They put the "urrrrrrr"? in haute couture

Okay yeah, dumb title, it's the best I could think of.

I'm filing a formal complaint with Project Runway. Christian is so chic. Christian is so edgy. Christian is so couture. Christian's collection looked like Big Bird had a baby with a Hot Topic employee! Rami's and Jillian's collections were beautiful. Beautiful! No Big Bird. Beautiful!

My Old Navy-clad self is going to strike fear into the hearts of the fashion industry, I'm sure.

STOOPID entertainment headline of the day

Is America Ready for a Gay 'Idol'?

Two words, people:

Clay

&

Aiken

Somebody 'splain me

Am home sick today, which BITES because it's a beautiful, sunny day. Sun being so rare, it grieves me to be cooped up when it appears.

Ah well.

So here are my television options at 11:24 am, PST:

Walker Texas Ranger. Seriously? Somebody actually watches this? I found myself boggled that people actually watched this first-run, but in syndication?

Project Runway. But I've seen them all. (T-minus...well, whatever time I get home tomorrow and can watch the recorded version...until the finale!!)

Wildest Wedding Show Moments on E! No. Just...no.

Some reality thing on MTV featuring skanky ho's. Remember when MTV was actually cool and played videos?

Gone Country. Okay, I admit, I watch this, even though country music makes my ears bleed. But I'm such a sucker for train wreck TV.

Ghost Hunters. LOVE this show. But I can't watch it while home alone. In the morning, in broad daylight. I will still scare the crap out of myself. (But the season premiere is tonight! Hubby will be home!)

Cocktail. Dear TBS: Didn't you get the memo that Tom Cruise causes hives and heebie jeebies?

Hmm, Bobby Flay is sauteeing pancetta on Food Network. May have to stay on this. Although now I want bacon.

Anxiously awaiting the mailman for the Netflix delivery. Colin Firth should be in my mailbox soon. I don't even know what movie is coming, I just know I saw Colin's face on yesterday's Netflix email...okay, here it is. Something called Hope Springs. With Minnie Driver! Eww! Why are they letting Minnie near Colin? Oh, now I'm upset.

I am 12 years old, thank you

I had BIG plans for the weekend. First, I was going to have a sparkling clean home first thing Saturday morning in preparation for company at lunch. Then I was going to have a fantastic power walk due to the fact that winter has turned me into Fatty McButterpants.

On Sunday I was going to get up early and quest for a spring jacket (important in this part of the world), then go for another power walk, and then spend a relaxing afternoon reading Pillars of the Earth (no, not because Oprah read it, just because of a word-of-mouth recommendation).

Here's what really happened:

Slept til 8:30 on Saturday. Mad-dashed to Trader Joe's. Vacuumed. Determined guest bathroom was clean enough. Shut doors to all other rooms in the house.

Ate copious amounts of pizza and apple pie (and ice cream) for lunch.

Went to Target and bought cute pink plaid jammie pants. Went to Barnes & Noble and bought a birthday present (accomplishment!). Smelled chocolate chip cookies baking at the "Barnes & Noble Cafe" (Please! It's a Starbucks! Just take the Starbucks gift cards!) Went to grocery store and bought chocolate chip cookie dough. Went home, ate miso soup and baked chocolate chip cookies. Subsequently ate cookies. Tried to read Pillars of the Earth. Almost fell asleep.

Slept til 7:30 on Sunday (doing better). Read paper...and magazines. Didn't dress until 10:00 am. Didn't leave house until 11:15 am (after eating more pizza). Spent fruitless 90 minutes at mall interally screaming about the stupidity of jackets with 3/4 sleeves. If it is warm/dry enough to wear 3/4 sleeves, I don't need to wear a jacket! (Probably uttered this out loud as well.)

Returned home to eat cheese and crackers (more cheese than cracker). Went to library to pick up chick lit books (sorry, Ken), then coffee date. Returned home, changed from public clothing to Han Solo t-shirt and new jammie pants (at 3:00 pm). Bought sweater online (telling myself it was a purchase in lieu of new jacket; am best friends with inner voice). Made nachos (small plate!). Ate two more cookies. Watched Pride & Prejudice on PBS. Ate scrambled eggs and toast. Oh, and an apple! (w/peanut butter) Watched Something Wicked This Way Comes. Ate two more cookies. Watched conclusion of Con Air on TNT. Watched beginning of Doom on TNT. Forced myself to go to bed, despite actually wanting to see how Doom ended (yes, really).

But I did take out the garbage AND roll it to the curb!

I *heart* Mental Floss

So I'm reading through the Jan/Feb 2008 issue of Mental Floss this morning (in a desperate attempt to awaken my brain since I have to be charming for company today. They have a very thorough and clever article called How to Get Into Heaven, a summary of the world's major religions, along with a few offbeat sects. My absolute favorite part of this article is, naturally, the one on Christianity:

Christianity is more of a conglomerate of independent states than a cohesive nation. Think of it as two primary republics - Roman Catholicism and Protestantism - surrounded by small, satellite countries, the borders of which have been hotly contested. *edit* Today, they tend to view each other as the eccentric but well-meaning guy next door.

Under each religion they have Afterlife: At A Glance featuring currency, accessibility, dining, and accommodations. The dining category for Catholicism reads:

Expect large portions of meat (corned beef, sausage, goat) accompanied by equally large portions of carbohydrates (potatoes). Wash it down with beer. Friday is fish night.

I totally spewed my tea when I read that!

And for Protestantism:
Navigating this terrain gets confusin because Protestant pretty much just means "not Catholic." It encompasses everything from the Church of England (which is a lot like Catholicism, but without the Pope) to the sort of rural churches where you pass around rattlesnakes.

Oh, how I want to be on the writing staff for Mental Floss!

But my absolute favorite quote from this issue is in the 4 Things that Aren't Boring About Grammar article:

In the middle ages, grammar was considered the most important of the seven liberal arts because it provided the key to understanding the Bible, alchemy, and astrology - subjects that conferred a kind of magical power, or glamour. Yes, "glamour" is derived from "grammar."

SWEET!

Good things

It is finally here.



Roman Art from the Louvre

http://seattleartmuseum.org/



I've been waiting for this for MONTHS. I must be patient and wait a few weeks, as it'll be more enjoyable once the crowds die down (as much as they ever die down around here).



Also good: Sonrisa Modern Mex at U Village, where we ate for lunch. Have now developed a terrible addiction to their tortilla chips served fresh out of the fryer. (Fat grams don't count on Sundays.)



Always good: Target and Old Navy! February be damned, I am snatching up spring apparel deals where I can find them. And how happy am I that spring scarves are in? Not that I wouldn't wear them anyway since I'm always cold, but they're awfully difficult to find when they're not in favor. The timing is excellent because, since our HVAC has been "repaired" at work, the air conditioning runs ALL THE FARKING TIME in my office. Even when it's 33 degrees outside. Awesome.



Probably not good: The Oscars. Who cares, right? Everything comes out on DVD next month anyway, so why watch it and risk the spoilers. I'll never forgive Kevin Spacey for uttering, "I am Kaiser Soze" when accepting his Oscar, and I hadn't seen the film yet.



Very good: I finally found a light fixture for the dining room (okay, corner) to replace the hideous "chandelier" installed by the previous owners.



Trying to pretend it's good: Tomorrow is Monday. Woe!

Ode

Where oh where has my Berryblossom gone? The box empty, the store shelf shouts "DENIED". My perfect afternoon cuppa. Greens taste like grass. Blacks are too strong for the p.m. But this mild white with the slight hint of berry.... *sniff*

The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman. Discuss.

McAuliffe Park

Clearly, I'm completely addicted to Daily Photo blogs now. So it gave me an idea about finding the lovely, unique attributes in my daily rounds. Problem is, like most people I work all day in a business park and have little opportunity (or weather favor) to take photos.

Plus, there are two very fine Seattle Daily Photo blogs already in existence. Then there's the minor detail that I don't actually live in Seattle!

So in my first exercise to banish winter (if only psychologically) I have borrowed two photos of McAuliffe Park from the City of Kirkland website. McAuliffe is a lovely little spot (once spring has sprung) near my bland business park that used to be a private residence and nursery, but, thanks to living in a place with above-average intelligence, City of Kirkland purchased the old homestead and turned it into a public park. Yay them!

"I was being ironic!"

I find myself in a terrible dilemma. Tuesday evenings...do I watch The Biggest Loser or American Idol?

For the past few weeks, I've been watching The Biggest Loser whilst parked on my arse stuffing my face with Milanos and/or chips and salsa. (Oh come on, like I'm the only person who stuffs her face while watching other people sweat their stuff!)

But last night began the American Idol "live" episodes. What to do, oh WHAT TO DO?? NBC and Fox even had the commercial breaks synched at the exact same time.

One could say, "DVR!" Well see, I'm the only person in America who doesn't have digital cable. Also, I never watch recorded programs, except for Project Runway, which is, of course, the Holy Grail of reality TV. If I don't catch something during the original broadcast, I just won't watch it. I don't know why, it's just the way it is. I always find something to suck my brain, even if there's nothing else on (CSI marathons on Spike, how I love thee), so I always forget about recorded programs.

I had to make a choice. A difficult choice. I have made a pact that I will stick with The Biggest Loser until American Idol becomes manageable in number. I resent American Idol for making me watching more than once per week anyway. I have terrible commitment issues when it comes to television.

EXCEPT, during the only unsynched commercial break, I discovered there's some totally hawt British Aussie guy on American Idol! Sacre bleu! First, how does a British guy get on American Idol? Second, how did a hawt, presumably heterosexual, guy get on American Idol? Third, he's a totally hawt British Aussie guy, so who cares how he got on!
Luckily, I have another week before I have to make this choice again. I requested counsel on this issue, but all I received was a half-grunt amidst the noise of Grand Theft Auto.

Tonight's gem: Project Runway reunion! Oh sweet caterwauling. Let the fur fly!

where am I?

Sweet merciful meshugas, I was able to log in on my first attempt!

Yeah, so I haven't posted in, oh, 18 months or so, but every time I try to comment to the uber cool http://cursinginheels.blogspot.com, I can't ever remember my log in.

So here' s my dealio. I've been attempting to craft my perfect story. In other words, I've been racking my brain trying to complete a marketable work of fiction that will allow me to live a life of leisure. Or at least semi-leisure. Or at least the ability to stay up late enough to watch Project Runway without the requirement of having to wake up at 5 am the following morning.

But my dilemma is this. I cannot for the life of me finish a story. The ideas come and taunt me. I write them in a blaze of glory. And then I come to dead halt somewhere in the middle. And then, POOF, gone. Nothing. I don't care anymore. The characters and ideas that saturated my imagination fade into the ether.

It's not a matter of being stuck on a plot point. It's a matter of being completely uninterested in what I started. I just don't care about the world I created or the people who inhabit it.

And then another idea comes along and usurps the previous one.

It would be nice and convenient if my new ideas could somehow mesh with the old ones and I could cobble together one complete story out of all these disparate pieces. But it never works that way. The ideas and characters are always completely different.

And so they all go stale, and I decide that I'm not really a writer but merely a temporary occupant of a sandbox. And that's okay, as I came to that realization a few years ago.

But it does put a serious dent in my big plans to retire before the age of 80!