this is blowing my mind

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Jupiter_atmosphere.jpg

if your upper lip is sweaty at 8:30 AM, this must be...May?

K, so it's hot in Seattle. Hotty hot hot. It got really hot yesterday. In fact, it reached NINETY DEGREES. I know it's almost June, but it's technically still May. I think we set a record or something. I'm not sure because I don't watch the news and hence not the weather. (My mild obsession with the weather centers on Current Conditions, not Forecast--I can get current conditions from Weatherbug!) I like hot weather, but my body's a bit shocked, and since I work in an only slightly air-conditioned office (it's a portable air conditioner,) and my preferred hot weather behavior would be lounging in the vicinity of a swimmin' pool with a frosty-cold strawberry margarita, this will take some getting used to. At least it's the dry heat, baby!

For your current conditions, measured at the Villa Academy, somewhere in the Windermere/Sandpoint neighborhood, where property owners enjoy one of the highest median home prices in Seattle, I give you: 76.7 degrees. Ai! There is even a Severe Weather Advisory in effect: HEAT ADVISORY IN EFFECT FROM NOON TODAY TO 6 PM PDT THIS EVENING. Thanks for the update, National Weather Service. (!) (It's a 'non-precipitation' advisory.)

The Dork.C.

I watched the season finale of the O.C. on tape. Because it was a well-used VHS tape, the sound cut out intermittently—this is just a disclaimer that I was not exposed to the full wit of the writers; I was still able to figure out what was going down. But could anything have saved such hackneyed, melodramatic fare?

I can’t critique Kirsten’s intervention because I missed most of the dialogue there. Jump in if you have an opinion.

They lost me when Ryan said, upon learning that his brother had attempted to sexually assault his girlfriend Marissa, “You know, man, I’ve been trying to be someone else all year. I can’t do it anymore.” (paraphrase.) Meaning: “I have assiduously avoided handing out beat-downs throughout Season 2, rendering my character rather boring.* The writers are now attempting to dump several ounces of cayenne pepper into this script by giving me an opportunity to get all Incredible Hulk on Trey’s ass.” Beat-downs can make for great TV, and hence such a declaration should be cause for celebration for the viewer. But it was so cheesy (and his hair is so bad) that my reaction was “oh puke.”

Then! At the apex of the knock-down dragout fight between Trey and Ryan, when Trey was about to bash in Ryan’s head with a phone (a phone?!), Marissa let fly with Trey’s gat, retrieved from the floor. Trey is hit with a bullet in slow motion, his lips bloodied instantaneously, and he slumps to the floor while giving Marissa the big ol' stink eye, or maybe an eye that said “What, you?! Assault victim?! Whoda thunk--”

So then we arrive at the point where I truly threw up my hands. Trey is shot and lying on the floor. Ryan stumbles over to the doorway, where Shooter Cooper (Marissa) and newly arrived Seth and Summer are now huddled. And what happens as the camera pans back and fades away on Season 2? Do they check him for a pulse? Do they summon medical help via 911? No, these self-possessed teenagers, one of whom plans school dances like a professional event coordinator and one of whom is a partner in his own business venture, aka graphic novel, stand there like idiots and watch Trey bleed. Sheesh, last week Julie Cooper dove into the pool to drag out Caleb’s cardiac-arresting ass--and she’s been shown to be a conniving, shallow, and sometimes stupid BYOTCH who an hour before was plotting to slip him an overdose of sleeping pills!!!! You’d think four upstanding young people would have amongst them the collective crisis management skills to summon medical aid, even if he did assault Marissa. I was disgusted.

I’m just glad it was the finale so I can have a cooling-off period before next season. They’re lucky there’s not another episode next week. Because I wouldn’t watch. And I bet that would really hurt everybody involved with the “O.C.” Deeply. I’m totally going to quit buying the Neutrogena products Mischa Barton hawks on the commercial breaks.

*Props to Wm. Steven Humphrey over at The Stranger for pointing this out!

I love being a FREAK!!!

You know that GAP commercial with lots of pink and khaki and Sarah Jessica “My head is disproportionately large compared to my undernourished body” Parker is dancing and skipping and singing some dry-heave-inducing song to the effect that she “love(s) being a girl!”?

If they haven’t already, someone needs to make a blackly comic parody of that commercial. Here is a handy list of elements to incorporate:

-pants won’t fit because of PMS-induced bloating
-breasts hurt periodically
-getting paid less for the same job
-higher incidence of clinical depression
-wearing uncomfortable shoes
-possibility of body being hijacked by proto-human for nine months
etc.

I’m not feeling particularly bitter about being a woman; I could come up with an even longer list of things I like (that time I batted my eyelashes and got on the Bainbridge Island ferry for free), but that commercial really deserves a brutal riposte. Alas, with my lack of technical knowhow, it shall not be me. So just imagine it for me, dear reader.

technology is hard.

marmot

marmot, originally uploaded by NiceMarmot.

don't i look nice?

you can't always get what you want

I used to mock my mother because she would go to the store, reach for the Yoplait Strawberry, and end up with Yoplait Strawberry-Banana. (yick.) She'd reach for Windex, and end up with Tilex. One time to my sister's and my delight, she reached for regular Cheerios (only low-sugar cereals in our house, natch) and came home with *Honey Nut* Cheerios. I never understood this--you've identified the product visually, you're moving in for the kill and--you have a hand-spasm while your eyes are closed? A magnetic force in the other product yanks your hand to it and you toss it over your shoulder into the cart? Someone in a Funny Hat walks down the aisle and distracts you? Anyway, in my younger years I had no sympathy for this type of inattention, especially when it produced Straw-bana yogurt.

Last Sunday, I moved in at Susse's and we went to the grocery store to lay in supplies. At the "white-people" grocery store,* I picked up some Cinnamon Toast Crunch. (Due to my childhood deprivation--no sugary cereals--my taste in cereals tends to be rather juvenile.) I had a few bowls throughout the week, and thought they tasted a bit funny. (You already know where this is going!) I hadn't finished the box by the time I moved out of Susse's and into the Silver Cloud Inn with MSH, so I brought Cinnamon Toast Crunch with me, and took it down to the breakfast room with me this morning, because the cereal selection there is bad. This gave me the opportunity to sit in front of the cereal box for the first time all week. I discovered, of course, that I had inadvertently purchased "Reduced Sugar" Cinnamon Toast Crunch--reduced by 75%,! And how do they do it, folks? I won't shock you when I tell you: they put in Splenda instead. The Marmot, she does not approve of the Splenda. Not at all. Skeevy. NO WONDER it tasted not-so-satisfying, by gumbo! I considered just marooning the box on the table in the breakfast room, but I took it with me and drove to work. I will dispose of it later, when I can recycle the box.

This is not the only time this has happened! Only lastnight, we stopped at Walgreen's so MSH could buy a notebook, and I noticed a new flavor of Twix bar at the checkout--Dark Chocolate Twix. How intriguing! Yet, I walked out of the store with regular old Milk Chocolate Twix. Foiled again! Obviously this is part of the aging process, along with forgetting where you're driving and what you're about to say, and blubbering at romantic comedies.

*That's MSH's nomenclature, not mine, so you can take it up with him once he sets up a blog. I don't really see the point--he uses it to distinguish Safeway, for example, from the "hippie grocery store" where I like to shop, but there are just as few or fewer people of color shopping at the hippie co-op grocery store, in my experience, than at Safeway! I guess it means the opposite of exotic or organic--he complains when I buy organic no-hormone, no-antibiotic milk, and wishes I would buy "white-people milk."

***UPDATED TO ADD***
Mink, friend of Marmot in NYC, weighs in on racially-designated milk:
"You might mention to your hubby that 'white-person milk' might more appropriately apply to the organic, non-hormone, etc. type of milk, because it's the white people who can afford to worry about things like that. One might call regular milk 'people of color & people who trust that extra hormones won't give them cancer,etc. ' milk!"

Yes, Mink, but if I were to mention that to him, it would emphasize to him that I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HIM ON THIS BLOG. He reads it very occasionally, so it's not a secret or anything, but still. One wants to preserve the idea that at least part of the time, one is in raptures about how wonderful one's partner is, and how everything he does is art. I do! There are times! I just don't know if it makes for good blogging, all that mush!

New Dentist!

On Monday I went to my new dentist. I switched dentists at the behest of MSH who complained that because his company had switched dental plans, Dr. A was not a "preferred provider" on the new plan.* So, I looked up the preferred providers on the new plan and chose Dr. H because she is right by my office and speaks French in addition to Vietnamese and that American favorite, English.

So first I had to do some resourceful phone finagling because I don't have a dental plan ID card.** Then I filled out the most comprehensive health history I've ever seen. Once in the chair, Dr. H spent more time with me than any dentist I've seen in years, reviewed my health history, and asked me more questions. Like when I was younger, did I see a dentist regularly and did I have fluoride treatments. She discussed brushing habits with me--as MSH has been telling me, you're supposed to brush in the morning whether you've had your breakfast already or not--you have to disturb the bacteria! The bacteria cause the cavities, not the food! (They eat the food.) She did some plaque removal herself before the hygienist came in and did the spinning rubber thingy. And she refined my Sonicare technique--I was causing mild recession to my gums because I was holding it at the wrong angle to the gumline!!! Recession is my biggest dental fear so I was at attention. She told me to use a manual toothbrush in the morning and Sonicare at night, because the Sonicare is more "aggressive." She pointed out that I grind my teeth--my front teeth are very flat, top and bottom. No other dentist had pointed this out before, and according to her, it's not a new development based on the level of...flatness. Flatitude! So I may be getting a mouthguard thingy. To sum up, she was perceptive, smart and very, very nice. And her office and dental chairs hadn't been updated in a while. This may be bad for some people, but I appreciate it. It means the dentist definitely isn't financing fancy whizzbang decor and equipment by pushing expensive unnecessary cosmetic dental procedures on his or her patients. A coworker told me recently that he was offered an iPod Shuffle to listen to while he was getting his teeth cleaned, and lights and sirens started flashing and whooping in my head. Of course, he lives in Belltown, so whaddayagonnado?

But I digress.

So: visit to the dentist was educational, beneficial--I'm a big fan of this new dentist. Of course, I haven't had the cavity she spotted (WHICH WAS ON MY LAST X-RAY FROM Dr. A BUT HE MISSED!) filled yet. Maybe I'll be grouchier after that.

I know you all are anxiously awaiting my riveting analysis of the season finale of the O.C., but the sad fact is I haven't watched it yet, and I know I'll provoke pity when I tell you that I was getting a fabulous full-body massage instead. My friend G just graduated (with honors and a 4.0!) from massage school and bestowed massages on me and friend H.*** Luckily, thoughtful friend Susse taped the finale and I shall be watching it soon. It must have been good because Susse watched, even though she never watches that show, and was so scandalized she could barely keep from telling me everything that happened.

In other news, the ivory-billed woodpecker has been rediscovered in Arkansas, those missing kids in Idaho were spotted by a store proprietor in Bonner's Ferry, and the identity of the Piano Man remains a mystery. I wish you a delectable Friday!!!!

*****************************************
*Now, MSH didn't communicate to me in any way that his company had switched plans. I had to wait until I had my next appointment, after which Dr. A's office billed the wrong insurance, billed us, I had to call his company's corporate office to get the new information, and have Dr. A's office rebill. Or something like that. Point is: information is often not dispensed from MSH to myself on a need-to-know basis. More like a "wha-huh?" basis.

**Something MSH was given at work that he neglected to give to me? Who can say? If a coworker gave birth outside his office, he'd forget to tell me. But that's cool. That's cool.

***H has some of the cutest kidlets in the whole world, btw.

trumpy, trumpy, trumpy!

We interrupt this blog's normally scheduled navel-gazing to bring you a brief Commentary on Current Events. To begin with, we invite you to skim this "Hardball" interview with Donald Trump.

Now let's browse through images of Trump's buildings, extant and planned, shall we?:

http://members.aol.com/nycskyscrp2/apts/trumptwr.htm (this is the one the contestants bunk in on "The Apprentice.")

http://www.trumpgrande.com/TrumpRoyale.htm

http://www.trumplv.com/

http://www.condohotelcenter.com/industry-news/in57.htm

http://www.thehighrisepages.de/hhkartei/chitrump.htm

Now the Chicago one doesn't look too bad, but most of his buildings are unremarkable, and some are ugly!! An architecture critic he's not.

Update

I have now been at Susse's for three days. It's lovely! I walk more and because of the excellent company, miss my husband only slightly. It's been raining off and on, nixing my clever plan of wearing sandals most of the time. So today I'm on the last pair of socks I packed. Guess I'll load up the dirty laundry and head down to the nearest stream to pound my wet clothes between large rocks until they're clean.

I found out my coworker's severe bad mood, which lasted 48 hours but seems to be somewhat alleviated this morning, was caused by work stuff.

Off to do credit to corporate America! I leave you with brief musings on NYC vs. Seattle, which I wrote just after getting back, but I *think* I never posted. If I've already posted this, please send a virtual rotten tomato my way!
***************************************************************
(written 4.25.05)

Coming Back to Seattle After Being in New York City

Many of my pleasant feelings upon coming home may be due to the fact that it’s a gorgeous sunny day here, spring hinting broadly at summer.

I look down the streets at green trees and lawns—in New York I would look up streets and they were canyons of buildings, impressive, imposing, not always cold—full of life, definitely. But these trees are nice. I walked down the street from my office to the grocery store, and felt how familiar the block was. It was comforting in a way, but I was a bit disappointed not to be SEEING SOMETHING NEW and different and exciting, as I had the previous four days.

Certainly, the pace is slower—-no frenetic energy, no overwhelming pulsing of crowds, palpable enthusiasm for the arts, endless choice of things to eat, see, do, hear, drink, etc. It’s more calm here. Sometimes that means boring, listless, or apathetic, but it can also mean peaceful, quiet--good things.

This just in...

Susse and I went to the 1st Annual DeLaurenti's Seattle Cheese Festival! There was cheese. And we ate it. And it was good. It was awfully crowded, though--hope the organizers plan for bigger crowds next year. We Seattleites like our cheese, yes we do!

Then we went to the last four innings of the Red Sox v. Mariners. And the Mariners won. And we had Coors Light. And it was good.

Then we went to Nordstrom and Sephora. And we tried on shiny eyeshadows. And we bought shiny eyeshadows. And that was good.

Then we went to the grocery store. Later we ate cheese with bread and watched "Desperate Housewives." At least I did, Susse industriously made some lasagna (from a recipe I got off the internet and have made previously) for a gathering with coworkers this evening. Good thing I didn't have to make the lasagna. Because the TV was on.

SUSSE: When you made this, did you [fill in culinary technique here]?
[90 seconds pass]
ME: Huh?
SUSSE: That's amazing how you can tune everything out.
ME: Sorry!

Saturday as MSH and I made final preparations for the good people at Seattle Floor Service who are refinishing our floors beginning this morning, we discovered that we could not "roll the piano into the kitchen." This had been our plan. It sounded so simple. Until we realized that the dimensions of the student upright piano don't allow it to get through the door from the living room into the hallway/kitchen. Luckily, one of the Seattle-area piano movers answers their phone at 5:30 PM on Saturdays. Blessings on his head. But he could not come until this morning. THe same morning the floor refinishers begin. Estress Pequeno.

This morning at 9:00, a lone employee of Seattle Floor Service arrived and declared he could work around the piano. And work he did. In under 40 minutes he had stripped the finish off the floors of two bedrooms, the hallway, and the living room, except for just next to the walls. Maybe he wasn't completely done stripping, but the old finish, and most importantly the nasty sticky residue covered with dirt left by the previous owner, looked gone to me. I looked at the floor. I touched it. The bare wood was beautiful. At 9:40, the good piano movers three showed up and quickly removed my dear piano and took it off to storage for one week. Piano-moving: expensive. Piano-STORING: cheap.

My coworker is in a seriously bad mood today. I've never seen her in this bad of a mood before. And I have no idea what caused it, but I hope it's not me. But if it is, she should tell me, because if you suppress anger, it can cause back pain. I can't wait to get away to the dentist in half an hour. This day, I wish I had a cubicle to hide in. I actually had a weird dream lastnight about work--our company had grown to like 100 employees, we all had cubicles, new people were coming in all the time, there was stupid bureaucracy, and I could never get a word with my (current) boss, who was wearing a maroon sweater-- a Cosby sweater, A COSBY SWEATAAAAAAH!!!!

Friday the 13th

Lastnight we were supposed to paint our bedroom, but MSH declared we would go to see a movie. And it would be “Crash.” I hadn’t heard much about it, but it has Don Cheadle in it, and that’s ALL MSH needed to know. We’re big fans of the Cheadle. Cha cha cha Cheadle! Sorry.

Background Information: This movie is about people in Los Angeles. I am white.

I give the movie three stars. It failed to garner four stars from this reviewer because it underachieved. Great ideas, excellent writing, shot VERY well, good casting (except for Jennifer Esposito—I displayed more acting talent as the French Waiter in the Ladybug Theater’s production of “Fairy Mixup” at age 9—although she definitely has way better hair.) But there were some plot points I just didn’t buy. Granted, I’m an optimist and an idealist and I live in a smaller city where race conflict is muffled, non-existent, or carefully swept under the rug (confined to specific, mostly poor neighborhoods and underreported by the mainstream media.) But I just didn’t buy that average people in everyday urban life could be that hateful to each other and that some of these otherwise peaceful characters had violence just under their skin. So you can say the writing or the acting didn’t sell it to me, or maybe you just have to be from LA to fully appreciate it—I would like to hear a perspective from someone who lives or has lived in LA!! As a movie that weaves several intersecting stories, it had moments magical, jaw-dropping, heroic, wince-inducing—definitely worth watching. But I felt like it could have been better. At several points I wanted to tell the characters, “just lighten the hell up!”—that sort of removal from the suspension of disbelief always takes the movie experience down a notch for me.

So watching this movie meant I missed watching the O.C. broadcast live—trusty ComcastTM DVR saves my behind again! I just ran home on my lunch hour and watched it. It was shocking! Dramatic! Read on.

Ryan running into ex-girlfriend baby mama (but he don’t know) in Chino, where she is totally not bitter and nurtures his relationship with Marissa? Contrived. Unrealistic. Corny.

Kirsten dissolving from a mature, self-aware, functional woman into a passive-aggressive, emotionally distant alcoholic in the space of three episodes? I ain’t buyin’ it. As Amy points out, we could buy this last season when it was Marissa—because she’s sixteen. Or whatever age you are when you go on weekend trips with your boyfriend on a regular basis, can put prom together in the space of a week, but can’t communicate your emotions, let alone word of a felonious assault to the local police.

Caleb Nichol pitching into the pool with a heart attack? Crazy! Dude, if you’re having a heart attack, LEAN TOWARD THE PLANTER!!!

But these things don’t really bother me. Something keeps me addicted to the over-the-top dramedy that is “the O.C.” Maybe it’s the clothes. Although what was Marissa wearing in that scene outside the high school—a yellow tube top with a bright Caribbean blue afghan dickey?

The big heartwarmer of the episode was Seth and Summer onstage at prom. Lovin’ it. I was also very proud of Julie Cooper-Nichol. They are redeeming her character big-time. First she’s refraining from slipping Caleb a mickey, then she’s athletically diving into the pool to try to save him. I knew they’d find a way to keep our little JuJuBe in designer outfits. ;)

One more observation: The O.C. makeup artist must like the actors’ left sides. Bruise on Marissa’s collar bone? Left side. Boo boo on Trey’s felonious noggin? Left side. Bash and black eye on boozy driver Kirsten? Left side. Hmmmmm….this could point to the nefarious conclusion that….I pay WAY too close attention to this show.

IN OTHER NEWS, one of our sales staff quit this week. First employee that’s quit since I’ve been here. Kind of a downer, also since I was sick that day. But we’ve proved Friday the 13th superstitions wrong—D. closed a big deal—and I scored with the former employee’s wireless mouse. I don’t know if this is because it’s wireless, but its movement is smooth as silk. And my desk’s feng shui is improved. Thank you, technology. Please don’t give me cancer.

My coworker just lent me “Music from the O.C., Mix 2.” SahweetAH!
Who said that Daisy Duke (in the Dukes of Hazzard movie) could be blond? Like we don't have enough blonds in movies and TV shows. Seriously people.

Despite such chicanery, have a great weekend, people!

This body is not me; I am not caught in this body
I am life without boundaries,
I have never been born and I have never died.
Over there the wide ocean and the sky with many galaxies
All manifests from the basis of consciousness
Since beginningless time I have always been free.
Birth and death are only a door through which we go in and out.
Birth and death are only a game of hide-and-seek.
So smile to me and take my hand and wave good-bye.
Tomorrow we shall meet again or even before.
We shall always be meeting again at the true source,
Always meeting again on the myriad paths of life.

-Thich Nhat Hanh

half-full

From an article on health and optimism/pessimism in the Seattle Times:

It's a spectrum, with most people falling in the middle, though Americans tend slightly to the optimistic side. We were founded by idealists after all; pessimists likely took one look at the boat and said: That'll never make it.

That bit cracks me up for some reason. Read the full article at http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/health/2002269929_healthoptimism11.html

the doopa

This weekend we went to Wenatchee for the APPLE BLOSSOM FESTIVAL!!!!

Friday night we hit town around 9:30 and headed for Bob's Classic, smackinahearta CRUISIN' territory. (Cruising is so funny to me. There was always CRUISING on the weekends on Broadway in Portland. Shortly after I moved to Seattle, I was informed that this made Portland a small town, or somewhat hickish. If there's cruising in Seattle, it's not happening on Fifth Ave.) So Wenatchee IS a small town, and at Apple Blossom, they cruise. There were some phat hoopties, lemme telya. Low-rider trucks and souped-up Mustangs and purple halogen lights in the undercarriages aimed at the street... But the streets weren't as jammed as they have been in past years. We drove straight to Bob's and found a spot in the parking lot right up front, next to a circa 1975 Mazda with $8,000 wheels. The car was painted in gray primer and the bumper was falling off. One of MSH's friends owns Bob's, so two other friends were working the door as bouncers. They didn't bounce much while we were there, though--the most crisis-related incident happened when two young lasses came up and asked us for Bandaids, to soothe one girl's blisters--she had been walking around for hours in flip-flops. Bouncer Scott came to the rescue. We went inside and had some beers (Shirley Temple for me) and mozzarella sticks while the two bouncers took turns going back to Scott's car and chugging beers. We were waiting for Madam M to show up, but she never did, so we went home at 11:30. I guess later in the night, our friends the bouncers observed but did not interfere with a fisticuffs in the parking lot between two young hooligans.

I realize now I've spent a lot of space on an evening where not much happened. I apologize.

Now the next day was more eventful--MSH left early to golf, and his mom and brother and I went to the Stemilt Growers' APPLE BLOSSOM PARADE!!! His mom had obtained tickets for the "PRIME SEATING" at the beginning of the parade. The warm-up for the parade included the Seattle Police Motorcycle Drill Team, which was pretty cool. Then there was lots of squinting and craning of necks at the sky before finally the Navy Seals parachutists (three of them) jumped out of a plane. They did acrobatic tricks on the way down, and one of the Apple Blossom princesses sang the national anthem as they descended and finally bippity bopped their landings in the ball field right behind our bleachers. There were also two separate deafening cannon shots. An auspicious beginning!

The best part of the parade for me, alumna of a marching band, was the marching bands!!! All the bands were pretty small, except for Wenatchee High's, but some of them were REALLY good--tight musically, great drum lines, full of energy and pep, and excellent music choices. Only two were really dismal. It's really not the size of the band, it must be the strength of the program, and/or the director, or the drum majors. My two favorites were Othello High School and Klahowya Secondary School. The latter I assume is in Canada, from the nomenclature.

There were two entries from Shrine Temples that cracked me up--Shriners in red mini-Mustang cars--little toy cars! and one on mini-motorcycles--both of them doing maneuvers in formation, dodging between each other. Hilarious. Big men, little vehicles.

I love a parade.

shoppity GOODness!

OK, so I know I already posted today but I must notify you forthwith about this cool thing I found out about! So my brother-in-law (MSH's brother) is getting married and I just got an invite to a shower for the bride-to-be, along with gift registry information and (this is SO SO COOL!) they are registered through this thing called the I Do Foundation (www.idofoundation.org) WHEREBY you register through regular stores (Linens'n'Things, JC Penney, Amazon, I don't know what else, that's just where they're registered) BUT a percentage of your purchase goes to a charitable organization that the couple selects. In their case they've chosen Brighthaven, which provides a home and medical care to ill and elderly critters. BUT GET THIS!! The charitable donation is at NO ADDITIONAL COST TO YOU!! Tell your friends who are getting married, this thing is THE COOLEST!!! I think the retailer must foot the bill.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Today is May 5, 2005, otherwise known as 5/5/05. Very cool. Specially because my favorite number is five. Huzzah, I say! Moreso because I am BACK. Susse and I went running this morning in balmy 55 degree weather and afterward went to a coffee shop for yum yums. I am filled with the energy and enthusiasm that deserted me during my flu, and I am ready to ROCK. I even blowdried my hair AND applied eyeliner AND I got to work on time. Sadly, my energy was not exactly infectious.

MSH: (enters bathroom)
ME: (in shower) Good MORNING, honey!
MSH: {grunt}
ME: Did you sleep OK?
MSH: {grunt}
ME: It's a beautiful day...
MSH: {grunt}

Tonight, Mike and I will celebrate all the Fiveness by moving all our bedroom furniture downstairs, picking out a paint color for the bedroom, and packing for an Apple Blossom extravaganza weekend in the hamlet of his birth. There's gonna be a parade. With marching bands. I am seriously stoked about this, people. This marmot loves a marching band.

to-do list

1. Next year, elbow elderlies and small children aside in order to be Joanie-on-the-spot receiving flu vaccine!!
2. Blow nose
3. WASH HANDS. (you, too!)
4. Get massage. (fantasy)
5. Take a walk.
6. Go to store.

Seriously, I have only been out of the house once before today, since Friday, when I abortively attempted to go back to work. (I had to anyway, or people wouldn't have gotten paid. It's nice to be needed.) I'm out of facial cleanser, patience, and my habitual sprightly energy. I don't feel like myself at all. And I didn't even do my typical Marmotty "I really should be feeling better so I'm going to pretend I do and totally overdo" thing. I sat on the couch watching TV and "pushing fluids." I took care of myself. And am only incrementally feeling better. Please please PLEASE wash your hands frequamente, muchachos, so you don't get this crap. Not to mention exercise and take vit. C and zinc to beef up your immunity. I normally don't get this stuff, at least not for a freakin' week, and it's laid me low. It's going all around my office and it sucks!