So I joined up with the facebookage. Apparently you can play Scrabble but I have yet to do that. I have, however, made "new" friends and even had my marriage validated. ;-)
I just found this blog that I started and saved. And then probably got distracted and clearly forgot about it. I have no idea what I was going to talk about after the facebook marriage validation, though.
So....
yeah. that's all I've got today.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
On Becoming a Locavore
I started Plenty, and I have to admit that I'm tearing through it. I've finished more than half in just over a day. Not only are they journalists -- and therefore fairly reliable as the "if your mom says she's loves you, check three sources" school of thought is ingrained in them -- but they're foodies. Both of these are completely palatable to me. (No pun intended. apparently relatable isn't a word and the only suggestion that worked from the spell check is palatable. hee hee.)
The way that they are experiencing their food is completely jealous-making. I want to pick strawberries and think it's the best thing I've ever tasted. I want to taste-test honey and realize that there is so much more than I ever imagined to it. I want to get to know the fisherman and farmers....and oh wait. I live in land-locked Dallas. So not really any fisherman. I might be adventurous in my food, but even I won't ever eat anything that comes out of the trinity.
So I went to localharvest.org, a wonderful site devoted to local farmers, ranchers, food producers. I found two farms roughly 40 miles away - one in Argyle and one in Terrel. I've contacted both for information. I also found a honey farm in Lavon - which is just north east of Wylie and only 30 miles away. I love honey. I put it in so much that it's considered one of my staples. Apparently, there's also way to make jam using honey instead of sugar. I would love to make my own jam.
But today I'm baking up something decidedly un-local: mini apple pies. Cup pies? apple tartlets? I bought two pie crusts (I hate making pie crust from scratch) and a bunch of apples and after I go to the library (but before the Burlesque class) I'm going to whip up some pies. It's a good thing Steve takes a lot of the baked goods to work!
PS - Finished TWOC. I <3 Graham Joyce. This one was right up there with what I expect from him. A coming of age story about a damaged young man. Very, Very good. Pick it up if you're so inclined. You won't regret it.
The way that they are experiencing their food is completely jealous-making. I want to pick strawberries and think it's the best thing I've ever tasted. I want to taste-test honey and realize that there is so much more than I ever imagined to it. I want to get to know the fisherman and farmers....and oh wait. I live in land-locked Dallas. So not really any fisherman. I might be adventurous in my food, but even I won't ever eat anything that comes out of the trinity.
So I went to localharvest.org, a wonderful site devoted to local farmers, ranchers, food producers. I found two farms roughly 40 miles away - one in Argyle and one in Terrel. I've contacted both for information. I also found a honey farm in Lavon - which is just north east of Wylie and only 30 miles away. I love honey. I put it in so much that it's considered one of my staples. Apparently, there's also way to make jam using honey instead of sugar. I would love to make my own jam.
But today I'm baking up something decidedly un-local: mini apple pies. Cup pies? apple tartlets? I bought two pie crusts (I hate making pie crust from scratch) and a bunch of apples and after I go to the library (but before the Burlesque class) I'm going to whip up some pies. It's a good thing Steve takes a lot of the baked goods to work!
PS - Finished TWOC. I <3 Graham Joyce. This one was right up there with what I expect from him. A coming of age story about a damaged young man. Very, Very good. Pick it up if you're so inclined. You won't regret it.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I love me a good project
Ok, first off, I was trolling through archives of The Sartorialist over lunch and I came across the perfect location for my tatoo:
It won't be stars, of course. But I like that back there. I know it's there and unless I wear my hair up, you might not know it. Now I just need a design....and someone to hold my hand ;-)
So, bragging a bit. After focusing on the kitchen for this condo that we're renovating and spending a morning at IKEA last week I found myself dissatisfied with the state of our kitchen. In case you've never been here, this is what it looked like before:
It won't be stars, of course. But I like that back there. I know it's there and unless I wear my hair up, you might not know it. Now I just need a design....and someone to hold my hand ;-)
So, bragging a bit. After focusing on the kitchen for this condo that we're renovating and spending a morning at IKEA last week I found myself dissatisfied with the state of our kitchen. In case you've never been here, this is what it looked like before:
Pay no attention to the stacks of samples and random crap piled around. It's how I live. I'm convinced that one day all of those little piles will burst into flames and then I won't have to deal with them. Perhaps I should get a fire extinguisher in anticipation...
Anyway, what is missing is another worktop and some space in that back corner. So, while I watched Panic Room (David Fincher, LOVE HIM) I pushed the furniture around. The end result:
I still have a bit of re-organizing to do, but for the most part I'm happy with the result. Wonder what Steve will think when he gets home...
On a side note, I've named my business (tax-laws require me to have a DBA...) and set up an email/blog for it: embritadesign.blogspot.com. It's nothing yet, but it over the next few weeks I'll upload some of the showers that I've hosted/styled and edited photos from the kitchen re-arrange and various other little projects. Might as well make use of the name, right?
I'll leave you with the video for the song I've had stuck in my head all day...just to share the misery ;-) (I'd also like to point out the rolled sleeves on his white Choose Life t-shirt...and the feathered hair. I think I sported both of those looks at one point...)
Anyway, what is missing is another worktop and some space in that back corner. So, while I watched Panic Room (David Fincher, LOVE HIM) I pushed the furniture around. The end result:
I took the cedar chest and shoved it under the window into the corner with one of Steve's favorite giant pillows. Hello, window seat/reading spot. That chest has spent time under the window already but it got moved for Christmas. That's not the final home of that clock, but I'm not sure where I want it to live permanently. The top that's on top of the white chest is the top to Steve's old coffee table, legs lost in a move. It was replaced with the swag square table in the third picture. Glad I could re-purpose it, since it's been collecting dust bunnies under the couch for close to a year.
I still have a bit of re-organizing to do, but for the most part I'm happy with the result. Wonder what Steve will think when he gets home...
On a side note, I've named my business (tax-laws require me to have a DBA...) and set up an email/blog for it: embritadesign.blogspot.com. It's nothing yet, but it over the next few weeks I'll upload some of the showers that I've hosted/styled and edited photos from the kitchen re-arrange and various other little projects. Might as well make use of the name, right?
I'll leave you with the video for the song I've had stuck in my head all day...just to share the misery ;-) (I'd also like to point out the rolled sleeves on his white Choose Life t-shirt...and the feathered hair. I think I sported both of those looks at one point...)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Books, etc.
Steve is cooking steak. It smells yummy. Hangar steak, wet aged (if anyone knows what that means aside from Steve and the Butcher) rubbed with some seasoning and thrown on our electric grill. There are zucchini and potatoes being par-boiled as well. Wonder if we have any wine....? We were going to do risotto, but we're out of chicken broth and I had no desire to go to the store.
Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night so I read a book. My cousin recommended it and I have to say that I enjoyed it. Frenemies, by Megan Crane. Bits of it were predictable, but since I read it in one sitting it didn't suck entirely. I remember laughing at parts of it, too. And commiserating.
Today I started TWOC, by Graham Joyce. He's one of my favorite writers. He always writes a straight-forward novel and then there's some little twist that makes you cock your head and wonder if he's fucking with you or if it's really been that way all along. And it's totally believable. Like, she's not a full on read-your-mind psychic, but she knows things. She dreams/sees/feels them. She knows what's going on. Which is a common theme, I know, but when it's well done it's very interesting to watch. Particularly if the other characters are well written to play off of it. TWOC I'm only a few chapters into, and it's Young Adult (not all of his books are) so I'm not sure where the twist is, yet. But it's good. Of course it's good. It's Graham Joyce.
The other book I finished yesterday (earlier in the day...when work is slow, Emily reads a lot.) is Touchstone, by Laurie R King. If I could write half as good as she does I'd be published several times over by now. Touchstone is a stand-alone book, but she has two series - the Kate Martinelli books and the Mary Russel books. All suspense/murder mysteries. Not all historical (Kate Martinelli is current to the time they were written, but she enjoys post WWI as well) and not all set in England (Kate is in San Fransisco) but all page-turners.
I did a bit of digging around in my past yesterday, too. For this family tree project. It would appear that not only do I have a Patriot, but less than 100 years before that big thumbing of the nose at England, there were ancestors who thumbed their noses at Germany and came with the Mennonites to settle Germantown, Pennsylvania. There's an odd feeling associated with this. I spent much of my life feeling rootless -- my father was in the military so we moved a lot and then he left my mom and life went the way it did and I never really felt like I had a home. There were places I belonged, yes. And places where I stored my things, but none of it felt permanent.
I looked forward to that changing with Steve, and it did. Slowly. After that initial oddness of living together - that feeling of being a visitor in your own home - I assumed that home was wherever he was. And now that I'm digging around in my roots (interesting visual -- I can see the bottom of some Huck Finn type character sticking in the air while from the waist-up they're buried in the root system of a tree) and finding that they go as deeply as they do -- and they make the statement that they make -- I want to create that here. Even as nebulous as it is right now, the knowledge that my ancestors Did Something is motivation. Yes, archiving it is important, but shouldn't I make a stand for something? Do Something? I'm stuck in the What of the What To Do and so far it's manifested in early-spring cleaning. Which isn't bad, in itself. Charity starts at home.
And right now it's starting with my husband dishing up dinner. :-D
Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night so I read a book. My cousin recommended it and I have to say that I enjoyed it. Frenemies, by Megan Crane. Bits of it were predictable, but since I read it in one sitting it didn't suck entirely. I remember laughing at parts of it, too. And commiserating.
Today I started TWOC, by Graham Joyce. He's one of my favorite writers. He always writes a straight-forward novel and then there's some little twist that makes you cock your head and wonder if he's fucking with you or if it's really been that way all along. And it's totally believable. Like, she's not a full on read-your-mind psychic, but she knows things. She dreams/sees/feels them. She knows what's going on. Which is a common theme, I know, but when it's well done it's very interesting to watch. Particularly if the other characters are well written to play off of it. TWOC I'm only a few chapters into, and it's Young Adult (not all of his books are) so I'm not sure where the twist is, yet. But it's good. Of course it's good. It's Graham Joyce.
The other book I finished yesterday (earlier in the day...when work is slow, Emily reads a lot.) is Touchstone, by Laurie R King. If I could write half as good as she does I'd be published several times over by now. Touchstone is a stand-alone book, but she has two series - the Kate Martinelli books and the Mary Russel books. All suspense/murder mysteries. Not all historical (Kate Martinelli is current to the time they were written, but she enjoys post WWI as well) and not all set in England (Kate is in San Fransisco) but all page-turners.
I did a bit of digging around in my past yesterday, too. For this family tree project. It would appear that not only do I have a Patriot, but less than 100 years before that big thumbing of the nose at England, there were ancestors who thumbed their noses at Germany and came with the Mennonites to settle Germantown, Pennsylvania. There's an odd feeling associated with this. I spent much of my life feeling rootless -- my father was in the military so we moved a lot and then he left my mom and life went the way it did and I never really felt like I had a home. There were places I belonged, yes. And places where I stored my things, but none of it felt permanent.
I looked forward to that changing with Steve, and it did. Slowly. After that initial oddness of living together - that feeling of being a visitor in your own home - I assumed that home was wherever he was. And now that I'm digging around in my roots (interesting visual -- I can see the bottom of some Huck Finn type character sticking in the air while from the waist-up they're buried in the root system of a tree) and finding that they go as deeply as they do -- and they make the statement that they make -- I want to create that here. Even as nebulous as it is right now, the knowledge that my ancestors Did Something is motivation. Yes, archiving it is important, but shouldn't I make a stand for something? Do Something? I'm stuck in the What of the What To Do and so far it's manifested in early-spring cleaning. Which isn't bad, in itself. Charity starts at home.
And right now it's starting with my husband dishing up dinner. :-D
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Chick Flicks, Emo, and Reefer, Oh My!
To begin with, Friday night found me at the Studio Movie Grill in Addison. By now, everyone know that going above 635 for too long tends to give me, as an esteemed colleague put it "a nosebleed." Some might say it's because I'm a downright snob, but others tend to agree with me -- it's like a different country up there.
(side note: Steve just come in from working out in the building weight room and apparently there's a guy who lives on our floor that could take out Steve, myself, and then Chuck Norris. Taking out Steve? Challenging, but doable. Taking out me? I'm scrappy. I got rage in me. ;-) Chuck Norris....I was doubtful until Steve informed me that said Guy was kick boxing wearing only gardening gloves. yeah.)
Anyway -back to Friday. I headed north for the express purpose of Movie Night with The Girls. It would up being Movie Night with The Girl, due to illness/injury/work. But it was still fun. I caught up with said Girl, whom I don't see very often, and we watched a movie that I enjoyed more than I intended to. Fool's Gold. I went for the company and the fact that you can drink at this particular theater. But when you add a pint to the already yummy half-naked Matthew McConaughey and some surprisingly funny one liners from Kate Hudson - you get a movie that's worth your time. Also, Kate Hudson has No Boobs, which makes me feel better about mine ;-)
Yesterday evening I spent with other friends, educating some on the benefits of Reefer -- mostly hemp, that is. Anything that can be made with petroleum/oil can be made with hemp oil. And anything you use fibers for - robe, clothing, paper, etc - you can use hemp fibers for. So it would make sense that the answer to a lot of our current problems would be solved by switching from oil-based production to hemp based production.
Also - if you're having trouble gaining weight, fighting nausea, having panic attacks....the ganja will help with all of that. :-)
I should seriously be on a presidential cabinet. That way I'm not necessarily in the spotlight, but I'm helping shape policy. I'm reading a book (Touchstone, Laurie R King...everything she writes is GREATNESS) and one of the characters is the eldest daughter of a (fictional) Noble British family. Over 800 years of nobility flow through her veins and she uses all of this breeding to steer men to her way of thinking. She's smooth, she offers up third options when neither man can see beyond his own opinion, and she still manages to be well liked and respected. I'm going to work on embodying that. Refined, graceful diplomacy. And then maybe the next time a client tells me that it's our fault the color of the carpet she had customed colored turns yellow in the sunlight (!!!!!) I'll think of something to say other than "Were you accosted by a man in a yellow suit as a child?" She has a thing against yellow that I don't even begin to understand.
Completely unrelated change of subject with no discernible segue: I'm trying to make up a cd of good old school "emo." Although I think when we were listening to it the first time around we called it "the maudlin sounds of seattle" or something equally pretentious. Now the kids call it Emo. It's an entire lifestyle. Luckily for us, it involves considerably more hygiene than grunge. And less plaid. So far I've only got a few songs, but I've only just started compilation. What do I have, you ask? I've got Letting The Cables Sleep - by Bush, and #1 Crush, by Garbage. This cd will be for 13 year old girls so it can't be overtly anything much worse than PG-13, which leaves out Stabbing Westward. Unfortunately. I'll be trolling my cds to see what I can find, but suggestions are always welcome. And to put you in the mood, here's video for Letting the Cables Sleep. Gavin Rossdale is Hot, even if he is married to Gwen Stefani. (which seems so appropriate when you consider their timelines...)
(side note: Steve just come in from working out in the building weight room and apparently there's a guy who lives on our floor that could take out Steve, myself, and then Chuck Norris. Taking out Steve? Challenging, but doable. Taking out me? I'm scrappy. I got rage in me. ;-) Chuck Norris....I was doubtful until Steve informed me that said Guy was kick boxing wearing only gardening gloves. yeah.)
Anyway -back to Friday. I headed north for the express purpose of Movie Night with The Girls. It would up being Movie Night with The Girl, due to illness/injury/work. But it was still fun. I caught up with said Girl, whom I don't see very often, and we watched a movie that I enjoyed more than I intended to. Fool's Gold. I went for the company and the fact that you can drink at this particular theater. But when you add a pint to the already yummy half-naked Matthew McConaughey and some surprisingly funny one liners from Kate Hudson - you get a movie that's worth your time. Also, Kate Hudson has No Boobs, which makes me feel better about mine ;-)
Yesterday evening I spent with other friends, educating some on the benefits of Reefer -- mostly hemp, that is. Anything that can be made with petroleum/oil can be made with hemp oil. And anything you use fibers for - robe, clothing, paper, etc - you can use hemp fibers for. So it would make sense that the answer to a lot of our current problems would be solved by switching from oil-based production to hemp based production.
Also - if you're having trouble gaining weight, fighting nausea, having panic attacks....the ganja will help with all of that. :-)
I should seriously be on a presidential cabinet. That way I'm not necessarily in the spotlight, but I'm helping shape policy. I'm reading a book (Touchstone, Laurie R King...everything she writes is GREATNESS) and one of the characters is the eldest daughter of a (fictional) Noble British family. Over 800 years of nobility flow through her veins and she uses all of this breeding to steer men to her way of thinking. She's smooth, she offers up third options when neither man can see beyond his own opinion, and she still manages to be well liked and respected. I'm going to work on embodying that. Refined, graceful diplomacy. And then maybe the next time a client tells me that it's our fault the color of the carpet she had customed colored turns yellow in the sunlight (!!!!!) I'll think of something to say other than "Were you accosted by a man in a yellow suit as a child?" She has a thing against yellow that I don't even begin to understand.
Completely unrelated change of subject with no discernible segue: I'm trying to make up a cd of good old school "emo." Although I think when we were listening to it the first time around we called it "the maudlin sounds of seattle" or something equally pretentious. Now the kids call it Emo. It's an entire lifestyle. Luckily for us, it involves considerably more hygiene than grunge. And less plaid. So far I've only got a few songs, but I've only just started compilation. What do I have, you ask? I've got Letting The Cables Sleep - by Bush, and #1 Crush, by Garbage. This cd will be for 13 year old girls so it can't be overtly anything much worse than PG-13, which leaves out Stabbing Westward. Unfortunately. I'll be trolling my cds to see what I can find, but suggestions are always welcome. And to put you in the mood, here's video for Letting the Cables Sleep. Gavin Rossdale is Hot, even if he is married to Gwen Stefani. (which seems so appropriate when you consider their timelines...)
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Ahhh...insomnia...
Dear Lord I wish I was asleep right now. What's a girl supposed to do at 11:30 at night when what she really wants to do is sleep and what she should be doing is taking advantage of her wakefulness by working on any of the many many projects she's halfway through....? Blog. That's what she's supposed to do. Because sleep will come when it comes and working on a project will just distract from that.
Seriously. When writing (or whatever) I'll even forget to eat. So, since sleep comes first I'll just randomly blog.
Had a follow up dr. appointment today. So far, so good. Yippie! I'm so ready to be well. And I'm so ready to stop driving to that damn hospital. I'm getting vertigo from heading so far north so often.
I went to IKEA yesterday. With a client. It was *so* fun I can't wait to go back. Seriously. We're doing this condo from the sheetrock out and so we went to get a bid for the kitchen. Yeah. You can get a reasonably priced well made kitchen from IKEA. When the time comes you should look into it. Unless you're loaded and your kitchen is huge. Then go custom. But if you're building a kitchen in a closet, IKEA is for you.
I'm going to be 30 in exactly 4 months. I'm viewing it much the way I viewed the millennium turnover: trepidatious anticipation. It's not earth-shattering. We won't suddenly run out of water or energy. Nothing's going to blow up. But there will be a subtle shift. I'm inching towards middle age.
And perhaps because of this I've been very conscious lately of the way in which people show their age. For example: movie stars, tv stars, MILFs - they all age incredibly well. They look young and vital much longer than the average person. On the other hand, crazy painter lady who is a recovering alcoholic (apparently, you're always recovering even when you need all of your fingers and some of your toes to count your years of sobriety) and a chain smoker (how do I find them...?) and when she said that she's 45 I was glad I was watching the road and some guy cut me off right as she said it because my expression was not flattering. It was surprise because I pegged her a good ten years older.
Let's just say I flossed twice instead of once and I haven't set foot in the elevator all day. Just call me the Stair Master.
one final note, because I'm actually yawning (YES!): when that stupid little rat crawled out of his hole and declared six more weeks of winter I wanted to fling rubberbands at him. I'm so ready for warmth. I want 90 degree days and 70 degree nights. I want to pull out my tank tops and flowy dresses and lay around by the pool and basically enjoy the sun....and the cancer it will give me. I'm ready. I have a feeling, though, that we'll have a few more bitterly cold days before it's all said and done. Maybe when Steve's ready to move on from the job he loves so well, and I'm all rich and famous because I've gotten off my ass and gotten myself published...we'll move to southern california. Or somewhere equally mild and luscious. Like Corsica. ;-)
Ciao!
Seriously. When writing (or whatever) I'll even forget to eat. So, since sleep comes first I'll just randomly blog.
Had a follow up dr. appointment today. So far, so good. Yippie! I'm so ready to be well. And I'm so ready to stop driving to that damn hospital. I'm getting vertigo from heading so far north so often.
I went to IKEA yesterday. With a client. It was *so* fun I can't wait to go back. Seriously. We're doing this condo from the sheetrock out and so we went to get a bid for the kitchen. Yeah. You can get a reasonably priced well made kitchen from IKEA. When the time comes you should look into it. Unless you're loaded and your kitchen is huge. Then go custom. But if you're building a kitchen in a closet, IKEA is for you.
I'm going to be 30 in exactly 4 months. I'm viewing it much the way I viewed the millennium turnover: trepidatious anticipation. It's not earth-shattering. We won't suddenly run out of water or energy. Nothing's going to blow up. But there will be a subtle shift. I'm inching towards middle age.
And perhaps because of this I've been very conscious lately of the way in which people show their age. For example: movie stars, tv stars, MILFs - they all age incredibly well. They look young and vital much longer than the average person. On the other hand, crazy painter lady who is a recovering alcoholic (apparently, you're always recovering even when you need all of your fingers and some of your toes to count your years of sobriety) and a chain smoker (how do I find them...?) and when she said that she's 45 I was glad I was watching the road and some guy cut me off right as she said it because my expression was not flattering. It was surprise because I pegged her a good ten years older.
Let's just say I flossed twice instead of once and I haven't set foot in the elevator all day. Just call me the Stair Master.
one final note, because I'm actually yawning (YES!): when that stupid little rat crawled out of his hole and declared six more weeks of winter I wanted to fling rubberbands at him. I'm so ready for warmth. I want 90 degree days and 70 degree nights. I want to pull out my tank tops and flowy dresses and lay around by the pool and basically enjoy the sun....and the cancer it will give me. I'm ready. I have a feeling, though, that we'll have a few more bitterly cold days before it's all said and done. Maybe when Steve's ready to move on from the job he loves so well, and I'm all rich and famous because I've gotten off my ass and gotten myself published...we'll move to southern california. Or somewhere equally mild and luscious. Like Corsica. ;-)
Ciao!
Monday, February 4, 2008
Super Bowl and Tsunami Tuesday
I would like to open this blog with the same thought I had this time last year: Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln am I glad there's a grace period between childless adult and parent of 3 school aged children. Because I think I slept for 12 hours straight once I got home Thursday night. And it felt GOOD. Also good? Not having to make lunch at 6:30 in the morning. I don't like making much more than cereal at 6:30 in the morning. Assuming I'm awake, that is.
Sunday night there was a game. An historic game, if what people say is true. I don't know. I'm not much for pro sports, football in particular. But I was rooting for the Giants, so that was nice. I even made Lucky Cupcakes (red velvet) for the occasion. Why was I rooting for the Giants, you ask? Because I have one of those jobs that really feels it when the economy tanks. People start to notice jobs drying up and suddenly they no longer feel the need to convert that extra room into something completely decadent - like a spa-bath or a full on Jessica Simpson-style dressing room. And they're suddenly very in love with the couch they hated two months ago. Why does this matter? Because of some theory that someone who knows posited about pre-1970 AFL teams winning the superbowl. Or something. What it boiled down to: Giants Win, Economy Soars. Patriots win, economy tanks. Go. Eli. Manning. (Also, a Friend-Who-Knows made a comment to the effect of "rooting for the Patriots is like rooting for the Nazis." I have nothing to back this up with, I'm just telling you what I heard.)
In other news: Hilary cried today. Again. She must be running for Crybaby in Chief. We all know she's human. But I'd be more moved by a new hair-do than more waterworks. Seriously. Does she think that it's stirring? That it will inspire the masses? Because she's wrong. I'm kind of looking for Heartless Bitch in my leaders. You want to lead? You have to make the hard decisions and not cry over the kitten that got in the way. Or not cry in Public, at any rate. Cry in the shower like the rest of us, lady!
If you want something moving, watch this. And remember- Scarlett Johansson is FIERCE. (For confirmation, see this.)
And remember, Vote Early and Often. As long as the primaries are in your state. If you're in Texas...March 4. You don't have to be registered with a party. Vote your conscience.
Sunday night there was a game. An historic game, if what people say is true. I don't know. I'm not much for pro sports, football in particular. But I was rooting for the Giants, so that was nice. I even made Lucky Cupcakes (red velvet) for the occasion. Why was I rooting for the Giants, you ask? Because I have one of those jobs that really feels it when the economy tanks. People start to notice jobs drying up and suddenly they no longer feel the need to convert that extra room into something completely decadent - like a spa-bath or a full on Jessica Simpson-style dressing room. And they're suddenly very in love with the couch they hated two months ago. Why does this matter? Because of some theory that someone who knows posited about pre-1970 AFL teams winning the superbowl. Or something. What it boiled down to: Giants Win, Economy Soars. Patriots win, economy tanks. Go. Eli. Manning. (Also, a Friend-Who-Knows made a comment to the effect of "rooting for the Patriots is like rooting for the Nazis." I have nothing to back this up with, I'm just telling you what I heard.)
In other news: Hilary cried today. Again. She must be running for Crybaby in Chief. We all know she's human. But I'd be more moved by a new hair-do than more waterworks. Seriously. Does she think that it's stirring? That it will inspire the masses? Because she's wrong. I'm kind of looking for Heartless Bitch in my leaders. You want to lead? You have to make the hard decisions and not cry over the kitten that got in the way. Or not cry in Public, at any rate. Cry in the shower like the rest of us, lady!
If you want something moving, watch this. And remember- Scarlett Johansson is FIERCE. (For confirmation, see this.)
And remember, Vote Early and Often. As long as the primaries are in your state. If you're in Texas...March 4. You don't have to be registered with a party. Vote your conscience.
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