Money, Money

I just couldn't do it. I was in a small boutique in Wilmington, hoping to find a few new additions to my wardrobe. With the warm weather, I've been itching to update my wardrobe and buy some new clothes.

So I picked up a soft t-shirt, with a pretty neckline and in a dark fuschia. Pretty and feminine. And all mine for a mere $72. For a t-shirt. I just couldn't do it.

I always asked myself if one day I would make enough money where I could stop looking at price tags. Where spending a few extra $50 on a t-shirt would be beans to me. The answer is...no.

Luckily, Scott and I are in a position where it wouldn't hurt us to spend $72 on a t-shirt. But I still can't bring myself to spend that much money on a t-shirt, or much any other piece of clothing. I think, no matter how much money I make, I will always look at the price tag and think twice about how much something is worth.

Maybe that makes me cheap (it probably does). But I can also think of many other things I'd rather spend that extra money on - things that are much more valuable to me than a soft, pretty t-shirt.

Quote of the Day

I stopped by Starbucks again this morning (tall, vanilla latte, skim milk) and came across this quote on my cup.

"In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe
is called reality, it is most important to have real love, trust and
stability in your life."
--Bernie Brillstein
Film and television producer

I really like that quote. And it got me thinking about how often television and make-believe can take center stage to those real relationships. I think about the times where Scott and I eat together in front of the TV, instead of sitting at the table without the distraction of the TV. Or how we can even get engrossed in the internet, surfing the web for celebrity gossip, instead of talking to each other.

Of course, there's a balance, right? For example, we're currently watching the John Adams mini-series on HBO, which is not only educational, but inspires conversation between us about that time of our country's history. But I think we need to be careful - we all need to be careful - that our relationships in the flesh and blood always trump our relationships with a 2-D image.

Mr. Photogenic

I haven't really been following this whole Spitzer thing, other than what I've read in the headlines. I don't really care about it all that much, other than I think people in power tend to do really stupid things that they wouldn't otherwise.

However, I think it's absolutely hilarious that every picture I've seen of Spitzer and this ordeal has been less than flattering. I don't know if Mr. Spitzer is just not very photogenic or if it's that every newspaper photographer has a gentleman's agreement to make Spitzer look as comic as possible. Just a few of my favorite photos:

That's quite a face, Spitzer!

No more wisdom teeth

On Wednesday, I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed. Do you think I'm any less wiser, now?

It was a much less painful experience than I anticipated. That's the worst part, I think - the anticipation. And then when it's all done, it doesn't turn out to be that bad. That's what they say about childbirth, too, but I'm not sure I'd take it that far.

No dry sockets. No excessive bleeding. Just mushy baby-like food and careful, careful brushing. I'm so ready just to bite down on a carrot or something! The crazy part is that the doctor told me no popcorn, sesame seeds, poppy seeds or peanuts for four months. Four months?! It takes that long for everything to completely heal? Wow. This was just four wisdom teeth coming out - imaging if it was much more serious surgery. Now I see why recovering takes so long. Scott, of course, is loving the no popcorn part because now he is justified in not sharing his popcorn with me at the movies!

So everything is good, which is great, because I'm leaving Sunday for a cross-country trip: New York City for the first half of the week and LA for the second half.

Airplane Etiquette

Give. Me. One. Damn. Minute.

Poison-head arrows were shooting out of my eyes at the suit behind me. It's not that I'm a mean person, it's just that I can be passive-aggressive when I need to be. I wish it were different. I wish I could have looked this jerk in the eye and told him to "Give me a damn minute."

I'm a pretty light traveller these days. I can fit one week's worth of business casual outfits, workout clothes (with gym shoes), casual clothes, fun clothes (if it's a fun city and we'll have time to go out to a bar or two), toiletries, hair brushes, and a good book into a carry-on luggage. I just bring that and my laptop bag with me when I travel because there's no way in hell I'm checking anything (too many pieces of luggage have been lost for me not to have learned that lesson).

But what kills me is that people on the airplane won't budge an inch to let you pull that luggage down from the overhead compartment.

First, I'm amazed by the lack of courtesy people will afford each other when exiting the airplane. There seems that there should be a natural order to things: each row has it's turn to empty into the aisles, with the back rows waiting until it's their turn to go. Instead, it's a mad dash with everyone out for themselves. We've been on the plane 2 hours. Another 3.6 seconds isn't going to kill anybody.

Then, it seems that as soon as you leave your seat, you're expected to make a beeline for the cabin door. Nevermind that you might have some luggage to pull out of the bins. There's the silent impatient scowl from the people behind you, as if they are saying "Look at this conceited passenger. You just HAD to bring your luggage on board and ruin it for the rest of us, didn't you?"

Every time I'm on the plane, I feel like I'm rushing to pull down my luggage, and that I should be apologizing to everyone behind me. And these people don't give even an inch of room. I literally almost took three people out with my luggage on my last flight. It's simple physics, really. The luggage is going to make a downward trajectory arc when I pull it down and anything in the way of that arc is going to get smashed. So if you're breathing down my neck, you better step away.

Now, I'm taking my time. If people aren't going to be courteous to me and other passengers, then they can just wait. I'm going to be more assertive. The next time a passenger is breathing down my neck, I'm going to stop, turn to them and very nicely ask them to back that ass up.

I want my Girl Scout Cookies!

I finally got my four boxes of Girl Scout cookies today. Two boxes of Thin Mints, one Carmel deLights and one Peanut Butter Patties. I was talking to the Cookie Chair and apparently, there's a bit of cookie unrest in the area.

This year, the NC Girl Scout Council switched bakeries (there are two bakeries in the US that are licensed to produce Girl Scout cookies: one in Louisville, KY and another in Richmond, VA). This year, the council chose to go with the one in Richmond, and apparently people are tasting a difference in their cookies...enough to elicit a front-page newspaper article about it. Apparently, the flavors just don't "explode in your mouth" the way they used to.

Customers are upset. They are demanding their money back and there is a hotline dedicated to taking customer complaints and issuing refunds or new boxes of cookies.

News flash: these are COOKIES we're talking about. I know we get excited about our Girl Scout cookies. They are limited in quantity. You don't get to eat them everyday. But, seriously. I can understand if you got a damaged box of cookies (as some people did, due to a leak in one of the warehouses). But a slight taste difference? Come on.

I did my own taste test of a Thin Mint. It tastes pretty darn good. True, it doesn't seem quite as minty as before, but I don't know if that's because I was looking for it or because there really is a difference.

Some people get upset over injustice in their country. I guess injustice can even take the form of a Girl Scout cookie.

Crazy. Ness.

Scott and I have never made a big deal about Valentine's Day. To us, it's an artificial - and superficial - holiday that carries no meaning to our relationship.

After work, I stopped by Whole Foods to pick up a few items. Complete mobscene. I circled the parking lot about twelve times, finally resigning myself to "stalk" a leaving customer so I could confiscate his spot. Then I elbowed my way past the swarm of people hovering around the 12,589 rose bouquest on sale at the front of the store. (That doesn't count the 1,476 bouquets on sale throughout the rest of the store).

The dairy section was sparsely populated - good news for me, as I scored a gallon of milk - but the meat, wine and cheese sections were all a-tither. Seriously, people.

On my way out of the store, I happened to walk next to a man who started laughing. I gave him a quizzical look. "All together now, let's say 'I love you.'" Nicely put. Somehow, we have all got it in our heads that we need to do the same thing as everyone else in this country, to tell the people we love that we love them. Crazy. Ness.

Of course, Scott and I are not completely exempt from the madness. I did receive roses from him today, which was a bit out of the blue (he has also been out of town for the past two weeks, so that might have something to do with it). And I succumbed to the peer pressure at Whole Foods and bought a bottle of Scott's favorite wine.

I am a fifth grader

So tonight I checked out the game show that everyone's been talking about - Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader? I love this show! It's fun because it's not just random trivia, but stuff that you should know and it forces you to reach back in the annals of your mind to remember some of this stuff.

What's neat is that you realize how much more you know now than you did in 5th grade. Sure, maybe it's hard to remember off the top of your head which element, besides Bromine, is a liquid at room temperature. But most people can reason it out (Mercury). It's neat to see how you use other knowledge you've gained over the years to apply it back to the basics. It's not just regurgitation anymore.

On another fifth grade note, I need some advice. Is it so wrong that I love Miley Cyrus' new song "See You Again?" I'm going to be honest. It's been stuck in my head all day and I'm not upset about that. I'm thinking about downloading it from iTunes but am a little worried I may be end up on 20/20. I happened to run across Hannah Montana on TV the other day, and I found myself watching the entire episode. Miley's really cute and it's a pretty good show - for a 10-year-old.

See? This is what happens when writers go on strike!

When stupid parents do stupid things

Many of you will recall the MySpace Suicide Hoax last year, where a 13-year-old girl, Megan, committed suicide after being taunted by a boy she liked on MySpace. It turns out that this "boy" was a fictional profile created by her friend (and her friend's parents) to find out what Megan might be saying about this friend behind her back.

This story has made the secondary headlines again because the sherriff of the town (which isn't too far from where I grew up) kept the case open to see if he could charge the friend's parents with anything. The case recently close because it was decided these parents hadn't broken any laws...besides just being stupid and callous.

Now, of course, I'm sure that these parents never imagined that their actions would cause the suicide of a girl. But at what point do parents bow down to the level of their 13-year-old child?

I'm not a parent, and probably won't be for a while, and I know how much parents hate it when non-parents parent. But I think it's one of those scary things you consider when you think about raising a kid in today's world. You want to be a "friend" to your child, but you have to draw a line at indulging your child's every wish. How would things have been different if those parents stood up to their child and said "No," no matter how much they wanted to protect their child.

I think that's the problem today. We want to over-protect, we want to indulge - but at what cost? And what's the line that separates having a relationship that goes beyond parent-child and becoming a 13-year-old yourself? I think it must take a lot of self-confidence to be a parent - to not worry about what your child thinks of you, especially when you have to make those tough and unpopular choices.

Maybe these parents werent' self-confident enough. They got caught up with living in their child's world and not think about the consequences that grown-ups - and parents - should think about. Kind of makes the thought of raising a kid a little scary.

Mark of Time

We measure time by events that happen as a group. We graduate college together, then we get invitation to weddings, to baby showers and, eventually, to those baby's graduations and weddings. Those are the happy (or bittersweet) ways we mark off time. There are other, sadder, ways.

The time now is that of grandparents dying. I have several friends who grandparents have died recently, and Scott's grandfather and grandmother are not doing well, either. A few weeks ago, I found out my grandmother had a bad fall and broke several bones, sending her to the hospital.

She's not in rehab and, I think, doing better. But, as we know with old people, once a major fall like this happens, it doesn't take much to topple to apple cart again. I have a sinking feeling that this could be the beginning of the end.

It's sad because she's my last grandparent. Both my grandfather died when I was two, and my other grandmother died when I was in college. But she was much older - 99 years old - so it was somewhat expected. And I wasn't as close with her as I am with this grandmother.

I guess that's how time marches on, and how it leaves its wake. Amidst the weddings and births also comes the deaths. It's strange to be at that point in our own lives where we see that exodus among ourselves and our friends.

I'm sure I'll be taking a trip to New York in the coming month to go see her and check up on Nanny. I'll keep you posted on her progress.

The Way I See It #290

This little quote was greeting me on the cup of my Starbucks latte (tall, vanilla, skim milk) this morning:

"On the battlefield of ideas, winning requires moving toward the sound of the guns."

-Newt Gingrich

I like that.

Operation Cookie Drop

It's that time of year again. Just when the slow winter depression starts to set in and the realization that the best of the holidays are over and the cold weather has just begun, a cheery girl in a green vest comes knocking on your door with the promise of hope.

A girl scout and her girl scout cookies.

The Girl Scouts have come up with an ingenious plan. For a mere $3.50 a box (when I was a girl scout, I believe they retailed for $1.75 a box), you get the joy of a limited edition cookie. Now's the time to stock your freezer with boxes of Thin Mints and Samoas (at least, that's what they were called when I was a girl scout), to be later enjoyed the other 11 months of the year.

This year, a little girl scout came knocking on my door, and I bought two boxes of Thin Mints, a box of Samoas and a box of Peanut Butter something-or-others. And one box for the troops.

Operation Cookie Drop is apparently the girl scout's way of spreading cheer and good will to our soliders overseas. Each person can buy a box of cookies for the troops. So I put myself down for a box - I figure it's the least I can do. I'm sure they would appreciate a box of girl scout cookies. I didn't get to specify a particular cookie, though, and I just hope that the troops don't find themselves with 10,000 boxes of Shortbread Cookies. Because, let's be honest, not all girl scout cookies are quite as wonderfully delicious as others.

I imagine boxes of Thin Mints being dropped from airplanes like manna from heaven, each with it's own tiny parachute to bring it safely and gently down upon Iraq and Afghanistan. Troops looking up to the skies cheering and dancing around as the minty goodness rains around them. Newspaper headings proclaiming "Girl Scouts boost Troops' Morale!" and "Osama gets a beating thanks to the Girl Scouts!"

I wonder if the troops, like me, are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the middle of February, when my four boxes of cookies will be delivered to my door, in exchange for $17.50. I wonder if brave girl scouts and their leaders will be traveling to the Middle East to set up cookie tables, selling the extra boxes of cookies to the troops who were not as fortunate to grab a parachuting box of Thin Mints. I wonder if they, like me, are debating if they should have ordered that extra box of Thin Mints and Samoas, just to fortify them through the dreary winter months.

After all, it's not every day that you can enoy a Girl Scout cookie.

Bumper Sticker Time!

On my drive home today, I saw this bumper sticker:

Don't Steal.
The government hates competition.

What? Now I'm not claiming to be a flaming liberal, but seriously?

Jigga what?

Raleigh is currently under voluntary water restrictions. Apparently, we only have 60 days of water left. After that 60th day, I'm not really sure what we're going to do, but Scott and I have been very conscious about the amount of water that we use. I've even gone so far as to save any excess water we have (the water that runs when you're waiting for the hot water to start) and using it to fill our toilets, so we don't use water when we flush! Extreme, I know. But it's actually kind of fun!

I went to Panera today to grab lunch and was greeted by this sign on their door. (My real-time thoughts are in italics).

Dear Valued Panera Guests, (that's me!)

As part of our ongoing water conservation (Awesome! Even Panera is conserving water. Love it), we have switched to disposable tableware. We apologize for the inconvenience. (Jigga what??)

So now they are substituting one evil with another? It's a tough call, I know. Save the water or save the landfills? How about we just come up with a more efficient way to clean dishes with less water?

I guess the only thing to do now is what our parents always told us: bring your lunch.

A slow and painful death?

"Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude." -Proust

I have always loved to read. I was the kid who would read the cereal box and the milk jug as I ate breakfast in the morning. And I am the geek who can spend hours, unknowingly, in a bookstore or library. For me, it's more than just the story. It's the sentence structure and form that I love, that inspire me.

In last week's issue of The New Yorker, an article horrified me (Twilight of Books by Caleb Crain). In the article, Crain give supporting evidence that reading is on the decline, not just in the US but across the world. Among the statistics is the main finding: "Between 1982 and 2002, the percentage of Americans who read literature declined not only in every age group but in every generation - even in those moving from youth into middle age. We are reading less as we age, and we are reading less than people who were our age ten or twenty years ago".

Many sociologists believe that reading books for pleasure will one day be some arcane hobby. So what's the big deal?

There have been numerous studies showing that that readers and viewers (those who primarily watch TV in this case) actually think and view their world differently. Readers remember more, are able to note inconsistencies, are better at critically thinking. Viewers of TV programming are less likely to remember facts and, because TV is more visceral and emotional, are more likely to tune out shows that present a conflicting viewpoint (which affects critical thinking ability). Apparently the Internet falls in-line with reading, but there is fear that if more of the internet turns to the YouTube model, it will soon evolve more towards television. Crain writes:

"It can be amusing to read a magazine whose principles you despise, but it is almost unbearable to watch such a TV show. And so, in a culture of secondary orality, we may be less likely to spend time with ideas we disagree with. Self-doubt, therefore, becomes less likely. It is easy to notice inconsistencies in two written accounts placed side by side. A comparison of two video reports, on the other hand, is cumbersome. Forced to choose between conflicting stories on TV, the viewer falls back on hunches, or on what he believed before he started watching. He thinks in terms of situations and story lines rather than abstractions."

Crain also points out that the decline of reading could change the fabric our country. Readers are more likely to play sports, visit art museums, attend theatre, take photographs, volunteer and vote. "Perhaps readers venture so readily outside because what they experience in solitude gives them confidence. Perhaps reading is the prototype of independence. No matter how much one worships an author, Proust wrote, 'all he can do is give us desires.' Reading somehow gives us the boldness to act on them. Such a habit might be quite dangerous for a democracy to lose."

I agree. And I understand that there is probably a strong correlation between higher socio-economic status and readers, which give us the time - and money - to visit those museums and volunteer. But I wonder if there is also a strong correlation between reading and being successful, no matter what your socio-economic background. I think reading makes you think outside of yourself, gives you the tools to write better, and allows your mind to work in a different way than just watching TV. It would be a terrible thing for our culture to lose that.

So the question is now, what do we do about it?

Holidays on Ice

Happy New Year!

The holidays have flown by. And even though it's not officially the end of the holiday season (that doesn't happen until January 6th), it's strange how the New Year caps off the celebrations. With no more holiday parties planned (I think it's only Americans who don't make the big fuss about the Epiphany) and all the presents opened, we now hunker down for the long, drab winter ahead and pray for Spring. Of course, North Carolina hasn't seen temperatures below 45 degrees yet, so winter hasn't officially started for us.

It's strange, isn't it? That the best part of the winter season is behind us and New Years has kicked off the start of No Man's Land. There's really nothing to look forward to, save a Valentine's Day here and a President's Day there.

We hosted the whole fam for the holidays this year. And it was fun (it's strange how time, even just a week, can erase the pain and discomfort of being around family 24/7. Maybe that's why women keep having babies). To my mom's credit, I think it was strange that this was the first year that her daughter hosted the holidays. And that's hard for someone who likes to be in control. She kept "suggesting" ways to cook, how to clean my house, and when to rake my yard. And when I ignored her, she "suggested" these things to Scott, hoping that there would be a trickle-down effect. Let's just say there was a lot of drinking going on.

I think everyone had a good time, though. And no matter how painful or uncomfortable being around the family can be, there is comfort in having them around - comfort in the chaos and frustration. I think, for awhile at least, we'll be leaving the holiday hosting to our families, though. We never realized how much work - and food - it entails!

Here's hoping that everyone had just as comfortable of a holiday season and is looking forward to 2008!

Rudolph, the red-nosed Jeep?

First it was a wreath on the grill. Then it was Christmas lights on the bike rack. And now, it's just a full-fledged reindeer.

Why do people feel the urge to decorate their cars for Christmas? I drove by a Jeep the other day decked out with antlers and a red nose. And just today I saw a minivan with the same getup. Are we rolling in the dough that much that we can spend out excess cash on costumes for our car? And nothing celebrates Jesus quite like a car in a Rudolph disguise. I'm sure God's looking down on us right now, rolling his eyes.

If we've got all this excess cash, how about we spread it around a little. Maybe help out a child in need. Or give to a soup kitchen. Or support a homeless shelter.

After all, I can think of so many better ways to spend money...especially during this season that's all about giving to others.

A Sign of the Times

Flying often (very often, these days), I've noticed that some airlines are upgrading their fleet. You can tell because the seats look different, the overhead bins are smaller and the carpet is newer.

There's also another change: no more "No Smoking" signs. You know the ones...the space above each seat where two lights are illuminated - "Fasten Your Seatbelt" (also communicated with a simple seatbelt illustration) and "No Smoking" (also communicated with a cigarette with a red line through it). The "No Smoking" light has now been replaced by the "Turn off Electronic Devices" light (no cool graphic to go with this one).

I don't actually ever remember being able to smoke on a flight, but it's strange to see this icon be updated. It's what I've always seen on a plane - a bit of comfort and familiarality replaced by something new.

At the same time, it's exciting to be part of two eras - and be aware of the change. I don't think any other generation has seen - and been a part of - such rapid technological change. After all, this week marks the 25th anniversary of the Commodor 64 - I was three when it debuted, but I've watch computers change (remember DOS?), digital music descend upon us (remember Napster?), and now seen it become so embedded in our culture that it has found its way even in the small space above an airline seat. My kids will never see the "No Smoking" light on an airplane; although I'm sure the old comfort of "Turn off Electronic Devices" will one day be replaced with something newfangled.

It's pretty exciting.

Only in America...or, at least, Kentucky

I'm in Cincinnati this week, on a research project for Sears. Some of the research brought me just over the river into Florence, Kentucky. To be exact, I was at the Florence Mall.

As I drove into the city, I noticed a big, red-and-white striped water tower with "Florence Y'all" written in big block letters. I thought this was just a little southern charm. After all, Kentucky's motto is Unbridled Spirit.

Or maybe it should be Bridled Budget. One of the local Cincinnati-ites told me this trivia jewel: several years ago, the water tower actually read "Florence Mall". But then a city ordinance was passed that basically prohibited commercial names being advertised on public property. This applied to the Florence water tower. So to save a little time - and paint - they simply changed the "M" to a "Y" and added an apostrophe. Hence, "Florence Mall" became "Florence Y'all".

Pretty darn clever. And just a little darn ghetto.

So that's your trivia for the night. Enjoy!

The Windy City

I just got home from a week in Chicago (which capped off the end of our US ethnography research - yay!). Every time I go to Chicago, I realize how much I really like the city. It has such a different vibe than New York. As you walk down the street, you see people walking together, talking together. Colleagues and friends are huddled together, scurrying off to lunch. Other groups are standing outside, giving hugs and kisses goodbye or hello.

New York is so different - no groups of people, no hugs and kisses. Just people alone, scurrying off to lunch by themselves. No one looks at you. There's really no relationships, at least in the street, like there are in Chicago.

What gives a city it's own vibe? How is it that each city has it's own trademark, it's own personality? How does that get started, and how does it perpectuate itself? Is it a cycle, where once the vibe is established, it attracts people who enjoy and seek out that environment? But there's got to be more to it than that, because people move to cities for jobs and families, external reasons besides being attracted to a lifestyle.

It reminds me of a house smell, in a way. Ever notice how different houses have different smells? And even when you move into a new house, eventually, it'll take on your smell. You can identify people by that smell. How does that smell get started and what contributes to it? And despite bringing more stuff into the house, or having more people in a house, the same smell lingers.

I like Chicago. It's vibe, it's personality, and yes, it's smell.

No friend of mine

In a previous post, I mentioned the boyfriend who left my mother-in-law, and how we referred to him as our "stepfather". Just for the record, we no longer consider that person a "stepfather". If I passed him on the street, he would be just another stranger to me.

People are so predictable

I've heard a quote before. "There are no innovative ideas. Just the same old ideas put together in new ways."

Now that I have a true commute back and forth to work (although, I'm sure, commuters in other parts of the country would probably laugh at my use of the word "commute"), I'm amazed to be able to judge human behavior through traffic patterns. And I've decided that no one is really that unique. Collectively, we have the same behaviors and the same thoughts that drive those behaviors - at least when it comes to commuting.

For example, I usually don't have much traffic in the morning. This is probably because I don't have to be at work until 9:00 am. However, I've found that on Mondays and Fridays there isn't as much traffic in the morning. Perhaps because people are less motivated to get to work on Monday and Friday mornings, or perhaps more people don't work on those those. Whatever the reason, collectively, fewer people are on the road on those mornings.

And the commute back on those days has a similar pattern. It doesn't matter what time I leave on Mondays because I never hit traffic - perhaps everyone is busy on Mondays and leaves work at different times. On Fridays, I'm lucky to make it home in 40 minutes if I leave at 4:45 pm. Everyone is ready to get off work and start the weekend.

I left at 4:00 on Wednesday, thinking I would beat traffic home. Nope. Everyone had the same idea.

Whatever the reasons, we seem to have similar behaviors. We go to work around the same time. We leave around the same time. Around the holidays, we have the same idea about "beating traffic". I guess as humans, we don't have much of an original thought in our heads - we're pretty predictable.

Now I just need to find a new way of putting together those same ideas so I can beat the rush hour traffic on I-40.

Babies, babies everywhere and not a bite to eat

Why is everyone suddenly mating?

Two of my high school friends had the fruits of that mating come into the world recently, and I have to say, they are pretty cute babies. First came Martha and Patrick's baby (and who even knew that she was carrying a baby because she gained, like, 0.56 ounces during her entire pregnancy?). Here's a picture of Baby Owen:

And then came Baby Xavier, Jeff and Karen's baby. He's pretty precious, too, wouldn't you agree? My friends make pretty cute babies.

Too bad I'm not around these little babies, because they are so cute, I want to eat them up (see previous post). Yes, they are that yummy.

And now my friend, Alison, just told me that her sister is pregnant!

That brings me to reason #486 that I'm getting old: What is that wise proverb? Oh, yes. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in the baby carriage. The wedding crush is peetering out, and now the crush of little babies is making its way. Pretty soon, we'll be getting graduation announcements from these babies!

Congratulations to X and O and to the four proud new parents!

It's all about the Benjamins' Benjamin

Have you ever noticed how 99.9% of all songs ever recorded are about relationships? It's either about falling in love, falling out of love, or wanting to fall in love. Basically, it's all about sex. Very few songs you listen to have to do with anything other than that. One that comes to mind is "Unwritten", but that's really about it. Of course, there is that 60's and 70's genre that dealt primarily with the war. But again, it was all about making love.

A quick peak at the iTunes Top Songs should help clarify the point:

1. Kiss Kiss
2. Apologize
3. Crank That
4. Bubbly
5. No One
6. How Far We've Come
7. Cyclone
8. Gimme More
9. Hate That I Love You
10. Stronger

Of these, only "Crank That" and "How Far We've Come" don't mention anything about the opposite sex. (And you could argue that "Crank That" ...see me bouncing on my toe...is just a veiled mating dance).

If you continue down rest of the popular iTunes list, you'll see just how obsessesed we are with relationships. Why is that? Could it be that, evolutionarily, that's our whole point of being (or one of them) and it's so ingrained in our being that it comes out in song? Or could it be that it's something that we all can relate to, in one way or another, and so makes the artist more marketable? Or maybe we just don't have anything better to sing about?

It's also strange that all songs have exactly the same format: verse - chorus - verse - chorus - bridge - chorus. Sometimes a song might start off with a chorus and then go to a verse. Or maybe it ends with two choruses. But listen next time. Every song is in exactly the same format. There is always a bridge (the part of the song that sounds just a little bit different, or is in a slightly different key).

Interesting. Perhaps we are a lot more predictable than we'd like to think.

Babies are good to eat

My co-worker brought her new baby into work the other day. She was pretty cute...all chunky and giggly. As the baby was passed around from girl to girl (because, let's be honest, those were the only people interested in holding her), everyone was nuzzly with the baby and some people even nibbled on her. Especially on her little fat thighs.

And there were several comments of "You're so cute, I want to eat you up." It's not the first time I've heard that. When someone wants to take a little bite of baby thigh. Or just swallow a baby whole because it's so cute.

What is it about eating babies that we like to do? Why is it that we want to eat something that's really cute? Why do we want something cute inside our belly? Do other animals do this, as well, in their own animal way?

Mammals in general tend to stare at a new baby. How many times have you walked into a mall and craned your neck to gander a look at a baby in a stroller? It's like we're checking it out because we know it's going to be pretty cute (most of them, at least), and we want to take a look. Even monkeys and other mammals seem to do this...when a new baby is born, they all gather around to look at it. We're curious and want to see what it looks like.

But I'm still wondering why we want to eat them.

Moving must be a lot like childbirth

We finally moved into our new home this weekend! It's strange, because even though we're in, it doesn't quite feel like it's really ours yet. Maybe because everything is new - new furniture, new sheets, even new food (now that I'm shopping at a different grocery store, I have to adapt to their offerings).

It occured to me last week and this weekend that moving must be a lot like childbirth. It seems like a great idea until you've packed your 85th box, and then you realize that this was the worst idea ever. But by then, it's too late to do anything about it. And then you have to unpack all the boxes you just packed. And you have stuff lying around for days. And somehow, five years later, you forget all the pain and agony of moving and you want to do it all over again. And it seems like a good idea until you've packed your 85th box....

In short, I'm never moving again and I'm never having kids. Unless someone comes and it does it for me (the moving and the kids).

I really love our house and can't wait until all the furniture finally arrives and we get everything settled and decorated the way we want. My goal is to be live-in ready by the Christmas holidays. We'll see how I do!

Monopoly's back!

Monopoly is back at McDonald's! Throughout the years, it has made an appearance, and it must be a money-maker for the food chain, otherwise they wouldn't keep bringing it back. The amazing thing is that this is such a testament to the power of the game. I remember when McDonald's first came out with Monopoly (or at least I think it was the first time) - I had to be about 6 years old. That means that this game has been going on at McDonald's for over 20 years.

What is it about Monopoly that makes it popular throughout the generations? Is it the ability to go from pauper to prince in one deft move? Is it the ability to play the game for 5 hours straight and still see no end in sight? Or do we find it appealing because it's a game that mimics reality?

I'm a huge Monopoly fan, so I'm glad to see it come back to McDonald's. Of course, I don't like McDonald's, so I won't be helping its business decision, but it's nice to have a bit of nostalgia. And to remember some good memories from playing the game.

What a month!

I'm glad October is finally here. September was quite a month! I was in the office for 6 days last month, and at home for 9 days. The rest of the time was spent in St. Louis, Atlanta, Indianapolis and Savannah.

Well, Savannah was for fun. A bunch of girls had our first girls weekend. Every year, we usually see each other because someone is getting married. This year, however, we realized that no one was getting married, so we decided to have a "No Wedding Weekend". It was a lot of fun - all of us were in the same sorority and get along fabulously.


Saturday, Jen and I did a cooking class at the 700 Cooking School, which was fantastic. It was, quite possibly, the most delicious food I've ever put into my mouth. Here's a picture of us with Chef Darrin...he's been featured on The Food Network and HGTV, and his shrimp and grits were voted best in Savannah, so I felt like we were in the presence of a celebrity!
Sturday night was a bit crazy. It's been awhile since I've had that much fun, or gotten that drunk! Lots and lots of fun. And then we had hangover food at The Lady and Sons, which was equally delicious. So now, after all that food, it's time to hit the gym again!

If September was that much fun, I wonder what October has in store!

At least he has a fun name to say

Nothing like a dictator to incite the American public.

Our Iranian friend, President Ahmadinejad, made his appearance today at Columbia University. There seem to be people on both sides of the fence, with most Americans protesting his invitation to speak at the university.

I'm a bit torn on the subject. On the one hand, what he has done - and what he does - is despicable. On the other hand, we should allow ourselves to hear what he has to say. Freedom of speech has nothing to do with it, per se. It's more of the opportunity to hear differing perspectives and to open our minds to what is out in the world.

I won't go into all the details, but back when I was at the Old Gold and Black at Wake (the student newspaper), an advertising insert went into the paper. It turned out to be a pamphlet called "The Revisionist" which said, in a nutshell, that the Holocaust was a figment of the Jewish imagination. Some students on campus were outraged (most didn't care either way, unfortunately) and censored the insert.

But here was the perfect opportunity to talk about that. To talk about revisionism and what it means in history. To open our eyes to beliefs that exist beyond our limited view of the world and to understand what they are and why we should disagree. Should we give ignorance, give evil a chance to be studied and talked about? Yes. Simply because ignorance and evil exist and without knowing the foundation of why it exists or what the underlying beliefs are, then we can never attack it at the core and disband it forever.

I think Ahmadinejad should have been given the opportunity to speak. I want to know what he's all about and to understand that foundation of his evil regime. Because then we can tear it apart, bit by bit, and educate others on why it is wrong. And only by that education can we perhaps prevent another dictator like him from doing the same thing.

Knowledge is such a powerful instrument. But to use it to our greatest advantage means that sometimes we have to hear what we don't want to hear, open the wounds and allow ourselves to be pained in order to stem the infusion of hate and outwit the spread of ignorance.

I lead a boring life

Every year, my firm does an off-site, where we spend three days talking about the firm and having fun. And every year there's this tradition where they do "fun" (note the quotation marks) with the new hires from that year. One of them being the game "Three Truths and a Lie". This is the inane game some evil person made up, where you state three truths and a lie about yourself and everyone tries to guess the lie.

I say an evil person made it up because I can't think of one damn interesting thing about me. I lead a very boring life. I haven't done anything spectacular. No drama. No crazy adventure in Tibet. No skydiving over the hills of Kentucky. No chase from the KGB out of Russia. Nothing. Just a little piano. Some travel. And a random meeting with Tammy Faye.

At this same off-site, everyone tells a funny travel story (since we travel a lot). And they award a prize to the best/funniest travel story. Again, not a damn thing interesting has happened while I traveled. No crazy dash for the airplane. No being tagged as a security threat. No parachuting off of a plunging plane.

I got nothing.

Just shut up and deal with it

I was on a flight this afternoon (I was a bit nervous about flying on the day-anniversay of September 11th, but everything turned out fine, obviously) from Indianapolis to Atlanta. Once we pushed off from the gate and made our way to the runway, the pilot came on to tell us that there was a weather system over Atlanta and we would have to wait until it passed over.

I don't have a problem with this. Whenever possible, I like to avoid flying into potentially hazardous weather. I have a hard enough time as it is, dealing with a little turbulence in the air. The last thing I want is to hit some crazy air pocket and dive nose-first into the ground. (OK, so maybe I'm being a bit over-dramatic).

At this time, the pilot said we could use our cell phones while we waited the 40-minutes or so to get clearance. As if on cue, everyone's cell phones popped open and people started dialing. They dialed their loved ones. They dialed their friends. They dialed anyone that would listen to them complain. Because that's exactly what everyone proceeded to do for the next 40 minutes.

"I'm sitting here on the tarmac and of course we haven't lifted off yet..."
"It's going to be 40 minutes before we leave..."
"With the day I've had, this just tops it off...."

I just did my crossword puzzle, trying to think of an 8-letter word for "a paycheck deduction, for some". (The answer is State Tax, in case you're wondering).

You know what? We can't control the weather. We're just sitting here for a few minutes. And they are even allowing you to use your cell phone. Why do you have to use it to complain?

Especially on the 6-year anniversary of one of the biggest tragedies our nation has face. On an anniversary of a day when people lost their lives and their loved ones in the blink of an eye. All we have to deal with is sitting on a plane for an extra 40 minutes.

So shut up. And deal.

When did I become old?

Sign #5: We are doing some research for American Eagle, whose target market is girls ages 15-25. Part of the study required the girls to test some new underwear fabric and they had to go online to rate the different undies that they tried. In order to increase the number ofrespondents who took the online questionnaire, we gave them a call to remind them about the study and to encourage them to go online.

The first number I called didn't ring. No, it played. That's right, I finally got to experience the new cell phone hype of having a song play to the dialer, instead of a ring tone. Avril Lavigne was the artist of choice. I almost hung up, totally confused, until I suddenly put it all together. Then I dialed another number. This time, a message came on, at least warning me to "enjoy the music while we connect your call." Then a band came on that I never even heard of.

Ah yes. The digital age, where not only do we have to wear our ipod headphones while walking from the car to the mall entrance, but we also get to hear music while we dial our friends' cell phones.

The Flexin' Tightends

Somehow, I got roped into playing in my work's Fantasy Football League. Well, it was probably my own fault. You know, being the new girl and not wanting to seem like I'm not "with it."

Except I'm not. At least, not when it comes to football.

So now I'm scrambling, reading up on FFL picks and analyzing the expert's picks. My co-workers have created spreadsheets and multiple regressions (I'm not even kidding) and I'm sort of thinking of just creating a really hot team. As in: picking all cute players. After all, my team name is "Flexin' Tightends."

I did attempt a spreadsheet, but I really don't know what it means. Heck, I'm not even sure I know what a Tight End is.

So if anyone has any good picks or strategies, please help!

My favorite birthday present? A new house.

It's official...Scott and I are finally homeowners! I felt like a celebrity this morning, with so many people wanting my signature.

And, to celebrate, I'm finally posting a a few pictures of the house. We're really excited and Scott is already talking about what kind of lawn mower he wants to buy from Lowe's. For my part, I've made friends with the folks at Pottery Barn. I really should get a part time job there to help pay for all our too-near-in-the-future purchases.

We're celebrating my birthday in the new house (get your mind out of the gutter). Since all our furniture to date has been either hand-me-downs or cheap buys (which have all done their part well), we need to get all new furniture. So we have a date with some newspaper, measuring tape and scissors, to cut out furniture shapes and arrange them in the room. Happy 28th to me! :)

That being said, if anyone feels so inclined to send money as a housewarming gift, you can use our current address. We also accept PayPal.

Cheers to new homes and lots of debt! It's the American way, right?

Where the corn is as high as an elephant's eye

Well, almost.

Our weekend took us on an adventure to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. More specifically, Waverly.

It started at 5:30am on Friday, where we were greeted at the RDU airport by a 40 minute security line, which is unheard of here. After spending 10 minutes in line, Scott realizes that he has forgotten his ID. (how does someone forget their ID, you ask? It was an honest mistake...he had to make photocopies of it for our mortgage). So he runs home to grab his passport, but by the time he gets back and we try to cut in the security line, we miss our flight.

And all flights to Cedar Rapids, Iowa are full until 10:00 pm. Go figure.

The airline guy is trying to help us get as close to Cedar Rapids as possible. And throughout this whole ordeal, I felt like I was on an episode of Jaywalking. First, he spells Iowa "IHOWA." Then he suggests Akron (Ohio), Detroit (Michigan) and Cheyenne (Wyoming) as plausible alternatives to Cedar Rapids. Hmmm....

So we settled on Chicago, rented a car and drive five hours to our final destination. After a little tiff with the car rental agency, which I won, along with a free upgrade to a Lexus SUV.

We did get to really see a part of America that we otherwise wouldn't have, had we flown.

The family reunion (the whole point for this trip) was awesome. My dad is one of six and his oldest sister had 12 kids, so I have tons of first cousins I haven't even met, not to mention tons of second and third cousins. We got to see a milking operation, a tractor pull and some great fireworks. The weather was awesome and everyone had such a great time. Lots of fresh air, drinking, and just hanging out. Oh, and lots of fresh corn...delicious!

Lies, all lies!

I'm traveling again for work this week, spending time in good ol' Rockville, MD. In my hotel bathroom hangs the following sign:

Dear Guest,
Hilton Family of Brands is committed to conserving our country's natural resources. Every day, tons of detergent and millions of gallons of water are used to wash towels which have only been used once. Here's how you can help:

• A towel on the rack means "I'll use it again"
• A towel on the floor means "Please exchange"

Doing my part to "conserve our country's natural resources," (what about the planet's resources??) I hung my towel on said rack. That day, I found a brand new towel (and bath mat and washcloth) in my bathroom.

So I went to the front desk that night, explained the situation and said that I wanted to reuse my towels. They made a note to housekeeping.

The next morning, I once again hung my towel on said rack. Once again, my towel (and bath mat and washcloth) were replaced with new ones.

I guess that's about all you can expect from the family that produced Paris Hilton.

Losing our independence

I was flipping through the channels the other day and came across the movie "You've Got Mail." You remember this one - the romantic comedy that reunited "Sleepless in Seattle" stars Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, who fall in love over the internet, only to find out they are bitter business rivals - he the owner of the big box book store chain and she the owner of the small, independent children's bookstore.

In the end, love - and big box - prevail. Whether this was an economic statement made by the writers, or just a statement of reality, I don't know. But it got me thinking of consumers, the discrepancy between what we say and what we do, the Wall Street Journal and Seven Jeans.

Rupert Murdoch has purchased The Wall Street Journal. The wires are all a-buzz about whether the paper will maintain its editorial independence or if Murdoch will use it as another one of his mouthpieces. It's really quite sad that a paper with this kind of credibility will potentially be tarnished by bias. (I don't blame Murdoch, per se...I blame the Bancrofts for getting it in this situation.)

And earlier this week, Seven Jeans (Seven for all Humanity) was purchased by VF Corp - the same company that makes Wrangler. Not quite the same cache. What will the new owner mean for the designer jean brand?

Everywhere we look, it seems like the independent companies are being gobbled up by bigger companies. And I wonder, what does this mean for quality- for the quality of our newspapers, the quality of our jeans, the quality of our bookstores? Economically, I know that this is not all bad...with consolidation we get economies of scale, which means quicker service and cheaper prices for consumers, not to mention a friendlier effect on our environment. It means more exhaustive distribution and potentially better management.

But what do we lose? Do we lose editorial independence (the right to think for ourselves)? Do we lose brand prestige and uniqueness? Do we lose customer service and comfort?

And maybe we, as consumers, as to blame for the loss of independence. What are our demands, and can small business keep up with them? Do we demand that the Dow Jones, despite being a small company, keep up economically with -er- the Jones's? Do we demand that our small bookstores carry the latest titles and be open at our fancy? Maybe our big box ideals are driving the smaller businesses into the ground. We say we want independence to prevail, but do we really?

We can only wait to see what happens with the Wall Street Journal and Seven Jeans. I hope that a new kind of hybrid could emerge - one in which both strengths are leveraged. Maybe these newly purchased companies will prove that.

After all, it all turned up roses for Tom and Meg.

Because we love people who make us look normal

How I came across this gem, only God will ever know. I skipped the boring parts and went right for the juice.

From the Wilmington local newspaper, published this weekend:

"At seven o'clock on the evening of July 7, 2007, Crystal D. Ross and Richard E. Cummings, M.D., exchanged wedding vows. The celebration took place at the Hilton Wilmington Riverside, which had been completely transformed into the ruins of a Scottish Chapel. The reception which followed was a masquerage ball set to a "Phantom of the Opera" theme.

A lavish 15-foot archway drenched with red roses was the setting as guests entered the exquisite ceremony chapel desinged to portry the ruins of a Scottish Chapel. The chapel was enveloped with a romantic red glow from a hand-painted sunset on a canvas that stretched the length of the room....

...As the ceremony concluded, a harpist serenaded guests as they made their way onto the concourse which had been transformed into the lobby of a Broadway theatre, complete with a box office...as guests were escorted by ushers through a candlelit labyrinth, their first glimpse of the ballroom was a grand sweeping staircase and the bridal party, adorned with beautiful, hand-designed masks...

...Once all the guests were seated, the bride descended the grand staircase to the dance floor to meet her husband, who was attired in a black cape and mask as in "Phantom of the Opera." The couple entertained their guests by re-enacting scenes from "Phantom of the Opera" to perfection."

You can't make this shit up. Further research (because, let's be honest, researching this is more fun than catching up on celebrity gossip) reveals that her hubby (who was the one in a black cape and mask) is a plastic surgeon. More specifically, a boob doctor.

And because I'm a nosy bitch, I've included a few photos (courtesy of google) for full visual enjoyment.

Not that I'm an expert on the subject, but I'd like to clarify just a few things for the world at large.

Trashy: getting married at a hotel that has been transformed to look like the ruins of a Scottish Chapel.

Classy: Flying your guests to Scotland to get married at the ruins of an ACTUAL Scottish Chapel.

Trashy: Transforming your wedding reception into a Broadway Theatre.

Classy: Going on a date with your husband to an ACTUAL Broadway Theatre.

Trashy: Re-enacting scenes from "The Phantom of the Opera" at your wedding reception.

Classy: No re-enacting any scenes from any musical at your wedding reception.

I could go on, but I think you get the point.

A little more black than gold

As many of you may have heard - especially those of you who follow sports closely - our beloved Wake Forest basketball coach, Skip Prosser, died yesterday. I was shocked when I heard the news and I even teared up a bit. I know that sounds dumb, considering that I didn't actually know the guy personally - and he wasn't even the basketball coach until the season after I graduated - but what makes it so tragic was that it was sudden. He was only 56 years old and literally dropped dead of a heart attack.

What I remember about him is that he totally transformed basketball at Wake. He got the student section moved down so we were right next to the court (before that, the close seats were saved for the big-money alumni). He stole students' hearts when he delivered pizza to everyone camping out for tickets (no other coach in recent memory had ever done that before). He ate dinner and lunch at the student center.

And he was just a nice guy. So down-to-earth and someone you could see becoming a mentor or friend. Truly, Wake Forest basketball will never be the same again.

For those interested, here's an article from the Winston-Salem Journal. You can also click on the link to see a photo slideshow. Also, there will be some tributes tonight on ESPN and ESPN Classic, so watch for those.

It's always sad when someone dies. It's sadder when someone dies unexpectantly. And it's sadder still when someone dies who left a mark on a small part of the world and still had so much work left to do.

Friday, July 27, 2007
WFU community 'rolls the Quad' in honor of Prosser The WFU community began paying respects to Skip Prosser early this morning by doing something the beloved basketball coach loved to participate in - "rolling the Quad."

Prosser often joined Wake Forest University students on the Quad to stream the trees with toilet paper after big basketball victories.Rolling the Quad is usually a loud, jubilant celebration. This morning, it was quiet and somber. More than 200 came to the Quad about midnight to show their respects to Prosser, who died yesterday at 56. They included students, former students, faculty and athletes and former athletes. The basketball team was on the Quad at the beginning. They were joined by former WFU basketball stars Chris Paul, who now plays for the New Orleans Hornets, and Justin Gray.

"He was such an honorable, well-respected guy," said Lindsay Donohue, a WFU senior from Winston-Salem who wore her tie-dye WFU T-shirt. "I just wanted to come out here and pay my respects. Also for his family."

Prosser made students feel like they were a part of WFU basketball, and they said they wanted to roll the Quad as a sign of what he meant to them.Senior David Curameng of Fayetteville said he thought it was a cruel joke when Donohue called him to tell him Prosser had died. Then he was in shock, as were many others."He was always up even though our basketball team took a downfall a little," Curameng said. "He really did inspire the student body to always be active with the team, and he just made just made us feel like we were a huge part."

Many people had left campus by 1 a.m., but a few stayed quietly watching as light breezes moved the streams of white paper.

"He was just a great representative of Wake Forest, and I just felt like he played a big role in my life as a student, so I figured it was the least I could do to pay respects to him and his family, " said Todd Augustus, a 2003 graduate of WFU who works at Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center.

Steven Elliott, a 2004 graduate, said he also wanted to be part of the tribute and couldn't believe Prosser was gone. "I was a Screaming Deacon for four years. He provided so much entertainment when I was here."

Jason Carter, a WFU senior from the town of Wake Forest, was among a number of students who spread the word to come to the Quad at midnight.

He described this morning as the most somber Quad-rolling ever. Seeing so many people together quietly on the Quad was powerful, he said. "I guess in a way we're celebrating Skip's life," Carter said. He recalled the times that Prosser would come out to help after a big win. Prosser threw toilet paper on the trees and mingled with everyone else in celebration.

"Everybody's got a story of seeing Skip," he said. And he remembered what Prosser told students before the important games: "I'll see you all here at midnight."

http://www.journalnow.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=WSJ/MGArticle/WSJ_BasicArticle&c=MGArticle&cid=1173352158368

Three years and counting...

On Wednesday, Scott and I celebrated our three year anniversary!

I can't believe it's been three years...for the sake of sounding like a walking cliche, the time has truly flown by. Since it was the middle of the week and I had a big report I was working on, we just went to an Italian dinner. We're planning on beaching it this weekend and hoping to get some time together to celebrate properly.

I have to give props to our best man, Pat. Every year, he remembers our anniversary and gives us a call. Which is a big deal not only because he's a guy (and guys just don't do that kind of thing), but also because I'm surprised he even remembers we got married...he was half dead during the wedding from drinking so much. Let's just say he had to get wheeled out in the wheelchair at the end of the night. Don't worry - we have pictures. And I'm waiting for just the right time to pull them out!

Happy Anni to us!

WTF?

This week, I was in New York City for business. Our flights got in around 5:00 and, fortunately, we made it downtown and to our hotels before the steam explosion. By the time we heard about the explosion, it was in context, so we weren't frightened by the news. However, I read reports where people thought it was something on the scale of September 11 when it first happened. And who could blame them?

But, I ask, if that's the case, then what the hell are these people doing?

Seriously? You think we just had a terrorist explosion and you're busy busting out the cell phones and digital cameras so you can catch it all on film? How about getting the hell out of there?

People will never cease to amaze me. This happened on 43rd Street and my sister lives on 41st, so she was displaced for a bit, but is back in her home safe and sound. A big shout out to her for hosting me this weekend in her abestos-filled apartment! And another shout out to Carson for bringing us out for a night on the town...I believe that was the first time I ever boarded an airplane still drunk after pulling an all nighter. For the record, I drank my younger sister under the table!

Mysteries of the Universe

Today's random thought comes courtesy of a drive down the local highway. As I was passing underneath a set of power lines, I looked up and saw a pair of shoes dangling. We've all seen this before....and not just once. Many times. And I wonder:

What brings a person to throw their shoes up on the power line?

Is it a way to dispose of old running shoes, by whipping them around and around your head only to let them go at full velocity, climbing, climbing until they wrap themselves around the power line?

Or is it a grade-school prank played by a big, fat bully on a poor, skinny nerd, taking his shoes away from him so he has to scamper off barefooted, only to perpetuate the nerd's reputation?

Who's shoes are these? And what posesses someone to throw them up on power lines? I've never done this myself - or had this done to me - so it's hard for me to imagine the situation and to understand why this seems like a fun idea.

If anyone can shed some light....

Taking care of business

Everyday, most of us do something to take care of our health. Maybe we choose the salad over the burger. Or we walk up a flight of stairs instead of taking the elevator. Perhaps it's as simple as taking a multi-vitamin every morning. Whatever it is, most of us have our health on our minds and take steps - however small - to keep our bodies healthy.

We should the do the same for the environment. Everyday, we should all take steps to preserve our planet and make the world a healthier place to live in. They can be big steps, like taking public transportation to work everyday. Or small steps, like recycling glass and plastic. If, everyday, every one of us took steps to save the environment, the impact on the planet could be huge.

Scientists are in dispute as to whether the Earth's rising temperatures are a natural, cyclical event or man-made. Few things in life are black and white, and I believe that, while there may be some natural event going on here, it has, at the very least, been exacerbated by man. (Have you seen the pollution put out by China every second? There's a reason most of us had problems literally breathing in that country). As people who know and understand what we're doing to our environment - with or without the help of nature - we have a personal responsibility to take care of our planet. A personal responsibility.

Today, I walked to and from the grocery store, bringing my own bags. The total environmental impact of my trip was 2 plastic meat bags, to keep the meat from leaking. I could probably do even better. But it feels good to know that I didn't burn natural resources (gas), I didn't emit excess CO2 into the air, and I didn't add plastic bags to the landfill. And I got exercise! A small step, but if I could do that every time I go to the grocery store, think how many bags, how much gas and CO2 I would save over the course of a year.

We have a personal responsibility to take care of our bodies. We have a personal responsibility to take care of our planet. Maybe it's recycling glass, paper and plastic. Or grouping errands together to reduce car trips. Perhaps it's as simple as reusing a shopping bag as a garbage bag. Whatever it is, most of us should have the environment on our minds everyday and take steps - however small - to take care of our planet.

The quickest negotiations...ever

We gave an offer on the house around 1:30 pm. We received a counter at about 3:00 pm. Scott and I discussed a counter at 3:15 pm. They called to confirm at 4:00 pm.

Scott and I are officially under contract with a house and are super excited! Just one step away from true home ownership. To celebrate, we did a Tour de Pottery Barn et Restoration Hardware, just to get some ideas.

The home inspection will hopefully take place next week. Barring any catastrophe, we'll close on August 17th! All these years of tearing out pages from home furnishings catalogs will hopefully pay off.

Today was definitely a lucky day. I don't know...the number 7 just may trump my lucky number 22!

Round Two begins

Scott and I put an offer on a house today. This will be our second offer since, as you may remember, our previous offer on another home got rejected. (As a side note, that house still hasn't sold yet, confirming our judgement that the house is overpriced and the sellers are being stubborn).

I'm hoping the stars align on this new house. I had an appointment on Friday to go by to look at the house we got rejected on, trying to decide if we wanted to put in another bid and open negotiations with the sellers again. Our agent happened to find another home that just went on the market that day and suggested we run by to look at it.

It's really almost perfect. It's everything we want in a home - big, remodeled kitchen with granite countertops, master bedroom bathroom, great entertainment area, cute yard, in the area of Raleigh we wanted to live. It will need a little TLC - there are some things we'll need to do to make it cozier and more up to our tastes. But structurally, everything is there; anything we do will just be cosmetic and require some minor contracting work.

So we made an offer. Really, we gave them asking price, since we felt they were fairly pricing the home and we really felt like this was a steal. Every other time, we've stumbled across a house after it had been on the market a few hours, only to find it was already snatched up. I'm hoping - praying, really - that, this time, we're the ones who are doing the snatching.

After all, it is 7/7/07. That's got to account for some luck.

Am I the only one?

Just a typical e-mail from my mother:

How are you? Just on the news a pregnant woman - young newspaper delivery person - was found murdered with multiple stab wounds in Raleigh behind AmeriKing store near highway. Be careful especially when you jog. Don't jog at night
or in isolated areas. Jog with someone.
Love, Mommy

Please someone tell me that they have a mother as neurotic as mine. This is not an isolated incident. I get these e-mails on a regular basis...sometimes it's someone who had a pocketbook snatched. Sometimes it's someone's husband that has poisoned them. Is this what my future holds? One day harrassing my kids about crimes that may or may not happen to them?

And I'm not sure what the connection between a pregnant woman being stabbed and me jogging at night is. Maybe someone can shed some light on that one.

Oh, Amie...

Open foot, insert mouth

Background story: one of my sister's dearest high school friends recently got pregnant. She's 21 years old, brought up as a good Catholic girl (aren't we all??) and still has a year of college to finish up. My sister and she literally grew up together, meeting in grade school and remaining close to this day. My sister's friend is devastated, but decided to keep the baby, rather than having an abortion. And, despite her mother's pleadings, has decided not to marry the father, since she doesn't feel like he's "the one."

In general, I have to commend her. She's pretty brave deciding to have the baby, and to hold out for true love to get married. And I know she must be so scared right now, especially since her parents as also devasted and the friend feels like people are going to think she's "white trash."

The story: This weekend, while at home for the reunion, my parents and Scott ran into Barnes and Noble, where we ran into this friend's mother. My parents ran into the mother a few minutes before I did, and when I rounded the corner, they all seemed to be wearing serious expressions. Of course, you can imagine what was on my mind and what I thought they were talking about, so I decided to lighten the mood (read: make a complete ass of myself).

After giving her a hug and saying hi, I said "So I hear congratulations are in order!" Her eyes got wide, she grabbed by arm, and pulled me behind the stacks. "What are you talking about?" This is where I start to babble incoherently, the blood rushing to my face and my heart pounding. "Are you talking about what I think you're talking about? Do you know? Do your parents know? Oh god, I want to die."

So did I.

She came back and confronted my parents (who were champs, by the way) and started to cry. I made a grown woman cry, god damn it. I felt terrible. I still feel terrible. Thirty minutes later, the sniffling subsided and I think she got a lot of fears and issues off her mind. I guess when you're in a situation like that, and you're embarrassed, you don't talk about it with many people and a lot of those feelings get trapped inside. In a way, maybe this was a good way to let a bit of steam out and to know that there are people out there that support you and your daughter, and people are more forgiving and understanding than you may initally give them credit for. Heck, even I was surprised at how supportive my mother was and how she really provided some quick and dirty counseling in the Barnes and Noble.

It's been a long time since I've wanted to sink into the floor and die...or at least rewind time by a mere 30 seconds. This was probably my biggest foot-in-mouth moment ever. I still feel terrible, but maybe, in the end, it helped a bit.

I just hope it doesn't happen again. Because the next moment just might be when I blurt out to the friend: How in the hell do you get accidentally get pregnant in the 21st century??

High School Reunion

This weekend was my 10-year high school reunion. I was actually really excited to go and see faces and people, many of whom I haven't seen in ten years. The reunion was an all-day Saturday affair, with a tour of the school in the morning, a picnic that afternoon, and an evening reception. Since we took the opportunity of being home to spend time with my parents, Scott and I just attending the reception that night.

Typically, the girls were all dolled up and the guys just didn't care (or at least, pretended not to care). There were so many pregnant people! We're all in that time of our lives, I suppose, but it was a regular baby factory out there!

It was fun to see everyone - from my elementary school crush to great friends that I lost touch with to really good friends that I still keep in touch with. And it was interesting to see some people who's lives are just as you expected them to be - and others who certainly surprised you. I guess that's how most high school reunions go, though.

So how did I fare? In high school, I was definitely the awkward, gangly girl...someone who hadn't quite fit into her body - or herself - yet. And I think, partly because of that, I lacked confidence. Ten years later, I think I've found more of that confidence and am more comfortable in my own skin. I think my personality has always been the same, although a bit toned down from high school. I was a bit more crazy, neurotic and "intense" (as Matt told me this weekend) than I am now...I think with my experiences over the last ten years - college, traveling, getting married, grad school - I've mellowed a bit.

I've always found it interesting to see yourself through others' eyes. To get their perspective and compare how it's different from how you see yourself. This weekend, I got to do exactly that and think I've done just about alright these past ten years. My high school self would have been proud!

It was fun to see everyone and to reconnect and I'm looking forward to doing that again in another ten years. Maybe there will be a lot fewer pregnant girls that time!

One man's trash is another man's treasure

On Saturday, we had our yardsale. And we didn't do to shabby...$257. I was amazed at the things that sold - and didn't sell. Clearly, furniture is a big mover. Our old nightstand and dressers were among the first items to go. And clothes sold well, too. But the R5 golfbag went to Goodwill and the golf clubs didn't sell until the last hour. I guess our treasure was another man's trash.

But boy, does it feel good to have gotten rid of some stuff. My wardrobe has been cut by more than half and now you can actually get into our guest room closet. I think it's funny that while we want to reduce and minimize, other people were looking to add by coming to our yardsale. That's the beauty of a perfect market system, right? I'm all about getting rid of "stuff" and clearning out the clutter in my life. But even though we got rid of a lot of this "stuff", there still seem to be more "stuff" in our house. Do we really need all this "stuff?" I think our lives would be less complicated without all the clutter and nonsense that surrounds us.

With a new house on our minds, we keep on throwing things out and we keep an eye on not getting things that we don't need. I want to haul as little things as possible to our new abode and want to start fresh with clean lines and quality furniture, even if it means spending more and having less. Out with the old, and in the new (and few)!

Rejected

Our offer on the house was countered. We then counter-counter offered. And they rejected it. Which leaves us home-less.

I really had my heart set on that house. Scott seems to think that the fat lady hasn't yet sung...something about a strategy on their part. I think not only has the fat lady sung, she has left the stage. Although I do tend to get a bit fatalistic when my dreams have been crushed into a fine, chalky powder.

We'll see and I'll keep you posted.

In other news...my friend, Martha, has told me she is pregnant! Yay for new babies! Boo for not telling me for SIX MONTHS!! Just because I live on the other side of the country doesn't give you an excuse not to spread the good news. At least it's just in time for our 10 year high school reunion next weekend. Can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces! And I can't wait to see pregnant Martha! :)

Off to the races!

Scott and I put our first ever offer on a house today! It's a bit exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. We really like the house - it has tons of charm, lots of what we're looking for, and just a great vibe - but we think the sellers are asking way too much for it. Even their agent admitted, in his own way, to our agent that he advised them to list it for less.

So we offered what is truly a fair price, but it's way lower than what they are asking. I'm just hoping that they see the light and realize that they really want to give this house to a young, deserving, loving couple. Because that's what it's all about, right? Not how much you get for a house, but who's going to take it from you.

Wish us luck...we hope to hear something soon!

Women are revengeful, spiteful creatures

I can say that. I'm a woman.

Scott and I went running at our favorite trail at Lake Lynn and came across quite a sight in the parking lot: a little sports car (well, if you call a Pontiac a sports car) had all four tires slashed (and when I mean slashed, I mean someone almost completely carved out the spokes on one of the tires), had its rear window completely smashed in (glass littered the pavement), had a "spiderweb" on the front windshield from someone hitting it with a blunt object, was keyed down the side and had graffiti written all over the car (not suitable for reprint here).

We came the conclusion that it had to be a woman because only a woman would be this revengeful. Plus, the graffiti had graphics to go with the written insults and I just don't think a man would have that much attention to detail.

And then, a few days later, I heard Carrie Underwood's new song:

I dug my key into the side

of his pretty little souped-up four wheel drive.

Carved my name into his leather seats.

Took a Louisville Slugger to both headlights

Slashed a hole in all four tires.

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

Hmmm...life imitating art? Or maybe further evidence that woman are revengeful, spiteful creatures. And take their cues from other revengeful, spiteful women!

Save the Turtles

Like many states, North Carolina allows motorists to choose special-issue license plates. Perhaps you'd like to proudly display you're a Purple Heart recipient. North Carolina has a license plate for you. Or maybe you're a proud UNC-Chapel Hill fan. For a mere $49.95 a year, you can wear a tar heel on your license plate. (Yuck).

I came across one just the other day - Save the Turtles. While thinking about this great cause and what I could do to help save the turtles, I thought back to some international friends that went to school with me. Among the many cultural quirks they experienced in America, one of the most amusing to them was the obsession Americans have with their causes. We seem to have an organization for anything you can think of - Race for the Cure (breast cancer), March of Dimes (premature births), PETA (anti-fur), Pro-Life, Pro-Choice, Greenpeace, Cropwalk, Autism Speaks...the list can go on and on. So why so many causes and why does this appear to be somewhat unique to us Americans?

Perhaps having passion for a cause, and rallying others around it, is part of the human condition. How that manifests itself may be more a factor of environment. The Taliban has passion for a cause and rallies others around this cause. In history, the same was true for the Crusades. Maybe in America, where the government is stable, people have disposable resources and people are relatively happy, we find other causes to get involved in. We could rally around religion or politics, as you find in other countries, but since we are relatively happy in our current state, we don't want to tip the balance too far. So we get more granular. More, well, frivilous. And our passion and causes get more and more segmented.

Which brings us back to the turtles.

I would like to save the turtles. I really would. But how can I save the turtles? And what am I saving them from? And why stop at turtles? I would like to save the dolphins, the oceans. The air, the unborn babies (yes, I said it. So what? I'm a little bit country, a little bit rock 'n roll), the rainforests, the poor. Basically, I would like to save the world. Can I get that on my North Carolina license plate?

I suspect we're saving the world from one another, from ourselves. If that's the case, then our cause seems fruitless and much too large for any one person (or even a big group of us) to tackle. Maybe that's why we segment: if we can find a group of people that feels passionately about turtles, then maybe we can help save just one piece of our planet. Maybe it's more than just belonging to a group, giving money, and getting others to believe in your cause. Maybe it starts with each one of us, for us to save the turtles, the babies, the world, from ourselves. Little things we could do everyday to make a small difference. Between a campaign of one and a campaign of many, perhaps we can save the world.

That would be a cool license plate.

Another graduation in the family

This weekend, my sister graduated from Notre Dame. It's hard to imagine that this little person that I grew up with (we're six years apart) donned a cap and gown and is now going out in the real world. To do what, we don't know yet. But she's officially out of school! (What's the saying?..."You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here").

What I find so interesting about graduations is the wave. We've all done it. I did it last week. In the mass of families and friends present at graduation, we, the graduates, struggle to find the people we know in the crowd. And the family is just as guilty. They are waving like crazy to their graduate, somehow thinking that, among the thousands of people in an arena, their baby is going to spot them. And how did we accomplish this goal before cell phones? This weekend, along with everyone else around me, I stood on a bleacher, cell phone glued to ear, talking to my sister on the floor.

"See Section 110? The bleachers above the purple seats? Go up three rows. See me waving? No? Ok, now I'm jumping up and down? See me? Ok, see the woman in the bright pink shirt? I'm just to the left of her. See me now?"

And then the magic moment, when we spot each other. That click, that somehow, we stand out to someone. That someone knows exactly where we are, can find us, and that makes us feel a little better. That we are not just a blob among a sea of strangers. Someone loves us. Someone cares. And someone is always watching out for us.

Healthy, Wealthy and Wise

I'm not sure about the healthy part, given that I've been too lazy to work out these past couple of weeks. And given that I have student loans out the ears, I can guarantee the wealthy part is non-existent. But I now have concrete proof that I'm definitely wiser...no thanks to the $80,000 I just donated to Duke.

My wisdom teeth are coming in.

That's right, I'm 27 (going on 28) years old and my wisdom teeth are just now coming in. And no, I never had them taken out when I was a teenager, despite the urging of many dentists through the years. I don't like surgery to begin with, especially when it comes to the mouth or eye area. My adult molars didn't come in until my early teens, and the dentist had to go in and cut out my baby molars to allow the adult ones to come in. There was a lot of cracking and extracting. And bleeding. It seemed like major surgery to me. So you can see why I was always reluctant to have the wisdom teeth taken out. Plus, I'm a weenie when it comes to pain. And I went through enough of that with braces.

So now I'm teething like a little baby. Somebody pass the Ambesol, please! The bottom right tooth is surfacing and the upper right is just starting to poke through. So my dentist told me the bad news...that I need to have them taken out. "Don't worry," he said. "It's not that bad." I may be a bit naive, but I'm no teenager. I've heard from my friends about the dry sockets, the drooling, the chipmunk cheeks, the having to sip food through a straw for a week. Don't lie to me. I can take it like a woman. Maybe.

The good news is that it's not an emergency. The doc said I could wait another six months, maybe even a year. So I'm praying that the new additions don't screw up the thousands of dollars of orthodontics my parents shelled out (thanks, guys) and that they stay clean and under the radar. I made it this long - the last thing I want is to have my wisdom teeth removed.

Plus, I'm kind of liking this whole "wiser" thing.

Finished!

I've done it! I've graduated from Duke and officially have my Masters!

The ceremony was yesterday and my family and in-laws came in to help us celebrate. The ceremony was really nice and then we had a little get-together at our place with our family and friends. It was a nice to way to cap off two years of hard work.

I'm also a bit sad that it's all over. I came to school a bit insecure and doubtful of how I would do among so many talented people. There were some low points during the first year, when I struggled to understand concepts and do well. Looking back now, I think I surprised myself. I'm happy with how I did and feel I learned a lot. I got involved in many activities and am proud of my accomplishments, even though they were small.

Most of all, I'm sad to leave so many friends behind. We're going to scatter ourselves across the country and it's sad to close another chapter and move on, with the hope that we'll all keep in touch. So I'm excited to be done and to start back into the real world, but I'm also a little blue. I guess that's normal, right?

Cheers to all my fellow Duke MBA graduates this weekend, and to all the other graduates who are ready to close one chapter and move on to the next!

Si, Senorita

We're back from our trip to Costa Rica and it was a blast! We had beautiful weather, despite going during the "green" (read: rainy) season, saw magnificent beaches and wildlife and had a blast with our friends Abby and Nathan.

We started our trip in San Jose, where we spent the night and and had some great Tico food. Then early the next morning we were off by bus and boat to Tortuguero, which is on the Caribbean side of the country. This area is very remote. We did a zipline through the trees, saw monkeys in the distance, birdwatched, and just generally chilled. It was so humid in Tortuguero - my hair has never been so curly!

After a few days here, we left by plane to Corcovado, which is the southernmost pennisula on the Pacific side of the country. The plane ride itself was an experience...no security, no ID checks, no cockpit door, no airport (unless you count a 300 square foot room with plastic patio furniture an airport). But definitely an adventure!

In Corcovado, we stayed at Bosque del Cabo, which was a beautiful resort. Not as humid here and beaches that were gentle enough to swim in. The shoreline was breathtaking, and we hiked around the area, went horseback riding, and saw tons and tons of monkeys, macaws and tucans. There was so much wildlife all around, and the food was delicious! We loved our resort - we stayed in a hut that was open air and looked out onto the Pacific ocean. The best part was the shower - it was outside, but private and you felt as though you were showering in the jungle.

Of course, no vacation is without its hiccups. The airline lost Abby and Nathan's luggage...for four days! Luckily, we're all about the same size. And Scott and I got a bit sick for one day each. But we recovered, the luggage was found, and we had a great time nonetheless.

I have to highly recommend CentralAmerica.com for planning our vacation. All our transfers were smooth and flawless, the places we stayed were great, and everything went off without a hitch.

Now it's time to plan our next vacation...

Cipro? Check. Chloroquin? Check. Bug Spray with 25% DEET? Check. Cost Rica, here we come!

Happy May Day!

Enough about Fuqua and cheating. That's old news. Let's move on to something more important and exciting....

We leave in the morning for Costa Rica! Scott and I have done a great job of packing a week's worth of clothing, toiletries, and other necessities into less-than-25-pound-bags. I even broke out my back-packing gear that I haven't used since my European trekking after college graduation. We're packed, medicated, Ti-Voed and ready to go!

Of course, I didn't forget my camera. I plan on taking lots of - what else? - monkey pictures to post on the blog! We're very excited and can't wait to share all our adventures and pictures with you. If I can make it to a cybercafe while I'm there, I'll be sure to share stories!

Until next week...