Welcome to the 21st Century

There is a light at the end of the tunnel on the unpacking front. Which is exciting and depressing all at the same time. Exciting, because there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Depressing because I've been "moved in" for almost two months now.

Yesterday I took a carload of stuff to Goodwill, so am now down to about 8 boxes. Two of those are CD's and videos, about 4 of those are clothes that need to be washed and sorted, and two of those are papers that need to be sorted, recycled and filed and that have been following me, in the same two boxes, for at least 3 moves now.

With the disposal of the last of the Goodwill boxes we were also able to get to my TV, which meant we could assemble the entertainment center and swap out TVs. We now get to take advantage of a flat screen TV and a DVD player. Unfortunately, we've got three remotes to juggle now instead of just one. We'll get to juggle remotes for at least a couple of weeks, because we've got a new remote on order for the TiVo and I'm not going to figure out how to make this remote TV and DVD compatible when a new remote will be here momentarily.

Next up is assembly of the stereo. Which must be done during daylight hours, because the shelves that go into the entertainment center need to be pounded in with a hammer and I don't want all the neighbors to hate me.

We are also a two computer household now, as I got my tower set up yesterday. My printer isn't plugged in yet, but just because I needed a longer USB cable and I picked one of those up on the way home tonight.

Next up: DSL.

Tie Game: Swankette 1, Aliens 1

Well, this weekend has proven that the aliens don't have COMPLETE control over me, but they're putting up a valiant fight.

The routine thus far has been to bring the gym bag to work so I can change at the end of the day and head straight to workout. Weekends I've been waking up and going straight to the gym, waiting to shower until I get home. Weeknight workouts have generally been half an hour and weekend workouts an hour.

Friday afternoon the boss came up to me at 4:00 and said I could start the weekend a little early. When the boss comes to you an hour and a half before quitting time and tells you to go home you leave. You do not stay at the office long enough to change into the gym clothes, because then she may change her mind and decide you need to stay that extra hour and a half. So I headed home, but before I could change into the gym clothes I sat down in the La-Z-Boy. It was so comfy and I was so sleepy. And I could workout in the morning, which originally I didn't think I could do. It's OK to take a night off.

But the aliens would have none of that. At 6:00 they got me up and out to the gym. Originally I was going to do an hour workout, since Sweetie wasn't going to be home until late and I wouldn't be able to work out over the weekend, but I negotiated with the aliens and did a half hour workout with the understanding that I would work out the next morning as well. Aliens: 1.

So the alarm is set for 7 am Saturday morning, to give me plenty of time to get down to the gym and workout before I need to be where I need to be for the day. But my body would have none of that, and reset the alarm to 8:45 so I could sleep in just a wee bit longer. Swankette: 1.

Today was a draw; being a debate weekend I got a free pass. Additionally, I got a wee bit of a workout taking the last of the boxes to Goodwill an assembling the new entertainment center.

We'll see how this week plays off to see who wins the battle. Stay tuned.

Marking Territory

The past few years I have volunteered my time to serve as a judge at high school speech and debate meets. OK, I've agreed to judge because Sweetie is a coach and otherwise I don't get to see him over the weekend because the hours are so long. But having done speech and debate in high school I enjoy it in its own right as well. Even if Sweetie weren't involved anymore others could probably talk me into judging for them occasionally.

At every tournament there is always a certain area set aside as the judges' lounge. Sometimes it's the library or theater, where there is plenty of room for everyone to bring all their friends and family along. Other times we're in the faculty lounge and not every judge will have a seat if you're all in there at once. The thing you need to realize, however, is because there are always speech rounds going on all of the judges are never present at one time. The available seat to lounging judge ratio is always at an appropriate level.

Personally, when at a speech tournament I prefer to spend my time judging. Otherwise, it's just a lot of time sitting around waiting to judge. It also plays into that whole work-ethic thing of mine. Although I will take breaks to eat, and occasionally I just do need to take a bit of a break. It is at these times I will take advantage of the judges' lounge.

So today I was at a meet and the judges' lounge was in the staff lounge. I got to arrive late, as the events I was scheduled to judge weren't slated to begin until around 10 am (one of the fringe benefits of having a Sweetie who's helping run the event). When I arrived at the lounge about 1/3-1/2 of the chairs were unoccupied by people, but they were piled high with bags and coats and other detritus that people had left behind to mark their territory. Because their ass had formed an attachment to that particular chair, and God forbid they have to sit somewhere different when they return.

I quickly claimed a chair that was unladen with crap. I didn't bother to ask if it was occupied by someone. I wasn't going to be sitting on someone's lap, so I knew it wasn't occupied, and the likelihood that I'd be there long enough to impact someone's ability to repose was small indeed. I did, however, receive a glare from one of the other women sitting at the table, because apparently I had infringed on her personal space somehow. The only thing I can imagine is that the bottle of Diet Coke I set on the table disrupted her view of an intriguing spot on the wall behind me.

There was a third woman sitting at the table who was working at a laptop. When she was finished with whatever she was doing on her laptop she stood, stepped over to a chair where here bag was holding court. She retrieved something from her bag and set the bag on the floor, as if she were going to be relocating. She then returned to the table to drag the chair she had been occupying next to the chair her bag had been occupying. Apparently she had an invisible friend who was using that chair that she wanted to have a little visit with. Are you not aware that other people are sharing this space with you?

The other thing that astounded me is that every time I returned to the lounge the same exact people seemed to be sitting in the same exact places. When they were passing out ballots for rounds they never seemed to make a move. They never seemed to be leaving or returning. They just sat, eating the free pretzels, staking their territory. And I'm not even bitter that I was the one stuck doing the work while they stayed behind, I'm curious as to what they were doing with their day, just choosing to sit in a teachers lounge because you've got nothing better to do on a lazy winter Saturday?

I really don't understand people sometimes.

The moral of the story: You're never too old to share.

These are the People in your Neighborhood

I don't think we give enough credit to the nameless people who play an important part of our daily lives. We've all got these people in our lives, it's just a matter of identifying them.

There are two specific people I can think of, from the time I lived in Portland:

One was a bus driver that frequently drove the late-night run on the bus route I took home from my first post-college job. At least one night a week I'd work late and take the bus home. The apartment at the time was on the fringe of the medical school and state-run hospital. During rush hour the route ran further, but late nights it would circumnavigate the campus and then terminate, so I was often the last passenger on the bus. Joining me on the bus would often be a colorful selection of characters sans insurance making their way to the emergency room for medical care. I knew this bus driver by appearance, but didn't know that he had ever noticed me as a passenger. One night there was a particularly fragrant character on the bus who disembarked at the emergency room. The bus driver then proceeded to pull a can of Glade Air Freshener out of his bag and spray the bus. I was the only passenger left, but he turned around and asked me if I could handle the stench. I laughed and assured him I was fine. A minute later I pulled the cord to signal my stop, and his response was, "I know where your stop is." We had formed a bond, and I was always thankful when I had him as my driver because I knew someone would be looking out for me.

The other person is a double-amputee vet who has a guitar and spends most of his days with a guitar and a collection hat, sitting in his wheelchair, on the north side of SW Morrison between Broadway and 9th. I would walk by him at LEAST once a day in my wanderings between home, work, and running around town. I have a strict no-donation policy when it comes to panhandlers, but what I will do is make eye contact, smile, and say "Sorry." I may not give money, but at least I'll give respect. With this fellow it had turned a routine - I'd smile and raise my eyebrows at him and he'd smile back with a nod of his head. Except sometimes there were days when I would be too tired, stressed or distracted to acknowledge him. Usually he'd say something like, "Hey, smile!" Normally someone telling me to smile is guarantee I won't be smiling anytime in the near future, but with this guy it always got a smile from me. It was a reality check. Because as tired, stressed or distracted as I might be I had a home and a job and could walk down the street. Count your blessings and all that.

This is an intrinsic part of the web of community that extends through all of us. Maybe even more important are the common threads that tie us all together.

Portland has Elvis. He's a homeless guy who dresses in an Elvis jumpsuit and carries a cardboard guitar. Most weekends you can find him at Saturday Market singing Elvis songs WAY out of tune. I know at least once he participated in the Starlight Run. I don't think he was an actual participant, probably just running the course, but he got the loudest cheers of anyone that night. You mention Elvis to a Portlander and they'll know who you are talking about.

Bellevue has the dancing lady. She wears a sandwich board and stands on a street corner to entice folks to frequent a particular business. But, instead of just standing there with a bored expression on her face she dances. She has got her GROOVE going on. She used to dance for a mattress store on the corner of 148th and 24th. Now she dances for a wine wholesaler off Northrup near 130th. Again, you mention the dancing lady and people know who you mean. Often they can recount other random encounters with the dancing lady while out and about, and it seems she is always dancing whatever else she may be doing.

How wonderful is it that we have this people to help form an instant bond with others. Regardless of how different we may be we can still share the common experience of Elvis and the dancing lady.

As the sibling of a somewhat marginal member of society this makes me thankful. My brother may never have a job, a mortgage, a wife and kids, or the white picket fence in the suburbs. But that doesn't mean he's not an important member of society. I'm quite confidant he's a nameless force in someone else's life, and for that I am thankful.

The Moral of the Story: Happy (belated by one day) Birthday big brother.

Dear Mr. President...

I stumbled across this blog this evening. I wish Dubya would actually READ these letters he's being sent. But that's too much to hope for, I know.

It's a Miracle I Can Even Write This

Really, it's a miracle that I was able to lift the computer onto my lap. How I've managed to pick up a pen every day defies the odds.

Last night I met the new trainer for my initial assessment. It felt very much like the presidential fitness torture - er, test - I was subjected to through Junior High and High School. One of the tasks of the assessment was push-ups. I got to choose whether to do full push-ups or girl push-ups. I know I have wussy upper arms, so I chose the girl push-ups. I was to do as many push-ups as I could. I lived up to my expectations, in that I expected to do really crappy. Grand total: 11 push-ups.

So one of the things the trainer and I will be working on starting next week is the upper body strength.

But here's the part that astounds me: today I felt the tightness across the shoulders that you'll feel the day after you've had a really intense, good workout. Eleven girl push-ups equals a really intense, good workout for me right now. PITIFUL!

Of course, being the eternal optimist that I am I shall now put a positive spin on this: One of the reasons that this is so astounding to me is that I've got no problems lifting boxes and moving big, heavy furniture around when I want to rearrange the room.

The moral of the story: Remember boys and girls, lift with your legs.

The Amazing Race 6: Episode 11

How many times do I need to remind people -- MAKE SURE YOU READ THE ENTIRE CLUE. A mis-read clue almost always equals certain elimination. And this week it was a double-tragedy, as not only did it mean elimination of Lori and Bolo (my second favorite team remaining), but it also meant that Adam and Rebecca (my least favorite team remaining) got to stay in the race.

This year the third-world train adventure wasn't on a train so crowded the women were guaranteed gropes by the locals. I know I requested a grope train at the beginning of the season, because I wanted to see Lori pile-drive a guy when he tried to grab at her fake boobs, but I think the experience would have killed Kendra who was already feeling ill from something she ate in Ethiopia, and I was feeling sympathy for her this evening.

So there is really only one unanswered question at the end of this episode - why, if you are afraid of heights, are you going to select the challenge that requires you to walk across a rope anchored across the top of two palm trees? Especially when you are not in last place, and the team that is in last place is SIGNIFICANTLY behind you, so taking the slower challenge would not eliminate you from the race.

My vote always goes to the team that understands they are on a once in a lifetime trip around the world and tries to appreciate the journey while simultaneously running the race. Which is why, now that both of our pre-season teams are eliminated, Sweetie and I can both whole-heartedly root for Kris and Jon for the remainder of the season.

Guilty Pleasure

American Idol auditions - the first part of the season, when they're showing all the freaks audition, is really darn entertaining. Once they go to Hollywood the show is boring tripe, but watching Paula Abdul try not to laugh at someone because they are so damn bad is enjoyable.

Especially when you add Gene Simmons to the mix. (As a judge, not auditioning.)

Apologies to those of you on the East Coast

Spring is on the way here in Seattle. I just stepped outside in my t-shirt and flannel vest and not only did I not freeze my ass of or get drenched in rain, but it was sunny and quite pleasant and had my dreaming of perfect Seattle summers, which are what keeps me going in the dark of winter. According to the weather channel it's currently 60 degrees outside.

Days like today make a girl happy for global warming.

My Next Career

A couple of weeks ago I came to a realization. If I could have ANY job in the world it would be "lifestyle guru." Martha Stewart, but swank. So cross Martha with Alton Brown, Brini Maxwell, Nigella Lawson, Katie Brown and Ready Made magazine. But how does one become a lifestyle guru? It's not just a job you find in the classifieds. But the idea has been simmering away in the back of my brain for a little while now.

Today Alton Brown was doing a reading/signing at the local independent bookseller's. I, of course, attended. He talked a little bit, then opened it up to questions from the audience. Question #1 involved baking without eggs (Can you do it, and if so, how?). Answer: It depends, becaues the role of the egg changes depending on the dish. For the record, this would have been my question as well. Question #2 involved what can you use in lieu of almond paste. Answer: It depends on the role of the almond paste. Alton then made a nice analogy: ingredients are like a members of a theater troupe - the role of each ingredient changes depending on the production. Before question #3 was asked Alton asked if it involved food allergies... had the asker said "yes" I think they would have been passed.

While waiting in line I was pondering this question, and when I made it to the front of the line I asked Alton if he could recommend a good reference book to help one accomodate food allergies. He said no, but there should be. I then suggested he write one, and his response was that he was not able to do so, but he wanted to find someone who could and once he discovered such a person he would post the information on his website.

As I was walking back to my car I had a little epiphany - why couldn't that person be me? Now don't go looking at your local bookstore anytime soon, but as a long-term goal type thing. First thing I'd need to do is figure out what I'd need to do/learn to be qualified to write to such a topic. Then there would be some education involved in the science of food, cooking techniques, etc., but I'm sure it's within my abilities. So I'm thinking of exploring this idea. If nothing else, it will make cooking for sweetie and his family a lot easier, but who knows what may become of it.

I've already got a bit of a vision of what I'd like the end-product to look like, but let's see where the journey takes us.

Spell-Check

Blogger's spell-check feature suggested instead of "cheerleaders" it should be "charlatans." I'm not suggesting Blogger change it, just thought you might like to know.

Observation

Tonight I got the opportunity to observe Sweetie in action as he was reffing a game. Having seen him teach and having read his poetry this was the missing piece of the trifecta. It was a very good game, if I do say so myself. And given that this is the third high school basketball game I've been to in my life I've definitely got the experience to make that call.

I've gone to a high school basketball game before to watch someone ref. While living in Portland I had a co-worker who was a ref. A friend and I decided it would be fun to go see a game of his sometime. It was between Wilson High School and I BELIEVE Jefferson High School. Wilson High - school in the affluent white part of town. Jefferson - school in the predominantly black part of town. Didn't matter so much on the court, but it was fun to watch the differences within the cheerleading squads, including the fact that Wilson had the token black girl on the squad, and Jefferson had the token white girl. It was an energetic game and at one point (third quarter?) a player was injured, so emotions were definitely high that game. Kirk and his partner handled things well, but you could see the stress on their faces.

Tonight I showed up right at the half. The visiting team was ahead by something like 10-15 points. I was expecting an ugly 2nd half with the home team taking it out on my Sweetie. I shouldn't have worried a bit, because Sweetie and his partner handled it all with grace and calm. I alternated between watching the game and watching the Sweetie, but must admit I spent very little time watching the scoreboard. During the beginning of the third period the home coach (and home fans) would grumble when things didn't go their way, but would be perfectly happy when the other team was committing fouls. Sweetie gave the home coach a technical foul, shortly followed by an unpopular call against the home team. But then the home team got their act together and pulled ahead of the visiting team, and everyone was fine with the calls the refs were making. However, from watching the refs you never would know a team went from 15 points down to 10 points up in a span of less than 16 minutes.

It's interesting to watch a game as a disinterested party. I was rooting for the one guy who could do no wrong because he was the one enforcing the rules. It definitely enhances your appreciation for the game and ALL the dynamics invovled. From the parents rooting for their kids to the drummer who's not in time with the band director.

My freshman year of college I got the opportunity to watch a high school football game in a similar scenario. My school had a CRAPPY football team, so some friends and I decided to go to a high school game at the stadium across the street from our school one Friday night. This was in Texas, where football is king, queen, and the rest of the royal family. When the ticket seller asked us which side we wanted tickets for we asked him which side was favored to win. Couldn't tell you who won the game, but I can tell you it was a BLAST to be in the stands just watching.

If you have any interest in sports and/or sociology you should make a point to go to a game where you have no rooting interest in either of the teams. Simply go and watch the EVENT. It definitely gives you a new perspective on things. Just as I gained a new perspective on my Sweetie tonight.

Dang Aliens!

I'm mad at the aliens. If you're going to invade my body you can at least thwart any illnesses that try to invade as well. You're an alien, you've got to have that power. Dang cold knocking me down forcing me to postpone my first training session!

And I know the aliens are still there, because today while I'm practically falling asleep at my desk (from my sleep cycle getting thrown all out of whack) I'm actually thinking, "I wasn't going to go to the gym tonight, but I could do 30 minutes on the treadmill if I take it easy." I had to fight off the aliens, because I know if I go in today I will kill myself, and that will kill any motivation to go to the gym.

I'm negotiating with the aliens now as to whether or not I'll be going to the gym tomorrow. Hopefully we can find a nice middle ground that keeps us all happy.

Indispensible

Thanks to my father (and mother) I was raised with a work ethic that forces me to do the best job I can at whatever I am doing. This week I'm feeling the downside of that ethic.

Busting my butt to become indispensible at a job has served me well in the past. It literally saved me from being fired at my first job. It's postponed layoffs, allowed promotions, and made me a favorite of bosses which makes it a lot easier to ask for favors when needed.

I also subscribe to the "bus wreck" style of project management. In other words, document what you are doing so that if you were to get hit by a bus on your way to work tomorrow your co-workers could pick up the pieces and move on.

Except now I'm in a job where I'm the only one in the office who does my job. If something drastic were to happen my boss could step in, but she's very busy off being a boss and so doesn't come in and take over when I'm out for a day sick. The receptionist will fill in for me as best she can, but her training and skills don't perfectly match her to the job at hand.

Yesterday I woke up not feeling so good. If 100% is "I am absolutely perfect in every way possible" and anything 50% or below is "I am incapable of going to work today, no matter how much I might want to" yesterday was about a 70%. I COULD have made it into work if I had to, but then I'm taking the gamble as to if I will stay at 70% or slip down closer to that 50% mark. Yesterday was a negotiable day - there were things to do, but none of them were time-sensitive and could all wait a day. Today was a non-negotiable day. Important things were happening today that needed me there. It was worth sacrificing yesterday to guarantee I would be there today.

And if that doesn't suck enough, there's also the balance between getting better and having to get back to work. As in every day I'm home sick work is piling up on my desk. It's an exponential equation. So, is that day recuperating at home worth the extra work that will be awaiting me when I get back to work? Am I well enough to tackle whatever may be waiting for me?

Really, life would be so much easier if I just won the lottery.

Mystery

This post is really only directed at my Portland readers:

I received an envelope in the mail today addressed to me with a Portland postmark. No return address, and the envelope was open and empty.

If you are responsible for this, please speak up. And if there was supposed to be something IN the envelope it must have been REALLY good, because the post office workers have stolen it in transit.

There may be a reward offered - depends on what was in the envelope.

The Amazing Race 6: Episode 10

And there was much rejoicing in the land!

But, before I bid my FOND farewell to the most evil team ever, I must give props where they are due.

Kendra's whiny world view has been frustrating me for several weeks now. Senagalese living in poverty and they just keep BREEDING! Well, this week found the teams revisiting Africa, this time Ethiopia, and Kendra's first comment was that they were being forced back into the third world - the horror! Upon arriving in Ethiopia she commented that the poverty didn't seem as bad - people seemed happy with their poverty and the cows were fatter! But when you're looking at utter abject poverty vs. Just abject poverty I don't think you really get to make that comparison. However, Kendra showed she has a heart this episode. First, when Victoria was hurt and Jonathan just continued on with the task at hand Kendra actually shrieked at Jonathan that he should be helping Victoria. And, although she didn't stop what she was doing, Kendra took the time to ask Victoria if she was OK, which is more than what Jonathan did. Score 1 for Kendra. Second, Kendra had an asthma attack while escorting some donkeys between destinations. Local kids offered to carry her pack for her while she was having difficulty breathing. You know, how at the end of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" you can see the Grinches heart grow three sizes that day? Well, I think I saw Kendra's heart grow a little bit today.

After tonight's episode I've got new rooting interests. I want the children of Ethiopia to win the race. They were all excited as hell to help the teams out, and seemed like some really cool kids.

With the winners must come the losers, and I am pleased to announce that Jonathan and Victoria were eliminated this leg of the race. That means I can continue to watch the show next season. The moral of the story - make sure you always read the clue as it is written. Because when it tells you to escort two donkeys and you only escort one donkey, then you've got to do double the work and that throws you into last place.

Moral of the story number two - relationships are more important than the race. As in, when your spouse is SHRIEKING in pain it might be nice to take five seconds and ask them if you can help, rather than continuing to fling manure at the side of an African hut. And when your partner is SHRIEKING at you because you have her shoes and she is going through horrible pain trying to walk through the field, maybe you should take 10 seconds to give her her shoes back rather than continue on. Because even with those 15 seconds to spare you still came in last place today.

Moral of the story number three - you can't buy your way into first place. So spending all your time trying to bribe a local to be your guide can be enough of a waste of time to throw you into last place. Which is especially funny considering that once you got to where the guide was taking you there were plenty of locals willing to help you out for a smile and a kind word. Except your incapable of a smile and a kind word, so maybe it's a good thing you engaged in the bribery after all.

The smirk on Phil's face as Jonathan and Victoria crossed the finish line was worth gold. He was legitimately surprised by them in Berlin, and legitimately elated to see them go today. If anyone will be sorry to see them gone it will be Adam, because now that the abusive spouse poster child is off the show it will be a lot easier to see how childish Adam is. And how his childishness can become abusive towards Rebecca. Thankfully, Rebecca recognizes this (and went so far as to compare Adam to Jonathan tonight), so she won't put up with it the way Victoria does.

So remember, next week we root FOR the Ethiopian children and AGAINST Adam (aka hornboy) and Rebecca.

Eleanor Rigby

I finished reading Douglas Coupland's new book, Eleanor Rigby, this morning. If you've read any Coupland before you're sure to enjoy this one as well, as it explores the common themes of his work: loneliness, redemption, interconnectedness, signs from the heavens. It reminded me of Girlfriend in a Coma because of some plot similarities - child born to clueless teenagers who is adopted ends up being a messenger of sorts. However, where Girlfriend in a Coma seemed to explore the interconnectedness of everyone Eleanor Rigby was all about loneliness.

One of the things I love about all of Coupland's work is this visualness of his writing. Meaning, you are reading the story it is very easy to create a picture of the characters in your head. Although a lot of the scenes I created are much more based on my own life (the cube farm I used to work in, the rooftop party I attended one night...) then they are on what Coupland imagined, I'm sure.

If I have any complaints they are regarding the timing of this book. Historically, Douglas Coupland has had an uncanny ability to write books that deal with what I'm going through in my life at that very moment. I noticed it first, and most prevalently, with Microserfs. I was 1 year out of college and 4 months past my father's open heart surgery and major stroke, and I was reading a book about a group of twenty-somethings charting out to re-start their careers and the main character's mother has a major stroke in the story. I read the second half of the book in one sitting (staying up until about 4 am), tears streaming down my face.

Girlfriend in a Coma was the other one that really hit me where it hurt. I had just moved into the original House of Swank (after a year living with the parents, where I was because I had hit rock bottom) and was thrilled with the network of friends I was developing after returning to Portland from Seattle. And here's this book about how a group of friends lives are interconnected and the end of the world comes and they are given a second chance.

So, had Douglas Coupland released this book in the summer of 2001 it might easily have trumped Microserfs as the best Coupland book ever. Because the theme of living a lonely, sparse life as the world roars on around you definitely fit my life then.

As it stands, this was a very enjoyable book and I highly recommend it to anyone who's read Coupland before. However, I would not recommend this as your first book by the author, because much of his writing might escape you if you aren't familiar with his work.

Law and Order

Mission complete. Thanks to the world's greatest invention, TiVo, I've now seen an episode of Law and Order. They didn't all live happily ever after and it wasn't all tied up with a neat bow at the end. That compels me.

Reminds me of the first time I saw ER. It was 1994 or 1995 and I was sitting around the apartment one Thursday night having one of those, "I must just sit in front of the television and do nothing" sort of nights. Didn't have cable at the time, surfed through the available options with nothing reaching out and grabbing me, but I'd heard good things about the show so the roomie and I decided to leave it on. There was a character in the plotline who was dying of something. Throughout the show we kept saying, "But it will get better before the end of the show." "15 more minutes for them to find a miracle cure." "Come on, you can do it!" He ended up dying before the end of the episode. I was hooked. (It's been a roller coaster relationship since then, as the show seems to jump the shark on a regular basis)

Anyhow, back to Law and Order. It was enjoyable. I liked the interaction between the detectives and the DA's office. I liked the way they were all trying to put the puzzle pieces together, trying to make it all fit the picture. There were lots of twists and turns along the way.

I wasn't compelled enough that it's made it onto my "must see" list. However, it was interesting enough that it's on the list when I'm sitting home looking for something to watch, I'll definitely tune in again.

It's a Boy!

I've joined a gym. I've got me a wedding dress I must look spectacular wearing in less than seven months. Since I need outside influence to keep me motivated I'm hiring myself a personal trainer as well.

When I tell people I'm hiring a personal trainer the first thing they say to me is, "Male or female?" Why does it matter? I'm paying this person money to watch my fat ass sweat it's way into shape and to bitch-slap me into action so I get into shape. It's a professional who's areas of expertise and schedule will allow me to get done what I need to get done.

We have our first meeting on Wednesday. Game on!

Beating the Dead Horse

Today over on Slate.com Surfergirl commented on The Amazing Race 6 and what an abusive asshole Jonathan is. She doesn't say anything that hasn't been said before, but she does link to a USA Today article that I find interesting, if only for the fact that the producer comments that Jonathan "is actually a nice guy."

Nope, sorry, don't buy it. And if you want me to buy it then perhaps you need to have a word with your editors because they sure aren't showing us anything nice about the guy. And even with as much footage as they shoot I find it hard to believe that he's an angel every other moment of the race, but they just chose the asshole clips. And if that IS what the editors are doing, then perhaps you need to talk to them about the problems of abuse, and the message this is sending to assholes around the world.

Really, the more I think about this the more I get mad at CBS.

An Observation

If you're a car manufacturer you may want to think twice before sponsoring the local traffic broadcasts, because when they say, "Traffic provided by BMW," the first thought is, "Damn those BMWs causing all the traffic!" Instead of, "Wow, I think I'd like to go buy a BMW today."

It's a Weakness

I may need to go back to college, just so I have an excuse to go buy these.

Alien Invasion

I think my body has been invaded by aliens. Because I don't know how else to explain my recent behavior. It's not surprising that I've actually been going to the gym since I joined last week, but here's what is surprising:

When having a crappy day at work I actually find myself sitting at my desk thinking, "But I'll get to go to the gym tonight and get this all out of my system."

And OK, so there was still that one day of the month where "exercise" consisted of lifting the spoon to my mouth. But the spoon was filled with cottage cheese instead of Ben and Jerry's. And the next day, when "exercise" usually consists of actually managing to put the spoon in the dishwasher after feeding my face - yeah, I was at the gym that day.

I'm going to try to make friends with the aliens, so they'll stay in my body until at least the wedding.

A Cure for the Common Cold

If anyone's got one, I'm willing to spend good money on it if it can work IMMEDIATELY.

As in, the receptionist at my office has been out sick the last two days with a cold, and my brain has turned to scrambled eggs while trying to compensate. Which really sucks, because I don't even LIKE scrambled eggs.

If the receptionist isn't well enough to work tomorrow I may go off the deep end. Stay tuned, news as events warrant.

EEK!

I've come one step closer to becoming a soccer mom tonight.

First it was accepting the fact that I must live in suburbia.

Next it was the Subaru Forester.

Now we've got a calendar hanging in the kitchen to record things like dentist's appointments and nights the Sweetie's got to ref, and our trip to Boston this summer to see Kaphine and RealSuperGirl get married.

The calendar is a very good thing, I'm just very afraid of the path it's leading me down.

The Amazing Race 6: Episode 9

The next few eliminations are very, very important. One small mistake and the final episodes will be unwatchable, as I really dislike most of the teams that are still in the race. Kris and Jon are my new favorites, and the wrestlers don't disgust me, but if one of those teams doesn't make it through to the end I will be really upset.

All in all it was a rather uneventful episode, although I am starting to rethink my position on Jonathan and Victoria. Don't get me wrong, he's still the asshole to end all assholes, but I'm starting to think it may be a two-way street. Hugh over at Three Bed Two Bath provided Sweetie with this link, in which Hera explains that Victoria gives as well as she gets. You could also see a little bit of it this evening. Jonathan has always forced Victoria into the difficult situations in past weeks, but tonight when he was the one performing the road block and wasn't going up to speed Victoria was sure letting him have it. I still want to see him publicly castrated, but now it's more in hopes that those two will never procreate.

We're now guaranteed that significant others (or insignificant others, you decide) will win the race. Makes me sad that Sweetie and I will never get to participate together. You can't ask a boy with food allergies to run a race around the world. Eating at TGI Friday's can do him in, so I could never ask him to try to eat international delicacies.

The Horror!

I hope I don't have to sacrifice being a card-carrying member of Generation X, but Douglas Coupland's newest book has been on sale for over 24 hours and I have yet to purchase a copy. I shall ameliorate that this evening, but I am particularly ashamed, because last night would have been the perfect night to curl up with it.

The good news is that I have not missed the local reading and it is at a time and place that I can reasonably attend.

Last time I saw him read and got his autograph he strongly recommended I check out the television show Law and Order. That was at least a year and a half ago, and I still haven't seen the show once. Now I feel I must fire up the TiVo, because if I haven't seen at least one episode before the next reading I will feel guilty -- even though he will have no recollection of who I am. When your favorite author recommends a television program to you it would be remiss to not check it out.

Stay tuned for a book review, probably sooner rather than later.

Don't Tell My Mom

You have to promise not to tell my mother what you read about in this post. Although, if you were to tell her she probably wouldn't believe you, so we're safe there.

Living with the Sweetie is turning me into little miss happy homemaker. I dig thinking about what I'm going to cook for dinner tonight. When Sweetie complements my cooking it just gets to me at my core. We have an agreement that whoever cooks doesn't have to do the cleanup, but I'll do as much cleanup as I can while cooking the meal so that Sweetie doesn't have to deal with all the crap I drag out just to make dinner.

Today was a crap day at work, so I didn't have the energy to cook dinner inside me. I felt guilty when I e-mailed the Sweetie and asked if it would be OK if I picked up Mexican on the way home.

The Independent Swank is slowly changing into the Domestic Diva. Of course, it's VERY slowly, because there are still several boxes left to unpack, and none of those meals has been sitting at the table because it's covered in CD's, and I think Jimmyh Hoffa may be buried under our coffee table, but you can't change Rome in a day.

Swank Weather

Steve Pool, head of the local ABC affiliate's weather staff, is a stud. Not only did he help Sweetie online weather forecasts are the bomb. Instead of just telling me it might snow tomorrow, he goes to the trouble of telling me what convergent events will cause the snow, and under what circumstances I don't need to worry.

So, based on the information he has provided thus far I'm not at all worried about my pilgrimage to PDX this weekend.

Swank Site

Got a hit from a site I've never heard of today, but is totally swank. It's allconsuming.net. The site tracks blogs for mentions of books, and you can look up a book and see what the blog world is saying about it.

You can also set up an account, get yourself a list of friends, and it will recommend books to you based on what your friends are reading.

Totally groovy if you're a literate person! I've started me an account and threw a few books into the mix. A few of my faves, plus what I'm reading now. We'll see what comes of it.

What's in a Name?

I haven't run this by Sweetie, yet, but after the wedding instead of "The SwankPoets" I'm going to suggest we go by "The Seattle SwankPoets of Redmond."

It will allow us to declare to the world that really we're city people at heart and would much rather be living in Seattle, but due to the fact that we both refuse to commute 1+ hour each way every day we're stuck living in the suburbs.

The Amazing Race 6: Episode 8

Well, once you've reached the top there's no way to go but down. Meaning, in the pre-season pool I picked the winners last season, and this season that just wasn't to be. This is also the first season since Sweetie and I have done pre-season picks where Sweetie's team has made it further in the race than mine.

So it makes sense that the lesson in today's episode was: To victor not always go the spoils.

Early on in the episode all the teams were at a train yard as it opened. The gate swung up, the teams ran through. Except it was one of those lift gates that sometimes doesn't go up smoothly, but does a little bounce before it's in its fully lifted position. And, unfortunately, there were a couple of players underneath the gate. Specifically, Freddy, the Model and Hera, the daughter.

Hera winced in pain and then got on with things. Freddy decided to blow up at everyone, accusing someone of dropping the gate on him. He wouldn't let it go. From the angle I got I think Hera got hit harder (she was a lot closer to the lift point), but she never said a word. Freddy was ready to snap someone in half.

However, a wrong decision at a detour and that was the end of the race for my team. Who knew it would be so easy to score a goal off a professional water polo goalie? Gus and Hera took option B, which took longer and, unfortunately, led them to elimination at the pit stop.

So now I shall move my voting interest to Sweetie's team. After a fast forward in which the downed pigs blood as if it was a cold beer on a hot summers day they're sitting in first place. Let's see how long this can last.

And now, something to ponder for the coming week: Two weeks ago the episode ended with a "To Be Continued..." This week's episode began with an equalizer (based on opening time at an internet cafe) followed by another equalizer (opening time of the aforementioned train yard). In between all the teams (with the exception of the wrestlers who had to catch a late train) stayed at the same hotel. Both episodes had detours and roadblocks, and usually they limit those to one per leg. Part of me wonders if there was a pit stop that they decided not to use the results of, or was eliminated for some reason along the way. Just what are the odds of 6 different teams in Budapest, Hungary all ending up at the same Hotel? I assume there's more than one hotel in the city. Just some food for thought.

Drop and Give Me 20

I joined a gym today. It's not a New Year's Resolution type thing -- it's been on the to do list for quite some time. It's simply that I am settled enough in the new place that I was finally able to do the research and get this done.

I've had varying levels of success with the gym in the past. This time I'm investing in a personal trainer. Less to tell me what/how to do (one session and I'll be good there), but more to be a neutral third party to be accountable to. Those lazy days I'm sitting on my ass watching TV instead of going to the gym I'll think of the cash I'm shelling out, and what I'm going to tell the trainer at our next meeting.

As an added bonus, the club I joined has two racquetball courts. I used to LOVE playing racquetball, so hopefully I'll get back into that as well.

I've got two other motivations to keep me going this time as well: 1. I'm getting married in July. 2. Sweetie has told me when I reach my goal he will buy me shoes - and he didn't set a price limit.

Happy, Happy New Year!

This morning my inbox was graced by an e-mail from an old friend that I hadn't heard from in at LEAST 5 years. It was a simple, "Hi, I hope it's you. If it is, here's a very brief update of the last 5 years of my life, and if it's not you I apologize for taking your time." but it was still a very pleasant surprise and a nice way to start a Monday morning.

I met this friend around 1993 or 1994. And when I say "met" I really mean "came to know of his existence" because we've never actually met face-to-face. We were both members of an international collegiate service organization. We were both on a national e-mail list and there was an experience he had and e-mailed the list about that touched me, so I e-mailed him, and we had some common bonds as we were making the transitions from school to real life. A friend 3,000 miles away that you've never met before offers a certain level of perspective you can't get from other folks.

Now it makes me want to go out and search down other long lost friends I've lost touch with to find out what's happened with them.

The DaVinci Debacle

I know I'm way behind the times, but I just finished reading "The DaVinci Code" by Dan Brown. If you haven't read the book yet, wait for the movie. I'm not saying a movie is going to be made, but if one were it would be way better than the book was.

I remember when the book had come out and was the greatest thing since sliced bread thinking, "Hmm, I should read that." But just never got around to it for whatever reason. Then someone who's opinion I respect on such things said they attempted to start the book for a book group they are in and just couldn't handle it. Other people were saying I should read it, but I didn't know enough about their opinions to kick me into gear, but while in Portland recently my mother insisted I read it and gave me a copy of the book.

One page in I already had my issues with it. There was just a little bit too much forced convolution to make it really snap. And far too many flashbacks to help fill in unnecessary backstory. However, once I got into the mystery/caper it was interesting. How the clues and symbols linked together, and the characters all tied in. So, for about 3/4 of the book I enjoyed the mystery aspect, but then you get to the end and it seems the author just got bored of writing, or his publisher insisted he keep it below 500 pages, because you get to the BIG MOMENT and the ends all get tied up just a little too easily. But it wasn't HORRIBLE.

The thing that really got my goat is the tangents the author went on to explain himself. Three pages explaining the divine ratio. Not that it isn't interesting knowledge, but it didn't advance the plot any, but just was an opportunity for the author to show how much STUFF he knows. This happens again and again and again throughout the book. It would have been better to write a 50-100 page mystery caper with footnotes or appendices that reference all the arcane knowledge the author needs to prove he knows. Supposedly a lot of it is factual, but I'd get more into the facts of it all if I could separate them from the plot.

And this, my friends, is why a movie would be much better. Within the confines of the visual medium and the time allotment they would have to cut all the crap from the story. And the author must have been imagining his work on the big screen already, because he wrote in the oldest trick in the book. The two main characters are a male and female. There is not a HINT of sexual tension between them during the whole book. They don't even have a flicker of interest between each other at any point in the story. But then the loose ends get tied up and they go jump in the sack. SERIOUSLY!

A young Nicole Kidman would be perfect for the female lead. I'd like Jeff Goldblum to play the male lead, but just because I have a thing for him and he does so well as the geeky scientist type. I could cast the rest of the characters as well, but I don't want to give away all my secrets or some big studio will just steal them from me. 20th Century Fox, give me a call and we can talk.

The Year of ALL

Once upon a time (1998) my friend Kaphine and I were both living the single live in Portland. We were both living with parental units at the time, but were on our way to creating the initial House of Swank (which is a story unto itself, perhaps it will be told another day). I had met a boy over the internet, and she had met a girl through her ties to the union.

One night we had to go on an intelligence gathering mission. The boy I had met worked at a restaurant with an open kitchen, and we were off to dinner there to scope him out and see if he was worth meeting. After dinner we went to the Ben and Jerry's Scoop Shop on Hawthorne, then wandered the street over-analyzing our lives (a pre-requisite for a close friend in the world of Swank).

We'd handled my neurotica for the night -- the boy was worth meeting, although that never panned out -- so now it was onto her neurotica. She wanted to will the girl she'd met to call her. I could tell she was smitten with the girl, so was insistent that she be the caller if necessary. I threatened to kick her ass if she didn't initiate a call. Repeatedly, I threatened it. I threatned to push her into the traffic if she didn't stop whining and really, just call the girl already. I'm not sure who the caller and the callee was, but they've been together ever since and are planning their wedding for next August.

I BELIEVE it was this same night (at minimum, a similar night of neurotica and beer) when one of us declared that we should have it ALL. We should both find partners that we love deeply and can spend the rest of our lives with, and both live fabulously swank lives. ALL became one of our secret code words. It's amazing that we have other friends when I start to think about it, because we've had a lot of secret code words over the year that will send both of us into fits of giggles. Don't even offer us a slice of pumpernickel bread, and don't say I didn't warn you.

Well, it appears that 2005 is, indeed, the year of ALL. Kaphine gets credit for this observation, but with both of us getting hitched to our loved ones, it really is going to be a stupendous year. And so, with that in mind, I wish ALL my readers ALL their hearts desires, and lets ALL pull together to make the world a better place.

Happy New Year?

Years ago, when sweetie and I attended our first sporting event together at which a proposal happened, I turned to him and said, "Look, I'm not saying that marriage is in the future. But, if the day ever comes that you do want to propose to me, do NOT propose to me at a sporting event on the diamond vision. Because if you do I will not say yes. In fact, I will get up and leave the stadium and never speak to you again."

There is something about the blatantly public proposal that's just WRONG. You're basically bullying the other person into saying, "YES!" Because if you said, "NO" you'd not only crush the proposer, but you'd probably face the wrath of the 50,000 spectators who are expecting you to say yes.

Sweetie got the hint. Unfortunately, not everyone is as proactive as I am in expressing their wishes.

Last night on the local New Year's Eve broadcast there was the obligatory proposal broadcast to all mere minutes before midnight. The girl said yes, but the eyes said, "Um, what the hell are you thinking, buddy? We're going to be having a LOOONG talk to kick off 2005. And come next New Year's Eve you'll be ancient history."

Happy to say my sweetie won't be ancient history next New Year's Eve. He'll be my hubby.