Swedish delights

The most thrilling news in ages came across NPR today: Charlotte is getting an IKEA!!! I'm so excited! I know some of you live near one already, but it's been years for me. I fondly recall my first visit to an IKEA back in Chicago as a preteen, though I was probably feeding a lot off my sister's excitement. Sigh, inexpensive design, how delightful. And a., you lucky thing, it's going in at City Boulevard and I-85!

Quite a View

Well, that was quick! I started "A Room with a View" last night and finished it just moments ago. What a great book! Thank you, sister dear, and I'm sorry I didn't appreciate it when I was 12. I didn't have the background for it, and was frankly probably too young. But now I am well steeped in Victorianism, have a mature understanding of love, and have seen "Manor House" and "1900 House". Seriously, those shows made me really able to picture what was going on :) So thank you, though I still don't see much "Anne."

This was a truly amusing read (I'm sorry if I use silly words, I mimic what I've been reading. Last night I called Brad "peevish."). The story is a straightforward narrative, but every once in a while Forster pops in to make sure you're reading everything properly. Big chunks of story, a rambly paragraph of philosophy, more story, a quick first person aside to clear up something he was trying to do with words, more story ... . I thought he characterized Lucy really well, brought her out with great dialog and thoughts and description without just telling you. And it was great fun reading an Edwardian picking on Victorians, while as Brad pointed out "There's nothing different about them except for a monarch."

Interestingly, the only other Forster I've read was "A Passage to India," which is not at all light or funny. "View" was published in 1908, "India" in the 20s; modernism definitely separates them.

So very, very good. Shana, you'd probably like it. Maybe a., too. Even Smitty.

And thus ends my 2006 reading. What's in store for 2007? I think I'll decide tomorrow.

My secret identity

Was a great show. I though Jerry O'Connell was hot.

Anyway. For the past month or so, I've been writing another blog. Nothing major, just a once-a-week deal for Charlotte Parent magazine. Naturally, I don't get paid, though it was hinted that maybe, possibly, someday this could happen -- when the pigs are all done flying. But it's got me writing more, which is a good thing, and it lets me air out my mommy thoughts without burdening the non-parents I know. Sadly, it's not in real blog format, which is why I was so hesitant to share and may not be able to use it professionally later, but for now, it's interesting.

Reading rewind

Ages ago, my sister gave me "A Room with a View" by E.M. Forster. Perhaps because she called it a more grown up Anne of Green Gables, which I didn't see, I didn't really get into it at the time. I was probably 16. When I went to college, I really enjoyed "A Passage to India," so I got to thinking the first Forster deserved another chance. So that's what's up next, probably once the holiday insanity slows down.

I must say, I'm looking forward to it, if for no other reason than the chapter titles. I don't recall Forster being particularly zany, but the table on contents is great! Chapter 3 is "Music, Violets, and the Letter 'S'" while chapter four is brilliantly "Fourth Chapter." But chapter 6 has them all beat: "The Reverend Arthur Beebe, the Reverend Cuthbert Eager, Mr. Emerson, Mr. George Emerson, Miss Eleanor Lavish, Miss Charlotte Bartlett, and Miss Lucy Honeychurch Drive Out in Carriages to See a View; Italians Drive Them." That's GREAT! And then comes chapter 7, simply "They Return." This should be good.

And this morning, I got to thinking about other things I should add to my to-read list, and for some reason I'm now convinced I need to read "The Inferno." Ah, nothing like a little Dante for some light escapism! And of course, after that I must do "Paradise Lost," which I managed to essentially escape as an undergrad. I had a modern poetry class just after the Milton class, and the scribble on the chalkboard always made me so very glad I wasn't in the Milton class. But I feel it's something I should read, especially since the majority of our ideas about heaven and hell and all that come from these two works and not the actual Bible. What fun.

Eye on society

Well, after all the excitement about the big society wedding this past weekend, I sadly must announce I did not get to do quite as much people-watching as I'd hoped.

For one, I could barely see. Those who know me well may not be surprised by this, but I managed to inflict bodily harm upon myself the morning of the wedding -- specifically, I jammed my mascara brush into my eye and scratched it. I've never done that before, and it HURTS! I couldn't look to the right and, as my loving husband put it, I looked like I had pink eye. Or perhaps like I'd been slugged, once it all started swelling up from rubbing it. I was all right as long as I kept drops in it and remembered to turn my head to look at something rather than just my eyes, but that's hard to do. So mainly, I had really good conversations with whoever was on my left.

But of course, it was still a lovely affair. It was held in a beautiful 18th century church, which was all done up for Christmas, and we were lucky enough to be seated near the front. My friend, The Groom, looked very happy, complete with his trademark bouncy walk, and The Bride was adorably excited. There were lots of Scottish touches throughout, including a piper leading her down the aisle.

The reception was most interesting. At first I was surprised it wasn't a sit-down -- until I realized, you know, you really can't prepare seating for 500 and keep them in the same building! All seven layers of the wedding cake disappeared. The reception was set up as a mingling event, which sadly I was not exactly in the mood for, but the food and drinks were great -- I missed the pomegranate martinis, but I did get a fried green tomato and some fabulous sweet potatoes -- and Brad valiantly did his part mingling, meeting some really interesting, well-connected people. A top state politician's husband, a college president, other people who could obviously bank roll us 100 times over. And he found them all very approachable and genuinely nice to talk to. I just stayed with my college friends, so I wouldn't have to explain my eye, though they still asked me how I was doing every 15 minutes. I really wanted to talk about something else! -- but all I could think about was not looking to the right. But I did manage to meet and like the newest girlfriend in the group and generally catch up with with folks, who look surprisingly nice all cleaned up! :)

So no major shoulder-rubbing and no stunning pictures of Ayzair in her cocktail dress, but a nice time was had by all.

And my eye is now fine, or at least just slightly puffy and blood-shot.

Jesus is full of hot air!

I wonder how much crazy hate mail I'll get from that title ...

Of course, I do not mean that literally. Or rather, I intend it literally about the alarming inflatable, illuminated nativity that popped up on one lawn here in town. Now, I find the whole inflatable trend pretty idiotic -- geez, and we complain about energy prices?!?! -- but a three-times larger than life glowing holy family? Come on, people! Thankfully, baby Jesus wasn't in a snow globe, but I still find it incredibly tacky and just a wee bit too irreverent.

Although it provided much humor on an extremely windy evening last week as the whole stable whipped about in a frenzy, nearly crashing into the nearby inflatable snowman and Santa.

But seriously, people. Leave the all-out stuff to official town decorations. I plan to take Abigail to McAdenville, and that will be loads of wonderful tackiness, but we don't need it on your average residential street!

Of course, I've always been biased toward white lights of the non-blinking variety. And I'm not totally against manger scenes in the front yard; someone in my mom's neighborhood had a lovely white, cut-out silhouette of the inspiring scene, gently lit and only about 3 feet tall. There are better ways to spread the spirit of the season!

I need an empire waist dress

How on earth can I not like this one? Thanks, Shana! Though I do have to dig out my Austen to remember exactly who Jane was ...

(Later: Damn, this is annoying! I've read the book, I loved the book. Who the hell was Jane?! I think I'm all confused with "Sense and Sensibility" ...)

You scored as Jane Bennet. As someone who would rather see the good in people, Jane is a true pacifist and caregiver. At times, her shy temperament and naive outlook of people can land her in a compliant position, but those who know her love her for her positive spirit and cheerful view of what surrounds her. Jane Bennet 59% Elinor Dashwood 50% Elizabeth Bennet 41% Emma Woodhouse 41% Marianne Dashwood 31% Charlotte Lucas 19% Lady Catherine 9% Which Jane Austen Character are You? (For Females) Long Quiz!!! created with QuizFarm.com

Blatant ads on parade

It was Christmas parade time again here in my small town, and still being a bandie at heart, I can't let this one pass by without sharing. (Ha, ha, did you catch that pun? I'm so clever.)

As last year, the parade was quite the sight to behold. It lasted for at least an hour, though this year we parked ourselves at the start and weren't out too much past bedtime. The high school bands were good, though one was AWOL; the Shriner cars smelly; and the floats heartfelt -- though nothing like we used to make for homecoming and rather obviously intended primarily as advertising for the sponsor. You can vicariously share in the festivities here. And of course, there were several highlights:

1. Out right in front of the Rock Hill High dance team, dancing gaily with a giant candy cane and leaping daintily from tiptoe to tiptoe, a 6-foot, 250-pound black boy. Now that takes guts!
2. In a similar vein, there was a very tall, very slim male flautist for the big Christian school, whose band was certainly making a joyful noise, though I'm not sure it qualified as music. The boy's build certainly fit the instrument.
3. The Winthrop University cheerleaders were out in uniform. Of course, cheerleader uniforms don't exactly offer much against the chill, so these girls were essentially in a giant plexiglass aquarium on a truck bed. Perhaps entitled "Spirit under Glass."
4. The amusing appearance of lighted dump trucks sponsored by the Christian radio station.
5. Very enthusiastic, very elderly Shriners singing "My Favorite Things" from "The Sound of Music."

And finally, 6. The Hospice float. Yet again, the most cheerful, energetic group in the parade. I guess it really is a good way to go.

A pox on money grubbers!

I must say a hearty BAH HUMBUG! to the jerks who buy out all the hot Christmas toys and the jack up the prices on eBay. I just now realized that the digital camera we were wanting to get Abigail is one of these hot toys. And of course, I can't just buy it somewhere. So rather than $55 from a retailer, the cheapest I've seen is at least $80 plus shipping. Grrr. And there are probably thousands of the damn things on eBay, with at least a dozen parents battling it out per camera. I don't enjoy spending my time pouring over store ads and I certainly don't get up before the crack of dawn on Black Friday. I should be able to buy my Christmas presents in December from a store. BAH!

Hot lead

Finally saw "All The President's Men" -- now THAT'S a journalism movie!!! Hell yeah, makes me want to go back to the night shift!! Well, maybe not that. But yeah! Go journalists! Go people bringing down the crooked government! Go young cub reporters getting the trust of the publisher! Go people doing all kinds of shady, twisted questioning to get the truth! Yeehaw!

There was so much clacking of typewriter keys in that movie that my fingers are twitching to move. How great. I absolutely adored the scene right toward the end when Woodward goes to Bernstein's house to tell him Deep Throat told him everything -- and that their lives were in danger and they were being bugged. Woodward (a quite nice looking young Robert Redford, now I understand the hype) cranks up Bernstein's stereo to blast trumpet-laden classical music, then goes to the typewriter, unwilling to speak. He types, Bernstein types, the clacking of keys and the booming of brass, and the power of that cinematography is fabulous.

And the age of the film was fabulous. Bernstein smoking everywhere, rotary phones, an ancient Xerox machine, all the manual typewriters that didn't even do automatic return at the end of a line. And the decor at the Post: flourescent lights, tacky carpet, horrible desks and filing cabinets, whitewashed pillars -- all brand new in the 70s, and all somehow still the decor at my old paper ... Shana, it's like deja vu, only no swastikas in the ventilation screens.

And I love how you have absolutely no clue who Deep Throat was. Now I see how it was such a mystery.

Woo-hoo, so glad I saw that! So glad, also, that I didn't read the book. That cast of characters would have been mind-boggling and the various crimes confusing. But a great movie.

On the half shell

Does anyone know what "Oyster Attire" might mean in relation to a society wedding rehersal party? I tried to google it, but all that came up was a Michigan swingers site, and given the people this party is for, I really doubt that's applicable here ...

Otherwise, it's ridiculous how fascinated I am by this whole society wedding concept. Thanks to a., I have an appropriate cocktail dress, though my last dress that even came close was my prom dress. My rather self-righteous, formerly poor self absolutely can't wait for this people watching!

Buy war bonds

Does anyone remember learning "You're a Grand Old Flag" in preschool? I sure don't, but Abigail knows all the words, complete with a little chest thumping at "Every heart beats true for the red, white and blue ..." Really quite strange.

I really wasn't going to do this

I generally avoid politics here, since some of my dearest friends are of the opposite political persuasion, but since Rumsfeld just got replaced ...

Wheeeee! Join me in the partisan dance of glee! Now I'm just holding my breath for the senate.

Of course, now the Democrats have to actually accomplish a reasonable agenda, something I'm not holding my breath for. Sadly, politics is politics, though I do honestly believe it will be better for the country not to have one party in control of both branches. Plus I can celebrate that I will now be able to buy a glass of wine if I go out to dinner on a Sunday in my humble little town. Here's to progress!

Hardcore Backyard Wrestling

My brother-in-law may be a Dunce, but he has a knack for finding entertaining sites. Acronym Finder is a highly entertaining waste of time, where you can enter your initials and see all the corresponding abbreviations, initializations and acronyms. For me, my favorite was the title of this post, though my maiden name also came up with Hybrid Fluidized Bed. Not bad. I know my sister is just pleased there are other responses to her old initials other than the elementary school bully favorite, "Your initials backwards spell bra!"

Yours truly, Hartree Fock Bogoliubov

Ca, c'est bon

Brad found the most wonderful site last night. Frankly, there could be no better site for me: an artist obsessed with Paris and chocolate. Fellow chocoholics, enjoy.

Celtic notions

Has anyone ever noticed that the letter verification on Blogger often looks like Welsh? Just a thought ...

Anyway, we had a successful celebration of everyone's favorite Celtic holiday on Tuesday. That night was actually Abigail's third go-round with candy: Sunday at church, Monday at school, and Tuesday in the in-laws neighborhood. And surprisingly, not too much of a constant sugar buzz! Abbey was, of course, Ariel the Little Mermaid, which she is on a daily basis, but Halloween had the added treat of getting to spray her hair red. Too bad color never shows on dark hair! She got a decent haul, and I've managed to keep my candy raiding to a minimum. What she really loved, though, was giving out candy after we finished our rounds. She would say "Trick or treat!" to the children when she opened the door, and carefully doled out exactly one piece per child, saying things like "Aren't you beautfiul?" and "You'll like this flavor." My favorite, when she told two middle school girls, "You're trick-or-treating so well!"

I didn't see any amazing costumes this year, though we went home early in the night, but my favorite non-Abigail moment came from a group of middle school boys. They were obviously way too cool/self-conscious to actually dress up, but they still wanted the candy. I almost told Abigail not to give them anything! But then I felt bad for the third boy: After his friends got their candy and turned to leave, he came up, said, "Trick or treat," got his candy and then shoved a tract at Abigail, mumbling, "God loves you." Obviously the only way he could convince his parents to let him go trick-or-treating! At least he went to the trouble of putting on a hockey jersey ...

Have you no sense of decency, sir?

This past weekend, the husband and I decided to revive my stagnated NetFlix queue and watch "Good Night, And Good Luck." (Sad to say, the previous movie on my queue was a Spanish movie that sounded great but languished on my entertainment center for about two weeks and was finally returned unwatched.) The film we did watch was George Clooney's acclaimed take on Edward R. Murrow bringing down Joe McCarthy. I thought it would inspire all kinds of journalistic fervor in me, which I need a boost of, but sadly, it fell a bit short. I laud the CBS folks for standing up to McCarthy's Red Scare, and I found it appaling how people had bought into the hysteria of those show trials, but the movie didn't live up to its material. Why? It was slow. Really, really slow. The envelope said it was just 1 hr. 33 mins., but man, it felt a lot longer. Probably even more so for the reformed smoker Brad since every character lit up like a chimney in every scene. They were trying all kinds of dramatic angles and lighting and so forth, but they left the drama out of the plot.

It was, of course, interesting for its historical matter. And for how what were no doubt Murrow's exact words were so applicable for our current administration's tactics. And it was fun seeing the film clip of McCarthy's censure, which I otherwise only knew from R.E.M.'s song "Exhuming McCarthy."

After a period movie that's supposed to arrive today, the next film on my queue happens to be "All the President's Men." Yet another aspect of journalistic history that I lack any real knowledge of. Sadly, I owned this book but hadn't gotten around to reading it before Mark Felt outed himself as Deep Throat. Kinda takes the thrill out of reading it, so I'm opting for the visual version. Hopefully this will stir me up a bit more.

Me, me, me, me

Well, now this is absolutely lovely and totally self-centered! :)

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 3,533 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

And, hey, mom! There are only four of you. Even better, just one with your maiden name! Just 13 of me pre-marriage. And just 42 for Abbey (lots more for Abigail).

Clearing my throat

Just a little something to let you know I'm alive. Brad's been on the computer non-stop lately, though hopefully I can ship him back to the office Monday and reclaim some screen time!

Two my-child-is-cuter-than-your-child stories: This morning at breakfast, Abigail held her arms out in front of her like she was hugging something. "Do you know what I'm hugging?" "The air?" "No, I'm hugging God!" she replied laughing. How great. And then a couple of days ago, she decided she was going to read the bedtime stories to me. So I was treated to two almost perfectly remembered books. I was so proud!

I'll take waiting game for $1000

I have returned triumphant from my audition for Jeopardy!

Not that this means I know if I made it on the show, of course. All I know is they won't tell me how I did on the test, I may or may not be in the contestant pool for the next year, and the only way I'll ever know is if I get a call a couple weeks in advance of when they'd want me on the show. All right, thanks for all the clear-cut decisiveness!

I do think I did fairly well. I know for sure I missed 5 out of 50 questions on the test, but I got the feeling people around me were stumped by more than that. I aced the use of the buzzer during the mock test, though I was clueless on a few questions and guessed wrong on a couple more. I did get several right, however, and I made them laugh during my mini interview, so that's a good thing. Hopefully I'll get a call in the not-too-distant future and go on to win thousands of dollars!!! Or just forget about it and not be overly dissapointed.

It was certainly an interesting experience, though, especially seeing the types of people that would try out for a show like that. There were just a couple of truly hermity-looking, over-eager folks, including a woman who makes lace for a living. There were a couple of PhD students, including one in neurobiology, just so we all felt inferior. But there were also a few run-of-the-mill administrative types, a claims adjuster, a guy who worked for Habitat, and me, the mom. A surprisingly broad range of experiences, though I bet we all survived our share of gifted classes.

And hey, I got a free pen the size of the signalling button! Score!