Random Wednesday-ness

A few things:

1. I've thrown myself to the wolves for you all, and I hope you appreciate it. I've been listening to Lindsay Lohan's new CD, A Little More Personal, on MTV.com this afternoon, and I have to tell you, it's not good. See the sacrifices I make to keep you all from hurting yourselves? It's a mixture of pop-awful and dance tunes on meds, with the exception of two covers: I Want You to Want Me, and Edge of Seventeen. It's no irony that the only two decent tracks are songs that other people have written and performed before.

2. We discussed "TV boyfriends" at lunch today, and I thought I'd let the world in on everyone's favorite crush. Sarah likes Julian McMahan from Nip/Tuck. Pamela is partial to Matthew Fox, far left, from Lost; Jamie Bamber from Battlestar Galactica; and Michael Vartan, formerly of the now-cancelled Alias. Nicole likes Michael Weatherly from NCIS. And me? Jason Bateman, near left, from Arrested Development (don't laugh!); Josh Duhamel from Las Vegas; and Matt Czuchry from Gilmore Girls (not quite as cute as Joshua Jackson, the crush-worthy Pacey from Dawson's Creek, but a close second).

3. Once again, Julia Roberts has been named to highest-paid actress in Hollywood. Really, I just don't get it. I like a couple of her movies, but rarely has one been worth its price in popcorn. (I still react violently to Ocean's Twelve's jumping the shark plotline.) So many others deserve to be making that kind of cash, including Kate Winslet, one of the best of our generation; Reese Witherspoon (when not making "Blonde" flicks); and Renee Zellwegger (who, I'm sure, has some hefty alimony checks to write to Mr. Kenny). Others in the highest-paid list include: Nicole Kidman, Charlize Theron, Jodie Foster, Reese and Renee, Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, Angelina Jolie, and Jennifer Aniston.

TSA relaxing rules

Does this mean I can carry my tweezers on board a plane again?
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051130/ap_on_go_ca_st_pe/tsa_sharp_objects

Hurricane season ends today

Finally! Hurricane season is officially over today! Has anyone told Mother Nature? Is she aware that she can stop beating the hell out of the Gulf Coast, and finally settle back down again? Jeez! What got her in such a mood this year?
Here's the final tally on this year's season (courtesy of the AP):
* In 154 years of record-keeping, this year had the most named storms (26, including Tropical Storm Epsilon, which formed Tuesday), the most hurricanes (13), the highest number of major hurricanes hitting the U.S. (4), and the most top-scale Category 5 hurricanes (3).
* Katrina was the deadliest U.S. hurricane since 1928 (more than 1,300 dead) and replaced 1992's Andrew as the most expensive one on record ($34.4 billion in insured losses).
* Total insured losses from hurricanes this year were put at $47.2 billion, above the previous record of $22.9 billion set last year when four hurricanes also hit the U.S., according to risk-analysis firm ISO.
* Wilma was briefly the most intense Atlantic hurricane on record in terms of minimum central pressure (882 millibars). It also was the fastest-strengthening storm on record — its top sustained winds increased 105 mph in 24 hours in the Caribbean.
* Forecasters exhausted their list of 21 proper names (Arlene, Bret, Cindy and so on) and had to use the Greek alphabet to name storms for the first time.

The dog party

My friend, Alison, has a sister that loves her dog, Macy. She treats Macy like a child, and just last night, hosted a party for the her first birthday. (You may not be able to see clearly, but the image on this piece of cake is actually of Macy in a "Happy Birthday" hat.) I asked Alison to write up a report on the party, and to submit it as the very first guest-written entry into the blog:

Little Macy wore a pink Swarovski diamond collar, and the gifts that she received included: a pink purse; a "whoopee" frog; teenie weenie greenies (dog treat); a Green baby doll (makes her sleep well); a family wall plaque, so she has a pic to remember them by; and a paw mug.
Macy's daycare providers--my sister's landlords--live downstairs, and were not so thrilled about these new squeakie toys, even though they ordered them from QVC for her. When we left, there were two more QVC boxes on the front step, so maybe Macy got a new SUV or computer.
My sister is concerned that Macy will pick up a fish allergy, even though her vet says to give her fish oil. I warned her about Macy kissing someone who just ate fish. Since she lives close to the Charles River, I think I may have given her something to worry about. She is going to have her pacemaker checked I bet, as I could see the stress in her face settling in just at the mention of her dog being sick.
We ate lasagna, salad, herb bread, cake, pie and at least five or six different appetizers. We all had to take turns squeaking Macy's new toys and rolling on the ground with her. Most attendees were dog lovers, and they talked about their Bassett hounds (one pushed Macy in the pool this summer); a chihuahua; a newfie; a bulldog; and a Stabyhoun, a Dutch hunting dog that looks like a retriever but is black and white.
One guy is getting two puppies shipped over from Holland to him in April. They will be eight weeks old, and still need a green card (who knew?).

I'll admit that Brian and I bought Oliver one of those Three Dog Bakery cakes for his first birthday, but really, it was a private celebration for the three of us. If I ever guilt you all into coming to a dog birthday party that I've spent all day preparing, commit me.

A couple different things

Mom and Howie took off this morning; their flight departed Logan at 7:30. Such a wonderful weekend, and I have my family to thank for it. It was a treat to spend time with Auntie Donna, Jess and Alex, and it's always a good time for me to hang with Mom and Howie. Brian was a dream husband the whole four days, and Oliver, of course, was a rock star. I'm completely and totally exhausted, and am excited to head home for more sleep tonight. Brian and I enjoyed the peace and quiet last night, that's for sure, and our first big night together tonight will be dinner at home (leftovers from last night) and football: good stuff.

While I was up and out of bed on time this morning, I did not stop at my commute-friendly Starbucks. I drank way too much peppermint mocha over the weekend, although my stomach would argue that, as it's feeling a bit neglected right now. And as if to tease me, there's an article about Starbucks in the news today. Well, not really about Starbucks, but about this guy, Winter, who is questing to visit every Starbucks in the world. Here's his Web site, http://www.starbuckseverywhere.net/. His favorite Boston-area Starbucks is the Tremont St. store in the South End (B's fave, too); and his record is visiting 29 stores in one day. I don't think even Auntie D. could do justice to that much coffee!

The un-adventure

I had a grand plan for our day today.
Mom, Howie, Brian and I were going to spend the day adventuring around Old Sturbridge Village, a working old-time village, complete with craftsmen, farming and the whole smash. The day started off a bit late, and Brian had to be arm-twisted into going, but by 11 or so, we were well on our way out into the western hills of Massachusetts. The drive took only an hour, but as we ventured west, the weather turned increasingly cloudy, and yes, we even spied small patches of snow on the ground. Upon our arrival in Sturbridge, as we exited the car, we were horrified to find out that the temperature had dropped by a good 20 degrees from the nice Boston morning we left behind. I, of course, had bypassed putting on longjohns for the day, as had Brian; Mom had only tights on under her jeans and the "not for snow" coat; and Howie, well, Howie seems to be taking blood-thinning medication, so he gets super cold super fast.
We ran into the Tavern and gift shop building to warm up, did some random shopping and then ate some lunch. Even sitting at the lunch table, we soundly debated whether the weather (which had turned a little snowy) was going to make this little day trip a bad idea.
Now, picture the four of us entering the Visitor Center and finding out that they wanted us to pay $20 each to walk around an old village, watching people blacksmith and farm, freezing our butts off. Mom and I have gone farther for more ridiculous adventures, but in this case, we decided that retreat would be our best option.
Gas out to Sturbridge and back to Boston: $15
Total amount of tolls: $7.30
Lunch in Tavern in Sturbridge: $45
Getting back to town with enough time before dinner for Mom and I to cruise Newbury Street: priceless (not really ... more like two tree ornaments and a scarf)

Plimouth Plantation

For our Turkey Day celebration, the family and I went out to the beautiful town of Plimouth, to enjoy our Thanksgiving feast at the place where the Mayflower landed, and presumably, the location of one of the first Thanksgivings. When I bought the tickets for our dinner on June 1 (they do sell out that quickly), we really had only a vague idea of what the day would entail.
We began our journey at about 11, and after a stop at Starbucks and for a soda, we were off onto the 93...a highway turned parking lot that morning. Traffic is a drag, especially when you've got someone following you, but once we got to the junction to the 3, we were in good shape. (Cause of traffic: three almost-spent flares from a previous accident.)
Upon arriving at Plimouth Plantation, we were told that we could adventure throughout the grounds, and were expected back to our dining room by at 2:15 p.m. Our first stop was a cheesy little orientation movie, that really didn't teach us much, and then we were released onto the grounds. The 1627 Pilgrim Village was pretty trippy. The costumed workers would only speak in the King's English, and knew nothing of anything past 1627. Don't ask them about television, they don't know what it is. Ask about the Mayflower, or about what they're cooking ("the humbles of a hog," I was told). Ask how long it takes to make an apron: "It's done when it's done, I suppose." Homes with thatched roofs and clay walls, a church building with cannons atop it, and the vegetable gardens were highlights.

Family-style table manners were the way of things at the T-giving dinner, which really meant that we had to wait for the people at the other end of the table to practically clear the turkey platter before we even got to touch it. The menu included: (cold) split pea soup that we ate anyway; escalloped oysters (basically just breaded snot); mashed potatoes; butternut squash; (dry) turkey; stuffing; cranberries; some kind of beet that Brian spit out faster than any kind of cooked carrot; and creamed onions that Howie deemed too onion-y. Dessert was a choice of pumpkin pie (Alex's favorite); Indian pudding (which Brian compared to pumpkin Cream of Wheat that looked like cat food with a dollop of whipped cream atop it); and apple pie (my choice, and the far superior dessert on the table). We did, however, get to take home our own complimentary posy.
Costumed characters came by each table for a chat; we met a retired whaler, a Yankee soldier, a woman who writes poetry and prides herself on her independence, and a guy that I only remember for his great purple coat.

Dinner was over by 4, and we were pretty efficiently rushed out so they could prepare for the 5:30 seating. Of course, the way out was via the gift shop, and after a few purchases, we made our way out to the cars to head back to town.
...and a good Thanksgiving was had by all!!

The insanity descends

The family is on its way here. Seriously, they're all coming to Boston: Mom and Howie are boarding their plane right now. Auntie Donna, Jess and Alex were so excited to come out today that they actually left Virginia last night, and as of 2 a.m. this morning, when they stopped to sleep, were in East Windsor, N.J.
It's been several years since we've been together for Thanksgiving, and though it's not all of us, we should still have a good time.


Here's a picture of the national Thanksgiving Turkey, named Marshmallow, during the Presidential pardoning ceremony, Nov. 22, 2005.
"You, my friend, are saved...until next year."

Actually, what does happen to the turkeys that are pardoned? They certainly don't know that they dodged a bullet (or ax). Do they appreciate it? They aren't aware that they could have been keeping a platter warm, all full of stuffing and gently glazed in melted butter. They have no idea that some ruffian could be pulling off their leg and sinking his teeth into their thigh muscle. (Okay. I'm not liking this train of thought, actually, so let's be done.)
Anyway, Marshmallow has no worries.

Frickin' illness: Take 2

I've been remiss in my posting today, and I'm sorry to say that it's because my frickin' cold is back (add drum roll here) with a vengeance. My nose is plugged, and all my words end in "d," whether I want them to or not. This sucks something wicked.
I'm hoping to get a decent night's sleep tonight, but we'll see!
Mwah!!!

Megan's wedding

There's something to be said for the beauty of an autumnal wedding and a happy bride. My friend, Megan, got married Saturday night, and it was a breath-taking event. She was glowing, as brides do, and her new husband, Tim, was clearly enamored and floating on air the entire night. As far as I could tell, the whole thing was a success. The venue, a private ladies' club, was perfect, and added an old-world charm to the intimate setting. As for colors, Megs used the deep reds, browns and coppers, making for a stunning color scheme. (Andy did the same for her wedding a few years ago.) And props to the bride for finding a color, deep brown, that would flatter each of her bridesmaids.
Observation #1: Only a few things can really succeed in making me feel old lately. One of those things is the growing up and maturing of my friends' younger siblings. Megan's sister, Allison, who's about two years younger than us, was so grown up, beautiful and sophisticated, and such a charmer, that it was a struggle to reconcile her with the young girl that she used to be. (I bet she'd love to know that!) We all grow up, and I appreciate that, but when I see a younger sibling become such an engaging adult, it's always a swift kick in the psyche.
Observation #2: Weddings are no fun without the person you're married to. Brian had school things and patient commitments, and that's fine, but I would really have liked for him to have been there. I had no one to dance with really, and, well, weddings make you feel all gooey about your own wedding, and my groom was nowhere in sight. They even played our own "first dance" song. (Insert pout here.)
Observation #3: Not all maps are to scale. I thought that since the map in the invitation implied that the PCH was one block over from 3rd Street, that the PCH was, in fact, one block from 3rd Street. So I entered the wrong intersection into the GPS. We got lost; I had to run into a Jack-in-the-Box to find out which way to go; and we were a bit late getting there. My bad. The ceremony was later too, though, so we still got there in time. (PCH and 3rd Street are about a mile apart.)
Observation #4: The best of friends continue to be the best of friends. We figured it out, and Megs and I have been friends for 22 years. We only were in school together for two years (5th and 6th grades), but have managed to stay important to each other throughout several geographic separations, months without communicating, and years of not seeing each other. I love that, even though we'd not been in the same room since my wedding in 2001, we're able to hug, gossip and giggle, and feel as though the years were just an hour. It's always been so with us, though, and I am thankful for that.
Observation #5: I can eat three wedding cake pieces' worth of chocolate frosting.

Stinky seatmates

Things in this world that are worse than most other things, Kimberly's list: not picking up your dog's poop when out on a walk; rudeness to waitstaff; people washing windshields on the highway; shoppers leaving books out of alphabetical order on the Barnes & Noble shelves. Of course, the worst of all these things is the stinky seatmate on an airplane. Why is it that the last couple times I've flown somewhere, I've been stuck in my comfortable window seat with a large, smelly guy next to me, wheezing his bad breath all over me, and leaning into my space so he can see out the window? Here's my thing, Mr. Pitstains; if you want to look out the window, get a window seat. I get my window seat early enough, and so should you. And buy some Altoids for goodness sakes! Don't you know how bad your odor is? Thus went my flight today. Hours in my window seat, being imposed on by the stinky seatmate.

Here's a pretty picture of some Orcas (a mother and new baby born at Sea World-San Diego). I read the other day that the Orcas in Puget Sound were going to be put on the Endangered Species list. Their dwindling numbers are a shame. I've always loved the Orca, even in that movie with Richard Harris and Bo Derek, where the whale kills all those people. They're so beautiful and majestic, and like the penguin, always attired properly for a formal event.

Planes, software and near misses

Leave it to the Boston Globe to publish an article on Logan airport's outdated computer software, faulty warning systems and three near misses on runways in the last year, the day before I fly out of here for the weekend. Great. And the picture is even better, yes? Those are Aer Lingus and US Airways planes that came within 106 vertical feet, and 379 horizontal feet, of each other this past June. Had the US Airways pilots been taking off, as they were instructed to by ground control, this image would be followed by more horrific ones. Instead, the US Airways pilots noticed the huge plane barreling towards them on an adjacent runway, and stayed on the ground. (They were, rightly so, rewarded for their actions, even though there must have been one or two passengers on the plane that pitched a fit for any delay.) The article goes on to point out that new and better software for ground collision warnings is on the NTSB's agenda for Logan, and a band-aid system has been put in place, but that the permanent upgrade probably is not going to happen for a couple years. Logan and 13 other national airports are on the short-and-immediate list for those upgrades.
(Note to self: don't mention this post to Mom.)

Pooch pic #1

Here's Oliver, having been awakened yet still laying about on the bed pillows, waiting patiently for me to quit bugging him.

Two cents

Can you hear it? It's a country-wide indrawn breath of indignation, anger and disbelief over the news that first-class postage is increasing in price...by $.02 per letter. Right now, scores of little old ladies are scrambling into their crochetted shawls, hauling out their containers of pennies, and heading down to their local post office so they can buy the required 2-cent stamps that they'll need until they finish with the $.37 stamps they've already got. There, they will swap stories about the "good old days," when sending a letter cost only a nickel (and those Pony Express young men who were so dashing), and how people today don't understand the value of a dollar, and how, well, if they listened to their grandkids, they'd have a computer and the ability to send a letter without a stamp.
The increase goes into effect January 8, 2006.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051115/ap_on_go_ot/postal_rates

H.P. 4

It's finally here! The week leading up to the release of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is upon us, and what a splendid week it is! The skies were sunny yesterday, and the breeze (relatively) warm. I'm checking out my crystal ball with Professor Trelawney, and all seems well!
Of course, as I'll be out of town for a friend's wedding, Brian and I won't be able to see it until early next week. (I'm thinking Monday night, actually.) That, in itself, is a complete drag, but I've got this wicked premonition that the movie will still be available for viewing after this weekend.
This particular installment is the first in the series to be rated any higher than PG (it boasts a PG-13), and looks like it's got the action and thrills to need it. For those of you cool kids out there that have read the books, you know what all goes down this year at Hogwarts, and it should be a great ride!