i am overcome by my harry potter obsession at inexplicable times

Last night I was minding my own business on Pinterest.  Okay, that's a lie.  The whole point of Pinterest is that you're minding everyone else's business--but mostly people want their Pinterest business minded, so it's not a bad thing to do.  And someone pinned some piece of HP information that drew me to an their entire board of Potter deliciousness.  And then I lost an hour of my life.

Then I got to thinking about Wordle and how I've never made a beautiful wordle thing, and how my office would never be complete until I had a Harry Potter themed Wordle gracing its walls.  So I worked on it and worked on it and worked some more (and lost hours more of my life), and I think if I can get it to print the way that I want, I'll have something spectacular to show for it eventually.  Here's what it's going to look like maybe unless I change it again.

 

(I hope that doesn't publish as tiny as it looks in this composing screen.  Sorry if it is.)

confessions of a pioneer woman fan

If you don't care about the Pioneer Woman Ree Drummond, famous blogger and fortunate recipient of an open letter from me, I can assure you, you're not going to care about this post.  Sorry.

One day last week someone at work mentioned with no small amount of horror the existence of Pioneer Woman-bashing websites.  I was instantly curious.  What particularly did people think sucked about her?  Though I count myself as a fan especially of her earlier posts where she did more writing and storytelling and fewer of her trademark bits, I could definitely see that she could be a person who inspired annoyance and criticism.  A little googling (wouldn't you think that the spell-checker in Google Chrome would recognize googling as a word?) led me to The Pioneer Woman Sux which led me to some other sites (Rechelle Unplugged, Pie Near Woman, Marlboro Woman), and I became fascinated with the anti-Ree movement that I discovered.

I don't want to over-generalize the views of these folks, but by and large, they are people who have a problem with the false image she's projecting.  She's made her following by "keepin' it real," but according to her detractors, she's not.  Her ordinary family ranch is one of the largest in Oklahoma, and they were millionaires long before her books became national best-sellers, which doesn't necessarily jibe with the down-home, regular girl persona (although anyone looking at her cooking posts can tell from her cookware and dishes that her disposable income isn't exactly in the "regular" range).  Another fact that lends to the perceived lack of authenticity is the cleaning up of her site--posts that have disappeared, wording that has been prettied up from the original posts as she's grown in popularity, negative comments from readers that disappear or never get published at all. There are many who also have quite a bit to say about her writing style, the nutritional value (or lack therof) of her recipes, and all those basset hound photos, but I think these smaller quibbles wouldn't have created the heated backlash that has spawned these sites if not for the more duplicitous feel of the image she's projecting versus the facts of her life.

My research may have started from simple curiosity, but the more I read the more sense all these folks made, and I must admit that I'm much less comfortable now about Ree as my homegirl.  In truth, I feel foolish for having bought into her story.  And perhaps that foolish feeling is well-deserved.  Of course, people don't achieve overwhelming success as she has without seeking out some of that recognition.  Of course, there's a marketing/branding agenda.  I guess I never noticed because I didn't care . . . and I kind of still don't.  I can still like most of the things I've liked about her even if she's fake--probably.

With the intense following that PW has, the sites I've mentioned naturally get at least some criticism from Ree's loyal fans.  A few comments I read wondered why if people were so unhappy with her, they continued to read her site or give it attention, and admittedly, I initially wondered this myself.  No one's forcing them to read her posts or acknowledge her in any way, so why go there and read the stuff and get worked up enough to create entire sites pointing out her flaws?

But the truth is I completely understand why because I am often that person.  I do that.  There are times and people and situations in my life where I'm so incensed/offended/horrified by some falseness or deceit or pretension or brazen rule-breaking that I've been unable ignore it or forgive it or move past it.  Even when it doesn't directly affect me, these sorts of traits fly in the face of my sense of honesty and justice, and while I've never created websites to right any wrongs or vent my frustrations, it makes sense to me.  And it makes me feel a certain kinship with PWSux and Rechelle and the Marlboro Woman, even if their fight isn't my fight--even if I probably won't stop reading PW or making buttery recipes or entering some of her contests.

Because the truth is reading Rechelle's parody website is about to become my new obsession, and it's ever so much funnier if you know enough about PW to understand what's going on.

harry potter haiku #2

Yesterday, I shared with you the inspiration behind the new series.  Hope you don't hate it already because it's completing my life.

Hagrid breaks the news
but not 'til he's eleven,
he's the boy who lived.

And another--because I can't wait to share this one--that's my favorite so far:

In Ollivander's

Phoenix feather chooses him

a curious choice.

This could take a while to work out of my system.  Patience, please.

harry potter haiku #1

A few weeks ago at work someone sent me the following in an email:

Fighting Voldemort
from the comfort of this chair
in my library

It changed my world.  How could I never have considered devoting my favorite form of poetry to what is arguably my favorite series of books?  No longer, imaginary readers, no longer will the world have to muddle through a sham of an existence without my contribution to bad Harry Potter poetry.  Today I present the beginning of a new series.  Sometimes I think my long streams of haikus sort of ruin each other.  They're meant to be short, after all.  So for this project, I'll be presenting the haiku one at a time in roughly chronological order.  Today I present a haiku inspired by Sorcerer's Stone.

 On Four Privet Drive
the cupboard under the stairs,
lives Harry Potter.

You feel your life changing already, don't ya?  Stay tuned for more.  I've got a few in the hopper of which I am excessively proud.

late to lent

Lent crept up under my radar this year.  My particular faith heritage doesn't observe the Lenten season as a group, so no one was reminding me.  I've been thinking about it on and off, and had decided as recently as last week that I wasn't going to observe this year.  I took on a whole lot of giving up and taking up last year (as faithful readers may recall), and I'll admit to not being as successful in that endeavor as I would have liked, and I think that accounts for part of my lack of motivation this year.  I don't like to fail.

The other thing (that I haven't really talked about here yet) is that I've been working on healthier eating habits since the new year, and I sort of feel like I've used up all my self-discipline and self-denial in that process.  Someday soon I might actually tell you more and report some victories in this area, but that's not for today.

Sometime yesterday I considered devoting this season to moderation.  By nature, I have an obsessive personality.  Most things that I develop an interest in end up consuming me to the detriment of other areas of my life.  Sometimes that's reading.  It's often tv, and it's constantly been the internet for the past several years.  I am prone to allow my current addiction to come before cleaning my house, meeting work deadlines, sleeping, or helping others.  Most of my obsessions aren't bad or harmful in and of themselves, but I use them harmfully.  Even my aforementioned healthy-eating kick has become a bit of an obsession.  Talking about it, planning for it, and tracking it have eaten up hours of my time in the past couple of months.  So spending some time seeking balance and moderation in my life seems like an excellent focus.  I have countless neglected, undone, and half-done projects desperately seeking completion, and I hope reorganizing time and priorities in my life will free up space to make progress on these.  This will be my measuring stick.

I'll admit that a ridiculously-obsessive flurry of reading that consumed the past four days of my life brought this trait of mine into sharper focus, and it also highlighted what a lot of junk I read.  So I'm committing to reading nonfiction (particularly nonfiction that threatens to inspire or improve me in some way) for the next little while--though I'm not convinced that this will last through all of Lent.  Last night I started rereading Blue Like Jazz (something I've been meaning to do in preparation for the movie later this year anyway) because I wanted to refresh my memory of it before I read Million Miles (finally).  I've got several other books that have been piling up ignored for a while, so I'll work through them for a while--in moderation, of course.

This morning as I was waging my constant war with tardiness, I came up with one other area I'd like to give attention.  I'm going to give up being late.  More importantly, I'm going to subdue that selfish part of me that excuses and encourages my habitual tardiness.  I don't just mean that I'm going to get to work and church and appointments on time--although that would be a big enough order.  I'm also going to meet deadlines and respond promptly to communication.  I'm going to whittle my huge email backlog down.  I'm going to stop wasting other people's time.  I think this is probably the place where I'll fail most often and become most discouraged, but it needs doing.

As usual, my purpose in sharing my Lenten plans is to seek out accountability for myself.  I invite you, imaginary readers, to check up on me, keep me honest, encourage me, and kick my butt as needed as you see me trying and failing and succeeding in these goals over the next thirty-eight days.

little known fact #3

Little Known Fact Background: I'm 98% certain that everyone who regularly reads this blog actually knows me.  But sometimes I like to dream of a time when I'm famous for these ramblings and folks will flock here and pore over the archives of my early days.  So I'm starting a new series (maybe) that will help those future fans (who truly are the imaginary readers I reference so often) get to know the real ellen--because you know, I've been doing such a first-rate job of not talking about myself up until now.  And perhaps, some of you who are actually acquainted with me will still learn something from these "little known facts."

LFK3:  I take it as a personal insult when the internet fails to provide me with information.

Lately I have found myself in frequent conversations about how we lived before the internet.  Usually these discussions crop up when someone whips out their phone to do a bit of fact-finding when we can't remember some movie or song or person or piece of trivia.  The conclusion I often come to is that in my pre-internet life my expectations were different.  I didn't expect to be able to lay my hands on any piece of information whenever I wanted, so I was more comfortable with not knowing answers or relying on my imperfect memory for the answers I needed.  But that's not how I live now.  In my world these days, there's nothing that the internet can't tell me, and I consider any evidence to the contrary highly offensive.  Knowing this background, let me share a story of how the internet recently nearly failed me.


I used my day off Friday to catch up on a backlog of DVRed shows that I've been neglecting thanks to the now-completed obsessive Harry Potter reread. As I was watching this week's 30 Rock, I spent a considerable amount of time trying to place the guest star who played Anders, the Martha Stewart-recommended Swiss prostitute.  (Man alive, that show is ridiculously hilarious--or maybe ridiculous and hilarious.)

I immediately recognized him as someone I should know from other shows/movies, but I couldn't think of what those shows and movies were.  I could distinctly remember a conversation with Peep Becky after watching him in a movie many years ago wherein she dubbed him "the poor man's Paul Rudd," but I couldn't remember what we'd seen him in that sparked that discussion.  Eventually my irritation with my own forgetfulness took over my life.  At first I had wanted to remember on my own, but I soon conceded that I would have to let the internet help me.

IMDB was my obvious first stop.  Unfortunately they were only listing one guest star for the episode, and it wasn't my guy, and no one (at that point anyway) had started a discussion thread about the actor.  So I next tried the 30 Rock page on the NBC website, but they didn't mention the name of the elusive guest star either.  A viewer had posted a comment on the episode recap asking who the actor was, but at the time I was searching, no one had responded.  Various Google searches yielded recaps and other bits of trivia about the episode but not the identity of this guy.  I even googled the poor man's Paul Rudd thing hoping that Becky and I weren't the only ones to ever notice that the two actors look alike.  That's when I truly began to feel that the internet was letting me down.  I felt adrift in a world which no longer made sense, but I refused to give up.  I began to try to picture the guy in other roles trying to stir my memory to recognize him. 

During this mostly-fruitless exercise, I thought I recalled that he was in Band of Brothers.  Don't ask me how I thought of this because I've never seen Band of Brothers, but it was the best lead I had.  I looked it up on IMDB, but there were so many cast members listed that I lost momentum before I worked my way down the whole list.  The thumbnails didn't immediately yield recognizable results, and I wasn't even really sure that he was in it after all, so I gave up that route of searching as a bad bet.

My next step was to text Becky to see if she could remember "the poor man's Paul Rudd," but a second after I sent the text, I realized it was after midnight in Ohio.  Sorry again, Beck, for being such a rude, late-night texter.  As I sat around feeling guilty for the inconsiderate lateness of the text, I finally realized that the credits for the 30 Rock ep itself would list his name among the guest stars, but I had already deleted it from the DVR.  And that's when the internet starting playing nice again.  I brought the episode up on Hulu and skipped ahead until I found the credits.  I was fully prepared to have to look up each guest star listed, but 30 Rock handily lists guest stars with their character names, so I found Eion Bailey almost immediately. 

Big satisfied sighs of relief here.  So all that was left to do was look through his filmography and feel every sort of embarrassment that I hadn't remembered what I recognized him for.  Most recently he was on the USA series Covert Affairs, which I watched last summer.  He also spent a season or so playing an intern on ER.  I felt especially stupid for not realizing that one.  And sure enough, he was in Band of Brothers, so if I'd stuck with that search method, I would have found him eventually (though his IMDB profile photo doesn't lend itself to easy recognition in the thumbnail size, in this girl's opinion).  And finally I found the movie that had sparked that conversation with Becky long ago:  Center Stage.  Once I saw that, I was amazed that I hadn't recalled in vivid detail because we love that movie.  And finally I was reminded that he did a very memorable turn as part of the hyena pack that eats the principal in Buffy.  How could I have forgotten that?

And for the record, there are multiple discussion threads on his IMDB that refer to the fact that he looks like Paul Rudd, so it's not just Becky and me.

In the end, the internet did come through for me, but it was very rocky there for a while, and I will admit that I'm still disappointed in how my life was almost ruined by the unhelpfulness of my most reliable friend.

if my yahoo account were an archaeological dig . . .

I got my first email account back in 1996.  It was a hotmail account that I let lapse during an era when I didn't have internet at home, and I didn't want to maintain both work and personal email accounts.  But right before I left that job in 2003, I realized how dumb it was to have let my personal account go, and I signed up for a yahoo account and forwarded a few emails I didn't want to lose from my work account to the yahoo account.

In real life I have definite packratish tendencies.  I still have a collection of letters and cards I exchanged with long distance friends during high school, and in that same file are a few printed emails from my college account that I didn't want to leave behind.  Sometimes when I think about that hotmail account I lament that I let some good things slip into the internet void, but I still have a fairly long-reaching anecdotal history of the past nine years in my yahoo account.  No, I don't save every email.  In fact these days, it has to be pretty dang special to earn a spot in the "keeper" folder, but things do make the cut.  Sometimes when I need to be reminded of a particular fact from my history or if I just need to read something special, I can turn to the keeper folder for some heart-warming nostalgia--or occasionally some heart-breaking memories. 

I've been rereading Harry Potter lately, and yesterday I started Order of the Phoenix.  I can never think about year 5 at Hogwarts without remembering my initial reading experience and the email that it generated.  Because I came late to the Harry Potter love-fest, Order was the first book on whose release I actually had to wait, and I unknowingly started a tradition that I would maintain through the book 7.  This morning when I was in the shower (where I do my best thinking), I thought it would be a hoot to publish that eight-year-old email (one of the earliest in my keepers folder) and share with my imaginary readers my very first thoughts on the book. 

I originally sent this message to family members and Peeps, and it was written so near the release of the book, I assumed people wouldn't have had a chance to finish it yet, so it is virtually spoiler-free.  It comes from a time in my emailing history when I was staunchly opposed to capital letters.  In the same vein, I used brackets instead of parentheses because they don't require the use of the shift key.  In my youthful exuberance, I also made sort of a disorganized mess of this email.  I considered correcting that for your viewing pleasure here, but it wouldn't be a true snapshot of  twenty-four-year-old me.  And what kind of archaeologist would I be if I prettied up the details of the dig? 

let me begin by saying that i couldn't exactly remember who all were harry potter addicted, so if you haven't read the books, this might be a little boring for you [actually, might be boring even if you do read the books].  my point is, my feelings won't be hurt if you get bored and stop reading.

so here's the run-down on the last twenty-four-ish hours of my life.  i got to books a million at about 11 last night.  even with my advance purchase voucher, i knew there'd be a line.  i ended up with a pretty good spot and had the good sense to grab a dave barry book off the shelf to read in line so that i could avoid making eye contact with the crazies and have a buffer for the cranky kids--it was approaching midnight after all.  so i was out the door of b-a-m by three minutes after midnight, which i thought spoke very highly of the faithful employees who were snatching and scanning vouchers and bagging those books with a speed that was impressive given the hour and the fact that they had been there with tv camera crews and all the crazies and cranky kids for way longer than i was.  anyway by the time i drove through at backyard burgers [a person with goals and a thick book and who hadn't had supper needs sustenance after all] and got home and got myself focused, it was at least 12:30 when i removed the book jacket [i hate book jackets, by the way] and hugged [yes, hugged] the 870 page volume to me.  then i dove in with both feet [no, i haven't touched the book with my feet].  sometime after three, my master plan broke down, and i convinced myself that the book would not disapparate [ha] if i slept for a while.  when i woke again it was almost nine, and i blinked once and picked it up again.  so anyway my point is this:  i read all day.  at one point i tried to eat ice cream [the only food i could find in my home that required no preparation], but it wasn't easy to do one-handed, so i sacrificed it for the good of the cause.  i was successful in drinking mt. dew as that is generally a one-handed task.  i finished the book at approximately 10:40 p.m. and embraced it again after a solid thirteen and a half hours of continuous reading, and about sixteen and a half of total time.  

so here are my reactions that in no way give away any plotlines in case you are worried:  i love harry potter, not just the books--harry himself.  i actually stopped periodically through the story and thought to myself that i have a crush on a fictional character.  anyway before i sat down to write this email, i tried to decide how this book held up against the other four, and i had to agree once again that at least for me, they get better as the years go by in that the more this story develops, the more i get drawn in and the more i love it, but is the order of the phoenix a better book than any of the others?  not exactly.  i have always known when i read harry potter that it's just one piece of a seven book story, so i know that when i get to the end of the book, it's not the end, so i'm okay with the fact that not all the loose ends get tied up in neat little bows, but that doesn't mean i don't like bows.  ultimately the last three books [especially goblet, and now, order] to me suffer from empire strikes back syndrome.  i'm wrapped up in the story, i know and love the characters, i know the relevant history, so reading the books and seeing more of that story develop is a joy, but getting to the end of what is available for me to read at this point and not having a happily ever after is always kind of a bummer.  luke's just found out darth vader is his father and had his hand cut off, and han solo is frozen in carbonite and on his way to jabba the hut.  it's a dark point in the story, and you know it's going to have to get better, but you don't have the benefit of being able to sit down and watch jedi [for those of you who aren't star wars fans, i apologize for the extended analogy].  still i love it, and i'm wondering how long i'll make myself wait before i read it again. 

now if you'd like to know in very vague generalities what i thought about specific aspects of the book, i'll get to that.  first i'm sure you all know that in this one, somebody important dies.  no, i'm not telling who, but let me say that it's a big deal, and i hated it, but if you've talked harry potter with me before, you know that there was no one important that i felt was expendable.  still in retrospect, after i stopped crying, i think that if someone had to go, this was the best choice.  in other news, there's the usual frustration of harry not telling some big person everything that's wrong so they can help fix it, though there are extenuating circustances that make it a little more bearable this time around, and frankly, the idea of him being able to handle things on his own at fifteen is much more plausible than it was when he was eleven.  my urge to keep him safe and protected is not so strong anymore, so i can handle the scooby gang not running to a real wizard this go around.  at the end of goblet i sobbed for harry because he was just a little boy, and he didn't have a mom to hug him up and baby him, and admittedly part of my sobs at the end of order were for the same reason, but book five really mans harry up.  he's not a baby anymore, and that came through in a big way for me in this book.  and i think if i go on anymore, it will ruin aspects for you, so i'll stop.

here's my final plea:  if you've read the book, write me back!  i'm dying to talk to someone about it.  if you haven't read the book, get off your butt and do something about it--i'm dying to talk to someone about it.

love to all, ellen

I can say that almost eight years later, I have the same intensity of feeling for this book and this particular reading experience.

I have a few more gems in my keepers folder (perhaps even some that don't pertain to Harry Potter) that I'll look at sharing in the future.

an open letter to flying burrito

Dear Flying Burrito,

I can still remember our first encounter back in May of 2007.  It was a Wednesday, and Lisa bought my lunch as a bribe for doing something I wanted to do anyway.  Even on our first meeting, I was wise enough to choose the chicken nachos, and it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Do you remember those early days when Lisa liked to go and flirt with "the burrito boys" none of whom were actually flirt-worthy?  Remember the nicknames we had for the boys?  I still miss JT and Original Hat, and though I love Normal Guy, he still can't make up for the loss of them.  Remember how Mouth-Breather used to be such a dud then turned fun for about a week and then went right back to his old dud ways?  Why did he have to be the one who worked there the whole time I've been in love with you?

Flying Burrito, you ruined me for any other pick-your-toppings type Mexican food.  Whenever anyone starts singing the praises of Moe's, I gag.  I still believe that anyone who truly likes Moe's has never been to the Burrito.  There's just no way you could experience the perfection of you and ever be content with Moe and his nasty cheese dip.

I always loved that I could come for a visit anytime of day.  On Mondays when I like to eat lunch late, the River Market vendors are always closed, but you're there for me.  I'll never forget that about you.  Your presence in my life enriched my relationships with coworkers.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Mattie and Amelia had an entirely different set of nicknames for the boys.  Our Burrito-love and friendly debate over the best foods there brought us closer together.  Mattie's in London this semester, and I know she's devastated that she'll never get one last burrito when she gets home.

Over the years I've shared our love with countless friends.  Jess and I had our first date there back in August of 2008.  I took Justin there.  Sam the page and I have lunched there together.  I think I introduced Shane to your delightfulness.  You were the setting for a short-lived run of weekly lunches with a few downtown-working church friends.  When Martha moved back and we instated downtown lunches, you were the first place I took her.  And that doesn't even take into account all the lunches I've had there with Lisa or Bob and Philip and lately with the babies Beck.  So many memories with folks from all over my life.  Thank you for those memories.

Sometimes I've tried to stay away, bring my lunch, and save my pennies, but even when I was being sensible, you were my splurge place.  If I was going to go eat anywhere, I would come to you, especially on Tuesdays.  Your double-punch lunch card special ensured that though I was paying for lunch then, there was a free treat in my future.  Thanks for all those double-punches.  And thanks to Normal Guy who on a few occasions gave me extra punches after I lost my punch card.  I'm going to miss that Normal Guy.

I had heard mutterings that you were closing, but I refused to believe them until that Thursday a few weeks ago when I read your closing signs for myself.  I couldn't believe it.  I resolved then to make the most of our time together.  I even had a punch-card schedule worked out so that I could fill my card one last time before you were gone forever.  When I fell a bit off-schedule, Normal Guy came to my rescue again and finished my card for me on Monday, so it was free-lunch ready on Tuesday, our last day together.  I actually made plans over the weekend to introduce one more person to you before you were gone for good.  Lacey was going to meet me after work on Tuesday night for one last hurrah.  I still came to see you for lunch on Tuesday though--and waited in line for over thirty minutes.  I'm not sure how you're not managing to stay in business with crowds like that.  I'll never regret coming at lunch-time that day because when Lacey and I walked over after work, you were already closed for good.  It hurt. 

There's still an ache there.  Never again will one of the burrito boys know I want nachos to go before I even say it.  Never again will I taste the joy of all my favorites piled just the way I want them.  I've tasted my last chipotle sour cream.  I'll never have to explain the recycling system to Bob again or find myself involved in random line conversations.  No matter what other Mexican restaurant reopens there in the spring, it will never be the same.  It won't be you, and without you, we won't be us.  I'm sorry for all the times that I took you for granted, for all the times I didn't ask for guacamole just because it cost extra.  I'm sorry for not savoring each lunch with the knowledge that they would someday end.  I've seen some cheery, feel-good quotation somewhere that advises, "Don't cry because it's over.  Smile because it happened."  I think I'll get there someday, Flying Burrito.  Someday I'll look back with nostalgia and fondness for all the good times you provided, but for today, I'm still going to cry.

You'll always be in my heart.

Yours,

Ellen

send help

Please disregard the fact that I never finished my vacation diary.  Day 8 has photos, and my computer and blogger get crabby with each other when there are pictures involved--nothing that can't be overcome, but it's tedious.  And I'm lazy. 

So until the technical difficulties are worked out, let's pretend like you're not still waiting on ten days of my boring life in vivid, painful detail--or a long-promised post about the National Zoo--or five months' worth of project 4:4 posts--because if we think about those things, imaginary readers, we'll begin to feel so inadequate that we won't be able to continue blogging.  Ever.

And I don't think any of us want to live in a world where I'm not free to ramble ad nauseam and publish those ramblings for a group of people with nothing better to do than read them.  Do we?

Yesterday I had a sinking spell at work.  That term might carry some serious connotation for some of you, so let me assure you that I was in no real danger, unless my general grumpiness was the final straw in sending one of my coworkers on a killing spree.  That didn't happen, so don't worry.  But I was tired and grumpy and didn't feel equal to even the smallest tasks that I should have been checking off my list.  So I called Jess and told her that I needed something to look forward to in my miserable existence and demanded that she think of something for us to do when I got off work.  The great thing about Jess is that she always takes my petulance in stride.  She said she wanted to eat Chinese--which was exactly the thing that I wanted to do.  Some days we really are two peas in a multiracial pod.  Renewed by the promise of a good time later (and by the chocolate banana shake that I went and got over at Bookends--the library's cafe that's just across the parking lot), I muddled through the rest of my afternoon.

After dinner, we went to a store to buy a gift for someone who reads this blog, so I cannot divulge any more information about that, but my deliberations wasted a sizable chunk of our night.  When we got home, Jess continued the Carol Burnett Biography that she had started before I got home from work, and I reacquainted myself with the internet after our prolonged three hour separation.  Over dinner we had discussed some of our tv shows that are premiering in the next week or so, so after Carol and a Bio on Russell Crowe, we started checking the DVR settings for our returning shows and started a dialogue about new shows.  We also went through and cleared out the DVR settings for canceled stuff, and I finally gave in and deleted the NCIS-rerun recordings from USA, Sleuth, and Ion.  It was a pretty big deal.  Obviously I'm in a place right now where I don't want to do anything but watch tv--up-to-date readers may recall that I'm currently watching Gilmore Girls on DVD, and I can report officially, though it will spoil a vacation post later, that I'm completely caught up on NCIS now.  My tv obsession is no revelation, but even I was surprised by how appealing I found nearly all of the new show synopses that I read online last night.  The fact that I've been watching more commercials than normal lately and my susceptibility to marketing probably also had a hand in this, but I'm picking up something like forty-seven new shows.  In true tv-obsessed fashion, I made a spreadsheet to organize it all, and then we started adding series recordings to the DVR.

Thank goodness for U-Verse.  We can record up to four shows at one time, but I think we only have more than three for a brief half-hour on Thursdays.  We do push it to three shows at once on several different occasions though.  Several of the new shows I added last night are on a definite trial basis.  I don't think I have the time or energy to devote to this many shows--I'm not Robyn, after all, but until I experience them a little, I couldn't say no to them either.  I'm going to attempt to recreate the list here without benefit of my spreadsheet.  Feel free to try and talk me down from the crazy-obsessed ledge I'm on, but don't be surprised if my commitment to self-indulgence cannot be shaken. 

Mondays:
Returning shows:
Chuck--I adored Chuck when the show first premiered, but season 2 never really sucked me in.  I haven't quit it yet because Adam Baldwin is hilarious and wonderful, but I'm not cartwheeling over this one.

How I Met Your Mother--There have been moments during this show's run when it's been my absolute favorite thing on tv.  But if we don't meet the mother--for real this time--soon, I'm going to slap Ted Mosby like Barney's never been slapped.

Castle--None of the die-hard Nathan Fillion fans I know (except maybe Joshua) are into this show, but I love him and it, and if they'll give Beckett a decent hairstyle this season, I think we'll all be very happy together.

New shows:
Mike & Molly--I don't have high expectations here, but I love Melissa McCarthy enough to endure loads of things.  If Scott Patterson would get a new tv show and I could see Lorelai, Sookie, and Luke on a weekly basis, my cup would be full.

The Event--Blair Underwood is the President.  And I don't know why, but I'm a big Jason Ritter fan.  We'll see how it goes.

Lone Star--This is going to be pure, soapy trash, but I can't stop myself from watching an episode or two.  Stupid FOX and their stupid pervasive marketing.

Shows that I don't watch but my DVR does:
Chase--Actually Jess is only watching it because the Jenny (her sister) is an extra in an episode.  She claims once we see her, she'll quit watching it, but I'll probably get sucked in by then.

Tuesdays:
Returning shows:
Glee--This show is the cautionary tale for why I'm adding so many shows.  As I explained to Jess last night, there have been times in my life when I've unilaterally decided not to add any new shows when the tv season began, so that I could cut down on my devotion to the small screen, but I missed out on some really cool stuff that way--that I later picked up on DVD, so don't cry for me or anything.  If I had had that attitude last season, I would have missed out on being a die-hard Gleek from the beginning, and I never would have felt like a real fan.  And that would be a tragedy of epic proportions.

Parenthood--I've always liked that Steve Martin movie on which this show is loosely based.  Plus Peter Krause who I've loved in Sports Night and Six Feet Under? And Lorelai Gilmore (sorry Lauren Graham, but I can't call you anything else)? And Dax Shepard?  There was no way I wasn't picking this one up last March.  Lucky for me the DVR was trained to remember it because I hadn't bothered to find out when it was premiering until after the first new episode aired on Tuesday.


New shows:
NCIS--I'm calling this a new show only because it's never been in my regular tv season routine before.  My obsession with the very special agents of NCIS is well-documented, so I won't say more.  But trust that I could.

Raising Hope--This is a major trial-only pick.  Recording it means I won't ever miss the end of Glee, so I'm going to give it a shot.

Running Wilde--Two words:  Will Arnett.  I'm excited about this one.

No Ordinary Family--I think this is the moment when I turned into a lunatic.  I was reading about this show and feeling like it definitely wasn't my thing.  And then I read the name Julie Benz, and I can't allow a Buffy/Angel alum to be in a tv show that I don't watch, except that I didn't watch Dollhouse, so don't believe anything I say.  Except that I'm watching No Ordinary Family.  Believe that.

Shows that I don't watch but my DVR does:
The Good Wife--I don't watch this necessarily, but Jess does, and I have sometimes watched it with her.  It's got lots of people that I've loved in other stuff.

Wednesdays:
New (to me) shows:
The Middle--Robyn goes on and on about this show, and I love Janitor.  So I'm going to go against one of my most deeply-held beliefs and pick up a show during the second season without having caught up on the first season.

Modern Family--see above, but change the "Robyn" to "Jess" and the "Janitor" to "Jesse Tyler Ferguson" and the "love" to "enjoyed watching in the terrible 2006 CBS sit-com The Class."  Plus I'm a follower, and I apparently care about Emmy wins now.

Actual new shows:
Undercovers--I was intrigued.  It's JJ Abrams.  Jess wants to watch it too.

The Whole Truth--Maura Tierney ended up being my favorite thing about ER.  I loved Abby more than Carter.  And I have some serious Rob Morrow love, but I have no idea why.

Better with You--I don't have a good reason for watching this show, aside from Kitty Forman.  But it made the list to try out. 

Thursdays:
Returning shows:
Bones--I am still smarting from the betrayals of last season, but Bones remains in my top three shows.  With all the competition, David Boreanaz is going to have to marry me soon if he wants to stay at the top.

30 Rock--Oh, Liz Lemon.  How I've missed you.

The Office--Gotta savor my last season with Michael Scott.  I'm not sure I'll be able to watch if they continue without him next year.  He's not even close to my favorite, but I can't imagine how they'll go on without him.

Private Practice--I'm still so mad at them for [SPOILER ALERT] killing Dell, and it's nothing but soapy trash, but Taye Diggs sure is pretty.

New shows:
My Generation--I've been burned by other takes on this class-reunion-where-are-they-now type theme (the aforementioned The Class and FOX's 2005 Reunion), but I'm still drawn in and eternally optimistic.  Plus I've never seen Mehcad Brooks in a show where I didn't like him.

$#*! My Dad Says--I don't love William Shatner, but I do love cussing.

Outsourced--Well, I'm pretty bummed that Parks and Recreation isn't coming back until mid-season, but I'm not going to hold that against the show taking its place.  NBC Thursday comedies and I go way back, so I'm going to give it a shot.

Shows that I don't watch but my DVR does:
Grey's Anatomy--Meredith is the single most annoying person in the world, and that's why I'll never watch this show.

Community--Despite my Joel McHale/The Soup love, I couldn't get behind this show.  I tried and failed, but Jess likes it.

Fridays:
I promised myself long ago that I would never watch a show that comes on Fridays, but I broke that one a couple of years ago for Moonlight, which got stupid and canceled anyway.  I'm breaking the promise again this season, because as I explained to Jess last night when asked when some show came on, "I don't know, but the DVR does." 

Returning show:
Good Guys--I've only watched a couple of the episodes that aired this summer, but I'm going to catch up one of these days.  I love Bradley Whitford in a totally unprofessional way.

New show:
Blue Bloods--Apparently mustaches are the thing that Friday night tv was missing, but Bradley Whitford and Tom Selleck are doing their part to fix that.  Plus Donny Wahlberg is in this show, and Donny was always my favorite New Kid.

Sundays:
I don't watch anything on Sundays, but my DVR does:
Desperate Housewives--I let Entertainment Weekly convince me to start watching this show in its first season, and I've regretted it ever since.  But Jess watches it.

So forty-seven new shows may have been an exaggeration, but not much of one.  What TV shows are on your must-watch list?  I hope, dear friends, it's not as many as mine.  Someone needs to be out there living while I grow pale and (even more) lethargic in front of the TV.

*****Note to Hailey:  I was already composing this post before your comment giving me permission to keep blogging, but I appreciate the stamp of approval to forge ahead nonetheless.  See you in a bit.*****

the vacation diary: day four

I left out a key part of day three, but since I kept it going throughout day four, I'll just add it in where appropriate here.  For those that want to skip this, day four is just as deliciously boring as day three.  My feelings will not be hurt if you stop reading now.

Day 4 stats:

Wake-up time:  9:07/9:30ish  Method:  My phone rang at 9:07, and I sort of roused and then decided that I didn't care and fell back asleep for another twenty minutes or so.  General mood:  grumpy

Agenda:  I said hello to my internet world and then went to check on Jess.  She was off all day too, so I was a bit nervous that her lazy day off routine would upset my own.  As it turned out, our laziness complemented each other nicely.  I retreated back to my room to work on yesterday's stunning vacation post.  When I checked on Jess at one point in the late morning, she was taking a nap.  I admired her greatly.  I was bored by recounting my own day, so I took frequent breaks to cruise the internet and play spider solitaire.  I've occasionally played spider solitaire in the past, but the last weekend I spent with my family in Lexington, I learned that everyone else was better at it than I, which made me sulkily give it up for a while, but fairly soon my competitive nature kicked in, and I determined that I had to get better.  When I was without home internet for ten whole agonizing days, I had to do something with the computer sitting in my lap, so I devoted scads of time to it.  After 111 straight losses on the four suit difficulty, I finally won the first one a few weeks ago, and I've had a few more successes since then.  My current percentage is 4%, which admittedly doesn't sound good, but trust me that it's a vast improvement.

When Jess woke up from her nap, we flipped channels a bit, and I discovered that we get the Biography channel.  During any other week of my life, I doubt that this would have made quite the impact that it did yesterday, but it was a pretty special discovery.  We tuned in for a Biography of the tv show Home Improvement.  I didn't even know they did biographies of tv shows.  Next up was a bio of Kim Fields, who has definitely aged gracefully.  We looked ahead and DVRed several upcoming episodes.  We flipped off Bio for a while to avoid several episodes of a William Shatner show because even on vacation, I have my limits.  When Jess and I first moved in together, she once made a joke that I wasn't allowed to watch BET, and it's been ongoing for more than a year.  But after we switched off the biographies, we spent some time watching The Game and Everybody Hates Chris reruns on BET, and no one was harmed.  Somewhere in the middle of all this watching, we ate some lunch.  Jess also took an afternoon nap somewhere in there.  That girl can sleep.

My laptop died at some point, and instead of bringing the cord to the living room, I retreated to my room to concentrate more seriously on spider solitaire.  We ordered pizza and in the process debated pizza toppings for longer than strictly necessary.  It probably took us longer to make up our minds than it did for the pizza to arrive.  For the record, Pizza Hut doesn't offer Skittles as a toppings choice.

We watched Gleeruns while we ate and then we took Jess's new crack-free windshield for a spin to Sonic, where after 8 p.m., they have 99 cent sundaes.  Once we got home, we started watching our DVRed shows from the Biography channel.  We saw The Truth Behind Sitcom Scandals, and I now know more about Welcome Back, Kotter, The Facts of Life, and Roseanne than I ever thought I needed to.  We also saw Biography:  Full House, which was an absolute delight.  Candace Cameron has definitely aged well.  Here's the thing I've really learned from watching the Biography channel:  if you are currently remotely successful, you don't agree to be interviewed for the Biography special on a past show.  Just sayin'.  We ended our night with watching Covert Affairs, which I've been watching this summer.  I fell asleep towards the end of the episode and spent the night on the couch.  Jess probably woke me up at some point, but once I've fallen asleep on the couch, I'm impossible to wake up.

Food consumed:  I don't think that I had breakfast--which is not so unusual.  During our marathon block of tv-watching, Jess brought me chips and salsa as a lunch appetizer, and I eventually had some leftover spaghetti.  You'll recall that we had pizza for dinner.  The three toppings we settled on were Italian sausage, ham, and bacon.  There were also breadsticks.  Then there were the hot fudge sundaes, with whipped cream and nuts.  There wasn't supposed to be a cherry, but there was.  I also drank some tea and finished up the last of the good ice.

Bright spot:  Discovering that Kim Fields went to Pepperdine.  Just thought that was nice.

Bedtime:  I'm not sure about the time exactly since there's no clock in our living room.  Jess thinks it was midnight something.  I did wake up once or twice in the night but never enough to consider moving to the bed. 

Here's a spoiler from day five to tide  you over:  I finally found a knitting needle I needed.

because i'm tired of having posts that are almost ready

I always seem to be waiting around on something in order to post the millions of things I want to show you or talk about.  Most often it's a matter of not having pictures taken or transferred or whatnot.  (Well, truthfully, it's most often still being ridiculous behind on the Bible reading, but I can't even hold my head up under all that non-reading guilt.)

So even though it's midnight and what I'm about to show you is only half-finished, here's a look at my knitting progress.  When last we met in knitting discussion, I had finished a badly photographed baby hat.  The next project I began was a scarf with some yarn I stole from my moma.  For most of the winter and spring I worked on it, though really only on Wednesday nights.  I started using knitting as my fidget-buster in Wednesday night class, but I didn't make much time for it otherwise.  Recently I decided that the scarf was hideous and going nowhere, so I went in search of a better project.  Since the first baby hat was so successful and I know lots o' babies, I decided to stick with hats of various sorts.  Thanks to that center of democracy, the public library, I accessed several delightful baby knitting books and then stocked up on soft, kiddo-appropriate yarn. 

******Frugal, library-affiliated blogger's note:  You should never buy knitting or crochet books, especially since most of the books I've seen/used have only a couple of patterns I'd ever make and a dozen I wouldn't.  And once you've made something, how likely are you to make the same pattern again?  If you're the sort of person who has to write on a pattern, you probably make copies anyway.  (Not that I just advocated making photocopies of copyrighted works, though I think making a copy for the purpose keeping one's place in a pattern probably falls under acceptable use.  But don't quote me on any of that rubbish.)  But do quote me on that bit about not buying knitting books.******

My first project comes from this book:

And here's what I've got so far:

The colors might be a bit off, but the bottom of the ribbing is purple, a fairly appealing purple, if you ask me.  The pink is sweet in real life.  

It doesn't look like much yet, but I think it's going to work out.

Here's one of those world-famous live action, self-timer shots.  Pay no attention to the hideous orange shirt in the background.  Make no mistake, it's cuter in real life.

Also please notice my cute new double-point needles.  They're not as delightful to use as my bamboo ones, but I needed a smaller size.

If I were better at this whole live action shooting thing, you could see how I don't hold things correctly to be a right-handed knitter--at least that's what my moma says.  The job gets done either way.

So that's what I'm up to, knitting-wise.  I probably won't be posting a photo of the finished product for a while.  It is going to be a gift for some lucky baby I know, after all. And I have no proof to indicate that some of my imaginary readers aren't infants.  But once all my little hat projects are gifted, I'll do a recap of them all.  

Unless I forget.

******Lamely obsessed blogger's note:  It is supremely difficult to craft a decent sentence while watching NCIS episodes, especially now that I'm the proud borrower of season 1 on dvd since there are no commercial breaks.  It's amazing I finished at all.******

it's happening again

Faithful imaginary readers may recall that I slipped off the face of the internet a few months ago when I was obsessively getting caught up on Lost episodes.  If you were fortunate enough to miss that but would like to see how lame I really am you can read about it here or here. 
Well, friends, tv show obsession has once again reared its ugly head in my life.  After spending ten days or so with my family and being exposed to countless NCIS reruns in completely random order, I decided that I could just start watching reruns on various networks and basically see the whole show without having to procure the DVDs.  So I've been DVRing eps for the past  couple of weeks.  I finally remembered to start watching them on Wednesday, and this weekend, when I didn't have anything particular planned, I went a bit crazy.  I now have a spreadsheet with all the episodes listed in order, with color-coding to represent what I've watched, what's on the DVR already, and what is scheduled to tape soon.  Since Jess is out of town, I spent my weekend with Gibbs, Tony, McGee, Ziva, Ducky, and Abby (and a few episodes with Kate too, but that hurts too much to talk about).  It's consuming my life in a completely unhealthy way, and I'm pretty sure the only reason I was able to manage getting to work today was because I basically watched every episode I had recorded (with the exception of a couple I'm saving until after the preceding eps record on Wednesday).  [I also knitted a lot, but I don't have much to show for it yet.  Maybe I'll take some pictures tonight.]

Never let it be said, that I hide my flaws from my adoring public.  I fully acknowledge how lame I am, but I gotta be me.

Don't tell, but I think I love McGee best of all.

And if you haven't already purchased my Christmas present, may I make a suggestion?

a story about my hair

When I was in college, I ate in the cafeteria.  Harding required students living in dorms to buy a fairly hefty meal plan, and though I rarely used all of them from week to week, I did eat at least two meals a day in the caf usually.  Dinner was usually the same crowd, a premeditated grouping of folks who planned to show up at the same time and eat together, typically my closest friends, but lunch was different.  Because of different class schedules, the lunch table crowd consisted of a few friends and friends of friends and mild acquaintances who happened to not have a class in the middle of the day at the same time as me.  Typically that worked out fine for me, and some of the best cafeteria stories sprung out of someone trying to entertain the lunch crowd.  (Lyle's dad's a nerd, anyone?)

One semester in particular, I managed to eat lunch most days with cousin, scholar, theologian, and #1 blog fan, though at that time, he was not a blog fan and less of a theologian.  That same semester his friend Jeff ate with us most days.  Jeff lived off-campus, but I guess he carried a small meal plan so he could have lunch on campus.  Jeff and I had known of each other since he and Mac were kids, but we weren't friends ourselves until that semester.  Perhaps friends is too strong a term, but we ate lunch together and conversed and generally made each other laugh and didn't hate each other.  So . . . friends. 

One day I happened to tell a story about my hair's uncooperativeness to a table of all guys.  I won't lie and say it was one of my best stories.  It was far from captivating, I'm sure, but as I have an obsession with my hair, it mattered to me a great deal.  Now if there had been any other girls at the table when I told the story, I think it would have landed an audience.  Show me any six college-age girls, and I'll show you four who have at least a mild obsession with their own hair.  But to say the story fell flat, is an extreme understatement, but Jeff bought in.  He displayed an interest that was completely disproportionate to the importance of the story, and for the rest of the semester, he would start conversations about my hair, and ask for more stories.  It was hilarious, but Jeff typically is.

I share that story because it makes me laugh, because my hair obsession is still alive and well and boring people, and because several days in the past week, when I've been trying to think of blogging topics while I'm in the shower (because I do my best thinking in the shower), all I can think of to say is about my hair.  And talking about my hair, even in appropriate situations with people who are sincerely interested, always makes me think of Jeff and that semester of lunch-time hair stories.

Jeff is often encouraged to read my blog by CST1BF, but something tells me he doesn't.  (Probably because he fears having to read drivel about my hair, which I've managed to avoid until today.)  But Jeff, if you're out there, I wanted you to know what a lasting legacy your feigned interest in my hair has had on my life.  I thank you, but I'm sure the imaginary readers, who've just endured five paragraphs of aching boredom, do not.

a bit of a ramble, because I've missed you

I saw #1 blog fan Mac last night and was reminded that I hadn't given the people what they wanted since Tuesday.  Sorry, imaginary readers.  I lost track of time and neglected you for far too long.  (Although I would argue that I gave you such great material on both Monday and Tuesday, that I deserve for you to cut me a break.  But let's not argue, friends.  I'll just do better next time.)

I've got a few posts/ideas in the hopper, but none of them are quite ready for public consumption yet, so I'm just going to meander through the rest of this post with no clear direction.  I'm sure you won't notice the difference.

I was in kind of a foul mood last week.  If you saw me or had interaction with me from Monday through Thursday, I'm sorry for being a grouchy jerk.  I don't know what was wrong or why I was crabby, but I just had the case of the blahs.  Lucky for us all, my moma and the Popster came for a visit, and spending the day getting stuff hung on my walls and some decorative stuff in place lifted my spirits.  Plus seeing my moma just does that for me.  She's good people.  And because we got so much stuff done, there's going to be at least one more home improvement post in your future, I bet.  But not today.

Google Analytics has been my special friend lately.  I love knowing how many people are visiting me here and how they're finding me and whatnot.  It was through the miracle of Google Analytics that I discovered my brush with HGTV internet-stardom--when my visits spiked last Saturday, I discovered that nearly all of those visitors were coming through the same referring site.  I also discovered this week that some decorating/home improvement Spanish language blog had created a post using most of my process pictures and linked to my blog.  I was severely disappointed in myself that I could comprehend almost none of the text, but thanks to the incredibly literal translating efforts of Microsoft office products, I think I got the gist of it.  It definitely seemed from the translated version that the writer may have been trying to pass the project of as her own, but she did link to my blog, so I don't think it was in a nefarious way.  I will say the poorly translated version that I read definitely didn't convey the charm and wit that I used to originally recount the project, but I'm willing to bet that if I could have understood the Spanish without the help of a translator, it would have been lovely.

In other Google Analytic news, it seems as though the increased traffic from the HGTV plug is dying down.  I was back down to less than a hundred visitors yesterday for the first time in a week.  Before this thing happened, I averaged between 20 and 30 a day.  I know the quality of the product really shouldn't be affected by the stats, but I did feel a certain amount of pressure to perform well for all the increased traffic.  The truth that I learned from my stats is that almost none of the new visitors explored beyond the dresser post on which they landed.  My bounce rate increased by about 50% this week (though the fact that my visits were up over 500% sort of made up for that a bit).  I guess it comes down to preferring  a smaller number of readers who I feel like are at least moderately invested in this blogging adventure or a huge number of people who just happen by.  The point of all that convoluted wandering is that I've reminded myself today that stats don't drive what I do here, so it's cool if none of those people ever return--though if they do, I'll be here to greet them with my usual standard of excellence . . . or something. 

And here's one more thing I learned from Google Analytics--and then I promise I'm moving on.  I realized this week that it can tell me what service providers my visitors are using, and I discovered that in the days following my open letter to Penske, I had several visitors originating from their network.  I guess those open letters were more powerful than I realized.  I'll have to use them wisely from now on--though I still have no statistical proof that the Michael Jackson mime found my blog after my open letter to him.

Last Sunday I set a lofty goal and shared it with Shane about catching up on my Daily Bible reading.  I didn't come close on the goal, but I did make some progress this week.  Faithful project 4:4 fans (or just faithful fans of the Bible) will be receiving a new prodigal 4:4 post soon.  But I'll still be five weeks behind.  Sigh.  Speaking of other things I'm behind on . . . I requested all seven books that FHDM recommends to improve one's writing.  Because not reading books I already owned or already had checked out from the library wasn't enough.  I had to bring more books into my immediate vicinity that I wouldn't make time to read.  But I warn you, imaginary readers, if I ever get those seven books read, you won't be able to stay away. 

I want to start food blogging, but I never think about it until after I've already made and eaten something that would make an interesting post.  I'm going to think more about this--my kitchen does have great natural light, so if I were ever home to do any cooking during the day, I think it would make some great photos.  Maybe someday.  Today at the library, I was going to make those dirt cup things with the gummy worms and I would have shown you a picture of that, but no one showed up for the program.

Things are about to get so intense at work that I may not be able to resist blogging about my job.  I'll truly know then that I've run out of decent ideas--or that work has so consumed me that I don't have time for other thoughts.  If it happens, please don't give up on me.

I have discovered what I believe to be the perfect hypothetical question.  It reveals so much about those that answer.  So let me ask you here, imaginary reader, and maybe someday I'll analyze your responses and tell you what they say about you as a person.  Ready?  Here goes:

If you were ordering a pizza for yourself and didn't have to share with anyone, what three toppings would you choose?  You must choose exactly three toppings.  You may explain why if, like me, you can't answer a direct question without justifications and explanations and personal history.

blogligations

Sometimes I like to talk about the history of my blog like it's been around forever.  But mostly I realize that I'm just some upstart who hasn't been doing anything for very long and who doesn't do anything with enough consistency to talk about the history of this blog.  So if I stumble into talking that kind of nonsense, please ignore me.  You probably already were.

So in my vast blogging experience, I've learned that the process of starting and maintaining a blog is not as simple as registering a blogger account and spouting off a few opinions (later I'm going to devote a paragraph or seven to the whole "opinion" thing).  For me, the decision to blog is primarily very personal.  I need an outlet.  I've got lots of thoughts in my head.  Better out than in, I (and Shrek) always say.  I have this tendency to narrate my life, probably because I'm a fiction reader, and when things around me are moving slowly, I edit the previously narrated bits.  And it's not just straight narration, which is not the sort of thing that would carry over into a blog anyway . . . It's exposition about thoughts I'm having or experiences or memories.  Long before I started posting here, I was writing something in my head.  I can't believe I just admitted that.  Freak flag:  check.

So a lot of the stuff that goes on here is really just for me--to get it out of my head or to give me a place for some true editing of all these words.  That's why I have so many drafts of posts that never actually show up for public consumption.  Some things don't pan out, but so far, I'm keeping them in case they grow up to be something better later.  But if all I was looking for was an outlet, I could keep a journal.  That does appeal to me in some ways because I love physically writing things.  Add a mild handwriting obsession to the crazy that is me.  And journaling vs. blogging would give me more freedom to let out all my thoughts.  Because no matter how real I keep it or how transparent I claim to be, this blog o'mine is far from the unvarnished truth.  There's a ton of censoring that goes into everyday communication, and that's true of what goes on here as well.  Quite a lot is going unsaid because it's better or safer or something.  And really, no one would want to read me unfiltered.  Potentially, I can see that an open forum for my every rant isn't necessarily what's best for me anyway.  Better out than in, yes, but often better to not give anger and negativity such a foothold that a rant is necessary.

Clearly, I've made my point that I'm neurotic and self-centered, so before this turns into a love song to Ellen, let me tell you that blogging is also about you, imaginary reader.  Because I didn't choose to keep a journal . . . I chose to write to you.  Now I'll be honest and tell you that part of that is conceit, assuming that anything I want to say is worth reading to other people, and part of it is the voyeuristic nature of society.  But having an audience, imaginary or otherwise, takes blogging out of my head.  I have someone to consider, which streamlines my rambling occasionally and directs my thoughts often.  I'm writing for me, but I want you to be here too.  And I want to do something that will bring you back.  My Google Analytics addiction is proof enough that I care that you're here and what you're doing here.

The point I'm belaboring here is that blogging is a thumbs-up kind of experience for me.  I get to write, and I feel like I'm providing an occasional amusing diversion to the teeming masses.  Go me(at)!  But (and you know there was a but coming, right?) sometimes the pressure of blogging is really more than I bargained for.  Stupid, self-inflicted pressure, but pretty real, nonetheless.  Yesterday I realized that I'd only done ten posts in March, and a couple of those were short little duds anyway.  I felt guilty about that.  I haven't done a project 4:4 post all month (primarily because I haven't read my dailies all month).  I can't decide if I should feel more guilty about being so behind on the Bible or the fact that my behind-ness deprives my loyal fans here of some blog-fodder.  I'm not reading books and continuing the "year in books" series, but I've already expressed enough guilt over that.  And my slow trickle of other ideas is fairly dry.  I'm feeling like a failure.  Whoever had three and a half months in the pool should collect.  I'm not saying that this is the end of the opinions.  But at this point, it's feeling much more like an obligation than a joy.  And that stinks for all of us.

And since I mentioned "opinions" again, let me tell you that I hate the name of this blog.  Why did I pick it?  It sounds like I'm some know-it-all jerk who's going to choose a topic that doesn't really concern me in the real world and tell you all what to think about it.  Well, I am a know-it-all jerk, but I tend to stay away from hot topics or telling people what to think about things that matter.  On the other hand, I do have a lot of opinions and ideas and rules about silly stuff, things that don't matter, and I feel like this blog is chock-full of those ridiculous opinions.  So maybe it's appropriate. 

Any direction that this post had was lost long ago.  Apologies, imaginary readers.  Let me sum up for those still searching through the mire of my thoughts for a point:  today blogging gives me a frowny face.  But I have hope in my own narcissism, and so should you. 

*****Uncertain blog author's dilemma:  Should I have called this post "blobligations" instead of "blogligations."  Is it even clear what I'm trying to say?  I want to be cool and confident enough to let it stand and have you get it or feel inadequate because you don't get it, but my inadequacies rule the day.*****

making the grade

Another American Idol post:  my apologies to non-fans.  You know where to send hate mail.

A couple weeks ago, I made my predictions about the top 12 contestants on AI.  Tonight we'll see how my predictions fared.

Let me refresh your memory for a moment.  I picked

• Katie Stevens
• Crystal Bowersox
• Katelyn Epperly
• Michelle Delamor
• Janell Wheeler/Didi Benami
• Ashley Rodriguez
• Andrew Garcia
• Casey James
• Todrick Hall
• Michael Lynche
• Joe Muñoz
• Tim Urban

Most of the picks were based on talent or my take on how the voting would go, but a few were definitely influenced by my own preferences, which is why when I picked Ashley, I qualified it by saying that I thought it might be a couple of other people too. So though one of those people I mentioned made the top 12, I won't count that as a correct prediction--though my percentage could really use the boost.  I did a much better job on the guys than the girls.  I correctly predicted two thirds of the guys who made it but was only 42% accurate on the girls (for the record, I'm counting Didi has half a correct prediction rather than a whole one).  Overall, I was at 54%.  Not very respectable, but I make no apologies. 

And because I'd like to get all my Idol opinions out there now rather than later, let me say a few words about the actual top 12:

• Katie--I called this early, but I'm somewhat amazed tonight that she actually made it.  She has sort of fallen apart lately, and though I think her voice deserves it, her overall performance doesn't.
• Crystal--Called it, but who couldn't have.  Crystal's the best.
• Didi--Her performance this week was spectacular, and I only hope she lives up to it in upcoming weeks.
• Siobhan--She was the girl that put I put down as a maybe when I was talking about Ashley, so I'm not surprised by this one.  I was on the fence about her the first week, but I've really liked her for the past couple.  I think she's got good prospects.
• Paige--I like her voice, but I can't believe her odd song choices didn't get her the boot.
• Lacey--Completely surprised by this one.  Love her hair, but I don't think she'll last long.
• Andrew--Like Katie, Andrew hasn't lived up to the hype with the judges, but I still hold out a lot of hope for my boy Andrew.
• Casey--Still pretty and still mostly impressing me.  
• Big Mike--His "This Woman's Work" was amazing, and I love how much fun he's having.
• Tim--Oh, how I know teenage girls.  He deserved to have his butt handed to him after the first week, but last night's performance was redemptive.  There was more than one Ellen proud of him.
• Lee--I'm sorry I didn't believe in Lee enough to pick him from the outset.  I think it was because he said "shut up" eighty-five times when he made the top 24.  He's improved a lot since then.
• Aaron--I like Aaron, and I'm rooting for him in an underdog sense, but I am surprised he's still around.

From this point forward, I shall strive to keep all my AI thoughts confined to facebook, in hopes that I don't alienate my imaginary non-fan readers.

mission accomplished

Lately I've been having trouble accomplishing things.  It's come through here in the blog, as my post frequency has slowed, and I've got something like five drafts of partial posts that I can't seem to finish.  It's come through in my reading life, as one of those post drafts will recount in too much detail if I ever get it finished.  I haven't knitted much since the snow days when I finished that baby hat.  My house is a mess, perhaps even more than usual.  And even though I'm moving all my possessions to a new place later this month, I've done almost nothing to prepare for that. 

The one thing that I have been accomplishing lately has been mentioned a couple times here, and I'm proud to report to you today, imaginary readers, that I can cross it off my list.  After countless hours wasted in front of my laptop, I got caught up on Lost.

*******SPOILER ALERT: If you continue reading, you may encounter plot points from the first five seasons and the first few eps of season six.  I won't even begin to put myself through figuring out how to write this spoiler-free.********

Honestly, I'm still not sure exactly how I feel.  This past weekend, when I was only a couple of episodes into season 5, I was at work which meant I could only think about Lost instead of watching it.  I tried to really pin myself down about why I had gotten so tired of it and quit watching.  The only thing I've ever been able to articulate about it is that the show got stupid.  I still stand by that.  The crazy physicist and the temporal displacement and the island-moving just took things too far.  My suspension of disbelief was stuck back in Jacob's cabin with Jack's dead dad and the smoke monster, and I couldn't take any more ridiculous.  When I forced myself past the ridiculous this time, I found more crazy waiting for me, but maybe, just maybe, it did redeem itself a bit.

My favorite thing about the show has always been the characters, their backstories, their personal agendas, and all the "coincidences" of their pre-island lives.  Sayid and Jack are my faves, but I love nearly everyone.  And even with those that aren't my favorites, I can appreciate all the work that the show has done creating these people and showing us their lives and flaws and motivations.  They're seriously well-drawn characters--they make me care, perhaps more than is strictly healthy when we're talking about fictitious folk here.  So the more the show moved towards the island as a character, the less interested I have become.  Plus my innate nosiness could only survive so many years without answers before I had to make a break.  And Ben Linus irks me, though I appreciate that someone has to be the antagonist.


But I realized something more on Saturday before I was caught up, and perhaps it's the real reason I got so fed up.  Everyone's miserable, always.  Perhaps more accurately, Sayid's miserable always, and Jack's miserable, except for those two or three scenes in a season four flash forward when he and Kate and Aaron are playing house, before she does the favor for Sawyer and he gets hopped up on pills.  And I guess I could only tolerate three and a half seasons of abject misery before I got tired of it all, and I had to quit watching to save myself from being miserable too.  Rewatching it this time has been easier because I haven't had to wait a week or through an eight month hiatus to find out if these characters that I learned to love back in 2005 ever catch a break.

Now that I'm caught up again and have seen the twenty-four episodes that aired since I quit the show, I still don't know exactly how I feel about it.  I think the focus has shifted back to the characters more, which is good.  But the misery is still alive and well and beating everyone up all the time.  Poor John Locke.  Poor Sayid.  Poor Sawyer (who, by the way, I'm never going to call James).  They make my heart hurt.  And I have questions streaming from my pores about the "flash sideways." 


I know I'll be able to finish out this final season now.  But let me promise you now that if the ending is as vague and hopeless as I am afraid it may be, I will be so sorry I ever let myself care, and I'll think twice before trusting J.J. Abrams again.

On the bright side, now that this catch-up session is complete, maybe I can accomplish things in my life once more--but perhaps only after I kick the stupid cold that decided to attack me on Sunday.

neglecting y'all

I can't believe it's Wednesday already.  And you, poor imaginary readers, haven't had a peep from me since Friday.  Bless your hearts, how are you holding up?

It has not escaped my notice that I haven't posted my project 4:4 post for last week's reading.  It was not an earth-shattering week of reading, lots of Leviticus, and I didn't get my Sunday wrap-up at church because my moma was in the state, and we were in the Beeb with the rest of the fam.  It's a shame that I haven't gotten the blog out there yet because I was actually a really good daily reader.  Way to go, Lent.

True confession time:  another reason I've been ignoring my faithful readers is stupid tv.  A few weeks ago, I decided that although I'd quit watching Lost at the end of season 4 over a year ago I wanted to get caught up and watch this last season as it was happening.  Facebook statuses had already ruined a few things for me, and I knew I couldn't live in my world and make it to the end of this season without major spoilers.  So thanks to the fact that the first five seasons are available on hulu right now, I've started back at the beginning.  When I quit watching it, I was really fed up by how dumb I thought it had gotten, but all my friends who stuck with it assure me that it's better.  Still I chose to start with season 1 so I could refresh myself on the parts I actually liked.  Unfortunately, the current season won't be on hulu indefinitely, so I've got to get caught up before the premier expires.  It's a pretty tight schedule to get it done in time, but I'm working on it.  And clearly, blogging is the casualty of my current obsession.

In other tv news, American Idol is finally finished with the painful drama of auditions and Hollywood week, so I can actually start watching and caring.  I've got some favorites in the top 24, but I've decided that I'm not voting this year.  After Tuesday night's show, I predicted the six girls who will make the top 12.  I'm watching the boys right now, so by the time I publish I may have those picks for you.
If I were up to my usual journalistic standards, I would definitely find some photos or links or something, but I just don't have it in me.  So here are my girls:

Katie Stevens--I think she has the voice that the judges like the most, and she's so young and cute, that America can't help but vote for her.  I don't disapprove.  I like her.

Crystal Bowersox--She's the anti-Idol, and I think it's definitely going to work for her.  There are few girls this year with some quirk, but in this blogger's opinion she's the most stand-out and the most talented.  She is my favorite girl.

Katelyn Epperly--Her performance this week was surprising.  I didn't expect her to be so grown-up or serious, and I think that will work for her.  Although I'd be fine if her hair calmed down a little.

Michelle Delamor--I don't remember seeing her really at all before this week's performance, but I was impressed.  She's very polished and distinct, which I hope will work in her favor.

Janell Wheeler/Didi Benami--Yes, I realize that they are two different people.  Since both of these girls made it to the top 24, I've been calling them the twins.  They both have long blond hair.  They're both cute, and they both played the guitar in Hollywood.  I like them both, but when they're not on the screen at the same time, I can't tell which one is which.  I feel like one, but not both, will not make it to the top 12, and I think Janell is the slightly better, cuter one.

Ashley Rodriguez--I'm the least confident about this one, but Ashley is the girl I'd like to see round this out.  I wouldn't be surprised if Haeley or Siobhan made it, but if Haeley makes the top 12, I may have to quit watching.  I like Ashley though.

Okay, since Firefox crashed and lost me a significant amount of hard work, and I had to recreate it in its current less polished and significantly less funny glory, I've had time to get through the boys' performances, so here are my top six guy predictions:

Andrew Garcia--I've been loving this guy since before he did Paula Abdul in Hollywood (though that did buy him a lot of time for me), and I'm sorry that the judges weren't feeling him tonight because I am a giant Andrew fan, and I think he's clearly the most talented guy.

Casey James--I'm ready for all the Cougar Kara stuff to calm down so Casey can focus on winning and marrying me.  He's so pretty.  But more importantly, I think he did a really great job tonight with "Heaven."

Todrick Hall--Clearly not the strongest voice, but he's such a great performer that he's a no-brainer for the top six boys.  I'm not much of a fan, but I think he's probably important to the process.

Michael Lynche--I kinda thought he should have been home with his wife while she gave birth instead of in Hollywood trying out for a tv show, but I really like Big Mike.  I think he's fun, and I think he's definitely better than a lot of the boy crop.

Joe Muñoz--I wasn't blown away by him tonight, but I think he's going to step up in the next couple of weeks.  Voice-wise, he deserves to be in the top 12, and he's cute enough to get there, I think.

Tim Urban--Speaking of cute, I think Tim's sweet, little face is going to be enough to get him into the top 12.  His performance wasn't great, but he wasn't alone in that tonight.  I think Simon's praise of Lee might be enough to edge Tim out, but I believe in the power of the teenage girl to influence Idol outcomes, so I'm sticking with Tim.

I will definitely come back and revisit this in a couple weeks when we get to the top 12, and I'll own up to my mistakes just as honestly as I'll gloat over my successes.  If you're not an Idol fan, apologies.  I've been sorry for everything else today, might as well add that to the list.