Autumnal arrival

Well, the leaves haven't exactly started changing colors yet, and they aren't falling off trees, but autumn has arrived in Boston. This morning was the third in a row that my toes have gotten cold while walking the dog. I haven't changed out the summer shoes for the winter shoes yet, but the flip flops for the morning constitutional are not cutting it anymore. This weekend, we break out the "morning Uggs," and the tootsies can be toasty once again.
A day like today, where it was 50 degrees when Ollie and I went out, is a bit of a welcome and a curse. I mean, it's nice that the summer heat and humidity is on its way out, and the fall colors will start rolling in; but the downside, of course, is that the unbearably cold temperatures are naught but a few weeks away.
Brian and I have a bet as to when the first snow will fall: he says October, but I'm holding out for November. The Farmer's Almanac says that it'll be a brutal winter no matter what, so really, in the end, we should just enjoy the 50s while we've got them!

Headbands

My earliest memory of wearing a headband: I'm about five or so, maybe younger. The headband was one of those plastic, inch-wide creations in a marble-y brown color, better to match my hair color. Anyway, I swear to the kids that I can dig a deeper hole in the sand faster, so remove the headband and use it as a shovel. It worked well. Mom got mad at me for having a lot of dirt in my hair.
Today, headbands are to me what Brian would call a "Big Mac moment:" something that sounds really good once a year, and once you've had one, you remember why you've gone a whole year without one.
I have about four different headbands in my "hair things" drawer. This morning, I tried on the skinny black one...then the elastic rainbow colors...and finally settled on the brown leather. Walking out of the house, I thought, "This is comfortable. I should wear them more often."
Then it happened: 1. I couldn't put on my sunglasses because the headband is in the way. That's just annoying. 2. By the time I return from lunch, the thing is digging into the side of my head like no one's business. A headache is developing, and it can be traced back to the twin points behind my ears where this contraption has been pressing all day.
I've taken the devil device off now. It's sitting and mocking me from the corner of my desk. Time to put it away until next year.

Pumpkin spice latte

I tried Starbucks' new pumpkin spice latte this morning, on the advice of the baristas. The inital drink is good enough, with a sufficient pumpkin-y, spice-ish-ness to it. But let me tell you, the aftertaste is brutal. I've been downing Altoids like M&Ms. It's taken me all morning to get the drink's lingering ickness out of my mouth. Tomorrow, we return to the land of mocha.

Making changes

Okay, everyone, I've decided to make a couple changes in how I go about posting to the blog from now on. Effective immediately, names are no longer off limits. Most of you know basically who you are anyway, and really, it's more fun to see your name in print, right? Just naming people by their first initals, I've decided, is cheesy.
Of course, those of you who have your own "names," will be referred to as such, i.e., Mom, Howie, Daddy, Leesa, Andy, JJ, boob sister, Megs, T, Auntie D, Jas, Jess, and Ollie, to name a few.
If you have a huge aversion to seeing your name on the blog, let me know ... or just don't do anything too interesting that I'll want to write about.

Here's a picture that recently came into my possession of Mom and I. We figure I'm about three in this photo. Check out Mom rocking the sweater vest. "It matched the pants," she says. (Thanks, Daddy!)

Responsible choices

Every once in a while, I make a decision that, on the outset, is right, but that, moments later, I can't believe I made. You know that commercial where the woman's walking down the sidewalk, and her 10-year-old self blocks her path and starts berating her for driving a minivan?
My 20-year-old self mocked me for making a responsible choice this morning.
I'm driving to work, singing along with my new, favorite radio station. I'm about five minutes ahead of the normal morning commute. The dilemma presents itself: the gas tank is below the 1/4 marker, closer actually to "E," but the light's not on. I'm also thirsty for an iced mocha.
What to do? Take the time to fill up the tank so it's not on fumes for my drive home and on the way back to work tomorrow (I only get gas in the morning), or say "screw it" to the gas, take a chance, and stop for some cool, refreshing beverage?
A serious discussion of the pros and cons ensues.
I choose to get gas for the car.
Today, I disappoint my inner rebel.

Amusement park justice

We used to go to Disneyland a lot. For a long time, it was me, Mom, Auntie, Cousin Ja, Cousin Je, and the all-wonderful Gramps. Cousin Je, the youngest, was famous for getting tired, or cranky, or just deciding to be diffcult, about halfway through the afternoon, trouncing over to a bench, curb or planter, throwing herself down, and refusing to move. ("My feet hurt!" was the usual complaint.) We, of course, would all pretend to leave her there, or would tell her that she's being a brat, or would just sit down, fake that it was all our idea to stop, and enjoy some kind of ice cream treat.
Cut to 15 years later. Je has a 3-year-old son of her own, A., and Auntie has a job that gave them free access to an amusement park in Virginia for the day. (As I hear it, this is what happened.) Dearest A. was too afraid of the characters at the park; and screamed throughout the kids' roller coaster.
The justice, my friends, is that about halfway through the afternoon, A. announced that his legs were broken, and that he would not be walking anywhere anymore. And then just sat down! He insisted on being carried, if he was going to go anywhere. Auntie was cracking up throughout the whole thing, as would the rest of us had been! Apparently, Je, realizing the irony and humor that her mother was receiving from this, was not too amused. (I love you, sweet Je, but this is just super funny to me.) Justice! 15 years in the making!!

Mom's b-day

Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dearest Mommy,
happy birthday to you!
I love you!!

Provincetown

Hubby, The Beast and I went adventuring this weekend! With naught but an atlas, and the knowledge that the town is at the tip of the Cape, we set sail for Provincetown. (Not really in a boat, so it's technically not "setting sail," but whatever.) We got comfy in the car, and settled in for our drive.
Not knowing exactly how long it would take, we decided against making any stops along the way (it was Sat. afternoon already). One stop though, was worth its weight in gold. The Beast popped his beach cherry, running along the sand and frolicking in the waves...well, the small waves. He got blindsided by a couple larger swells, but thoroughly enjoyed himself! He was digging it more than I can describe to you!
Provincetown was in the midst of its Pet Appreciation Weekend (of which we had no idea), so cruising through the downtown was an experience worthy of walking through any pet-friendly vacation destination. Dogs were everywhere! The Beast was overwhelmed with places, people and things to sniff, and it actually got to the point where Hubby had to pick him up just so he could get a rest! He took a nap though, while we enjoyed our own romantic harborside dinner.
And just for you people out there who know about P-Town, our visit was a complete one, as, upon our departure, we were approached by a man in drag, who wanted us to come watch his show.
We spent the night in a drab little place in Eastham, hiding The Beast in our room, and took off relatively early this morning. Breakfast at a little place in Orleans kicked off the day, and we traveled a good portion of our return on the more-scenic Route 6A. The Beast got to run around on another beach; we stopped for a potty break at a beachside public restroom nicer than the bathroom in our $90 motel; and we finally made it back to Boston, on one incredibly expensive tank of gas.

Nappy hair

Why is it, that when your significant other decides to comment on your appearance that day, he/she may choose to do it 15 miles away from home, in a Starbucks, when there is little to nothing you can do about? I mean, I know that the hair was a little surprising today. My bangs were kinda messed, so they had to be pulled back into a barrette. The rest was a bit on the frizzy side, since it got a little humid last night with the windows open. But to wait until we're standing in line at said Starbucks to tell me that my 'do looked "nappy?" That's just not cool! I've been obsessing all day! Every time I go into the bathroom I tell myself that it's not "nappy" today, it's just misbehaving. If I had that information before leaving home, I'd have flattened the coiffure into submission. Here's a tip, people: When you've got something to say about your hubby/wife and their appearance, speak up! Don't wait until you're outside and the light is better!!

New Orleans

There are a lot of people out there who would just as soon see New Orleans drown in its own waters, bastion of debauchery and alcohol-fueled misdeeds that, to them, it is. For me, the city is so much more. I've been there a few times, each a life-changing experience in it's own way.
At 17: My first visit was for a convention. I traveled with Mom, H. and Auntie; took the city tour; was introduced to cafe and beignets at Cafe du Monde; got into a bar with my sister in-law's ID; and watched a Mardi Gras parade. I think, because of the humidity, the beauty of it, and the taste of nightlife, I fell in love.
At 21: In town for another convention, I was invited out with my brothers for a night on the town. We cruised Bourbon Street; drank some hurricanes; rocked out to some jazz; stayed out too late; and I had to get on a plane stinking of alcohol and hangover the next morning. Of course, I also visited Cafe du Monde a couple times. Love affair: continued, if also intensified.
At 31: Just last year: May '05. I was in town for a convention for my own job, but again, the first stop in town was Cafe du Monde. Cruising Bourbon Street isn't as cool when you're with your boss, but it was fun anyway. I was sad to leave without doing as many fun activities... Love affair: continued.
So, for me, to think of that city under water is heartbreaking. Of course, any time you've been somewhere, it brings a disaster in that place closer to you. All my thoughts are with the city, and its residents, especially now that another hurricane rumbles closer. There's another convention there next spring, and I hope to go, do my part for the city's re-emerging toursim efforts, and yes, enjoy some beignets at Cafe du Monde.

Photo of Cafe du Monde shamelessly stolen from its web site.

Wednesday's premieres

Holy cripes, people! There's a guy living in the hatch! He's got running water, electricity, a blender, computers, paint for artistic endeavors and a supply of maraschino cherries! And apparently a wicked case of the "must have's" for the T virus antidote. (Points to who can give it up for that reference.)
But seriously, what the hell!!?? LOST completely and totally delivered last night, making the last 12 weeks or so of drought worth it. I'm okay with not knowing what happened with Michael, Jin and Sawyer for the week, as there was way too much going on on the island. Walt's appearance, which I think was him trying to communicate psychically with Shannon; um, Desmond, who can run stairs faster than Jack; Hurley telling Jack about the numbers, and the best response to the story, "You were in a psych ward?;" and Locke and Kate going in the hatch against Jack's wishes. Oh yeah, and the hair. What was up with Jack's hair?
The morning's critique was favorable from the crew here, so we'll give this ep a thumbs up! And A., welcome to the island!!
I also watched Invasion, which kept me glued to the television, and jumping in my seat, what with the light in the water grabbing the brother, and the too observant little girl. Another home run, I think, for ABC.

Photo of Lost cast shamelessly and illegally pilfered from Entertainment Weekly's web site.

Yay pictures!

Check it out everyone! I finally spent the time to figure out how to upload pics in my posts!
Look at me! There is little better than a frosty beverage on the beach in Miami!

Canadian geese

Canadian geese are prevalent here in New England, and seem to be around all year long. No flying south in the winter for these guys. And you don't have to live too long out in the area before you come across these roaming gangs of attitude on two legs. They populate parks, highway on-ramps, and riversides. (One of my favorite gangs roams the south side of the Charles River, getting their feet wet every once in a while.) As a lover of a bird with attitude (and who wouldn't be after living with the delightful Yellow Feather for those years), I am completely down with their whole thought process that ranges from, "Y'all will slow down, cuz we're crossing the street," and "No, we won't move. Jog around us," to "This is our field. You leave." In a flock of 15 or 20, they own their area, and they let everyone who dares to infringe on their space know it.

Monday's premieres

It's that time of year again... When the leaves begin to turn, kids are back in school, sweaters return to the front of the closet, and yes, television shows start off their new seasons. Some of these crackling new shows smell as good as a fresh packet of pencils. (I love TV. Simple as that. It's one of the best inventions ever, that somehow, keeps paying off year after year.)
In a surprise turn of events, Fox was the station of choice last night.
Monday night's critique:
Arrested Development was brilliant, as usual.
A new treat for the senses though, is Kitchen Confidential. The show itself featured crisp, smart writing; enough grown-up stuff to keep me interested; a terrific cast (including Alias alumni Bradley Cooper and Buffy's Xander, Nicholas Brendan); and the potential to be just as good, or even better, as the season moves on. I'm looking forward to next week.
One of the best things about a new show though, is finding someone else who enjoyed it. Thanks, P., for continuing to have similar taste in television as I!

The Emmys

I love awards shows. Those who have attended my Oscar events know this, and most people are cognizant of the fact that I will not be bothered for at least three hours the morning after an awards show, so I can catch up on all the gossip, fashion critiques and fun quotes from the previous evening. Having just finished my Emmy binging, I offer you the following:
Emmy voters are ridiculously predictable. A couple surprises got my hopes up, only to be dashed by tiresome, and repeat, wins by Brad Garrett, William Shatner, James Spader, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Tony Shalhoub. I am beyond pleased to see that no The West Winger walked away with a prize. (The show's biggest crime? Letting Aaron Sorkin walk away.) You know why the Oscars are more fun? Rarely does someone win two years in a row.
Lost, one of my faves, hit the stage for its outstanding drama series win, and I'm super excited! (Season 2 starts Wed. night!) Other wins I approve of include: Felicity Huffman (a great actress, and her winning negates some of the Housewife catfighting we'd be hearing about today if Teri Hatcher won); Blythe Danner, just because she's classy; Jon Stewart, who helms one of the best half hours on television; and Arrested Development, a show that, they're right, no one watches (easily the most in-your-face comment on the Emmys' blatant ego).
Who got robbed: Lauren Graham of Gilmore Girls (when will the Emmys begin to appreciate this show for its greatness, and this actress for her talents?); Zach Braff and Scrubs, the most clever and endearingly funny sitcom on right now; Jennifer Garner--she's been nominated so many times for Alias, a terrific show--oh, and she deserves to win; and Jeremy Piven, who's just awesome.
The Emmys tend to reward pedestrian comedy, and snub those that take chances, such as Arrested Development, Scrubs and even Desperate Housewives. The same, unfortunately, holds true for good drama, although Lost's win is a step in the right direction.

Throwback movies

I know you all were worried that I'd make it home yesterday, and I did.
Sometimes, I very much love HBO and Cinemax. The channels tend to play the same movies--the recent acquisitions anyway--all the time. It's good for say, Napoleon Dynamite, but not so much for something like Club Dread (really, we love the Broken Lizard guys, but this one just wasn't that good) . Every once in a while though, they throw on something that I haven't seen in a while. Yes, my friends, I stayed up until 1:45 a.m. this morning watching Titanic. "I'll never let go, Jack!" "I'm the king of the world!" "I'm sorry I didn't build you a stronger boat, Miss Rose." (That by Victor Garber, actor extraordinaire.) "Iceberg, right ahead!" Yep, I was totally and completely sucked in.
What throwback movie have you found yourself watching recently?

The drive home

So, who's gonna come out to the parking lot with me and see if we can't find this big bug? I foresee another uncomfortable drive in my future. Is it possible to explode a bug bomb in a car??

Chick moment

So, I'm singing, "La, la, la, la, la, I'll go to work today....," as I throw all my bags in the car this morning, jump in and buckle my seat belt. After fidgeting around, and being sure I'm comfy, I feel something on my arm, probably just a cobweb, or string, or something, right? Take a quick peek, and "YIKES!" Big bug! On my arm!! Really! It was about an inch long, with all kinds of centipede legs, and it's just chilling there! In my chickness, I, of course, shrieked, and flicked the damn thing off my arm, but then it fell into the car (maybe) and--disappeared! I leapt out of the vehicle, did a couple jumps up and down to be sure it wasn't still on me, and then went on the hunt. Carefully. Um, 15 minutes later, still no bug.
The drive to work was not comfortable. Every odd feeling, be it my hair against my neck, or just a random breeze from the vent, sent chills down my spine, and me into girly fits. Ick. And the thing's probably still in the car, setting up housekeeping.

The Beast

The Beast does not like to potty in the rain. He'll wander around, and circle several times, but when it comes down to sealing the deal, he won't do it. During this process, we both get wet, with no payoff. He holds it until it either stops raining, or he explodes from the inside.

Britney Spears

Someone, please tell me, is Britney Spears the first woman ever to give birth to a baby? Why is it then, that her going into labor and having her baby is breaking news? News stations broke into Katrina coverage to let us know this; it was even a teaser for one station's 11 o'clock news last night. You all know how much I love the Brit (in fact, one coworker was sure to point out that in commenting negatively on this, I was talking out of turn), but with stuff in the world as it is right now, the last thing I wanted to hear about on the news last night was Britney's baby ... and the scuffle news magazine's are involved in trying to scoop the kid's name ... and that it might or might not have been a c-section ... and that she had a police escort to the hospital ...
(Not lost on me is the irony that I, of course, know all this because I've been reading about it all day today. Sing with me now, "Oops, I did it again. I played with your heart; got lost in the game...")

Politics

I find that I am uneager to spout off too much about politics here, but I've just got to comment for a moment on John Roberts, the guy Bush nominated for Chief Justice. (He's just finished his fourth day of cross-examination by the Senators.)
But first, a question. At this point, I don't imagine he can be confirmed as only a "regular" Justice, can he? If he's nominated for a "chief" position, is that the only way he can be confirmed onto the Court? No sort of clarification like, "Well, we'll bring you in, but not as our boss."
I'm inclined to say that anyone who won't go on record as pro-choice or pro-life (or as "for" or "against" any other controversial issue, for that matter) should not be allowed to just take up the highest seat in the Court. He talks a lot about precedent and it's importance to the legal system; and I agree that precedent is important. What's dangerous though, is that the Supreme Court can change precedent.
I would suggest that the people should be able to vote on the future of a Justice, too, however, I don't really trust "the people" that much anymore.

FedEx Kinkos

Alright, so I got my response back from FedEX. It's below. I was hoping for some kind of, "Thank you for your insight! I will endeavor to put into place your suggestions as soon as I finish writing to you now! Signed, FedEx Kinkos CEO." Alas, not so much.

"Thank you for contacting us. I apologize for the inconvenience you have encountered upon. I have forwarded your concern onto our corporate offices for their review."

It's better than nothing, I suppose.

Parking

I live in Boston. Parking here is a delicate dance. Even more so than those fancy steps at the end of Dirty Dancing. No one really knows how stressed out I get every time I come home from some errand, or day at work, knowing that I may find a spot right in front of my building, or that I may end up driving around for 15 minutes, and then find myself squeezing the vehicle into a very tenuous spot that may or may not be kinda too close to a fire hydrant. Tonight though, the parking god was smiling down on me.
I decided to hit the gym after work today, rather than at lunch, and ended up getting home a full hour later than normal. Usually, that would mean the sound of the deathwatch beetle, and after 30 minutes driving around, I would find myself slumped over the steering wheel, horn blaring mournfully, sobbing. But tonight, after a mere five minutes cruising the streets, a place opened up right in front of the building. Too cool.

Going public

I really never thought I'd be nervous about anyone, just anyone, reading the random thoughts that trickle through my brain everyday, all day. That, of course, was until I gave out the address for my blog to two friends at work (and you know who you are). I'm pretty comfortable that they'll read this stuff and be, at least partially, amused by my brain leakage. The challenge though, is, now knowing that people are actually reading this, to still attack it with my eyes wide open, and without holding back. I think I can handle it though. So keep reading, A. and P., bring it on!!

Wednesday morning

Gilmore Girls totally delivered last night. Luke said yes, Lorelai is still completely pissed at Rory and her parents, and Logan is still a hotty.
I wrote a letter to FedEx yesterday, complaining that it takes almost 15 minutes to pick up a package at a "hold for pick up" location (my neighborhood Kinko's). Associates behind the counter have to go through a painfully long series of steps before releasing the package. I don't get why I can't just show my ID, sign for the thing, and walk out with the box. If you have a similar issue, write to FedEx. Together, we can change the world!

Gilmore Girls

So, yes, I'm an unabashed fan of the Gilmore Girls. I really got hooked on the show about a year and a half ago, but also have been catching up with it on ABC Family reruns. Tonight is the season premiere, and we get to find out whether or not Luke says yes or no to Lorelai's proposal. I've already read a spoiler on the episode (a practice I hate, but totally buy in to), and may know some stuff. My friend, M., watches it sometimes, too, so I'm hoping to e-mail with her a bit about it tomorrow. The show starts in about 15 minutes, so I'll need to hurry up my snack and fill up my water bottle.

Deer

I work in Waltham, Massachusetts. The drive out to my office is usually nice enough, a straight shot on a couple little highways and byways. This morning though, as I was passing by a usually benign bit of grassy knoll, I spied four deer loping, yes, loping, across the expanse. Two adult and two young deer heading from one tree-laden area to another. They were so serene, and so beautiful. They almost made me forget how ridiculously irritating the woman in the Jeep ahead of me was.