Hot Irish guy

I've been trolling my usual Web sites this morning, and on Boston.com, there is a slideshow of the exiting music critic's 10 favorite U2 shows. This is a picture of Bono, circa 1984, that they had on the site. All young, sweaty, passionate and energized, he's too hot. I thought I'd share.

Time to build a snowman

So the first big, huge snowstorm is upon us, and it's got everyone in a tizzy. There was about an inch of the powdery white on the ground when Ollie and I went out this morning, and the snowfall has not stopped. The drive to work was slow, though not too perilous. A good number of people chose to not drive in at all, and I envy them. There was about two inches of snow in the office parking lot, which as of 9 hadn't been plowed yet, and I'll have to wipe another four inches or so off the car when I'm ready to leave today. "They" say that we may get as much as 12 inches out of this storm.
Things to do to prepare for the official snow:
1. Move shovel from balcony to backseat of car.
2. Move window scraper from backseat to under driver's seat in the front.
3. Double-check windshield cleaning fluid.
4. Spread out towels at each door into the apartment: from balcony into bedroom for Oliver's snow drops, and at front door for our wet and dripping shoes.
Some of these things, you may say, should have been done before the first snowflake fell, but I simply do not work that way. I prefer to not do those things until I'm absolutely sure that it will snow this winter, and for that kind of assurance, I had to wait until it actually did start to snow.

Dentist appointment

It's a hard life sometimes, being the wife of a dental student. It means that, at least a couple times, said wife is asked to come in for a procedure to be graded on by the instructors. I know, I know. You all think, "I would never let my spouse freedom in my mouth with a moving instrument." Only a couple years ago, I would have been standing in front of the group saying that exact thing.
This evening, I had my second appointment with my dentist/hubby for a routine cleaning. This trip was more comfortable than the first, and I've got to tell you that, as a dentist, my husband has a gentle touch, and seems to be good at what he's doing. My frame of reference is a bit skewed though, as I've never had a cavity or any work done in my mouth. (My regular dentist in California told me that I would be the worst kind of dental student wife, because my teeth had nothing wrong with them.)
So B did the cleaning, polishing and a bit of scraping; I got a lecture on the importance of flossing more often; we got through the grading process with only one quizzing question and flying colors; and it's official: I make him more nervous than any other patient simply because he has to go home with me if he accidentally jabs me in the gums or something.

Celebrities who bug

(We had a spirited meeting this morning, so forgive me if I'm a bit spikey today.)
I admit to being an entertainment addict. I love the television, movies, music, books and theater -- and keeping up with all those pursuits is a full-time hobby. Today's news is from the world of music.
The Grammy nominations were announced this morning, and Mariah Carey came away with eight nods. For the record: Mariah Carey bugs me. She always has. Is it the hair, tan and teeth? The penchant for wearing the same dress style, and striking the same pose, for most every photo op? The absolute driving necessity to bare as much skin as possible, whether the occasion and weather calls for it or not? Hmm. Really, her clothing choices are tacky; she's as full of herself as Jennifer Lopez (and that's saying something); she tries to be hardcore, but after dueting with Boyz II Men that's really not possible; and she fancies herself some kind of butterfly/Bond hotty who floats above other mere mortals. And her music is bad. Ask me when this opinion developed, and I'll tell you that I don't remember exactly, just that I've harbored it for years, and that it's not likely to abate. I just know that when I see her picture, or hear her voice, I physically cringe, and move as fast as possible to remove the offending image or noise from my vicinity. (I only post her photo for your reference, not at all because I want to.)
But most everyone has a celebrity or two that bugs them, and for no real reason ... just because. Mom is bugged by Nicole Kidman and Jim Carrey. Pamela is bugged by Paris Hilton. Alison revealed once that she's bugged by Renee Zellwegger. Amy doesn't like Brad Pitt.
Other Grammy nominations went to the best band in the world, U2 (who racked up five); Gwen Stefani for her album Love. Angel. Music. Baby.; Paul McCartney; and Green Day. Of course, if U2 is going to play the award show (Feb. 8), I'll be watching for them. But if they're not on the bill, I'll sit this one out. Must stay away from Mariah... must stay away from Mariah...

Odd twins: part 1

A smiling Saddam Hussein, or Mel Gibson?
You decide.

Captured by J.Lo.

While I'm not a card-carrying member of PETA (and I believe that the group does go to extremes some times), I do agree that fake fur is the way to go when it comes to clothing and such. The group has recently been attacking Jennifer Lopez, as her clothing line uses a generous amount of fur in its designs. I'm all for attacking J.Lo., if not simply because she seems to be getting way too full of herself, and this new game is an excellent way to spend an afternoon when one should be working. http://www.furisdead.com/feat/jlogame/ I'm serious, check it out. The idea is to free all the animals and educate all the workers in J.Lo.'s factory before she captures you. I've gotten so far as a couple animals yet to be saved, but Pamela is the superior player so far with getting to only one animal left. Also part of the fun is changing who you are, and what you look like, before setting out on your quest.

Snowflakes and new cats and icebergs, oh my!

It's officially winter in New England. There was a good-size snow storm Saturday into Sunday this past weekend, dropping a couple inches, and it's snowing again this morning. The weather reported that we'd have a huge blizzard today, but we didn't... or at least, we haven't yet. (This is a picture of a house and small park I pass on my way to work.) Yesterday morning, Dec. 5, was the first morning in which I had to scrape ice off my windshield this season. Yay. I guess it's time to break out the winter coats, hats, gloves and scarves.

I'm having a hard time coming up with gift ideas for Mom for Christmas. As she said yesterday, she's usually got a nice list and a few catalogs with corners folded over: a veritable cascade of gift ideas for myself and Brian. This year, so far: nothing. I spent some time thinking last night though and came up with a couple good ideas. (Not for nothing is my desire for a new iPod: one with color and video capabilities. I must be able to watch LOST on my iPod! Awesome!!) (This paragraph could be some kind of record for most properly used instances of the colon, too!)

They've discovered a new animal in the forests of East Kalimantan, in and around Borneo, called the red Bornean carnivore. Here's a picture of it. The eyes are reflecting the flash from the camera, and that's its long tail going up to the right. They say it's about the size of, or a bit bigger than, a cat. I love that scientists and explorers are finding new species of mammals and animals! I love that there are things in this world that we still know nothing about! I fear for their lives though, now that humans know they exist. I mean really, we pretty much destroy everything we touch.

Along those lines, some other scientists and explorers are saying that the Titanic broke up into three pieces instead of two, and that the great ship sank much faster than they had believed. My most favorite quote about the whole thing though comes from the guy would discovered the wreck in 1985. Said Robert Ballard, "They found a fragment, big deal. Am I surprised? No. When you go down there, there's stuff all over the place. It hit an iceberg and it sank. Get over it." The History Channel was the first to find and explore the new fragment.

They're legally hunting black bears in New Jersey. That sucks. Apparently, the bear population, after rebounding from numbers nearing extinction, is encroaching on the humans living nearby. I suppose that because they rebounded so well, it's time to start killing them again?

Holiday floral

My mom enjoys her floral class, and every week she comes home with something cool, pretty and interesting. Here is last week's arrangement, complete with some nifty-looking white birch.

Sick jumps

I tried snowboarding once, a few years ago, and discovered that, as a life-long skier, I just couldn't get it. The edge is different, and the body movement is different, and I just had a hard time grasping it. Brian's always been quite good at it, and of that, I'm jealous.
So yesterday, in my continuing bid for wife of the year, I accompanied my snowboarder to the movies to watch First Descent, a documentary following five snowboarders free riding in the Alaskan mountains, and the history and evolution of snowboarding in general. I was the only girl in the theater, and there were about 12 other guys there, including two guys about our age; a group of three or four teenagers; and two younger boys who had dragged along their dad.
The movie itself was better than I had thought it would be (though I was painfully aware of the two-hour length), and the mountains they glided through were beautiful. You really can't go wrong, when it comes to scenery, with a topic like snowboarding in Alaska.
What the movie did do was re-acquaint me with my own failure to learn this sport. I'm thinking that another lesson could do me well, as I'd love to be able to rip up the mountains the way these riders do. And what would be cuter than Brian and I boarding down a mountain with our own little riders following? That actually, is one of the reasons why I'd like to try it again.
This picture is one from the movie, of one of the boarders performing a sick jump.

It's beginning to look a lot like...

Christmas! I decorated our home for the holiday today! Wahoo!! (My anal-retentive rule is that the decorating must be done on the first Saturday of December--not a day before.)
This is a pain-staking and time-consuming activity that I thoroughly enjoy, simply because of the moment when everything is done and set out all pretty, and I can finally sit back and just look at it.
This year though, was a departure for me, in that Brian was home during the whole process. We usually try to work it so he's out at the library or seeing a patient while I decorate, simply because he (1.) gets in my way, and (2.) likes to be surprised by the Christmas explosion when he gets home. For him, the house just goes from normal to "Santa-terrific" while he's gone, and that preserves some of the magic to the holiday for both of us. But instead, he set up camp on the sofa all day, because really it was super cold out too, and watched the whole thing come to be. It made it less fun for him, and it kinda fried my nerves, simply because this process makes a huge mess, and takes a good four hours, and....well...I'd rather listen to Christmas carols and holiday CDs then college football.
So here are a couple of my favorite decorations for the holiday. The angel is actually a tree-topper that Mom bought me at the Price Club, back when it was the Price Club, which is at least 15 years ago. She plugs in, and has the most beautiful lights that glow from under her dress, and also moves her arms and wings in a most quiet, subtle and serene way. (Brian gets kinda creeped out by her, but I love her.) The stocking holders in the next picture are new, and the lights are there all year long, but I'm just really happy with how festive my mantle looks this year. Those are both mine and Brian's stockings.
Anyway, the whole place is very Christmas-y now, as is the pooch!
(Ack! A headless, tiny, barking, reindeer!! Flee!! Run for your lives!!!)

A funny thing happened...

So I hesitate to start this story like this, but the weirdest thing happened to me in the shower last night. A preface: Oliver doesn't like the bathroom door closed, so if it's the slightest bit ajar, he'll push his way in. If either of us are in the shower, he'll get up on his back legs, rest his chest and front legs along the tub, and peer at us around the shower curtain. Really, it's pretty cute. Yes, we splash him sometimes, but it's failed to discourage this behavior.
Last night, as I'm in there soaping, Ollie comes in the bathroom and hops up along the tub. In my conversing with him (you know, "What ya doing, you little pervert?" kind of stuff), I drop the soap. My first thought whenever this happens is to think of the sage advice given to every movie character going into prison, "Don't drop the soap." Anyway, it slips out my hands and the corner of this fresh bar of Lever 2000 bounces on the top of my foot and skitters along the tub floor. Um, ouch. I didn't really think too much of it until a couple minutes go by and my foot's still hurting. I mean, this is pretty random. By the time I'm out of the shower, my foot is starting to swell (no kidding!). I sheepishly tell Brian about the hurting foot, and show him the swelling, and am told in no uncertain terms that I'm a wimp made of glass. But seriously, my foot hurts.
Today, if you can believe it, there's a damn bruise on the top of my foot where ths soap hit it! This could go down as the most random bruise ever! Really! And the shoes that tie along the top of the foot aren't helping me at all either. I don't know how well you'll be able to see in either of the pictures, but there is a bruise there. Amy can verify, as I took my shoe and sock off to show her this afternoon while sharing the story.

Ack!

Like I don't pay enough money to Comcast already. The company, followed by all the other leech-like cable companies, is raising its rates by 6 percent next year. Grr. Brian and I were just grumbling about our $177 cable/internet bill last night, and now the bastards are going to raise the rates. Here's the link to the article, http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051202/ap_en_tv/cable_tv_rates. This is just not cool. (Before you all flip out, I'll tell you why our bill is so expensive. High-speed internet; one DVR cable box and another regular cable box in the bedroom; HBO and Cinemax; extended channels. B and I love the television.)

Here's a picture of the Obelisk of Buenos Aires, taken yesterday in recognition of World AIDS Day. Wrapped around it is the biggest pink condom ever.

Bad traffic

Traffic, I can handle. I mean, I've lived in Southern California, and I can handle traffic. There's no such thing really as bad traffic, because it's all bad, and it's all traffic. No one goes anywhere, and time does nothing but tick away.
This morning, as I cruised up onto Storrow Drive on my way to work, brake lights illuminated everywhere around me, and the cars came to a halt. It's notable because there is rarely traffic along this road in this direction, since I go against traffic to the workplace. But Storrow is one of those roads that once you get on, there are no offramps for a mile or so, and once you're on, you're on. The cars stopping and jockeying for position did not concern me so much -- as the traffic, like I said, I can handle.
It was the gas gauge screaming at me that there was no gas in the car that was worrying me. I knew, on my way home last night, that I would have to get gas this morning. (In a personality quirk exactly like my mother, I hate, absolutely hate, to get gas until the light comes on.) The light wasn't on yet when I hit this wall of traffic, but I knew that it was only a matter of minutes, and that if I ran out of gas in the midst of this traffic, the good people of Boston would kill me. No joke, they would end my life.
But more annoying than that was the fact that, having maneuvered into the traffic and started inching along, we, 20 minutes later, finally got to that point in the traffic where, for no apparent reason, the slow down just ends, and cars are able to speed up and go about their business at a regular clip. This is the aspect of traffic that bugs me more than anything. I mean, if I'm going to be sitting in the damn traffic, I want to see the reason why everyone slowed down in the first place! I want to see the carnage, the flat tire, the person getting the ticket, or even the fender bender! I want to know what made me later to work!! I do not accept that it was something that I couldn't see. I don't accept that!!
(By the way, the gauge light went on just as I was pulling into the gas station, and I was still late, but on a good note, hadn't been killed by an angry mob.)

I pity the fool who gets lost

This, seriously, could be the coolest thing that our new technology could come up with. According to an article on CNN.com today, and the companies it quotes, you can now buy celebrity voices for the GPS systems in your car. And yes, Mr. T is one of the voices up for sale. That, to me, is too hysterical. "Turn left in 500 feet, fool!" That's just funny. Mom's GPS has this irritating woman, with really no personality whatsoever, droning on and on about where the right turn is, how far it is until you reach your intersection or highway junction, and that we should turn around in a legal U-turn because we are obviously very lost. We've been trying to come up with a name for this lady, but have yet to agree on anything. (I suggested Gypsy, in what I considered a fit of brilliance, what with the "g," "p" and "s" in the name, but Mom kinda poo-pooed it.) Anyway, if we had Mr. T, or Burt Reynolds, who also lent his voice to a company, we'd not have to come up with a name at all. It would just be, "Whatever, Burt! We're going our own way!" or, "Shut up, Mr. T! It's all about us!!" And really, it's just a matter of time until they can manufacture anyone's voice for these programs. If one of these companies manages to figure out how to get Elvis to tell me I need to be ready to merge right, I'm all over it.

Panda cub!

This is giant panda cub Tai Shan, in his indoor enclosure at the National Zoo in Washington on Nov. 29. The four-and-a-half-month-old cub made his media debut today in front of 100 members of the press. Tai Shan will meet the general public on Dec. 8.