In the immortal words of CuteOverload, soooooo tie-tie. But I have a paper due Thursday, so I have to push on. Bed is going to be looking goooood Sunday night (I have shit to do each night til then, so that’s the first night I’m expecting to be able to go to bed early). Crap – and I just realized my parents are coming down Wednesday to go over invitations, so I have to write my paper all tonight. Bleah.
So, this past weekend was pretty cool. Uh, I can’t seem to remember what we did Friday night, though. It’ll come to me, eventually. Saturday, I got to go to a cookout (yum!) for Greg’s work, and then I got to go to my “bridal tea party” at the O’Henry in Greensboro, where I enjoyed myself immensely and drank way too much tea. And Sunday we went to a friend’s wedding and reception, and that was fun.
Oh, and when I left the cookout Saturday (heading to Greensboro for the tea party), I got to see a vulture-y-looking bird on the side of the road, sitting on a dead deer and eating its eyeballs out. Nice.
Some kind soul left this in the comments (and by the way, thanks so much for the awesome article – right up my alley!): Knitters save endangered penguins’ lives – by knitting sweaters for them! Too cool! And then I went looking for pictures, and Cute Overload came through like a champ. Too cute!
Michael tagged me a while ago to do the States Visited Map & Confessional. I didn’t get around to it because I’m pretty sure at this point I’ve been to all the contiguous states, but don’t have specific memories at hand. I did ask my dad to help me remember what we did in the various states (we traveled ALOT when I was younger, and before my parents divorced), but he was a big fat no help. I don’t think any of my parents read this thing, but that’s the truth, Dad, you still haven’t gotten back to me about that. So thbpppt! If I can ever get my old travel diaries away from whichever parent has them, I’ll update this with all the silly shit I wrote down when I was like six to fourteen and travelling. (They made us keep travel diaries. It was a way to keep us occupied on long drives, and now we have “something to look back on” – if we ever find the damn things.) Anyway, here’s my map and memories:
create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.
Alabama – We pretty much always travelled through Alabama on the way to California (yes, we drove) – and all I remember is being largely unimpressed with Alabama and wanting to get into Mississippi.
Arizona – We went to Old Tucson and mucked about for a bit, and then went to the Sonora Desert Museum – intending to return to Old Tucson in time for their “afternoon hanging” (some sort of reenactment, you know). And that goddamn not-playing-along-with-Daylight’s-Savings got us: when we went back to Old Tucson, we’d missed the hanging by an hour, and it was the only hanging that day, and we were continuing on (towards Cali) the next day. I’m still grumpy about that shit. I also got a tshirt from the Sonora Desert Museum that was one of my favorite shirts for the next eight years or so. I wonder where it is now.
California – I think I’ve been there four times? Five times? And all those times we drove – took off like a whole month in the summer: a week out, two weeks in Cali, a week back. I went to my first Farmer’s Market there, and saw a cute boy. Who I then also saw at Universal Studios and a random Sizzler’s. I was convinced it was fate – because I was a dumb twelve year old. I especially liked the weird houses, like the Witch’s House, 516 Walden Dr, Beverly Hills. That’s my favorite one, right there. And on one trip we also went to Forrest Ackerman’s house and took a tour – he made a weak pun about a “toy yoda/Toyota,” and something in his garage scared the bejesus out of me. It was awesome. Oh, and also? I had the biggest crush on Julian Sands for a couple years, and on one trip to California, I got to see his house.
Colorado – I remember we drove through the Rockies, and we had a fucking Airstream, and I was terrified that we’d either drive off a cliff or the Airstream would jackknife going around a hairpin corner. The scenery was beautiful, but I hated every minute of it.
Connecticut – No really firm memories from here, other than being ridiculously, stupidly amused by pronouncing that middle “c” every chance I got.
DC – We drove past the Einstein Memorial in DC (while on the way up through Maine to Canada), and for some reason I felt compelled to say, “Hey, dude” to the Einstein Memorial. My family still remembers this and thinks it’s hilarious.
Florida – Oh. My. God. We went to Florida twice a year (Christmas and summer holidays) EVERY YEAR, for like EVER. And we always stayed in Traveler’s Rest. Nice to see they still exist. And, you know Florida, it was ALL old people. And me and Susan (and later, Sarah) were young. We still managed to have fun though. And we went to Disneyworld just about every trip. I have a deep and abiding love for the old (and now non-existent) Epcot ride, Journey into Imagination, and it’s mascot, Figment (the Dragon).
Georgia – I remember two things from Georgia, more than anything else. 1-We would ALWAYS stop for the night in Georgia, on the way back from Florida, and I fucking hated it. I always wanted to keep driving – it’s just a thirteen-hour trip. I couldn’t wait until I turned sixteen and could then take over from my parents so we wouldn’t have to stop in Georgia. Once a trip was over, I pretty much wanted to get the hell home immediately. Spending that night in Georgia killed me, every time. 2-Fucking Okefenokee Swamp. There was this HUGE observation tower, with two observation decks (one higher than the other). The climb up to the first deck was pretty cool. The climb up to the other deck was on OPEN STAIRS, people, and I had what I now recognize as one of my first panic attacks about halfway up to the top observation deck. I stopped in the middle and pretty much refused to budge, and started panicking and crying, and wanted desperately to be off the stairs but didn’t want to go up or down as I was terrified of falling over the rails or slipping under the rails, or tripping and falling between the steps. And of course when I got up to the observation deck, I had to stand in the middle of it and not look out over the swamp, since I am terrified of heights. The climb back down was just as bad. Ugh.
Idaho – I think we went through Idaho on a trip to Vancouver. Anyway, I remember wondering where all the potatoes were, or where all the potato farms were. And I remember finding “Boise” really funny, for some reason I can’t recall now that I’m not ten.
Kansas – I remember Kansas because shortly before the trip that took us through Kansas (to Vancouver, I think), I had been the narrator for the school’s production of Wizard of Oz. Kansas is really, really flat, y’all.
Kentucky – I liked Kentucky because as a kid I loved horses, and I saw alot of them in Kentucky.
Louisiana – On one trip we drove through New Orleans – and I mean just that: we drove right through it, without getting out. I was so pissed, but my parents didn’t want to stop. (It wasn’t even Mardi Gras or anything.) Oh, but they’d stop in the miles and miles and miles and miles of bayou country we traveled through. I did see some alligators (or do I mean crocodiles, I can’t remember) in the rivers and creeks by the side of the road. That was cool. Oh, we also had this “game” where we’d look for egrets and…was it storks? The “winner” was whoever noticed the non-egret bird, because it was rarer to see. We saw egrets all the damn time. Anyway, so seeing alligators for a change was awesome. And a little scary, since there were so many of them, and they were just chilling right there. Like, we could’ve pulled over, gotten out, walked down to the water, and touched them. And that was a big deal to me, when I was ten.
Maine – I guess I was about twelve or so when we went through Maine on the way to Canada. My mom had this lap loom I had just started weaving with, and I remember getting some rough, dark purple wool yarn in a yarn shop in Maine to make a scarf with. The color was called something weird and Maine-ish like Pequonset or something.
Alright. I’m tired of remembering and typing. I’ll finish this soon.
Book Meme!
1. Copy & paste.
2. Bold the ones you’ve read.
3. Add four recent reads to the end.
4. Tag!
The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
The Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy – Douglas Adams
The Great Gatsby – F.Scott Fitzgerald
To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
The Time Traveler’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter 6) – J.K. Rowling
Life of Pi – Yann Martel
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story – George Orwell
Catch-22 – Joseph Heller
The Hobbit – J. R. R. Tolkien
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
Lord of the Flies – William Golding
Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
1984 – George Orwell
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3) – J.K. Rowling
One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Book 4) – J.K. Rowling
The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter 5) – J.K. Rowling
Slaughterhouse 5 – Kurt Vonnegut
Angels and Demons – Dan Brown
Fight Club – Chuck Palahniuk
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Book 1) – J.K. Rowling
Neuromancer – William Gibson
Cryptonomicon – Neal Stephenson
The Secret History – Donna Tartt
A Clockwork Orange – Anthony Burgess
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Book 2) – J.K. Rowling
Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
American Gods – Neil Gaiman
Ender’s Game (The Ender Saga) – Orson Scott Card
Snow Crash – Neal Stephenson
A Prayer for Owen Meany – John Irving
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis
Middlesex – Jeffrey Eugenides
Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
The Lord of the Rings – J. R. R. Tolkien
Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
Good Omens – Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman
Atonement – Ian McEwan
The Shadow Of The Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Old Man and the Sea – Ernest Hemingway
The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
Dune – Frank Herbert
The Unberable Lightness of Being – Milan Kundera
Hey Nostradamus! – Douglas Coupland
The Nature of Blood – Caryl Phillips
Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules – Ed. David Sedaris
The Last Continent – Terry Pratchett
The Book of Skulls – Robert Silverberg
The Beekeeper’s Apprentice – Laurie R. King
Persepolis 2 – Marjane Satrapi
Okay, my sisters are the funniest. Especially Susan. So I have to share this with you. (And if it doesn’t crack your shit up, too fucking bad.) I told Susan to go check out the piglets up today at Cute Overload. (Holy shit, aren’t they cute?) And this is what Susan had to say:
“oh my god, I am in love. LOVE. why did I marry mike when I could have piglets? I bet they don’t lament Toronto not making the playoffs for weeks at a stretch and they probably don’t whine when I don’t make spaghetti the right way. lord oh lord, I could be so fulfilled right now if only I had piglets and not husband! geez…think hard about June 6, my dear. Think Hard.”
Bwah!
And also – yay for piglets!
Yesterday evening was much better. Greg treated me to lasagne, Boone’s Farm, and Strange Brew (which I hadn’t seen before, and it’s hilarious). Julie came over to watch Lost, and brought two little gifties from Florida. And I bleached and dyed my hair, and it didn’t all fall out. It’s actually a rather nice shade somewhere between red and pink. Greg says it’s red, but I say it depends on the lighting. (The only downside is I tried a second application of bleach to help the Manic Panic “take” – and even though I mixed both batches up weak, and the first go was 20 minutes and the second 3 – I scorched my scalp. So there are some tiny blistery places. They’re not visible, and they’re not like constantly actively hurting, but I know they’re there.)
Today blows goats, and it’s like the whole universe is conspiring against me. Somebody shoot me already. I’m going to take a nap and then have some tea, and see if the universe can stop being such an asshole by the time I finish my tea.
I remembered what else I meant to post about: Lost. Last night’s episode was a little rougher to watch than I expected, primarily because of the nature of Hurley’s issues. I’m pretty well spoiled when it comes to Lost, so I knew about Dave and his non-existence. I didn’t know about the bit at the end, where Dave is telling Hurley the whole island is in Hurley’s imagination; and when Hurley says, “I’m not crazy…I’m not crazy.” after charging Sawyer really hit a nerve. I’ve never had a conversation with someone who wasn’t there, but I have seen people and things who weren’t actually there while panicking. Once, I had a panic attack in Greg’s bedroom (before we lived together), and his whole room was replaced by Sarah’s nursery from when she was about two. I had been standing next to Greg’s desk, but then all of a sudden I was in Sarah’s nursery – that’s what I saw, and I was scared to move because I remembered being in Greg’s room before, and I didn’t know what I’d step on or bump into or fall off of if I moved. And the worse the panic attack is, the worse my hallucinations and delusions get.
Anyway, having this sort of problem – where sometimes you know what you should be perceiving and it’s not what you are perceiving; or sometimes you don’t know what’s real or not, or even if *you’re* real or not – really kinda fucks with your ability to believe in reality even when you’re not panicking. Because what if you are, really? How do you know that you’re not just making all this up, and imagining/hallucinating/deluding yourself that you’re not panicking? I don’t really admit to myself, or deal with, how often in a day I have to check in with myself and my surroundings and make some sort of judgment call about what’s real. Like I’m constantly on the outlook for sketchy things (like when the floor starts moving up and down like waves in the ocean), any sort of sign that my eyes or my brain are lying to me, or that I’m panicking – and of course worrying about it like that occasionally *causes* a panic attack. Anyway, for me it’s not really a question of whether or not I’m crazy – I know I’m a bit dodgy on the whole reality front, so it’s more a question of “So, just *how* crazy am I?” and “Am I getting any crazier?” And these days, thanks to a couple years of therapy (in the past), my daily Lexapro and a very understanding and levelheaded fiance, I’m okay with the answers.
Anyway. In lighter news, we ordered our rings from E-WeddingBands Saturday, and they arrived today, and are just lovely. Mine fits perfectly – Greg’s still deciding about his, but thinks it’s slightly too big. Rings. Wow. And I can’t stop looking at mine – which part of me thinks is ridiculously stereotypical, and vain; and the rest of me is too busy admiring and squeeing.
Well, I’ve got a new season of The Ultimate Fighter to start watching.
There was something else I wanted to blog about, but I can’t remember it now. Oh well. I’ll just have to go directly into the cat penis thing. So, at lunch today, Greg tells me about how he told his groupmates (in class this morning) that cats have barbed penises. Apparently some dude was talking about getting a fishhook stuck in your finger, and the proper way of removing it – which Greg knew. And then Greg informed them that cat penises have barbs, sorta like fishhooks. I think he learned that from me. Anyway, on reflection, we realized that neither one of us had actually ever seen a cat penis, so we had no idea what these so-called barbs looked like. I figured it didn’t loop back on itself exactly like a fishhook does, but beyond that I knew nothing. Anyway, so of course then I had to fix that lack of knowledge, and thanks to Google, now I know. And I’ll just say that in my estimation it looks more like a cactus than a fishhook. And also: yowch. Anyway, if, like me, you’re too curious for your own good (and would rather not molest your own cat to find out), here is the picture.
