I *heart* ass kicking

Monkey Man and I went to see Ong-Bak last night and I totally loved it. Tony Jaa is a thing of beauty. And I'm considering going into therapy to find out why I find blood and violence so hot. 'Cause that's weird, right?

The Mighty Pucks

I cannot tell you how happy this makes me. And I can't tell you why it makes me happy. But it does. Heh.

Anyone know a good place to play Air Hockey in Manhattan?

A touch of the OCD

I'm rather disappointed in myself today. While my bra and underwear match each other, they don't exactly match my outfit. And since my top has a plunging neckline I notice the lack of matching every time I look down. It's disconcerting for me. See, when I got dressed I thought I was going to wear the pink, red & black top. So I went with the red bra & underwear. Which works well with that top. But then at the last minute I decided I wasn't really feeling the red, pink & black top and noticed the blue top was clean. So I opted for that. But I always wear the dark blue bra with the snowflakes when I wear the blue top. So that it doesn't distract me when I look down and if the top opens a little (it's a wrap top style) you don't really notice the bra initially. But with a bright red bra, if the top ends up shifting or something it just screams, "HI, I'M AMANDA'S BRA!!! LOOK AT HER BOOBS!!!!" And while I feel that if I have to clothe, clean, care for and lug around these suckers they should certainly be looked at; well, I don't want them really screaming at people at work. You know? Plus, the whole not matching is making me twitchy. The purse is red, black and white too. I'm a mess. I should just go home. I'm not even wearing the right necklace for this top. ARGH.

You know, you'd think from all the fuss I make with this stuff I'd look more put together and pretty. But I don't. It's all for my inner peace and harmony and not my outward appearance it seems.

When Mom Comes to Town

A friendly update: Today's Global Vegetarian Bar at the International Table is...

Ireland.

Uh-huh. Turnips and Chive Champs and Veggie Irish Stew and Cabbage. I have no words. The French mocked me less for being a vegetarian than the Irish. Whatever.

So, Mom came to town for over a week and we had a lovely time. No fighting. Maybe a little minor snapping, but no fighting. Which was excellent. We love each other and we really like each other too. But for some reason we tend to fight a lot when spending several days in almost constant company. Because I believe myself to be nearly perfect I like to pretend that it is mostly her fault. But, obviously it's just as much mine. And probably most of it is because we're strong personalities who believe we're perfect and are also people who mostly live alone (she has the husband and I have the frequent houseguests) and thus don't have to share space too often. Who knows. This visit we behaved beautifully and had a nice time together. Except when I broke her and then she broke me. With the rich food eating and late night partying.

Thursday was mellow. And then Friday I took her out on date night with Muffy & Steph. But first dragged her into Manhattan for lunch with Rock Star Fran and some coworkers for RSF's farewell lunch before her whirlwind European tour. Both events were lovely but, the combination of a rich lunch, a rich dinner, late night lattes, too much recent plane travel (she got home from a Norwegian Cruise less than a week before she left to come to New York) and a very late night all conspired to make her tummy VERY unhappy Saturday morning. So, I spent the morning & early afternoon putzing and wishing I could do more while she spent it alternating between napping and feeling like the devil. Poor Mommy. She wouldn't let me hold her hair or get her a cool cloth or anything. Because I think Mommies are just that way or something. She DID let me go out and get her saltines and 7up though. I think she mostly did that so I would stop annoying her with my need to do something for her. Not sure. So, we mostly stayed in that weekend. Which was nice. Lots of TV watching, doing little chores here and there, reading, napping, playing with the kitties and shopping for Valentine's Day cards for that always awesome Daddy o'Mine.

Monday was Jake's night. Mom loves their cornbread and brisket and mac & cheese and such (even though she apparently did not learn her lesson from Friday night no one got sick from our feeding extravaganza). I introduced her to the show Everwood that night over brisket. Which she loved. And may start watching. Though we did start to fight over one of the way too young stars of the show and that can't be healthy. Can it?

Tuesday was TARCON6. Which was excellent. Vader and Taylor joined us for the fun. We grabbed dinner at Galaxy Diner just in case the food situation was as miserable as it was last season. And then headed to MSG.

I do love The Amazing Race. I think it's a phenomenal show and my favorite reality show ever, even if I don't agree with some of the changes they've made to it recently. But I do find it kind of odd to fawn over reality show stars. And can't really get all that excited about meeting them. You know? And despite the fact that I am a total dork in my own right, I do sometimes find myself sucked into thinking about the cliche of a bunch of folks obsessing over a reality show in an online forum. A lot of them are fabulous people (though, as in any situation with a large number of people, a lot of them are not). The recapper for the show is brilliant as are most of the people associated with Television Without Pity. But stepping back and looking at it in a general way, it's one of the more dorky things out there. Which is my way of trying to nicely say that my favorite part of TARCon is watching all the nuttier folks at the event get smashed and slobber on the racers. I'm a bad, bad person. And I love to people watch. And I'm petty and snarky and evil. So, this kind of event is so perfect for me.

The party started out with all of us watching the finale, and that's almost as much fun as the people watching. Free beers and a few hundred people who love the show hanging out in a bar laughing and moaning and booing and having fun. It's really pretty cool. And it was nice having a few hundred people booing along with me at the bad outcome of the race when the annoying team barely squeaked by the awesome team. It made the episode a little less fun than it would have been otherwise. Because I loved it aside from the ending. They went to Hawai'i and stayed there for a while. Long enough for Mom and I to identify every place they went, babble about all the times we'd been to such and such a place and cackle like freaks when one of the contestants was unable to pronounce Kalakaua. Because we're weird.

Then Mom and Taylor went out for a smoke (Taylor to smoke and Mom to long for the days of smoking). Vader and I stayed to drink more. Our foursome actually ended up working really well. Vader and I wandered out to the entrance area to do what we did last season, which was sit around mocking everyone and having fun. But quietly. To ourselves. So no one else could hear us. Because while I'm mean, I don't want to actually hurt anyone's feelings. I don't think. Not like that. We also kept waiting for Mom and Taylor to return. Eventually we realized they had and were in the receiving line waiting for the racers. So we wished them well, got them drinks and then hit the bar to avoid the massive crowds and drink ourselves silly. We learned last season that if you sit by the bar, most of the racers will eventually end up standing next to you anyway. That's how we got a former winner's picture with Ed's Shirt. Heh.

We did get to see a lot of racers. Particularly this one guy, Aaron. Vader got her photo taken with him while I was in the bathroom. And I can't blame her. He's gorgeous. Seriously. He kept catching me staring at him as I was planning our wedding together in my mind. Because the man is just painfully pretty. And I am so, so shallow when it comes to boys. Well, I like smart boys too. A smart boy who is ridiculously pretty could pretty much make me his bitch for life. I'm so sad. Anyway. Met him briefly. Took some photos of Taylor with last season's winners Chip & Kim and this season's third place team, Adam and Rebecca. Chatted with Rebecca's dad and drank a lot. And watched my Mom have as much fun people watching as I do. She wandered all over taking photos of racers, goggling at the strangeness and having a blast. I love the families of the teams. They just kinda stand there wondering what the hell all these people are freaking out over. My family would be that way. "This is just Amanda. Really. No need to make a fuss over her. We like her, but we have to as she's family. She's really just a big doof. No, you don't need to buy her a drink. Really. Do NOT encourage the ego."

I did get a little excited about the favorite team of the race, Kris & Jon. They played beautifully for the most part and behaved really well and I was definitely rooting for them. But I had nothing to say to them beyond, "Great Race, Loved You!" So I just took Vader's picture with them and made faces at the the crazy drunk people pushing her out of the way so they could fawn. Heh. Crazy drunk people. Taylor abandoned us at some point and finally Vader, Mom and I had enough and decided to head out as well. And I got Mom home after 3AM. Because I'm a bad daughter and keep my Mom out to all hours all the time. I hope her cardiologist doesn't find out. Heh. Though she is apparently the model heart patient and probably has a healthier heart than me at this point.

Anyway, it was a good time and I'm so glad Mom was there for it. Now if only we can get Dad out here for TARCON7.

Wednesday I called in sick and was hungover and tired most of the day. So I napped and Mom putzed and we watched TV and were a little sluglike. Though I think Mom went out for a walk at one point.

Thursday I took mom to see a dance performance of the company that Muppet works with. Parts of it were interesting, but I did not love it. I've seen this company do stuff with flour that I liked and I didn't like the flour so much in this one. And I didn't love the pacing either. But two of the dancers spent half their time tied together at the hair and parts of their dance I really found interesting. Mom did not hate it, but said she wouldn't see it again. And there you have my lovely review. Why am I not a dance critic? I do not understand.

Friday was home in the comfy pants eating risotto and mozzarella sandwiches. Awesome time. Though when I made Mom watch The Road to Stardom with Missy Elliot (awesome show) she did a rap that still kinda gives me nightmares.

Saturday I had to go to a Board Meeting of Doom at Wesleyan. Mom opted to stay home. I was bummed as I wanted more time to hang with her. But I think she made the right choice. We got the car an hour and a half late as they didn't have one for us at time. Then we ran into a fuel spill and Steph had to do some mad creative driving which involved exiting an on ramp. But it all worked out and we made it in time for the meeting. Barely.

The meeting was okay and we had some fun times catching up with people. And Charlotte, Muffy & Steph are lovely folks to have around for a roadtrip. But Mom would've been bored for most of the day.

Saturday night was Ocean's 11 and Thai Food at Muffy & Steph's. Though first Mom had us watch the video from her Norway trip, kind of against my will. I am a shitty daughter. The video was okay, but I think I liked the way the photos turned out better. I got more of a sense of the pretty in the photos than in the video. Though I guess we saw more of the ship in the video. Anyway, Muffy liked that and Mom was glad I got to see it. And then I was allowed to drool over Brad Pitt for a couple of hours and all was right with the world.

Sunday I sent Mom packing and then spent the day napping like a slug.

This is how the girls in my family party. I know you're jealous. Our rock star lives.

The Music always gets me

A couple of weeks ago I went to a Memorial Service. It was for a coworker's sister. I never knew her and the coworker and I aren't very close. But he's a nice guy and we talk often for work. We got an email notice about the service and Sheena, Lovey and I figured we should go. To give support and pay our respects. It's one of those things that takes hardly any effort or time and seems so meaningful. So, we went.

I've been blessed as I haven't been to many memorial services or funerals in my life. I just haven't lost that many people. Which is good. Because living is better than dying. But it's also good, as I don't do such events well. I get too emotional, I think. I feel like I should have better control of myself. And that I should be more supportive and attentive. It seems like a time to gather to support each other and remember the person you all just lost. But mostly I just cry and wish for the person back. Which I can easily do in my room without bothering anyone else.

I thought I could handle this recent service as I was not so closely touched by this person. I was barely touched at all by her. I just knew her brother and heard about her from him after her death. And I did fine at the service, really. But it affected me more than I thought it would.

The speeches were nice, the service was lovely. And it was both sad and heartening. I'd recently learned how much she meant to her brother. And it seemed like she was an amazing person. So it was hard to think about how all of these people were now mourning her. But there was definitely a sense throughout that she touched a lot of lives and did a lot of wonderful things and that most of these people were better for having her be a part of them. It was so good to feel that.

But then the music made it personal. Lovey was sitting/standing next to me and lent her lovely voice to the hymns. And made them so much more than the dirge like tunes I remembered from my time in the Presbyterian Church. And it made me smile and made me a little emotional to hear her. But mostly the music filled me with memories. And made me long for my family and my grandparents. I remembered sitting in Church with my grandfather. Singing hymns with the family. I remembered songs my grandmother would sing to me. And I remembered all their memorial services. And I cried. Like I try so hard not to do.

Initially I was angry with myself. For making someone else's service about me. But then I realized that was silly. It's all part of the same thing. I was mourning my loved ones again and at the same time learning about someone else and at the same time supporting and feeling for a really nice person I am lucky enough to know. And doing all that together is a fine thing. And so I went with it.

At one point they played a song. I'm not sure which one. A piece by Handel I think. And it made me think of my mother and just broke my heart a little. And I'm not really sure why. It reminded me of a part of a book I like by an author I love. Towards the end of the book a grandmother spends some time each day playing with her young grandson. They don't do much. Just the kind of playtime you have with babies. But she would play music during their time together. Particularly one piece. And not too long after these play dates start, the grandmother dies. And the grandson grows up never really knowing her. Later, at the end of the book, he's at an event of some kind. A service or wedding or something. And that one particular song plays. And he just starts crying. He just feels something in him and he cries because of it. And I loved that. The idea that he did somehow know his grandmother, not in any conscious way. But somehow he was connected to her.

I like to think of connections like that. I can't describe them, even to myself. But I can feel them. And I like that they're there. I like that I can see things or hear things or sense things and for no explicable reason I suddenly think of someone I love. Or feel something emotional and strong and alive. And I like that Music does that for me more than anything else.

Mac & Cheese Nation

In the cafeteria at my office building we have all kinds of little stations. The Grill. The Smokehouse. The Mexican* station. The Indian* station. Sandwiches, pizza, stir fry and so on. We also have The International Table. And on Wednesdays the International Table is the Global Vegetarian Table. But today is Tuesday so that fact is not important. Just know that my office building's cafeteria is odd.

Anyway, the International Table has four steam tables (go Sterno!) and a little space for some cold dishes. Each day they pick a nation (or just some food group based loosely on geography) and that's the theme for the food at the International Table that day. Italian, Chinese and "Southern" are frequent nations. As is "Comfort Food" and "Wing Bar". I don't want to know what the Wing Bar Nation is, but I could totally get behind a Mac & Cheese Nation. Though I can't even imagine what the size of my behind would be were I to live in that Nation.

The point of all of this is that today was Hawaii Nation Day. Any of you who went to college with me and managed to visit the campus center on Hawaiian Pizza day might know what's coming. Because there is really nothing Hawai'ian about pizza with Canadian Bacon and pineapple on it. Maybe I could buy it with Spam and Li Hing Mui, but, whatever. It's just stupid and annoying and I would bitch loudly when confronted with it at the campus center. (Yeah, I know, I lived in Hawai'i for about two years and am no local nor expert but I don't care. It still annoys me. And this is my blog.)

So, today's International Table of Hawaii had candied yams. Which I had a lot more of in Louisiana, North Carolina and Indiana than in Hawai'i. Also present was baked Hawaiian Fish. Yes, Hawaiian Fish. I do not know what that means. Maybe they found some Humuhumu nukunuku apua'a (unofficial state fish - and does Hawai'i really have a state marine mammal or is the internet lying to me again?) and baked that up with coconut sauce. I do not know. It made me snort derisively. As did the eggplant with ginger (which really looked like their basic overbaked eggplant dish). Again, I don't know. It was all just silly. As most of the International Bar is. They did have Mango Chutney. I do see lots of Mango Chutney when I'm back in Honolulu. So that was nice. But still... it was silly. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this little peek into my madness. Because it's not like anything else is going on in the world that I might want to get upset about. Really. A nice Hawaii Nation International Bar of macaroni salad, kim chee, spam musubi, mochi and two scoop rice would totally make me forget about the painful war in Iraq, the madman running our country, the ongoing attack on my vagina and the rights I have to it (with it?), the state of our educational system, the devastation of tidal waves and so on. Well, maybe not. But I guess it would mean I could focus on those things and spend more time being useful and less time whining about my office cafeteria.

I am so shallow and useless. I'm going to read more about shoes now. I bet there's no war in Mac & Cheese Nation.


*Yes, sometimes they do have Indian and Mexican at the International Table even though those nations have a permanent station in our cafeteria.