The Devil Wears Prada

I went to the theatres at Bridgeport Village today and caught The Devil Wears Prada, starring Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway. I'm a HUGE Meryl Streep fan and after viewing the trailers I knew I would love Ms. Streep in this role. From the perfectly coiffed hair to the stunning outfits, Streep is visually stunning and wonderfully wicked.

I haven't read the book yet so I don't know how faithful the movie is to the novel. The story follows Andy, a young woman in New York who is chasing her dream to become a journalist. She obtains a highly sought after assistant position, to legendary editor-in-chief Miranda Priestley at a leading fashion magazine, and her world explodes. It's cliché but as Andy becomes more involved with her work and the fashion world in which she lives, she loses sight of her friends, family, and all those other important things, including her sense of self.

Now I think Anne Hathaway is cute and I thoroughly enjoyed her in The Princess Diaries but she is no match for Ms. Streep. And Streep, whose effortless performance has you suddenly rooting for the boss from hell instead of sympathizing with the victims of her sharp retorts and blunt, no nonsense expectations, is fantastic. Every word uttered, every glare bestowed, every movement represents all that is evil but all that we strangely admire. She's ballsy and ruthless and cunning and totally entertaining.

Of course, Andy matures and learns a thing or two about the world. And the boss we believed had no heart is revealed to have hidden depths. It should be noted that Stanley Tucci is outstanding in his role as Miranda's fashion director and the only person in the office that appears to like Andy. He dubs her "6" after she confesses that she's a size 6, unlike the 0s, 2s, and 4s of the fashion world. And Emily Blunt, who plays Miranda's first assistant and Andy's "mentor," is curt and rude and totally likeable because she's so damn bitchy.

If you visit the movie's web site, there's a cool little game called Hell Boss where you can build your boss with accessories like whips and guns and environments like the office and burning in eternal hellfire. It's a good way to rid yourself of some work-related hostility. Here's one of my past bosses. Yep, he's eating a chicken leg and losing his hair.

Apple Rum Marinated Pork Chops

Thyme Management has been redeemed. The apple rum marinated pork chops were fantastic. Great flavor, juicy and tender chops with a side of basmati rice. Yummy! So, for the one person I know is interested in hearing about the meals, here's where things stand...

Lip smacking -
Tilapia Mediterranean Style
Apple Rum Marinated Pork Chops

Solidly good -
Caesar Marinated Chicken Breasts (Darr didn't like these as much as I did)

Mediocre but with potential for greatness -
Stuffed Shells Florentine

Disappointing -
Bourbon & Brown Sugar Glazed Beef Kabobs

Introducing Loolababy

My friend and ex-coworker Leah has created a new blog that is totally cool, particularly since Darr and I are considering possibly trying to attempt to start a family some day in the distant future and we are into the modern style of decor as of late. It's called Loolababy and Leah uses it as a place to write about all of the trendy, modern things she finds for babies. She also links to several cool parent-type blogs (one I recommend she check out is Daddy Daze), highlights books for both babies and parents, and recommends tunes for kids. My favorites on her site right now include the Goofy Felt Music Box, the Crane Frog Humidifier, and the Ooba Bassinet. Great job, Leah. I can't wait to see what you find next!

Evening Conversation

Me: "Okay. If you can't speak, you're mute. If you can't hear, you're deaf. If you can't see, you're blind. What are you if you can't smell?"

Darren: "Hmmm?"

Me: "Or taste? What if you can't taste?"

Darren: "You're dumb."

Me: "What?"

Darren: "If you can't speak, you're dumb."

Me: "If you can't speak, you're mute."

This isn't necessarily an excuse but we had just finished playing a wicked game of tennis and it is likely we were both suffering from dehydration, hence this conversation. Once home, I did a little research and discovered that "mute" and "dumb" are offensive terms when used to refer to persons incapable of speech. My apologies.

Lucy Sale!

Woohoo - sales are awesome! The other day I got one of the all-too-frequently-sent e-mails from Lucy advertising yet another sale. I happened to be in the area having lunch with my friend Sharon so I stopped by to check out the goods. And thank God for that as they are having a fantastic sale. I got the Perfect Hoodie, a regular tee, and one of their Energy Tees for the ridiculously low price of $48.97. At normal prices the same three items would have cost me a whopping $112, which means a savings of over $63!

So, let's see...I now have new shoes, new workout gear, and Darr and I are prepping our bedroom for the addition of the treadmill. We finally figured out that I just won't train if Darr's in the room and since he works in his office where the treadmill is currently parked for the better part of the day I haven't been running. Our solution to the problem that is contributing to the expanding size of my ass is to move the treadmill from his office to our bedroom, where I can run to my heart's content while watching various episodes of Grey's Anatomy over and over and over again. There's nothing like watching Dr. McDreamy to motivate you, eh? With approximately four months to prepare for my second half-marathon (I'm too wimpy to do the full marathon. 26 miles - are you f---ing kidding me?!) in San Francisco, this change should help me get back in shape.

Five Quarters of the Orange

Five Quarters of the Orange earns a 2.5. This book is phenomenal, even though the math in the title made Darr cringe. The tale of Framboise Simon is parceled into past and present excerpts that are delicately balanced throughout the novel, which is conveniently divided into five sections. The story is cyclical, young grow old and those that are old experience rebirths, old loves die and new loves are found, truth turns to deceit and deceit turns to truth - all of this while the seasons change, themselves slaves to the natural cycle of life. The prose is a veritable feast for the eyes with imagery that incites a range of emotions and often, particularly during parts where cooking and food is discussed, excites the palate.

An older Framboise returns to the beloved countryside of her youth cloaked in a new name. What made her flee and caused her to reappear years later is a large part of the mystery contained on the pages within. At the center of it all are the details of Framboise's ninth year - the war and German occupation, her infatuation for a soldier on the wrong side, the struggle for control, her mother's strange aversion to oranges, a recipe book filled with secrets to be discovered, a weird language of reversed words, nonsense prefixes and suffixes and inverted syllables (e.g., "Ini tnawini inoti plainexini." = "I want to explain."), and an elusive fish who's capture is believed to grant wishes.

A Year Already?

Holy schnikes, it's been a year already! Darr and I were married last year on June 25 in the small white church less than a block away from our house. To celebrate surviving our first year, we dropped Beauty the wonder dog off at Uncle Nick's and hit the road in Sophie the Mini Cooper. Since we are both procrastinators we didn't make plans in advance. Translated this means we didn't have anything booked or figured out beforehand, which can lead to some stress and anxiety, but luckily it all turned out fabulously - even with the super hot temperatures over the weekend. We stayed Friday night at the Columbia Gorge Hotel. Thankfully, they had a room available for us when we rolled up around 10pm. The staff was courteous and helpful, delivering champagne glasses and plates and forks (for our champagne and chantilly cake from Piece of Cake) to our room, which we then carried back downstairs and consumed outside, sitting on a wooden swing overlooking the Columbia River. Even the swooping bats seemed somehow romantic. Okay, that's not true. Bats are never romantic. I lied.

The following morning we ate the World Famous Farm Breakfast. Really this meal is comprised of enough food to feed a small nation. We did our best to plow through it with the appropriate level of gusto and enthusiasm. It's a lot of food. Seriously. A lot. Shortly after breakfast was done, we walked around the hotel grounds a little and Darr got bit by a tick. We discovered the little bugger when we went back to our room to grab our gear and check out. Again, the fabulous hotel staff was on hand to help - a good thing as I was/am ill-equipped to handle, well, anything involving ticks.

De-ticked and with bags in hand, we jumped into Sophie, got back on I-84, and headed east. Before noon we stopped at the Maryhill Museum of Art in Washington and spent some time roaming around the air-conditioned museum before driving a few miles away to walk around Washington's very own version of Stonehenge. (Probably not as cool as the real thing, eh?) Then it was back on the road, traveling to nowhere in particular. Sometime around 2pm we left the main road and turned onto one of those scary gravel BLM roads that lead to nowhere. Our nowhere was along the Deschutes River. It was hot, damn hot, so hot you could do a little crotchpot cooking (I swiped that last one from Good Morning, Vietnam). We manufactured shade using the rain cover for our tent and then napped, dangled our feet in the cold, cold water, played cards, read our books, ate, and eventually became so overheated we dipped our shirts in the water (it was too cold and too rapid-like to just jump in) and then put the wet shirts back on to cool ourselves. This process worked so successfully we used it throughout the rest of the day. Awww, refreshing...

Sunday morning, we drove down to Bend, ate another insanely large breakfast, and headed for home. Sophie the Mini is a great car for road trips. I highly recommend buying one should you be a fan of the open road. Pics from our trip can be seen by clicking here. So now, we're a day into year two. 364 days left.

Side note: Darren didn't take the bait on the one-year anniversary band, which I suppose is okay as there isn't really an anniversary band until year two.

This Heat is Hot

How I Became Stupid

How I Became Stupid earns a 3. It was a pleasant stroll through the mind of an intellectual who believes the only way he'll find happiness is to become stupid. How does one become stupid? Antoine tries alcoholism, considers suicide, and ends up as a stock broker - where he is finally able to escape his highly-evolved mind and join the rest of the happy masses. Think Flowers for Algernon in reverse. With a little bit Holden Caulfield and a dash of Candide, the protagonist is both pitiable and lovable. The novel is oft humorous to the point of absurdity, but its message is resoundingly clear - I'm just not going to tell you what that message is. You'll have to read it for yourself.

Bourbon & Brown Sugar Glazed Beef Kabobs

Darr and I grilled the kabobs (another course from Thyme Management) for lunch yesterday. The meat was tender but there was a taste that was just, well, off. I can't figure out if there was too much bourbon or if it was the green onion...whatever it was, it wasn't great. What have I learned so far? That with a little forethought and a good half a day in the kitchen, I can probably prepare dishes in advance that are more to my liking to shove in the freezer for later.

My Husband and I Are Not...

the equivalents of Andre Agassi and Anna Kournikova when we hit the tennis courts. For starters, I'm neither blond nor Russian and Darr's neither bald nor American. But that's not where the differences end. We just don't have that primal instinct for guiding the ball via our racket to go where we want it too. I'm a lobber, meaning I consistently hit the ball in a high arc (but, funny enough, also means "to move heavily or clumsily" - I looked it up). And Darr, well, I guess you'd describe him as a shorter. His ball, at least when he serves, moves purposefully to the net...and then it hits the net and falls to the ground on his side. Believe me, our skill levels are the same, we just have different skills. This, of course, makes it considerably more incredible that we're able to volley the ball back and forth at all, which we were able to do by the end of our 45-50 minute session this morning at the courts at Sellwood Park. Beauty the wonder dog was sort of miffed that we tied her to the bench on the sidelines as she clearly saw the bouncing fuzzy balls as her play toys and was distressed that we were playing and she was not included in the game. We hope a short shift of hard play at the park before tomorrow's game will help alleviate some of her anxiety over our game. Although, it's totally possible I'm simply misreading her and that she is actually distressed because we clearly suck so bad at tennis. It's difficult to say for sure.

Side note: Let's talk about "scope creep". Now, those of you involved with projects that have set goals (this is the "scope") are familiar with the fun that can result when goals are "shifted" to allow for extra items to be added (and this is the "creep") to the project. Darr and I experienced a little scope creep last night. Our goal (or the scope) for our project - to purchase a tennis racket and extra tennis balls so we could play tennis in the morning before work. The creep happened when we arrived at G.I. Joe's to find some clearance racks. Um, how do you fight those? You can't. You jump in to the scope creep pool and start swimming. Our scope creep cost us about $120 more than expected, but to be fair we did find some truly great deals. I got two tee-shirts, a sweater, and a hat for my dad, Darr got an Adidas jacket, a biking jersey, and a tee-shirt, and Beauty the wonder dog got an Oregon Ducks dog collar.

You Can Call Us "Distie"

We can't seem to get away from the name merging. I blame Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck - the ones responsible for inspiring this crazy phase. What is name merging? For the two people left on this planet that haven't been exposed, name merging is the combining of two names into one. Still not following? Here's an example:

Jennifer Lopez + Ben Affleck = Bennifer

It's stupid, annoying, and irritating on a level not experienced since What About Bob? And it seems to be a fad that is going to stick around for a while, as evidenced by the continued merging of celebrity names (e.g., Brangelina, Jennivaughn). I am powerless to stop it. Or am I? Perhaps, if we saturate the market with as many merged names as possible, people will come to their senses. The campaign starts here folks. I took the liberty of scrolling through my address book and merging names of my friends to get things rolling.

Anjy + Eric = Anic
Rick + Anya = Ranya
Sharon + Richard = Sharard
Petar + Svetla = Petla
Leah + Dan = Lan
Ann + Raymond = Annmond
Darwin + Adrienne = Adriwin
Jyla + Bobby = Jyby
Tanya + Mark = Tanark
Sara + Josh = Sosh
Tiffany + Jeremy = Jiffany

As for Darren and myself, you can call us "Distie".

Tilapia Mediterranean Style

Our third entree from Thyme Management was really tasty. The best part of this meal, from my perspective, was the easy clean-up. Because the baking sheet is lined with foil, once you're done cooking you just gather up the foil and toss it in the garbage. Nice. The tilapia was flaky with a strong herb-y green taste, combined with a semi-vinegar flavor from the kalamata olives and salty goodness from the capers. There are seven meals left.

New Shoes, Dog Walking, & Downtown

In order to break in my new shoes, Beauty the wonder dog and I walked downtown this morning. Living next to the Springwater-Willamette trail (the section of the Springwater Corridor that parallels the river) definitely has its advantages. Beaut and I took off early and strolled into town. There is a loop that takes you downtown on the east side and back to Sellwood on the west but we were fearful of taking the dog across the old Sellwood bridge for two reasons - (1) it gets a lot of foot and bike traffic and (2) the bridge sidewalk is narrow. So, when Beauty and I finally arrived at the Willamette Park off of Macadam, I called Darr to come and pick us up. Before you start thinking I'm super lazy I should write that we did walk somewhere between 8 and 10 miles. The shoes worked great, by the way. The Pegasus line from Nike has been around for the past 20+ years and I'm guessing it is because they are ultra comfortable, über supportive shoes. I expect the treadmill work will be better than ever with these kickass shoes on my feet.

Oh, along the way I got some cool shots, including one great pic of our super happy dog.

Jury Duty

A few weeks ago I got the court summons to appear for jury duty so this morning I packed a small bag with some reading material and my iPod and headed to the courthouse downtown to fulfill my civic duty.

7:40 - arrive at Multnomah County Courthouse
7:52 - pass through security and arrive at second line to get into the jury waiting room
8:04 - locate available seat and open the book (I'm in the midst of "Hoot")
8:20 - a judge comes to explain how we jurors are the most important "cog in the wheel of democracy" yadda, yadda, yadda
8:43 - my first small jury duty nap commences
9:00 - a man calls the first 45 names for the grand jury, my name is not called (whew!)
9:15 - finish my book and flip through the latest Sunset magazine
10:00 - discover there are couches in the back of the room and move to one of them
10:30 - listen to iPod, notice that soccer is still on t.v. but that a woman now has the remote control and appears to be channel surfing, the men are annoyed and fearful
10:33 - the woman has, perhaps in the interest of self preservation, selected another sports channel
10:35 - open up the second book (entitled "How I Became Stupid") and begin reading
11:30 - the old lady that coordinates the jurors comes to the podium to announce we are no longer needed and are able to leave for the day
11:34 - mass exodus as we file out
11:40 - enter Niketown
12:02 - leave Nike with a new pair of running shoes

And that concludes my downtown day at the courthouse.

Carlyle

After visiting Gavin and the family out at Legacy Emanuel, Darr, his dad, and I stopped off for some dessert at Carlyle. Darr and I have only eaten here once before but this second trip gave us the same great service and food, suggesting either this is the norm for them or we've been lucky on both visits. The dessert menu offers a variety of treats for every palate, a good thing as each of us was longing for something different. Here's what we had -

Jim (Darr's dad) - Fresh Toasted Coconut Cream Tart with Golden Plum Sauce
Darr - Prosecco Gelée with Fresh Mixed Berries
Me - Strawberry Rhubard Tart with Housemade Hazelnut Praline Ice Cream

Hats off to the pastry chef, Steven Smith, clearly a talented master of desserts.

Baby Update

As promised, here is a pic of the little guy.

Stuffed Shells Florentine

Our second entree from Thyme Management was a tad disappointing. The sauce was solidly good, the pasta cooked well, the preparation was not difficult, but the cheese filling was bland. I tried to spice it up with some salt, my fix-everything spice, but even that didn't pull this dish together. Was it bad? No. But it wasn't nearly as good as I expected it would be. Perhaps I missed some key ingredient, I did drink quite a bit in a rather short amount of time, and that is the real reason this entree failed to excite us.

Baby Shower for The Noodle

This afternoon, Mel hosted a baby shower for our friend Sara. I went over to Tan's place before the shower to scrapbook but we ended up mostly chatting instead of getting any scrapbooking done. We headed to NE Portland to Mel's place for the event around 2:30pm and after some rather haphazard driving through Mel's neighborhood we arrived. (Thanks for navigating, Tan.)

Mel decorated her place with pink helium-filled balloons (my favorite!) that floated along the ceiling. There was a spread of tasty vittles for her guests, including these great sesame crackers I'll have to get the name of and some perfectly luscious strawberries. The cake, I think it was called Seventh Heaven, came from JaCiva's and was super tasty. We sat outside on Mel's patio, it was a gorgeous day, and chatted with mom-to-be Sara while she opened her gifts. It should be noted that Sara's shirt said "Goddess with a Bump". Perfect, eh? The Noodle got a number of super cute clothes, a bib, a diaper bag, some toys - ducks seemed to be a major theme, no surprise there as the Noodle's parents are huge Duck fans - a blanket, a cool hat from Africa, and books. After opening a Dr. Seuss classic, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, Sara indulged her friends with an impromptu reading.

I finally got the pics up on our web site so now anyone interested can click here to view them.

Fortune Cookie Messages from my Monitor

1. Your work interests can capture the highest status or prestige.
< Uh, ok. >

2. Beautiful things await you.
< That's better. >

3. You are a person of imaginative, yet honest intentions.
< Thank you! >

Welcoming Gavin Mekhi

Another member of the PLIK club gives birth! Jyla, Darr's sister and my sister-in-law, went to the hospital today for a C-section. All went smoothly and now mom, baby Gavin, and pop are all doing well. I'm amazed at the efficiency of the process. Jyla walked from her suite to the birthing room across the hall at about 3:05pm. The doctor administered a shot in her back to numb her from the waist down around 3:10. The C-section began at 3:20pm and five minutes later the baby was born. Weighing in at 7 lbs, 6 oz, with a height of 21 inches, Gavin came into the world with a fine set of vocals, as evidenced by the film Bobby shot with his camera while in the delivery room. No pics yet (I forgot my camera at home), but I will have some up shortly. Welcome to the family baby Gavin!

Thyme Management

Would you like to prepare healthy gourmet style entrees for your family in two hours or less? This is the question posed on the home page of the Thyme Management Supper Club. My friend Sara decided to give this a try and asked if I was interested in joining her. I was. So last night, we drove out to NW Portland, tied on our aprons, and made some meals.

Here’s how it works: The chef and her staff prepare all of the Ziploc freezer bags in advance, individually labeling each one with the meal name, preparation methods, and cooking instructions. Tables in the main room, where the meal construction takes place, are stocked with the ingredients for each meal, along with the measuring utensils and bowls (for mixing, if needed). The recipe is typed in a large, easy to read font, which is great if there is any level of alcoholic consumption (yes, I was drinking). You find the Ziploc bag for the recipe that’s on the table and begin preparing the meal. In minutes, you’ve whipped up an entree that can then be thrown into the freezer to be taken out and enjoyed at a later date.

Sara and I used the buddy system when creating our meals, charging through the recipes with lightning quick speed as ingredients were thrown into one bag and then the other. But it worked well and we clearly kicked the asses of the two other girls in the room that were super slow, even though they’d participated in the club before.

Oh, you have the option to get the Standard Meal Plan (4-6 generous servings per entree) or the Metro Plan (2-3 generous servings per entree). Sara and I both opted for the Metro Meals. Good thing, too. With as much crap that is already stacked in my freezer I wouldn’t have had room for all of that food. Our menu included the following:

Apple Rum Marinated Pork Chops
Apricot Glazed Chicken
Bourbon & Brown Sugar Glazed Beef Kabobs
Caesar Marinated Chicken Breasts
Homestyle Macaroni & Cheese
Pork Chile Verde
Southwestern Taco Pot Pie
Stuffed Shells Florentine
Tilapia Mediterranean Style
White Bean Chicken Chili

Here’s what my husband should know - I used almost every ingredient that was offered, this includes dry mustard and anchovies. However, when it came time to slap some yellow condiment nasty Dijon mustardness grossosity (my word, pronounced “gross-ah-city”), I declined to add this ingredient to the mix. As the great thinker Bobby Brown once said, “It’s my perogative. I can do what I want to do. It’s my perogative.” Words to live by, for sure.

I should probably report that when I got home Darr and I were both a little curious and a tad hungry so we whipped out one bag, the Caesar Marinated Chicken Breasts, and started cooking ourselves a late night dinner.

Initially, there was some concern from Darr because the cast iron pan seemed to just be burning the marinade but it actually turned out really good. The meat was tender and juicy with a very noticeable Caesar-like taste - garlicky, lemony goodness. This particular dish gets a two-thumbs up from this gal. Next up on the list to try - Stuffed Shells Florentine.

The Annunciation of Francesca Dunn

The Annunciation of Francesca Dunn earns a 3. I seem to be reading a lot of books that fall close to this rating as of late. The story chronicles the life of a seemingly ordinary girl who is pegged as the Virgin Mother by a homeless man one afternoon. When "miracles" take place in her presence, the hangers-on are right there to declare their love and devotion. But Francesca is just a young girl, not yet understanding the motivations behind her fans or her own susceptibility to groupthink.

Turn on the Lights

So, I'm driving and I noticed something I've noticed a million times before only today it causes me to think "I should blog this" and now I'm here doing exactly that.

Here's the thing folks, I know if you're driving a 1986 Yugo, turning on your lights during the day probably does cause you to lose a noticeable amount of power. But when you're in your shiny new champagne-colored Lexus, I'm guessing you could be running everything at the same time while charging your laptop via the cigarette lighter and still have enough juice to drive down the road at a higher-than-average speed.

Why am I complaining about what you do? Why do I care? I can't see you. It's that simple. When it is raining and the skyline is any shade of gray and/or brown (almost like dusk, eh?) and you are driving sans lights and your car happens to be any one of the following colors (white, gray, silver, taupe, champagne, charcoal, etc.) you blend right into the background. I can't see you.

I know you can see the road. I know you can see the buildings. I know it is officially day. None of these things change the fact that when I'm driving down the road in these conditions and quickly glance at my mirrors or perform the oh-so-popular over-the-shoulder glance, you don't stand out. And if I can't see you because you don't stand out, I'm more likely to hit you because I don't find out you're there until a second before impact.

Am I just a bad driver? Possibly. I had an accident in 1998 (?) but there was ice involved. Does my eyesight suck? Not really. I've got 20/20 vision and don't suffer from color blindness. I guess what I'm trying to say is "Hey, help me not hit you. Turn on your lights."

Don't believe me? Try this out the next time you find yourself on the road at dawn/dusk under similar conditions:
Note: Your number one focus should be on safely driving your car. If you can't multi-task, don't do this.

1. Drive down the road with your lights on.
2. Watch the cars driving in the opposite direction.
3. In the line of cars you are watching, review which cars you tend to notice first.
4. Keep track of cars that appear to notice you are on the road.

I'm not for the government mandating we all turn our lights on. I just think you should turn your lights on because it prevents me from hitting you. I don't want to hit you. I like you. Unless you're one of those punk drivers, in which case I think you should be taken off the road altogether.

The Anxiety of Everyday Objects

The Anxiety of Everyday Objects earns a 3. This book can best be summed up using one of its own sentences: "Once upon a time there was a blind girl, and then she was gone." The main protaganist, Winona, is a 20-something year old secretary at a law firm who wishes to become a filmmaker. Her world changes when a mysteriously seductive blind female attorney named Sandy is hired at her firm. When the author has Winona secretly video taping Sandy in an almost obsession-based manner, it was a little uncomfortable for this reader - who wants to be filmed without giving consent? With some office politics, sex, and betrayal thrown in, this book has enough to keep most readers of this genre entertained.

Quiz Time

Quiz brought to you by Leah.

Three names you go by
1. Christie
2. Sweetpea/Peasweet (Darr)
3. Mom (Ellie, Mabel & Beauty the wonder dog)

Three things that scare you
1. Dick Cheney
2. condiments
3. movies (that are supposed to be scary)

Three of your everyday essentials
1. Frédéric Fekkai Glossing Cream
2. Philosophy "Falling in Love" body lotion
3. loves and cuddles from Darr and the kids

Three things you are wearing right now
1. yellow Livestrong bracelet
2. Lucy spa pants
3. Be a Smart-Donkey. Vote Democratic socks from the Sock Guy

Three things you need in a relationship (other than love)
1. support
2. laughter
3. cuddles

Two truths and a lie
1. I like tuna fish sandwiches.
2. I had a crush on my math teacher in high school.
3. I am a nudist.

Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeal to you
1. hands
2. eyes
3. butt

Three of your favorite hobbies
1. reading
2. going to the dog park
3. outdoor activities

Three things you want to do really badly right now
1. drink another beer
2. shop
3. go camping

Three new places you want to go
1. Africa
2. Ireland
3. Boston

Three things you want to do before you die
1. be a mom
2. skydive
3. swim with dolphins

Three way that you are stereotypically a girl/guy
1. I can be a little emotional.
2. I nag.
3. I am often bitchy.

Three things that annoy you
1. bad drivers
2. friends who don't r.s.v.p. to parties
3. people who answer cell phones in the movie theatre

Helium Movie

(moi + helium balloon) + (darr + digital camera) = helium movie

Click here to view the first of what will eventually be an infinite collection of home movies.

Please disregard the still-in-construction-mode condition of our future web site. I've been playing with iWeb and this is all I've had time to do.

Strawberries

Oregon strawberries are here! I mean, well, they were always here, they're Oregon strawberries, but now they are in the stores and ready for consumption. I don't think Darr understands my love of Oregon strawberries. It isn't that Oregon strawberries taste better, although they do, it's everything else that makes them great. Growing up, my mom would take us out to this one farm in St. Paul every year around this time. The u-pick sign was staked by the road and as you drove up to the house the strawberry boxes were piled by the scale. It was always the same. We sampled the berries as we picked them, of course. As far as I'm concerned there is no other way to pick berries. And for just a second you'd think, as you lugged your box overflowing with berries to the scale, that the work was done. But it wasn't. Picking the berries was just the beginning. Because as soon as we got home, there were trips to the store for pectin. And there was washing the berries and removing the stems and cutting the berries and boiling the berries and... Mom always kept a huge Tupperware bowl full of cut berries, lightly sweetened with sugar, for strawberry shortcake, which we'd eat as soon as the jam was all made and in the freezer. Yep, those were good times. All this to say that no, I don't get particularly excited when California strawberries come to town, but I sure do like those Oregon berries.

San Jose: To Hate or Not To Hate

It's not San Jose's fault, the poor city probably doesn't even realize what it's doing. But one week a month, this place steals my husband from me. < grumble, grumble >

Do you know what happens when my husband is out of town? When he is gone, he is no longer here to pick up the dog crap. No, that unfortunate task that stems from dog ownership is left to me. Believe me, folks, I already have my hands full of crap. We've got two cats. You might not think they would produce a lot of crap, but they do. The little bastards are surprisingly full of crap.

So, yes, I hate San Jose because of the dog crap it leaves behind in Portland.

On the other friend, San Jose has been very good to our family. Very good. For instance, the trip we're taking to Europe later this year was made possible with airline miles Darr earned while traveling back and forth to work. And with all of the miles he had leftover when we booked this trip and that he continues to rack up, we've probably got enough for another vacation next year. (Perhaps Belize? Or possibly Ireland? Hell, I've never been to Hawaii.) Plus, there's Santana Row, which is a totally fun street for shopping.

In conclusion, San Jose isn't totally bad but it does leave me all of the crap so while I cannot hate it, I have to not like it very much.

Empty

The beer bottle is empty.
< sigh >

Cat Pic Found

I came across this pic when downloading the latest from the digital camera. This is Ellie Macpherson sleeping in the bed after I've left for work. (Darr took the photo.)

Indonesian Spice Cake

The latest issue of Saveur arrived and with it a request from Darr to make Spekkuk Bumbu (a.k.a. Indonesian Spice Cake). So this afternoon, between trips to the dog park, I baked the cake while Darr worked on his homework outside on the patio. The cake turned out pretty good, I think, although the baking process is weird. The cake bakes in four stages, one stage for each layer. You would think this would lead to the bottom layer becoming a form of sugared dust and you'd expect it to be super dry but it wasn't. We've decided a nice addition to the cake would be homemade cinnamon ice cream. I'll have to remember to try that next time I make it.

The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing

The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing earns a 3.25. It was a quick, easy read. The messages are that we all make mistakes, that sometimes we enter relationships and continue those relationships out of fear or some misguided sense of obligation, that families can be difficult, that there is loss, that there are moments of happiness, and finally, that sometimes, if you allow yourself to be who you truly are, there is a man waiting for you and he'll want to walk your dog. For me, the ending was a touch on the cheese side, which accounts for the slightly lower rating, but as far as books go, this one is an excellent choice when you are looking for something to take on your next vacation.

Thanks for Last Night

To my husband, who took me to Momo Bar Maximo for a stiff drinks (i.e., apple martini for me, shot of Wild Turkey and beer for Darr), to see the movie Friends with Money, and out to dinner at Gino's afterwards (I just ate the leftover Grandma Jean's penne for breakfast), thanks. You're awesome, my sweet. Oh, and we should lay on the grass in the park after hours more often, even if it is speckled with drops of dew.

And thanks to my friend Ann for understanding and allowing me to back out of our evening. It was much appreciated and I promise we'll reschedule soon.