The Importance of Good Mental Health

Sweetie and I went to see the new Star Wars last night. So if you haven't seen it yet and want to you may want to bookmark this entry for later, but there are three things I feel I must comment on:

1) R2D2 got all kick-ass in this movie. He can jump. He may be able to do flips and stuff. He's got a secret stash of weapons under his dome. Why have we never seen this before or since? I've got major issues with this. I don't know why I've got issues with this and none of the other continuity issues, but I do.

2) Through all the movies the women are the most consistent, strong-willed people of the group. Padme may not have always been functioning with all the facts available, but once she got the info she stood her ground on the right side of the issue. Leia totally should have been the Jedi in the originals, if for no other reason than she was much less whiny than Luke.

3) Now that I've seen them all I've decided that put together all the movies are just a 12+ hour long commercial for the power of therapy. If Annakin had sought therapy in any one of a number of instances in his life prior to turning dark he could have worked through his issues and not have HAD to become Darth Vader. A little bit of anger management therapy and he could have been a star on the Jedi Council. A little pre-marital counseling and he might have realized that it would have been better for him and Padme to wait. Yoda and Mace Windu TRIED to counsel the kid, but he just wouldn't listen. Even to the end - Mace said stay here and we'll deal with your shit later. But does he wait there? Oh no, he doesn't.

Beginning to make me wonder if I need to go seek some therapy - wouldn't want to go turning to the dark side.

If You Don't Stop You'll Go Blind

Between horny old men going blind, Bush's whacked out view on stem cell's, and the radical right's continued push for abstinence-only sex-education I'm really starting to fear that our society is being slowly pushed to everyone's favorite song in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life.

That surely would be a sign of the apocalypse, no?

Nordstroms

When you consider that:

1. It started as a shoe store
2. It's headquartered in the Northwest

it should come as no surprise to anyone that I'm a Nordy's gal. In my teen years my dream was to work there. Through college they were constantly touted as an example of good customer service. Now it's just a place I like to shop.

That doesn't mean I don't have my issues with the store. It frustrates me to no end when I go into the store with cold hard cash to spend but can't get anyone to give me the time of day because I don't look like I have money. This was especially challenging in the teen psuedo-punk years.

However, salespeople who have seen past that have always won their way into my heart and pocketbook.

The first worked in Point of View in the Washington Square store. I believe her name was Michelle, but I could be remembering incorrectly. My first experience with her was a summer when I had about a billion weddings to go to, so I decided to go drop some money on one nice dress that I could wear to every damn one of them. It was late on a Saturday evening. I found the perfect dress in the perfect size and the perfect color. Unfortunately, there was not one dress in both the size and color I wanted. It's common practice for Nordstrom to call around town and see if another store has the item you are looking for. So she went about calling. No one in town had it. She started broadening her search. To the point where she had one phone on each ear, and was begging with the cleaning staff in Chicago (since it was well after hours there), to go look and see if they had it on the rack - AND THEY DID. She won major points for that, and I actually drove out of my way to go to that store to go shopping.

The second was my shoe guy. I don't remember his name, I just knew him as my shoe guy. He worked at the Lloyd Center Nordstrom's in, you guessed it, the shoe department. He is solely responsible for the fact that I used to own a pair of burgundy velvet tennis shoes. Because I had gone into the store to buy a new pair of dress shoes for work, and while he went into the back to find my size he purposefully set me in front of the display. Because he knew me (he was already the shoe guy at this point), and knew that as broke as I was, and as much as the budget could barely afford the new pair of dress shoes for work, there was no way that I could resist a pair of burgundy velvet tennis shoes. Man, I loved those shoes.

I think I found a new shoe guy tonight. There was a convergence of funds and mood that required a shoe shopping expedition. Which I went on immediately after going to the gym today. I didn't bother to change between the gym and the mall, so was wearing my sweats with my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I think I got the somewhat new but very earnest shoe guy, but in a good way. I purchased a pair of Danskos, and he actually encouraged the mixing and matching of lefts and rights to find the ideal pair for my feet. He asked my permission before simultaneously helping another customer. He gave me a very nice little speech as he was handing me his card, something about if I had any questions or something like that. Whatever, he did a good job, so I think I can declare him my new shoe guy. the only problem is usually I don't like the shoe selection at the Nordstrom at Bellevue Square. Usually I have to cross the lake to Northgate. But if I am able to conduct shoe buying business on this side of the lake, I shall purchase said shoes from him.

For now I shall simply enjoy the new shoes that I have.

I Must Not Have Been Paying Attention

Can someone please tell me when fancy thongs came into fashion? And if you know the answer to that, do you also know the answer to WHY? Because I just don't get it. I love me my flip flops like no other, but they're for ultra-casual days or when I need to run the garbage out to the dumpster and don't want to put on real shoes. They aren't for formal occassions.

The Re-Definition and Destruction of a Game Show Ho

So back when KenJen was the ruler of the Jeopoardy Universe I frequently blogged on how evil he was, and how he was the ultimate game show ho.

The original etymology of "game show ho" was someone who is willing to ho themselves out to whatever game show will have them. Who make a life out of trying out for and participating in various game shows.

But KenJen decided to take his luck, which turned him into a celebrity, and now is hoing himself out to any company that will pay him as he shills for too damn many products on the TV. I wonder if everything he's hoing himself out to is mormon-friendly? And as long as they get their 10% do they care?

ANYHOW, Jeopardy also chose to capitalize on the ho's hoing, and had the ULTIMATE TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS, bringing back all the super-studs of past years, pitting them in competition against each other, and putting the final two survivors against KenJen in a battle for two million dollars.

The finals were three nights long. KenJen didn't win a single night. The first night it was close, but at the end of night two Brad Rutter was ahead by $12,000 +, and he ran away with it the third night. That's right, HE KICKED KENJEN'S ASS! AND he is now the highest-winning game-show contestant in history, so take THAT Mr. Ho!

Sweetie thinks I have it in for KenJen. And he's right. I don't like the guy. Mainly because everyone, including himself, seemed to think he was hot shit for doing as well as he did for as long as he did at Jeopardy, but a little bit of luck and some changes in the rules and it could have happened to any of a number of people.

There's a Rhinoceros in the Room

Today a friend discovered that she has lymphoma. Don't know the details yet as to severity, that comes on Friday, but man if this doesn't suck the big one.

This friend is the picture of a healthy lifestyle. Eats right, works out, doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't swear. A mutual friend and I were talking post-disclosure, and this friend is part of our inspiration for getting our ass to the gym on a regular basis, because if she can do as much as she can do then there's no excuse why we can't move our butts on a regular basis.

But then something like this hits you and it's random enough that it makes us contemplate drinking and smoking and eating nothing but red meat, and let's start a drug habit while we're at it, because what does it all matter in the end anyway?

And no, we won't really go out and do that, but the thought does cross your mind.

I'm keeping this intentionally vague, to protect those who may not want their identities known, but thoughts and prayers of even a generic variety are appreciated.

The Anti-Puck Bunny

I am currently the #7 hit on google for "Girls who love the Portland Winterhawks."

For the record:

Although I do attribute my hockey fan-dom to a case of high school lust gone horribly awry, I never was a puck bunny. While at games I was there to watch the game. You couldn't tell Troy Mick was dreamy while he was in his hockey uniform, so the lusting was contained to school hours only.

Now when he became assistant coach of the Portland Winterhawks, well that was a different story. Although he was married with kids by then.

And although it could seem a lovely bit of karma that he moved from Portland to the Tri-Cities about the same time I did, well that's really a bundle of trouble waiting to happen. Because it's only natural that the two minor league sports franchises in a town (that play totally opposite seasons) support each other. And once your boss finds out about your childhood love of Troy Mick, well then it's not too long until the folks at the hockey club find out about that. And let's just say there are all sort of shades of pink I can turn that I didn't even realize before those days.

So yes, I love the Portland Winterhawks, but I am severly anti puck-bunny, and encourage everyone else to be as well.

Huh?

OK, I'll give into peer pressure Alison:

List five things that people in your circle of friends or peer group are wild about, but you can't really understand the fuss over.

1) Internet Poker. I know several people who play internet poker all day every day. It's just sitting there running on their computer while they work. Often for fake money. TV poker is bad enough. NO MORE POKER!!!!!!!!!

2) TV about tricked out cars. Overhaulin'. Monster Garage. Pimp My Ride. I know there are more, but these are the only names I know and they're enough. I don't understand people who ant to trick out a car to this extreme, and I don't understand the allure of watching the process.

3) Carb-Free Food. South Beach, Atkins et al are bad enough, but to go into a normal supermarket anymore there seem to be AISLES dedicated to carb-reduced salad dressings and pasta sauces and carb-free carbs. I prefer my food real, thank you very much.

4) Sex and the City. OK, I realize I'm late on this one, but without HBO I didn't have access until recently. Yeah, it's vaguely amusing, but now that I've seen it I understand even less why it held such a draw for so long. (And this begins to explain why I haven't done this meme yet, as I'm having to reach this far to come up with answers)

5) I-Pods. OK, this one is another bit of a stretch, because I get them now, but I didn't until a few weeks ago. No one ever told me that you could actually upload your CD's onto your computer and then download them onto your I-Pod, so now I can kind of see the allure. But now it poses the question of what sort of time and hard drive space do you have to have to being such a task? I think I'd go insane before I had scratched the surface uploading the collection, and then to categorize and cull and upload and download. I'll just deal with the CD's themselves thank you very much.

Gym Etiquette

Did no one's parents ever teach them basic etiquette? These are things I shouldn't have to request of anyone:

• It's bad enough when you do it in the mall, but don't wait ten minutes for that guy to back out of that parking spot. Worst case there is ample parking across the street, and it seems rather silly to make you get the closest spot to the door when you're going to the gym. Spend a little less time on the elliptical if you feel the need, but don't be afraid to walk.
• When choosing which piece of cardio equipment to use it is common courtesy to leave an empty piece of equipment between you and the others working out when crowds allow.
• If your running on the treadmill causes the GROUND TO SHAKE such that others are questioning whether or not there is an earthquake and to hold onto their water bottle with a death grip then you're running too hard and your knees deserve whatever evil thing becomes of them as a result.
• I know you've got an awesome body for a person of age, but that's no reason to just stand around the locker room naked. Take the clothes off then put the clothes back on. No need to make sure everyone can see your naked body.
• If you insist on takng the locker closest to the scale you can at least dress with your back to the scale, so there's no question that you are aren't peeking.

Good Workout CD #4

So I think it can empirically be said that Aimee Mann writes good CD's for working out. 4/5 of her CDs have qualified as good workout CDs.

Tonight's selection -- The Forgotten Arm -- is easily the best of the bunch, and once this challenge is over (if this challenge is ever over) will probably be one of those that I listen to obsessively every day for a week before moving on to something different. The rhythyms just keep you MOVING.

Although on future listens I will probably begin at track #3, as that is when the rocking really starts.

Previewing what's to come, it may be a little while until another CD qualifies for the list, but stay tuned. Annette Funnicello may just surprise all of us.

Good Workout CD #3

Well, no real surprises. Lost in Space by Aimee Mann makes the list of good workout CD's. Much like Bachelor No. 2 it is not for a balls-to-the-wall type workout, but more for a "I would rather do anything else rather than go to the gym today, but given that if I don't go today I won't even get 4 workouts in this week, and my trainer really wants me to get in 5, well I'd best get my butt into the gym and scrape out a workout" type scenario.

As luck would have it, today was just such a day.

The really nice thing about this CD is not only does the tempo change from song to song, but often within a single song as well.

Tomorrow is the last of the Aimee Mann. From there we get a week or two of random artists until we hit what will likely be about a month-worth of The Beatles.

Good Workout CD #2

At the start of the Great CD Listening Project Sweetie predicted that Aimee Mann's I'm With Stupid would be the best of her CD's for working out.

Well, I'm 3/5 the way through the Aimee Mann, and of the three I've heard it's the only one that doesn't qualify as a good workout CD in my book.

Originally I thought that uptempo = better workout CD, but I'm starting to rethink that with today's winner: Bachelor No. 2 by Aimee Mann. I think rather than tempo, rhythym is much more important in determining a good song to work out to. If there's a strong rhythym section it helps keep you moving.

Case in point: the song Satellite -- not a fast song, but in 3/4 time with a really strong drum beat that almost PERFECTLY matched the pace at which I was walking the treadmill at that moment. That's the kind of thing that gets you going.

There are times when the CD gets a little too slow and mellow for perfection, but it always saves itself by bringing on a peppier tune before it gets too slow to continue with the workout.

This is not the CD for your totally aggro I must destroy the world and sweat away all my sins type workout. This is the CD for that day you'd really rather be sitting on the couch with your only physical activity being switching the channel on the remote and lifting the spoon of ice cream to your face, but you really must go to the gym. It's slow and mellow, but still keeps you moving. And it really helps the time pass quickly.

I set the treadmill for 45 minutes this morning and about 10 minutes in I thought I'd be bailing at the magic 30 minute mark, but I made it the full 45 and could have gone longer if I'd had the time.

People are actually starting to find this site by searching on "Good Workout Song," so I think I'm going to continue these posts as I come across more winners.

Scary Mountains

Today marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of Mt. St. Helens' eruption. As a witness to the event it seemed an appropriate time to reminisce on the event, but I've already done that.

And then there's a post over at Pesky Apostrophe that sparked memories of another scary mountain from my childhood. It was the ying to St. Helens yang, but still bears remembrance.

From 1976-1979 my family lived in Clayton, California. You've probably never heard of it (current population is around 10,000). The town sits at the base of Mt. Diablo, and in August 1977 lightning sparked a fire on top of the mountain. The fire burned for several days and due to the fact that our housing development was LITERALLY at the base of the mountain many residents were evacuated.

In 1980 with the eruption of Mt. St. Helens the fear was on a societal level. To see the eruption itself was surreal. Because it is so unlike anything you've evern seen before it is difficult to comprehend what it means as you are watching a giant plume of ash comes out of the top of a mountain. And because the brunt of the explosion was to the northeast, and Portland is to the southwest, much of the damage was not as real to me. I saw video of Yakima being shrouded in darkness, but that town was just a speck on the map. I was eight, so I don't recall video of the mudslides and other destruction happening at the mountain itself. Ash is scratchy and messy and sticky, but walking in an ash-covered world is almost peaceful. It's like walking outside after a fresh snowfall, but the snow is grey rather than white.

In 1977 the fear was on a very personal level. Even at the age of five you know that fire is bad. And to look up at this mountain that is RIGHT THERE and see the fire burning -- that is scary. The evacuation line was just a few blocks from our home. I remember walking with my parents one night to the line. Friends of the family lived just one side or the other of it. I hadn't started school yet, but I'm sure once I did I knew kids that were within the evacuation zone. Had I been a little older I might have contemplated how arbitrary a line that was. What made my house inherently safer than those houses? Three blocks isn't that far a distance. But I was five. And although the evacuation line never made it closer than three blocks away there was a very real possibility that it would creep out to where our house was.

Mt. St. Helens was fast. There were rumblings in advance, but once the mountain blew it had its eruption and then it was over and the clean-up could begin.

Mt. Diablo's fire lasted for days. And there was the possibility that things could change at any moment. If we were asked to evacuate immediately, what would I bring with me so it couldn't burn? (OK, now that I'm a bit older I realize that we probably wouldn't be askedto evacuate IMMEDIATELY, but remember, I was FIVE). Should I pack a bag so I'd be ready to grab and go?

In the end they put the fire out, and I don't believe it ever got to any houses. It most definitely never made it near our house. But for days that fear was there. And once the fire was gone there was a big black mountain to remind you of the destruction.

Once Mt. St. Helens was done with its destruction you couldn't even see it anymore, since it had literally blown its top off.

Mountains have not been good to me over the years. I'm beginning to wonder if it wouldn't be better if I lived in a very flat state. But that would drive me insane, so I guess I'll just have to walk on the wild side.

Dinner Time

If you've read a bit of this blog, or spent much time with me, you probably know that I dig cooking. I dig cookbooks and cooking shows and fancy pots and pans and know that a mandolin is more than just a musical instrument.

Cooking a quality dinner on a busy weeknight can be a challenge, because you are working with a limited amount of time unless you want to eat at 10 pm every night.

So, all things considered I really SHOULD like the program "30 Minute Meals" featuring Rachel Ray on the Food Network. But I just can't stand it. And here's why:

• You makes it seem like it's such an accomplishment that you could get a meal on the table in 30 minutes, and you are the one person who has the key to the kingdom. Except it's not THAT challenging, it just gets difficult when you're looking to add variety. Epicurious has a search you can do, Gourmet has a special section each month, I just want to explore all of my options.
• My TV has volume control. You're not running the dishwasher while you cook (and even if you were, they make quiet models, Sweetie and I had one installed a few weeks ago). IT REALLY ISN'T NECESSARY FOR YOU TO YELL THROUGH THE ENTIRE SHOW.
• You think it's cute that you refer to extra virgin olive oil as "EVOO." And tonight you referred to mozzarella cheese as "Mozz." They're stupid sounding, not cute, and I don't think you'd add that much time if you said extra virgin olive oil instead. Actually, it might save you time, because it seems most of the time you say, "EVOO... that means extra virgin olive oil" as if we're now part of the cool kids club now that we have this little snippet of information.
• According to Alton Brown there are a lot of men who watch the show for you rather than to learn cooking tips. You're not an unattractive person, but I just don't get that. MAYBE THEY'RE ALL GUYS WHO ARE REALLY INTO YELLING.

So I don't care if it condems me to a life of 31 minute meals, I'll suffer through somehow. But I'd really appreciate it if Food Network would move your show to a timeslot I'd never watch.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

Once upon a time I was, for the most part, pretty ambivalent about most sports. I enjoyed watching sports, but wouldn't usually seek them out. I enjoyed learning about the games, but could really do without just as well. I'd watch the World Series and the Superbowl each year, but there was one year where my friends and I watched the Superbowl ONLY for the commercials. (You could actually hear cries of, hurry back with that beer, they're going to a break.)

The exception was junior league hockey, specifically the Portland Winterhawks, and that was just a case of high school lust gone wrong. I'll post a follow-up post to explain that anomaly, as t would just take us off a very bizarre tangent and we may never find the road home again.

So I'm really a take it or leave it gal when it comes to sports. Then I get a temp job for a sports-entertainment company, and the rest is history. I still remember immediately after that happened, talking with friends and stating that if even 24 hours before I got that job anyone had ever suggested I would have a job with a sports team they would have been laughed out of the room. It was just a preposterous suggestion.

But I took the job (more because it was a cool group of people than because of an intense love of sport), and I think the sports fan gene clicked into gear at that point. There was a lot of faking involved - thanks to Sweetie for teaching me the infield fly rule in Version 1.0 of the relationship I did good at that, since most folks assume if you know the infield fly rule you must really know your baseball. There was some pretending I knew what was going on - I'll admit now that although I knew it was really fucking cool that I was witnessing the first 9 inning perfect game in Northwest League history I had to ask someone specifically what a perfect game was. But I became a legitimate fan of the game of baseball.

Then there was the football. Sweetie has long been a member of a fantasy football team, so his Sundays were spent watching said footall and I'd watch along. I've asked some pretty stupid questions, I'm sure, but I've actually been watching the Superbowl for the game the last couple of years.

We won't even go into women's basketball.

And now, in addition to the fantasy baseball team I've been participating in the last few years, I have joined a fantasy football league. What the?!?!?!

I still coud give a shit about the NBA. When I start caring about that you may want to stage an intervention.

Good Workout CD #1

I have (sort of) found the first definitively good workout CD of the collection.

Whatever by Aimee Mann is a good CD to workout to IF you are planning on a 30 minute workout. Unfortunately, I had hoped for a 45 minute workout this evening.

Thirty minutes into the CD you get a very slow, mellow song - Jacob Marley's Chain - that would be perfect if you were trying to cool down, but just takes all the momentum out of your workout. And the next 5 songs are equally mellow and non-inspiring. The last track gets a bit of the energy back, but it's not worth it to skip through the rest of the stuff to get there.

Here's what made it a good workout CD:

• Aimee Mann's got some rocking beats, which really keep you moving
• There's a variety in the tempo of the songs, which keeps it interesting, but not too much of a variety to stall you (well, in the first 7 tracks at least)
• She writes a damn good lyric, so they're interesting songs to listen to.
• Most of her songs have the perfect amount of repetition within the chorus or general structure of the song. So if you don't know the music that well you can still at least pretend to sing along.

So there you have it. There are four more Aimee Mann CD's in the rack, so for the next week or so we'll be determining if she is, empirically, a good artist to work out to or if this CD is an anomaly.

Progress

The numbers on the scale are moving in the right direction, albeit slowly.

I can SEE the difference working out has made, but haven't measured to officially quantify the progress since the adventure began back in February.

But my ring finger is officially 1/2 size smaller than it was at the time of the engagement. So, if nothing else, my fingers are getting in FABULOUS shape!

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 11

So let's review what Uchenna and Joyce gained over the course of The Amazing Race:

• In shaving her head, Joyce got a hairdo far superior to the one she went into the race with.
• They are the only team, in the entire history of the Amazing Race, to ever have their relationship STRENGTHENED by virtue of going on the race.
• They learned that adoption is an option if their fertility treatments don't work out.
• They gained my respect for almost sacrificing their chances at winning one million dollars by insisting a cabbie be paid his full fare rather than just skipping out on him.
• Oh yeah, and they won one million dollars by coming in first (because they did, eventually, beg the money out of folks to pay said cabbie.) CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

Ron and Kelly, well they came in third. And their relationship is over. They say time will tell, but believe me, it's over. I can even tell you the exact moment the relationship died. That would be when Kelly accused Ron of being a commitment-phobe to such a degree that he was a POW in Iraq so he could get out of the Army early. You're too good for her, Ron.

But the most exciting part of this episode, even more exciting than Uchenna and Joyce winning it all, was that this was the episode in which karma reared it's beautiful head. For the past 10 episodes Rob had bribed and lied and done every smarmy thing possible to gain every little advantage in this Race. And today it came back to bite him in the ass.

It started in Jamaica. Rob and Amber got pulled over for a random police check. But they got past that OK.

Leaving the first pit-stop of the race, Ron and Kelly grabbed the first cab. Rob asked if they could share, and Ron and Kelly wisely said no. (Um, Rob, are you the biggest idiot on the planet? You're down to three teams running the race and you think someone will share a cab with you?) Rob asked the cabbie to call another cab. Then Ron and Kelly thwarted those plans. How does it feel to be on this side of the equation, Rob?

It got a little scary when teams flew to Puerto Rico, as Rob was able to get an earlier flight than Ron and Kelly (at the time we'd written Uchenna and Joyce as too far out of it to succeed), but a great equalizer got all the teams back together.

But leaving Puerto Rico for Miami was, perhaps, simultaneously, the most nervewracking and most joyous moment of the Race. Rob and Amber made it onto a 10 am flight by standby. When Uchenna and Joyce made it to the gate they were closing the doors. The flight was closed. The jetway was being pulled from the plane. Did Uchenna and Joyce get smarmy? Did the threaten? Did they beg? Why no, my friends, they did not do such things. They simply asked. Politely, nicely, with respect to the airline employees. Had the employees said, "No, sorry, can't do it" I think Uchenna and Joyce would have been bummed (and can you blame them?), but they would have taken it in stride. They would not blame the airline employees for losing the race on their behalf. But this is all speculation. Because, thanks to the niceness and politeness mentioned above the airline employees called down to the pilot. And the jetway started to move back TOWARDS the plane. And Uchenna and Joyce made the flight.

And from this point forward Rob was the antithesis to Uchenna, and it played out in the results. Teams needed to find a certain cigar shop in Little Havana in Miami. The clue was in English, but the store's name was actually in Spanish. It's Little Havana, you'd expect it to be in Spanish. Uchenna politely spoke to his cabbie, who politely asked someone, in Spanish, where the shop was, and that was that. They were on their way. Rob and Amber were running around Little Havana asking people where this shop was, in English. I'm still not quite sure how they finally ended up stumbling across the place. Life is rough when no one in Little Havana seems to bow down to you because you were on Survivor. Hey, anyone in Little Havana who is reading this blog, I'd like to buy you a beer to thank you for your part in not letting Rob win his million dollars. (Because technically he doesn't get access to any of Amber's money. She's the one who won Survivor, not him.)

So Uchenna and Joyce get to Ft. Lauderdale via cab. They are literally standing outside the gates that are their entre to the millionaire life. They don't have enough money to pay the fare. Do they say screw the cabbie and run for the finish line? THEY DO NOT! (I probably would have done this, but I would then have given the cabbie a tip to more than make up for his troubles after I'd won the million bucks) Do they run close to the finish line, and bum $50 off one of the already eliminated teams? I know the gay boys would have sold their souls if it meant Rob and Amber didn't win the race. They do not. They simply stand around, begging off passers-by until they've got the money for the fare. I like it when teams with class win the race. It gives me faith in humanity.

So, congratulations again to Uchenna and Joyce. I wish you much success and happiness in your future, and know the million dollars will be put to good use.

And now we have a hiatus from the race for an unknown length of time. I know they've begun casting for The Amazing Race 8. The race will be run by families of four, rather than teams of two. I'm intrigued. And I still think, given my past history in picking winners of the race, I've got some pretty decent odds. So stay tuned, because you know I'll be blogging about it.

Defense of Marriage

This post is in response to the comments on a post over at Three Bed Two Bath. Specifically, this comment by a poster named Tom:

I respectfully disagree. I don't know the gay couple down the street. To me, the
"gay marriage" issue is an oxymoron; marriage is between a man and a woman. Has
been for 5000 years. Why change the definition now?Does this mean that gay
couples shouldn't enjoy the benefits and burdens that married people do? No. I'm
for recognizing civil unions between gay people; I think that they should have
the same rights married people do in regards to hospital visitation; they should
also experience the same tax penalty that marrieds get. But to me, the whole
issue is a non-issue anyway; why would a gay couple want to be called married
when the example you give is out there?

I'm getting married in just under two months. My best friend is getting married less than a month after that. I'm getting married to the man of my dreams, and she is getting married to the woman of hers.

We're both planning our weddings, with all the highs and lows that entails. We're both having a religious officiant, guests, pretty dresses, and a reception for friends and loved ones after the event. We're both going to stand up in front of said friends and loved ones, and proclaim our committment to our partners for eternity. We're both looking forward to what our futures hold, to starting famlies with our partners. So why, because I'm going to put a ring on the finger of a boy and she's putting the ring on the finger of a girl should we have different terminology for it? I'm getting married and she's getting civil unioned? That's starting to smack of separate versus equal to me.

And from personal experience, I believe that by using the same terminology regardless of the combination of X and Y chromosomes standing at the altar will help gays get the same benefits as straights do from the experience, no only when it comes to tax implications and health care decisions, but when it comes to acceptance within society as a whole. I come into contact with a lot of very conservative people on a daily basis. When I tell them, "I'm going to my best friend's wedding in August" I think it starts to plant the seed, however small, that this is no differrent than any other wedding out there. And it isn't.

As to the question of why a gay couple would want to get married with the bad examples out there, why would it be any different for gay people than for straight people? There are some examples of bad marriages out there, but there are good examples out there as well. Between my parents and Sweetie's parents there are over 88 years of wedded bliss out there. Add his siblings and we get WELL over the century mark. Those are the examples I look to when modeling what I want our marriage to be. I'm not going to let the bad apples out there ruin it for me.

I don't speak for my best friend, her partner, or my Sweetie in this post. But this is what I believe. And I do know that come the end of August there will be three girls and one boy in two very happy marriages.

Not-Quite-Wireless

When it comes to certain technologies I am slow to adapt, but I improvise to lessen the impact that has on my life.

In the 1990's that meant I didn't have a cordless phone. What I did have was a phone cord that was long enough I could probably go farther than the range of any wireless phone in the day.

Today we don't have wireless internet, but we do have a laptop which is now plugged into a phone cord and extension cord long enough that I could probably take it anywhere in the condo.

On Aging

Today I learned that my trainer's first time hearing the band Queen was when watching the movie "Wayne's World."

It's moments like this that really make me feel my age and some. We're both professional adults who live in condos with significant others. Someone that similar to me cannot be that much younger than me.

People born the year my brother graduated high school are now old enough to smoke. Wait, I mis-typed.

People who were born the year my brother was SUPPOSED to graduate high school are now old enough to smoke. Two years until I hit that magic mark.

Probably should add some Geritol to the registry.

Ascent

It started out innocently enough, with a simple mis-perception (and an inclination for a sick mind).

Next thing you know, the masses started surfing this way.

And I believe I hit rock bottom when I actually GAVE SOMEONE the IDEA to do the search.

That means there's nowhere to go but up, and here is the proof we're on the way up:

- when you search "muppet porn" on google now, I don't fall anywhere in the top 100
- the fellow who did the search turns out to have a couple of really entertaining blogs. Best as I can tell, Out There is a Dave Barry-esque column, and The Chuck Brown Blog is news of the weird, with links to every bizarre news story out there on the planet.

Side Note to Certain Readers (and you know who you are): Thoughts of Muppet Porn bring whole new levels of meaning to the term "Squeeze the Tail" given that some of those muppets probably HAVE tails. Chew on that one for a while.

The Amazing Race 7: Episode 10

I would like to officially log a complaint, because CBS has totally cheated us this season. The Amazing Race is billed as, "a race around the world," but the teams aren't going AROUND the world this time. They started in the US, traveled South, and then started heading East. Until they got to India, at which point they started heading West, first to Turkey and now to England. And based on the tropical settings in the previews from next week, I don't think they're going to be flying across Siberia or any such adventure next week. So this isn't really a race around the world. It's a race that mostly goes around the world, but screw the Pacific Ocean.

Rob and Amber rant of the week: When you are witnessing an intensely sacred religious ritual it is INTOLERABLY rude to say things such as, "They look like they're hanging themselves," or, "They look dead," while in the presence of these people.

Rob and Amber screw-up of the week: Tonight was the final yield available. Rob and Amber and Ron and Kelly had an earlier flight to London, so had the lead over Uchenna and Joyce and Meredith and Gretchen by at least an hour and a half. Having arrived at the yield first I am of the opinion that it would be smartest to yield Uchenna and Joyce. With the set lead, it's unlikely you're going to bump Ron and Kelly from the race. However, that time could make the difference for Uchenna and Joyce and allow Meredith and Gretchen to slide by one more week. Now, call me crazy, but I'd rather go into a final three with one strong team that's maybe a bit close to me (since you know they're going to fly somewhere, so get equalized along the way), and one team that doesn't have a chance in hell, rather than two teams that have strength to them. But maybe that's just me.

I enjoy the race when it travels places I know. Season 3 ended in Seattle, and that was REALLY fun. Especially when a key clue involved a park Sweetie and I always take visitors to. This week the teams traveled London. Which, although I don't know as well as Seattle, WAS a place I traveled last summer, and there were definitely some familiar sites.

The editors get the style points for the week. The road block involved teams having to drive a double-decker bus through a pretty tight obstacle course which took each team a MINIMUM of four tries to master. The editors did a nice little montage of frustrated bus drivers this evening, that was fun.

Previews for next week show Rob having a run-in with the law. I hope he tries to grease the palm of a police officer in a Carribean country and suffering the consequences. That would ROCK. I fear that Uchenna and Joyce may suffer the same fate the clowns did in Season 4, missing a key flight and be out of the running come the end of the race.

So as we approach the finals, let's take a look at how my predictions have played out over the seasons:

Season 4: Prediction: the clowns. They made the finals. (3rd place)
Season 5: Prediction: Chip and Kim. They WON!
Season 6: Prediction: father/daughter. OK, they came in 7th, but everyone makes mistakes
Season 7: Prediction: Ron and Kelly. They made the finals, so are guaranteed at LEAST third place.

I told you at the beginning of the season Vegas should be calling me to make the odds. If Ron and Kelly win I expect the phone call at 11:01 pm. But Sweetie and I will be watching on TiVo, so I'll have to return the call.

The Great CD Listening Project

Inspired by Sweetie's past project I am starting a CD listening project of my very own.

Here are the current guidelines for my project, although they are subject to change at any moment based on a whim I may have:

- The Swankette CD Listening Project shall take place exclusively at the gym, while working out.

- Any CDs shorter than 30 minutes in length (i.e., CD singles) shall be exempt from the project.

- I shall listen to one CD per workout. If a CD is longer than a workout, I reserve the right to roll it over to a second workout, or to not listen to the whole CD.

- Although I will listen to nothing but that particular CD for the workout, I reserve the right to skip songs on the CD if the CD is longer than the workout.

- I shall listen to each of our CDs sequentially as they are stored in the CD racks. This means that I will start with the bizarre Japanese techno-pop CD given to my by my brother (that defies alphebetization due to the fact that the title is in Japanese and translation would be near impossible), and I will end with The Minus 5's "Let the War Against Music Begin" (And before Joe goes all librarian on me, it's part of a two-CD set with Young Fresh Fellows which holds the final spot on the CD racks at this moment)

- If/when we obtain new CDs and I have not yet reached their spot in the sequence they will be worked into the mix. If I have already passed that spot in the lineup, I will have the option to either incorporate it or not as my whim sees fit.

Part of the goal of this challenge is to get to know Sweetie's CDs. I also want to determine what the "best" workout music is, because not all great music is great workout music. From my unscientific CD-listening-while-working-out thus far I think that good workout music either a) contains short, uptempo songs (i.e., Me First and the Gimme Gimmes) or music that I forget how much I love until I'm listening to it (i.e. Liz Phair) With these two factors in mind, and given that Sweetie's CD collection is more about depth than breadth, the following rule applies:

- If I have determined, beyond a reasonable doubt, that an artist is not workout-appropriate I reserve the right to skip the remainder of the CDs by that artist. Although The Beatles occupy more shelf-space than any other, I don't fear having to invoke the rule for them. The Indigo Girls and Aimee Mann may be different stories.

Perhaps I shall occassionally post reviews of CDs on my blog. But given that we've got a LOT of CDs, I work out 3-5 times a week, and I don't listen to CDs during every workout we're currently looking at probably 2+ years for me to complete this.

Which means the pool must begin now as to how far I make it through the project before I give up. Bonus Points if you name the actual artist. Bonus Bonus Points if you can name the final CD of the project.

Cheap Seats

Tonight Sweetie and I got Terrace Club Seats to the Mariners Game. The most expensive seats available on a single game basis. We were four seats away from the press box on the left field side.

These are NICE seats. They're a little wider and cushier than your standard seat in the rest of the stadium. If you're willing to pay a lot of money for food (even by ballpark standards) they offer in-seat service. From our vantage point the umps could turn to me if they had problems gauging whether a ball was fair or foul along the right field line.

After Ichiro CLIMBED the right field wall to nab a would-be home run (go try to find yourself some video footage of this play, as I cannot adequatey describe it, but it was probably the most kick-ass fielding I've ever seen) there were TV's mounted in the seats, so we could see the close-up footage as well.

However, nice as these seats are, given the choice I'd still take third level directly behind home plate. OK, given the choice I'd take the press box, but since that's not an option for me I'd take the third level behind home plate.

From my year working the press box in the minor league games I like being able to see, vaguely accurately, if it's a strike or a ball thrown. As well as I could see right field fouls from my vantage point tonight, left field fouls were impossible to call from our angle. And I don't want to be on the field, because then you may be able to see whether or not the home plate ump is in need of a dandruff shampoo, but you can't see those great fielding plays that can be oh-so-exciting.

And, nice as the in-seat food and beverage service is, when I want an elephant ear I want it NOW. At least standing in line you can feel progress being made towards the goal. When waiting for your server to notice you it's just WAITING. Plus, the quality of the food wasn't the greatest and they didn't even have garlic fries on the menu!

Maybe this is part of why I'll never be rich and famous. I'm too happy just sitting in the cheap seats.

What's in a Name

So since the Angels are now "The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim" doesn't it follow suit that the Dodgers should be "The Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles?"

I'm going to petition to have my home team change their name to "The Los Angeles Mariners of Seattle."

I'm not quite sure why I'm so obsessed over this fact, but it just eats away at me.

Fantasy Champs!

I'm going to win my fantasy baseball league this week. Despite:

The active Curt Schilling being injured.
The active Todd Helton and Danys Baez completely sucking.
The inactive Lyle Overbay having a kick-ass week.
Me totally missing that Oliver Perez had two starts this week.

Props to Melvin Mora, Roy Halladay and Jose Mesa for doing well enough to counter all that.

That inches me into 4th place in the overall standings, and means that I am officially doing better than Sweetie in the league.

Now if I can just sustain the momentum for the rest of the season.

Sliding

I used to be the #3 hit on Google for the search term "Muppet Porn." I've slipped to number four. Apparently I'm not what the muppet porn people are looking for.