Judging from the notches I've carved in the wall, it's been exactly two years since Josh and I got married. :) There certainly have been some challenges, but in spite of the inevitable bumps we've run into, I love and respect him more every day. Marrying Josh was one of the best things I've ever done. Okay, enough cheese. I guess I'll have to keep him.
Made this fruit salad for a cook-out on Friday. It was so good, I made it for another cook-out on Saturday. It's simple: blend some mint and sugar in the food processor and throw it on top of some peaches, grapes, and cherries. The mint gives it a refreshing summery taste.
The creative juices, they's a-flowin' tonight. Mm. Yeah. One Van Helsing merchandising ploy I might actually buy into would be a Van Helsing opera. Heck, I'd even pay forty bucks for cheap seats at the opera to see it. Considering I can't bring myself to pay $5 to rent the video, the people trying to sell Van Helsing might want to look into it. They've tried everything else. Really, can you think of a better combination of spectacle, mythology, death, and a bad plot? It's made for opera.
I was wondering today why a certain group of words that includes "thunder", "awe", and "dumb" get to have all the fun hitting people. Isn't the probability of being struck by or into something else high enough that we could combine it with the word "struck" to form a new adjective? Really, I think I'm more likely to be struck by a car than by thunder, hence, "carstruck". I can envision it catching on immediately:
"What's wrong with your cat?"
"Oh, he's a little carstruck."
What about "danderstruck" for someone in a fit of sneezing? Or "bjorkstruck" for someone who has suddenly become a babbling fool? (There are other derivitaves, such as "gone bjork" or "a bjorking idiot".) "Cementstruck" and "beerstruck" have obvious applications, and they almost have homophones. Poets with writers block, congratulations. You have just found nirvana. Or perhaps you are--dare we say it?-- solvencystruck. The possibilities are endless.
Josh and I have spent a good portion of the evening doing logic puzzles from this great blog that posts a new puzzle every day. Okay, yes, we're kind of geeky for doing logic puzzles on a Friday night. But when y'all are drooling on your sleeves in the nursing home, we'll be sitting around proving Fermat's last theorem or something. Yeah. And we'll be doing it just for the fun of it. Again. Because we will have solved it already by then because... we're, um smart.
Um, time to go watch a movie. Bye.
I was excited to actually use what little Spanish I have left in my head at a Mexican restaurant recently when the woman taking the orders refused to speak English to my (Pakistani) friend who was in line in front of me. He speaks no Spanish, but blundered through with a few hints from me. When it was my turn, I blithely rattled off my order in Spanish, and she responded to everything I said in perfect English with a smug smile on her face. I was a bit confused, but chalked it up to my bad accent until she did the same to my other (Argentinian) friend who came after me. He speaks Spanish fluently. With an Argentinian accent, not American. So, what I want to know is, since when is Pakistan closer to Mexico than Argentina or the US?
My Pakistani friend now knows at least one phrase in Spanish: "No, no. Soy de Pakistan."
Here I've been listening to NPR all the time, when I could have been listening to Jazz Fiddle Wizard. All jazz violin, all day, every day, anytime I'm near a computer. My life is almost complete. Now all I need is Airport Express so Jazz Fiddle Wizard can work its magic on our stereo.
Or when the internet goes down in our apartment. I can't believe how dependent we are on the internet. Our access isn't working, and I have homework I need to do tonight. I don't even know what the assignment is. So, Josh and I are at a coffee shop down the street that has wireless access, sippin' java (in my case tea) and listening to a live jazz trio. Life is good. Maybe our internet access should go down more often. :)
Since we saw a sign on the freeway to the Reagan library announcing horrendous traffic delays, followed by a 3-hour wait for the shuttle up the hill to the library itself, and since my body would mutiny if I tried to get up at 5:30 after staying up until 2 or 3, I will have to be satisfied with paying my respects to the 40th president here on my blog.
To the first president I remember, a man who executed his office with a grace, a dignity, and a profound respect for humankind that characterized him in his public and private life. We say that to whom much is given, much will be expected in return, yet so few people with money, fame, or power even attempt to use it for the good of anyone but themselves. Even seemingly great acts are often committed by people only wishing to posture and to increase their own stature. There is often a great personal price to be paid for wholeheartedly pursuing what seems best for others, and the temptation is to garner the desserts of appearing to serve boldly without actually having the courage to push the best ideas through to fruition. Regardless of whether one feels that Reagan's policies were effective, it is only to his credit that what he did, he did with the attitude of a true public servant, with the interest of not only the American people, but of the people of the world in general, at heart.
I have heard many people from all points on the political spectrum eulogizing Reagan as someone who brought optimism back to politics and patriotism back to America. If he did so, it was at least in part because he demonstrated that an honest desire to do well by the American people can motivate a man who already has fame and fortune to work his way to the White House. After all, it is not really what a man does that makes him great, but the reason he does it.
There's a jazz club in Orange County that we frequent with some of my friends from work. They have excellent jazz combos every night of the week, and until now there was no cover, just a two-item minimum purchase per person. (No big deal since the food and drinks are great.) What better place to take your high school friend Laura, who happens to be in town on her birthday, right? That's what I thought, but I had my first misgivings when they sprung a $10 cover on us. That's right, $10 per person out of the blue. Their website said nothing about it. Then they seated us where we couldn't see. That's not such a big deal, except that when better seats were available, we had to close out our bill just to move to a different table. Then we had to wait almost 45 minutes before we were able to order the desserts we wanted. Now, these things are annoying, but nothing to get super upset about as long as there's good jazz to be heard. I started to get a bit peeved, though, when they carded Laura (after she'd already bought and consumed a drink at our *first* table), and not only refused to accept her New Mexico drivers license as ID, but peeled the hologram coating off the front just to prove it was fake, which it wasn't. Now no one will accept it, because it will look even more fake without the holograms on the front.
Maybe I'm over-sensitive, but that just seems rude. I can understand refusing to serve someone alcohol because you think she's underage. Restaurants have a responsibility to be cautious. But you don't go and destroy your customer's ID to prove it.
Then, after at least a half dozen people scrutinized Laura's drivers license, and after she finally did get her drink, she pointed out that none of the people who'd been staring at the birthdate on her ID for half an hour had noticed or commented that it was her birthday. Nice touch.
Don't go to this place. It's Steamers Jazz Club and Cafe in Fullerton.
Here I am, up late, doing homework that's due in 6 minutes. (It's done now, actually. I'm early.) Now, if only I could roll out of bed in the morning five minutes before work and go in wearing my pijamas.
I'm finally resigned. I am facing the facts head-on. Whenever I eat yogurt or food with wheat in it (especially bread), half an hour later I'm beset by an almost irresistable fatigue. I've always been sleepy after lunch, but I always thought it had more to do with eating and digesting in general until I tried the South Beach diet last year and found that the problem went away. I began to watch more carefully and noticed that it only came back when I ate food with wheat in it or yogurt. Over the last few months, I have been unable to resist the tastiness of bread, pasta, and yogurt, and I've slowly been working them back into my diet. The last few weeks I've been eating a LOT of them, because I was doing okay, and thought the whole thing might have been my imagination. But, lo and behold, I'm at the point again where the tiredness is hindering my ability to work. I had a little cup of yogurt for breakfast today, and it just about knocked me out.
So, wheat and yogurt only in moderation for me from now on. It's kind of sad, because that rules out some of my favorite foods, but what REALLY bothers me is wondering why they do that to me. Has anyone ever heard of someone who gets plenty of sleep at night feeling exhausted because of a little yogurt or bread? Am I just a freak? Comments?