (dictating how much time I give myself for lunch), I either go somewhere charming (-ish, Panera or super-charming, Mercatino) or somewhere fast (Wendy's; the faux-Chickfila sandwich is not bad.) Another time I will write about how desperately I wish we had a deli of some sort in our building like every other large business downtown.

Anyhow, given my lateness this a.m. I darted over to the Wendy's on Broad to get my chicken sandwich and coca cola classic. Upon arrival I found that joining me in my dart were every other person in town with a lunch break. As we are creeping forward in the line, these three girls who turned out to be employees come jogging through the back of the parking lot, towards the drive-up line. the line is moving, and two of them went around, but one was coming the other way, as though she was considering walking through the moving line of traffic, which was backing up almost into the street. She looked as though she was contemplating cutting in front of my [moving] car, but reconsidered. After she passed me, she turned and made a very angry face, and pointed at my car and discussed it with her friends. I then became concerned that they were plotting against me because I did not stop and allow her to cut in front of me.

I got up to the drive-up window and to my dismay, found that one of her friends was the girl who takes the orders over the crackly microphone and accepts payment. Then I got my order, fearing sabotage.

They gave me diet coke. Maybe it was an accident, but I ALWAYS drink regular coke, and that is what I ordered. How cruel, to give a regular coke drinker diet icky cancer-bubbles with their lunch. Fountain coke can make or break a meal, and EW.

This is just one more piece of evidence regarding the unusual breed of pedestrians in the Scenic City. Ken and I have discussed this before, and he compared our fair city to rural Montana strictly because of the lack of regard citizens here have for basic traffic laws. These people look at roads as one giant sidewalk. They cross when the hand is clearly red at an intersection, they cross in the middle of the road where there is clearly no cross-walk, they cross traffic. All the while, expecting motorists to stop for them and allow them to pass. If you don't stop, they glare angrily. I am fine with stopping for people on a crosswalk, or if it is their turn to cross a street. But jaywalking is against the rules of traffic, and you can get a ticket for it, not to mention get run over, so don't get mad at me for not aiding you in your crime!

And certainly don't take out your crime-driven rage on me by giving me diet coke when I ask for regular. That's just mean.

I don't wake up well.

2008-10-27T06:40:00.000-07:00

It is a fact, and there are no two ways about it. If there was some kind of competition in being bad at this very thing, I would totally win (especially now that Claire has a baby and has to get up when it is time because there are lives at stake.)

I set my alarm for 6:20. I do this not because I need to be up by 6:20, but because I like to be able to go back to bed after my alarm goes off. I like it so much that I allow myself FORTY extra minutes to lounge underneath my fluffy comforter. Before any of you lodge protests on this point, I acknowledge that it takes me forever to get ready, but I don't have to be at work til 8:30. It doesn't take me two hours. Regardless of this fact, and regardless of the fact that I never go back to sleep, I just lay there and listen to NPR, I still manage to get up later than I should. Every day. Today, I didn't make it to work until 9.

This, I'm afraid, says something awful about my willpower. Something has to change. Perhaps I should give in and turn on the creepy wall heaters in my apartment so I won't dread venturing out from under the covers so much. (If anyone knows someone who services these creepy wall heaters, please send them to 417 Tremont. I fear that if I turn them on my apartment will burn down.)

Part of the problem lies in the fact that my being late to work here doesn't really cause any big issues. I mean, it would if I was really late, but 15-30 minutes doesn't really disrupt anyone's flow that much. I always set my own alarm and rose accordingly in middle and high school, with the exception of a couple of days where I slept through the blasted thing. Maybe if they gave demerits for tardiness at the Chattanooga Times Free Press I would feel more compelled to peel back the covers.

Last year if I was late, there would be (in addition to the apoplectic fits the assistant principal would have gone into knowing the schedule of anyone in the school was off by more than 30 seconds) eight third graders sitting unattended in a classroom, half of them stroking out because things wouldn't be going they way they normally did and no one had given them their morningwork sheet, and if the schedule wasn't written on the board yet, they probably would have lost their minds. The other half would have been yelling and screaming and beating each other up.

The girls of course would have tried to take control of the situation, because in my experience there's nothing third grade girls like more than bossing someone around (it's the crux of each main game they play - "teacher", in which one child tells the others what to do; "house", in which two children tell the others what to do; and "fort", in which whoever is there first tells the other children in school what to do.) The boys would have resisted this, and the yelling and screaming would have ramped up until another teacher came in to see what on earth was going on. Clearly, my non-presence in the classroom would have been noticed, and a large problem. It only happened a couple times. (Atlanta traffic is a disaster...)

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the last time I was truly late here (I usually allow like 15 minutes leeway) I went in to apologize to Ken. His reaction? "Oh, are you late? I didn't notice. No problem."

While this laid-back attitude makes for a very pleasant work place, it incidentally does not serve as the true incentive I apparently need to get me out of bed before 7:45. I would love to be one of those people who gets up in time to like, actually fix my hair, not dress in a rush, and stop at Panera on the way to work for a muffin and a chai tea (conversely, I would also like to be one of those people who gets paid enough so that they don't feel bad about stopping every morning for a muffin and chai tea, but that's a different story.) I did that once and it was such a pleasant way to start the day.

I would say this should be my new years resolution, but I should really try and address it before then...it will be my late-October resolution.

It's Friday, so that of course means supermodels and Krispy Kream in the office.

2008-10-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

As I type, I can hear her in the photo studio down the hall commenting on photos as they are being taken [of herself]: "Oh that's really cute! I love that one!" Sigh. I should not be irritated by this girl, she is very pleasant and certainly quite pretty, but she is the third pleasant and quite pretty girl in here this morning, as we are doing shots for covers. And actually, she is not a supermodel as much as she is a regular model, but I am regardless pleased that there is not a mirror in front of my desk (although I cannot imagine why there would be, the corner here at the end of the hall would be a strange place for a mirror, it's not like I work at Versailles, or Conde' Nast.)

*Conde' Nast, by the way, is so fabulous I should talk just briefly about how besotted with their products I am. It began, of course, with my subscription to Vogue, back in the sixth grade. It has since proceeded to my additional, unwavering love for Domino, Vanity Fair, and Portfolio. I love magazines in general, and working for one only intensifies this love. If Conde' Nast, J. Crew, Apple, Ron Paul, and NPR ruled the world, this would be a beautiful thing.

Anyhow, the presence of models for the photo shoot resulted in our Creative Director bringing in pumpkin spice doughnuts (go to Krispy Kream right now and get one, you won't be sorry.) As they are models, they obvi did not eat the doughnuts, so I (not being a model) had a free and delightful breakfast. Thank you, modern standards of beauty.

My vanishing boss has vanished yet again, today for a longer period of time than normal. He mentioned something the other day about the CEO and the department heads doing something, so I suppose that is where he is. Sometimes I'm pretty sure he is in possession of an invisible suit or cloaking device of some kind that he puts on whenever he's about to walk out of his office. And by walk, I mean hover, because he is somehow able to proceed across the hardwood floors with no report (as in gunshot - oh how I also love "You've Got Mail," now that it's fall it's time to watch...) Inevitably, every time this happens, someone important is like "Do you know where Ken is?" and I, like a dope, am forced to respond "No, last I checked he was in his office. I don't know how he does this..." It would be fab if I kept his calendar, which I should probably look into.

After such a productive morning, I think I will go to lunch.

It's a hard knock life

2008-10-06T13:58:00.000-07:00

As I sat here at my desk, only moments ago, working on the City Events Calendar for the November/December issue of the magazine, I came across the fact that "Annie!" will be playing at Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Auditorium here in town on November 25. In reminiscing over my childhood memories ("We LOVE YOU Miss Hannigan...") of the classic musical (and by so doing, developing a clever lead,) I thought hey, isn't it convenient that this particular musical is coming to town right as we're circling this looming global recession (or LGR as it has affectionately become known around the office)...then I realized who it is that must be behind the LGR - TAPA 2008-09 Broadway series. They have clearly planned this entire economic crisis in order to cleverly draw the masses to see "Annie!" at Memorial Auditorium.

I mean, it's a classic tale of silver-lining optimism in the face of dark situations (orphanages! the great depression! people named "rooster"!) and it's always enjoyable, but in these days of shaky (read: historically repetitive?) economic and political landscapes, we could all use a reminder that "The Sun will come out tomorrow." But people these days, in this world of movies with huge exploding special effects and cynicism, people don't watch musicals anymore...so how to draw people out to the theater? And there you have it. An LGR so big it reminds people of the Great Depression, and homeless people are getting out their fedoras again, and the government is acting like a vast, supporting Daddy Warbucks, lending us $700 billion to pick ourselves up again. Thanks a lot, Tennessee broadway musical fans. Perhaps next year you'll make your intentions to go see the musicals clear sooner, and we won't run into these kinds of problems again. If Americans will just renew their interest in musical theater, the Ghosts of Gilbert and Sullivan would stop sneaking into the Wall Street investment banks and haunting around, whispering bad ideas about risk and derivitives into greedy bankers' ears. Problem solved, Mr. Bernanke.

In other news, Claire, once a prominent figure in blogs gone by (she was practically the co-author and co-star of the legendary livejournal) has vanished into the abyss that is Houston. Our once beautiful friendship is now reduced to voicemails, poignently reminiscent of Jim and Pam on The Office now that Pam is in graphic design school. I'm not sure who should be held responsible for this (of course I am looking into the Broadway musical people first), but something must clearly be done. My life is less colorful, and certainly less entertaining, without her constant presence. Perhaps if I kidnapped the child, I could entice the Elliotts to move closer to me. I'll have to write Lucy a letter and see what she thinks.

Although I thoroughly enjoy coming home to my own apartment, I certainly miss my roomates, who now have roomates of their own (of the friend or husband variety.) I was thinking the other day about our pet raccoon, Ray (if you have ever watched a raccoon feel around rapidly with its paws for food on the ground while looking up with its face and eyes at other things, you know why his name was Ray.) And about how our apartment was fully decked out for Halloween, then the day after, Claire had wrapped our front door in Christmas paper, and we started stringing lights. We even (unsuccessfully) attempted to toss one of those nets of lights over the bradford pear kind of by Claire's turret. Unfortunately, the logistics made that effort impossible. The leg lamp in the window was perhaps the crowning achievement of our holiday decor, in addition to the amazing swag of various light strands on the balcony that inspired the entire apartment complex to haul out the holly, so to speak.

Another thing I have been thinking is that I really love scarves. They are so functional, I mean, it's amazing how much warmer you are when your neck is warm. But they are also such a nice look, and their current in-ness means they're even better right now. Go, scarves!

I was just handed a proposal for a book store who will potentially sponsor book reviews in the magazine. As I would love nothing more than to write book reviews, I must now go see if I can sign myself up for this job.

Friday

2008-10-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

Well, it's Friday. Two of my four bosses are already gone, and they are the two whose offices are directly beside me. So, I suppose it is time to post.

The GPS/McCallie Five year High School Reunion is this weekend. As Blaes and I are the co-chairs (meaning I wrote a letter and helped stuff envelopes and Blaes made all the Facebook things and put the r.s.v.p.s in an excell spreadsheet...I should be called sub-co-captain), it is a weekend in which all of our hard work and careful planning will finally come to fruition. As B. and I are also extremely competitive (and were very disappointed in what we thought was a champion showing at the Young Alums phone-a-thon on Tuesday, only to learn that Vivian and Katie both dominated our pledges by - in one case- literal hundreds of dollars) we are aiming for record turn outs at all weekend events, even the ones not really organized by us, like the Baylor/McCallie football game. This would prove once and for all that our class was better than the class of 2002.

A third of my four bosses just left. It is 4:10. I am currently on my cell phone, which I never do at work. I like how sometimes a day just feels like a throw-away day, like, "you don't have to do anything, it's Friday." A couple of weeks ago we went to lunch at the Bluegrass Grille on the Southside, and it's next door to some lofts. The sign outside said "first floor lofts" which to me is kind of an anomoly because I always thought lofts were like, by definition, on top of stuff, but I am not an architect so what do I know? Anyway, outside, on the sidewalk and in the street, literally, the street, in front of the building, these people were just having a little party. They had drug a couch and two chairs outside, in addition to some green astroturf, some tiki torches, a boom box, and a cooler. Keep in mind that this is at approximately 12:45 on a Friday afternoon.

I had an instant college flashback to leaving campus on a Friday afternoon and seeing the Fijis with their couches and chairs out on the lawn on College Street, already drunk at 1:00, playing bocce ball and listening to Phish or something really loud. All around campus, the tailgaters would be sitting in their folding chairs all day, drinking and hanging out, waiting til four so they could mark their tailgating spots. I always wondered what those people did for a living that they had time to sit in a folding chair for 6-8 hours on a workday, but it was always cheering to see them there. Friday, when the weather is nice, is always a throw-away day.

So it's fall, officially, I needed a jacket yesterday, and the weather is nice, and it's Friday. High School football tonight, and high school friends collecting at various air ports. What a charming way to start the weekend.

And now it's five. This blog post is my productivity for almost an hour, interrupted periodically by various work-related things. I deserve a raise.

Krisan made me do this...

2008-09-26T11:28:00.000-07:00

So any complaints or general irritation that results from reading postings here should be sent directly to her. Also, as I am hopelessly and perhaps irrevocably trapped in the 20th century as far as photography goes, there will not be any digital photographs displayed here (apologies.)

Also, as another caveat to future entries, I have a tendency to be wordy and, perhaps, to ramble a bit. (Anyone familiar with previous blogging efforts, http://elilley730.livejournal.com/, is well aware of the style.) Some enjoy it, although Ernest Hemingway most likely would not. (Which seems rude as I have conceded publicly to enjoying his very terse writings, but what can we do now?)

I have selected the title of this blog as a result of where I am currently posting, my desk on the third floor of the Chattanooga Times Free Press. This is a wonderful place and I love it and so many people upon hearing that I work here have asked me if I feel like Lois Lane I thought it appropriate. On occasion I have nothing to do but sit here at my lovely desk and gaze down the long hallway, which the vp of production who always wears bowties and tortoise-shell glasses and often seersucker (I know, you're probably thinking that we're perfect for each other but he's married and over 60, que sera) is always saying he'd like to turn into bowling lanes. Usually I fill my time by working on my deco file and reading designers blogs at www.dominomag.com (just try it. you'll love it. well, depending on your gender.) However, upon Krisan's urging I decided that on occasion I could practice the writing skills I am meant to be developing while working here and post some blogging of my own.

Earlier today I received a forward from someone who works here that I have never met. It was all these cheesey computer renderings/"art" pieces (that looked like they may have been painted on velvet) with sappy and somewhat theologically dubious messages incorporated into them like "God will not ask you what clothes were in your closet but how many people you helped clothe" and other similar notions. At the end, in an even larger and more dramatic image (they looked like those science fiction posters with like unicorns and knights and dragons in them) with a message about how "God will not ask you how many people you chose to forward this to because He already knows your decision..." My thoughts? Wow. Someone actually took this seriously. And forwarded it to EVERYONE who works at the Times Free Press. Our president is not going to be thrilled about this.

Approximately ten minutes later I received an email, also sent to everyone who works here, from the HR director, kindly reminding us to get any email that will be sent to the whole company approved by the president first, and referred us to an attached copy of the email rules and regulations.

Guess I'll think twice before I send out that hilarious list of "Top Ten Ways You Know You're a Vols Fan..."