That'll be $300 for the boxes, please

* The shrubbery shapers were back today. Damn them.
* I had to call (AGAIN!) the front office of my apartment complex to find out why I am still without a new washer, microwave and ceiling fan in my bedroom. I'm getting very frustrated with them. In talking with a couple of the Gymboree moms today about moving, they said that it would probably only take them a couple days to pack up for a move. I was all, "It takes me a couple months, I'm so particular about it." But tonight, I'm wondering. How quickly could I pack up my apartment to get out of this place? I imagine that if it came down to having to be out in six weeks, I could probably do it.
* Katy and I reorganized the furniture in my living room yesterday, and today I decided that I'm officially liking it. No more red lamp, sadly, but it's a more comfortable space with the big sofa. Incidentally, the sofa passed Brian's test last night: he fell asleep on it quite comfortably.
* I finished my brownies tonight. They were really yummy.

Notice the green awning

I have no desire to dwell on May 2007, so, with a (relatively) clean slate and (somewhat) better frame of mind, I present the June avatar. I like that there is now an outdoor coffeehouse background. It makes me feel like my girl is all cozy and comfortable hanging out with her friends.

The Emmett tables

One more project done and finished.
New sofa; check!
Brian and I visited a few different furniture stores over the weekend, and finally decided on one that we both seem to like. It's a big, cushy, chocolate brown, pseudo-suede sofa, with decorative rivets. Rivets? Yes! Rivets! Brian was confused by my sudden and incomprehensible decision that decorative rivets were not as awful as they were just less than a year ago. I, too, am intrigued by my change of heart in regards to the rivets, but not enough to really care a lot.
As it is, I've got a large brown sofa in my living room, as well as a coffee table and TV stand that simply do not go with the rest of the room decor. They must be changed. Actually, I've already found a coffee table replacement in the latest Pottery Barn catalog. I think I'll go with the two square tables instead of the one rectangular table. I've been really excited about that possibility lately. They're pricey though, so I think I'll wait until next month to pick them up.

Slightly cooling, yet squishy

I made brownies today. Well, more accurately, I messed up my brownies today. Actually, I didn't so much "mess," as I did make an idiot out of myself.
I was stirring the batter, you know, my favorite part, when I lifted up the bowl to see through the bottom if all the ingredients had mixed. They hadn't, so I started to mix the batter while watching through the bottom. Suddenly, I felt something weird hit my foot. You see, it wasn't even the sound of the batter hitting the floor that distracted me, no. It was the batter actually beginning to spill on my toes. Anyway, I quickly pulled down the bowl to realize that, yes, as I was stirring, I was also slowly tilting, and in that, the batter was spilling.
With about a quarter of the batter now unusable, I baked the brownies in a smaller pan. They turned out really well. I just had my first one. Yummy stuff.
The rug's clean now, too. The washing of it moves the washer around a lot. The drying of it takes four cycles through my dryer.
I did tell Brian about this, just so you know. He called this afternoon and needed a fun story to make him smile. This one worked.

[Editor's note: This is not my brownie. I would never have such an ugly plate upon which to put it.]

You get the snorkels, I'll get the boat

I have no illusions about my career being an exciting one. It's not. There are no high-stress dramas focusing on the life of a magazine editor. Movies aren't made about it, and certainly, very few people dream about being a good proofreader.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut, or an archaeologist, or a helicopter pilot, or a pirate. I find that I would still dig having one of those occupations, especially after reading about someone doing something cool with one of those nifty careers.
As an example, shipwreck salvaging. A salvage company based in Tampa, Fla., has gone public with a find that has yielded an estimated $500 million in silver and gold coins. The 17th-century shipwreck is somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Because the shipwreck was found in a lane where many colonial-era vessels went down, there is still some uncertainty about its nationality, size and age, although evidence points to a specific known shipwreck. The site is beyond the territorial waters or legal jurisdiction of any country, too, meaning it is the property of the salvage company.
Sure, the money's all good, but how romantically cool to be a shipwreck salvager? A treasure hunter of the first degree. That is much more exciting than distinguishing between an em- and en-dash.

Coincidentally, or not, it's channel 8

I'm vexed. Do I stick with my desire for an iPod attached stereo, or go with the satellite radio? I've been hungering for the iPod attachment for months, but have got to say that spending the last several days with Mom's Sirius radio has been fun, enlightening and thought provoking. So maybe the "Movin' EZ" station isn't exactly my speed, but the "Big 80s" is just what I need to get through the day. I mean, it transmitted by favorite 80s song ever on Tuesday! (FYI, it's Glass Tiger's "Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone." And no, iTunes hasn't made it available yet. I check regularly.) So, I could go with the iPod, which I love so very much. But the Sirius station plays stuff that I didn't even realize was missing from my iPod's library.
Hmm. Which stations would I listen to, were I to have Sirius? Definitely, the 80s, and Elvis. Show tunes, adult alternative, and rock are required, too. The Oldies, sure. The 90s, too. Actually, the selection is quite nice. Maybe I should go with the satellite radio.
Yeah!
AND the iPod attachment! That's the ticket! Why choose one when both is twice as nice!

Howie

You know, I look at that last post and I find myself wishing that my life were again as it was that night.
I hate saying it, but avoiding the truth of the words doesn't make it less true. Howie died on Wednesday. My wonderful, ridiculous, loving, inspiring, mockable, happy, selfless Howie is no longer in my life, and I don't know how I'll come to grips with it.
You all know what he meant to me. You all know that I loved him so much. Most of you probably thought that I picked on him too much. But you know what? If I didn't, he'd want to know why I was mad at him. If I didn't, he wouldn't know how much I love him. If I didn't, he'd get to tweak at me unimpeded, and that would have sucked.
What to say, what to say. I'm at such a loss for words, though you wouldn't know it by how much I've written over the last couple days. As I told Mom, it's fitting that the education that he paid for, that the writing talent that he was so proud of, would be used to compose an obituary, directions to the remembrance gathering, and yes, a eulogy.
It's too much for me right now, to try to approach this on this level, in my personal space that I share with you all. It's too much for me to grapple with.
I will be back soon though.

My scalp's a bit warm

I've got Saran Wrap on my head. Yes, my head is wrapped up in plastic, like some weird translucent turban. I've applied the color on my hair, by myself, and am waiting for it to soak all in and take away the pink. I've made a bigger mess in my bathroom than Brian does when he shaves his head.
Malia concocted the color, included the gloves and application bottle even, and gave some very specific instructions. Reasons why I love Malia: she and I have the same birthday; we tell each other everything; she encourages my whims (pink highlights), denies my flights of fancy (not a blonde), and totally digs it when I sit in her chair and say, "Let's cut it all off." She also ends her very specific instructions with the statement, "It's pretty simple. You can't ruin anything so don't worry."
I thoroughly enjoy how well some of my favorite people know me. All my friends were like, "Pink hair? Whatever. That's so you." And my fave hairdresser in the world was all, "I know you. You could screw this up, so I'll make it as easy as possible. And, I'll make it idiot-proof."

Rescue: 2010

And now we know that there will be an official ending to Lost. Per Variety, ABC and Lost producers have agreed on a finishing point to the series: in the 2009-2010 season, three years from now, 16 episodes each season, to be shown in one block without any repeats. (Click here for the article on Yahoo!.)
One word: Brilliant! This was the best way to control the show's plotlines, give the viewers the knowledge that everything will be resolved in some way, and allow ABC the gravitas to market the show for all it's worth over those three years. I'm excited! This is a precedent-setting move by the network, which will be able to say that it was "the first" to give a show an endgame. It makes a promise to people like me who want to be sure that their time invested in the show will eventually pay off. It sets us all up for a great 48 episodes over the next three seasons. It also means that I've only got four more DVD sets to buy.

They're nude

This is funny! LOOK at all the naked people!

Thousands of naked volunteers pose for U.S. photographer Spencer Tunick at Mexico City's Zocalo square May 6, 2007. A record 18,000 people took off their clothes to pose for Tunick on Sunday in Mexico City's Zocalo square, the heart of the ancient Aztec empire. (Daniel Aguilar/Reuters)

Southwestern eggrolls and a salad

So I spend this Saturday night at home watching the fights with my hubby. I'm no fan of the sport, in fact, I hate watching boxing at any time. But Brian was intrigued, and, since I like to sit next to Brian, it's the fight on television tonight. The first two fights are over already, and I actually watched them. Right now, Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather are in the ring, dancing around a little, and preparing for their big event. I have no allegiance to either of them, and couldn't care less who walks out of this one a winner.

We did some productive stuff today, though I didn't get as much done as I wanted. We did make it over to the Costco home store, and made arrangements to have them come and pick up our sofa. Actually, we paid for them to pick it up. They'll call me next week to let me know when they'll be by to get it. Unfortunately, we didn't find anything at the store to replace our outgoing sofa, so I need to find some furniture stores for us to check out. As it is though, Brian trusts me to find us a good sofa (as long as it's pwoofy) within the next two weeks before Costco comes to get our current piece. That, of course, is tacit approval that I get to pick whichever one I want, provided he doesn't have to go through the search with me. Fair enough, I guess. After the home store, we hit the actual Costco, picking up fun stuff like toilet paper and trash bags, as well as some frozen food items.
But that is not today's gravy. Wait for it ... Brian consented to eat lunch at Chili's. Why he doesn't like the restaurant is beyond me. Seriously, it's one of the most benign places ever.

Maybe even $200

I totally would have paid $100 to see Britney lip sync on stage for 15 minutes. That would have been the coolest thing ever! I can't wait for her next concert tour, because I am ALL OVER IT!
Entertainment shows are all, "Crazy people! Who pays that much to watch someone recycle three-year-old material and then not even sing it with their own voice as it is right now?!" We're all, "Back up that truck! Leave Brit be! She's just checking it all out!"
Thankfully, the fans have been supportive (with a few naysayers about the non-singing), so maybe we'll be seeing Brit back on stage with some new stuff soon. I'm missing some kicky pop in my life, so Britney might be the answer to that.

Strawberry Shortcake, I presume?

ITEM!: Brian dislikes the pink hair. He actually said to me last night, "And I really don't like your hair." I knew that he wouldn't love it, but I really didn't think that he would dislike it that much. And while, yes, I am a modern woman who doesn't need to be perfect for her man, I do like it better when he doesn't see something he dislikes in glowing pink. So, off to Malia's tomorrow to see what she has to suggest to fix it. I'd like to rid myself of the pink on top, since it's fading anyway. The bottom part is going, too, but I think I'll keep the pink in my bangs. I like it there.
ITEM!: I'm so disappointed in The Hoff. Have you seen that video of him, all drunk and slurring, on the floor of his room in Las Vegas? It's so disgusting, really, to watch him crawling on the carpet, trying to feed himself a hamburger, talking (sort of) to a family member who was recording him so he could see what he was like when he's drunk. While taking the initiative to have someone record you in such a state so you could use it as a learning tool is an interesting approach, having a family member do it is kinda sad, and seeing it on Extra is just icky. Hoff, I applaud your struggle for sobriety. But, herein, my illogical crush on The Hoff is ended. I'm creeped out. Sadly, I'll never be able to see him again without thinking of that video.
ITEM!: My apartment management has agreed to replace my microwave, replace my washing machine, and will install a ceiling fan in my living room, all in exchange for us signing a new lease, and paying more per month. I really don't want a ceiling fan in my living room, but I don't know what else to get from them that is comparable. My carpets are already clean. I suppose I could have asked for all the shrubs to be allowed to grow as they please.

Bunny hopping is fun

* I'm at a loss. Someone explain to me why Meatloaf (or, as my mom used to call him to be funny, Hamburger) is performing on Dancing with the Stars: The Results. I can't decide who picked the short stick here: the show or the performer. Actually, I think the show got the short stick, because I would totally have watched the show instead of a concert by Meatloaf. He's got a red scarf hanging from his microphone stand. Does anyone do that anymore? Okay, does anyone other than Steven Tyler do that anymore? [Program note: They have got to stop these Jimmy Kimmel bits. They're just stupid.]
* Have I told you about the sofa issues? That cool leather sofa that we had to have is wearing in a couple spots. Because I didn't really want to deal with it, I was avoiding contacting Costco Home in regards to getting a replacement. Of course, Mom to the rescue, and she called them to see what's the deal. Guess what? Since the store doesn't sell that sofa anymore, they'll refund the money for it. Now begins the search for a new sofa. This one will not be leather. Who knew that leather sofas were so hot to sit on? I'm sure a lot of you did, but clearly, we had to learn on our own.
* Our apartment complex sent us a lease renewal over the weekend. They want to up our monthly payment by about $100. It's not the money really, because still, compared to Boston, this place is a frickin' steal. It's that the place isn't any better for the money they want now. They wouldn't clean my carpets for me, and, as you all remember, they would not give me a new microwave. And, my washing machine has rust at the bottom of the basket. Here's the thing: Can you really negotiate with an apartment complex? I would love for them to tell me that I don't need to pay any more. However, I would settle for paying more, if they give me all the stuff I want.
* I'm so bummed that John is leaving the show! He was so cool! They're all doing the Bunny Hop!! Awesome!! Okay, now I'm convinced that there is some kind of red state conspiracy to keep Billy Ray, who clearly is done with this whole thing, on the show. Is it that they like to giggle at him?