Ponderosa of the Week

Two best text messages of the week:

"I kinda just want to get drunk, dress up like a fairy and throw glitter on people. But I want to do that pretty much every day." --Margarita, on Halloween plans.

"Yesterday I was called 'city boy' three separate times. I'm beginning to wonder if I smell like an appletini..." --Paul W, who happens to live in rural Wisconsin.

Friday night I lost my voice playing a karaoke game on Nate's PS3. That was really, really fun, especially since I kept winning. I like winning. And Cara and I dueling on "Total Eclipse of the Heart" as a finale was just...wow. Had problems talking Saturday but totally worth it.

This week I told someone they were a hermit and they told me they were going to choose to think I was referring to the type of cookie. New fact for the week: hermit is a type of cookie. Who knew.

Thanks to Nate for this Article on 5 Presidential Elections Dumber than this one. Anytime sarcasm, snarkiness, nerdy and American History combine I call it a good time.

Four weddings already lined up for summer 2009. Wow.

Jeff in IT

So while Hatch and I were in Paris we kept a keen eye on the possibility of a new friend. Ever watchful, the first morning in Paris we were on the jam-packed Metro on our way to the Arc de Triomphe (btw what is up with every hour of the day in Paris having totally packed Metros? Do these people work? Why do the cars look no different between "rush hour" and "hey shouldn't you be at work hour"?) when we spotted him. We were crammed like little le sardines in a tin Metro can when this guy got into our car and was standing in front of us, alone but for a copy of Rick Steves' Paris 2008. The North American version.
We said to ourselves, "NEW FRIEND!"
He also debarked at the Arc (as it is the terminus of the line, he really had nowhere else to go) and we sort of stalked him while we went about being tourists. We made up stories about him while we walked in the tunnel to the Arc. I decided his name was Jeff. And he worked in IT. Hatch decided his name was Michael and he was traveling the world to find himself. We both decided he was rather friendly and that we'd all get along quite swimmingly.
I admit, most of the time at the Arc de Triomphe I was completely distracted. I was interested in the Napeleon and the generals carved in stone, but the real story was WHERE WAS JEFF? We'd see him and then he'd be gone. He was like our own French Carmen Sandiego.
ANYWAY. We saw our chance at the Arc. Jeff was taking a photo of it and we meekly approached and asked in French if he spoke English (even if you know you have to pretend) and if he'd take a photo of us together. All a ruse to start a convo. Which we did. We spent the rest of the day, and part of the next day with our new friend.
Whose name happened to be Derek.
Who didn't work in IT, but is an epidemiologist specializing in TB.
From Canada.
My bad, Jeff.

My Old Dominion

Dear Nancy Pfotenhauer;
I am a native Virginian. I was born at home, the middle of five children and didn't live on a paved road until college. My father is a war veteran and my mother has worked as a school teacher. My high school was 800 students; the school district covered half a county and in that half we had a total of three stoplights. My brother, my sister and I would ride our bikes down our dusty little road the five miles to the closest town where we would stop at the general store to buy Cokes. The closest mall was an hour away.
This "All-American" life wasn't near Roanoke, Salem, Danville or Floyd; this was 40 miles from Washington, DC.
Northwest of there, in fact.
That would make it Northern Virginia.
And that was in 1992.
I am 27 years old.

I take great offense to your crass statement that the Northern part of my Commonwealth is any less Virginian than the rest of the state because it may have a more urbanized and diverse feel to parts of it or, as in your definition, it votes in a way you don't like. Virginia is simply a place not easily understood. We are the Mother of Presidents and yet the Capitol of the Confederacy. We have the D-Day Memorial and Arlington National Cemetery. We aren't the north but we really aren't the south; we are simply ourselves. Virginia is home to the writers of the Declaration of Independence, The Consititution, The Bill of Rights and the Marshall Plan. We have the oldest legislature in the western hemisphere and we are home to "The Silicon Valley of the East". We've two NASCAR tracks and the headquarters for the Washington Redskins. We are "America": past, present and future.
And Northern Virginia has, in the past ten years, survived a sniper randomly killing us as we go about our days, anthrax attacks and one of the planes from 9/11 departing from our airport only to slam into our Pentagon. We've watched the dot-com bubble grow and burst, we've watched one of our own commit the worst sort of crime at our Commonwealth's Virginia Tech. And we have survived and grown stronger because Virginia stood with us. We might squabble with other regions of our state but that keeps us together and makes us grow, just as it did our forefathers, as it does our families.
We are The Real Virginia. Just as Roanoke, Salem, Danville and Floyd are The Real Virginia.
And your short-sighted dig at us won't do anything to change that.
You went to George Mason, you ought to know better.

Sic Semer Tyrannis!

S. Spooner

Scary But True

I may have developed the keen ability to sleep dial. Not drunk dial, sleep dial. Like pick up my cell phone and call someone in my sleep. Cuz I did it. At 6:30 this morning. To my friend Seth. And I didn't know until I woke up to a text from him asking why I called.
Uh oh. This is not good.
It's not like he was even on my "recent calls" list, like my sleepy self had to actually LOOK HIM UP in my phonebook. He's not the first S, or even the first SE. I must have been intentional about this freaking call.
I mean I talk in my sleep, this I know. I talk in my sleep all the time, I burst out laughing, I have slept walked only once, but this....new level of creepy.
So if your phone rings and it's some ungodly hour and it's me calling then either something bad has happened or I'm sound asleep and I'm a jackass.

We are Young and Happy...

One story from Paris...
We didn't reserve a place to stay until we got there. I had looked at a few places (shout out, Rick Steves' Paris 2008) but we hadn't really considered where to sleep. After I met Hatcher at the train station, we sat outside eating bread with Swiss apricot jam and goat cheese while we tried to figure out what to do and where to sleep in a city where we didn't speak the language and we didn't know. No problem. We found a hostel in the Latin Quarter, called and got a reservation in a 4-bed room for that night. Where? The Young and Happy Hostel. We liked the name. That was a selling point for us.
It was on the other side of Paris, but once we got our rolling suitcases down all those steps and onto the packed Metro we were just happy to be together on an adventure. We got to our metro stop and then had no idea where we were and walked about 20 minutes out of the way to get there. Eh well. It was our version of "The Amazing Race".
Conclusion: Young and Happy? Well, here is the stairwell up to our third story room:

Three stories, about three feet wide and two American girls laughing so hard we had to stop periodically to catch our breath. What!? Why did I bring a rolling suitcase? Oh that's right, London. Gahh! But we were still young and still happy and very bruised and battered.

Why am I holding a rose, you ask? Good question. We stashed our stuff at the hostel and headed to the Eiffel Tower to see it all lit up and a-purdy and while we were walking along a darkened path a French Police Officer holding a semi-automatic weapon popped out of the dark and said loudly "Pardon Mademoiselles!" My first reaction was to throw my hands up in the air. Maybe I'm a paranoid American, but man with gun shouting at me means I surrender. Weird I know. Anyway, he walked up and handed us roses, smiled and walked away. We hid behind a bush to see if he'd give them to every passerby but no, it was just us.
Must have been because we were so young and happy.
Other notes about Young and Happy: first night we shared a room with Amit, an Israeli book editor, and Steven, a college student from Ohio. Good times. Second night we were moved to a larger room that we shared with Rosalita and Paco, two Spaniards living in the UK who were on holiday and a bunch of other people we didn't meet.
Also: Young and Happy: bonus points for really, really cheap beer.
The end.

Things I Think I Think

I love watching the Dallas Cowboys implode. Love it. There is very little in the sporting world that I relish more than the Cowboys failing. It's a sick sick pleasure.

The fall...lets talk about how great it is. The leaves, the crisp air, football, apples, haunted pub crawls, sweaters, oktoberfests, less leg shaving...yesss.

I still haven't posted photos from Paris and I plan to, but the internet at my house is virtually nonexistent so it takes more time than I've had recently.

Tomorrow is my first day off (by "off" I mean "without travel/to-dos") in about a month. This, this is needed. Sleep, laundry, bills, etc. PJs til 2pm, catch up on those Netflix rentals, loaf.

My dear dear friend Caroline got hitched this past weekend and I wasn't able to be there (too many weddings/travel in the past month to be able to afford to go, both monetarily and vacation-time wise) and I sulked most of Saturday thinking about missing it. Thanks to Murphy who kept me posted on the happenings. Her wedding is next...

I don't remember the last time I saw a movie in the theater. I really like movies in the theater too, just haven't heard of one I thought was worth it.

Moxy Fruvous did a song called "The Drinking Song" that somehow gets me every time. No specific reason, it just does.

Sarah Palin as a Spoonerism: Parah Salin. You just think on that.

I read Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates on my trip to Europe and though it was good it wasn't as catchy as Assassination Vacation, her previous work. Part of this I attribute to assassinations being more interesting than Puritans. I do have to respect their words though; their intentions are inspirational and full of hope. I recommend it if only for how she captures the words of Winthrop, Cotton, Williams and Hutchinson and their personal brands of rightness and crazy.

SNL on Saturday: I haven't considered that show reverent in years and then this fall I've actually been excited to see what they can produce. I credit Amy Poehler, Tina Fey and Seth Meyers for this. That Sarah Palin rap Amy did was astounding, especially since Amy is about 7 months pregnant and Sarah Palin was sitting there watching her pretend to cap a man in a moose outfit. Amazing.

London, Concentrated

So I'm back in Le States and the jetlag has not been as bad as I feared, and for this I owe my utmost gratitude to sleeping pills. Here's to you, drugs.

Paris was, as I previously mentioned, absolutely hilarious. If ever you have a chance to take a trip with Erin Hatcher, do it. I learned this several years ago on a trip to the beach (LOGTRUCK) with a brief stop at South of the Border and a stolen ashtray. The Paris trip overshadowed that beach trip like whoa. Amazing. I will post photos and stories soon! Also check out Hatcher's blog
But first, I was also in London. I realized I haven't mentioned that part. My dear and wonderful Elizabeth Kate, my friend from many an adventure, got married to the sweet sweet Brit Phil. Way to go for that duel citizenship, you two! He's obviously never seen you in roller skates...

I worked half a day and then drove the three hours to Atlanta, where I met up with Alana who drove me to the closest MARTA stop so I could ride it down to the airport. My flight was a red-eye and I landed at Gatwick around 8am London time (EST time: oh who knows I sure didn't). Customs was so quick I talked my way onto an earlier shuttle bus to Heathrow, though there was an accident on the M25 so it was all these little back roads around London. Once to Heathrow I called Liz from a payphone, hopped on a city bus to Uxbridge and 30 minutes later I was finally in Uxbridge! All in all it was about 18 hours of travel. Cool. I hadn't seen Liz in over a year and I must admit, I got straight up emotional seeing her again. ANYWAY this is rambling, some photos from the brief trip to London (not including any wedding photos because I want Liz and Phil to get back from the honeymoon first):

My first pint in London...I asked for an IPA and the girl at the bar just stared at me. You guys invented the IPA, how can you not know what it is? But I did get olives. Yumm.

Trying to be as quintessentially London as possible, I got Westminster Abbey, Big Ben and the London Eye in one photo. Condensed trip calls for condensed photos.

I liked to call this the Trogdor Cannon. It was near 10 Downing Street, Steph and I just sort of stumbled upon it and all I could think of was StrongBad's lesson on drawing dragons.

The night before the wedding the girls went out for some pints at the Swan and Bottle, which I kept calling the Swan and Trousers for some reason. Me, Liz, Steph and Sarah.
actual conversation:
Me: "Barkeep, what porters or stouts do you have on tap?"
Barkeep: "Umm we don't have any."
Me: "You are standing next to a Guinness tap. That is a stout."
Barkeep: "Oh. So you want a Guinness?"

The hardest part of the quick trip to London was seeing my best friend but not actually getting to see her, if that makes sense. I was so happy to be there for her big day, but it was almost a tease, like I can view her but not actually talk to her. Selfishly, I wanted my friend to myself for a little bit. I couldn't help wondering when I'll get to actually see her face again, and for that reason when she and Phil drove away from the reception I turned to Liz's new sister-in-law and cried.
Anyway, more photos/stories to come!

Paris (For Now)

Bonjour!
I'm in Paris, drinking Heinekens at the computers in our Hostel, singing "Runaround Sue" with Hatcher...all day I have been saying, "I am in Paris!?" and laughing. Spent the day with Hatch and Derek, our new Canadian friend that we decided was our friend on the metro and made it truth at the Arc de Triomphe. That's another story for another time! What a great guy, that Derek/Jeff/Michael! I will post photos of this fabulous trip soon enough, just know that London and Paris have brought life to a soul already stuffed to the gills with zest.
Some notes:
I have great friends. Seriously, How am I so lucky to have these people?
My friends also have great friends, I love my friends' friends.
Liz now has possibly the greatest sister-in-law ever in Jess, whom I want to be my sister-in-law.
After a wedding nothing is quite so soothing as champagne and a soaking footbath.
Escargo: pretty tasty.
I think there is an FAA regulation that any and all flights longer than 2 hours within and from/to the US must screen at least one episode of "Everybody Loves Reymond"
Alana: shout out for the ride in the monsoon to the MARTA stop. So necessary.
Viva!
Back to the states tomorrow!

What? Totally Productive.

Things I have Done Instead of Packing for Europe:

9 crossword puzzles
15 sudoku puzzles
checked every blog I can think of at least 3 times
Bourbon. Lose one day.
SNL political clips from the past 30 years
Baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from scratch
Explained Cuban Missile Crisis and Iran-Contra Affair to roommate
Sewed up some holes in shirts I wasn't planning to pack
Updated fantasy football teams
Facebook. And more Facebook.
Chatted with 15-year-old sister
20 minutes lost trying to find "Hail to the Redskins" as a ringtone
Made "Best of Dar Williams" playlist. Not for my iPod.
Packed up summer clothes then left them in a bin on my floor
Watched clips from season 1 of "The Sarah Silverman Show"
Actually spent time trying to remember Phil Collins songs besides "Sussudio", "Against All Odds" and "In The Air Tonight". I could remember one more: "Take Me Home"...that's it. And something about Billy not losing my number. I totally had "No Jacket Required" on tape when I was like, 7 and LOOOOVED it.

So now I really do have to pack. At least I did laundry yesterday. I hate packing. And traveling. But I sure do love my friends. Maybe I should make bagels...oh! YouTube!

Shout Outs

Monday Afternoon Shout Outs Go To:

Kelly and the SF girls for showing up in my town, drinking some good Belgian beers and one that was just atrocious that Kelly was tough enough to finish (first time I've ever sent a beer back....I feel like less of a woman) and all in all having a grand ol' time. Next time I'll go to SF.

Clinton Portis for posting ridiculous numbers against NFC East foes while on the road. I haven't been this excited about the Redskins since 1992.

Hatcher, Alana and Liz for helping me get this whole London/Paris trip together. Two days, suckas. Whoa. Can I just tell you, blogging public, how excited I am to fumble around Paris with Hatcher for two days!? I mean really. Best idea ever.

Bjork, for writing the genius that is "Venus As a Boy" because it was in my head when I woke up today and man, that makes for a good morning.

Robin, for enduring a 43 hour labor in pursuit of expunging Ruby from her innards. She succeeded with an assist from that trusty ol' C-Section and now I wish rest for the new mom and dad and a long blessed life for Ruby!

Rita, for being brave enough to embark on a journey with the ghosts of Past Lives, Present Hopes and Expectant Futures...and, most importantly, the sidekick that is Texas. Miss ya friend!

A Series of Sentences That Have Nothing To Do With Each Other

Yesterday morning I saw three hot air balloons floating in the cloudless blue above the just-starting-to-turn Smokies and I sighed and was in love.

When Tina Fey's Palin made fun of people playing drinking games with the VP debate I laughed because I was guilty of that.

I leave for London and Paris in three days and I am stressed about travel.

My father and stepmom came to AVL on Thursday night for dinner and didn't meet a single of my friends and it breaks my heart to have had them here without knowing it as I do.

My youngest sister turns 15 on Wednesday and I suddenly feel creaky and unbearably old.

I believe there is a timelessness to "Find the River" by R.E.M., the last cut on "Automatic for the People"

My summer shoe collection is much more extensive and feminine than my winter shoe collection.

I feel like all I do in conversations is tell stories, like all I am is just a bundle of stories...maybe I am and maybe that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

My friend Paul sent me the following text: "Do a search for 'ferret' & 'hat' under google images sometime. I won't tell you how the subject was broached initially." and I burst out laughing without even doing the search (which is very funny) because it was just so bizarre and typical.

I have been needing more time alone lately than normal, and I normally need a lot of alone time.

Why is it that blogger (which is owned by Google) doesn't recognize the word "google" and just started to recognize "blog"?
(mystery solved...capitalize Google and it's all well and good)

Lastly, this is what I look like when I do an impression of Seth, my dear friend (and a 260lb man)...now that I know what I look like when I'm thinking uber fat man, I'm a little creeped out.

There are 435 Members of the House

I believe in nerds.
I believe in the power of nerd-dom, the glory of geeks basking in their knowledge of the arcane.
And one of the most important places for nerds to show their stuff is politics. Politics should not be run by the cheerleader, the jock, the emo band kid. Politics should go to the smartest know-it-all in the room, the one who has the capacity to retain the information crucial to making a decision and the ability to stand behind that decision. Politics should not be a popularity contest, who seems to be the candidate most like your average American because your average American is a moronic jackass who can't tell you where New York City is on a map and doesn't know how many Representatives there are in Congress. Your average American has no business stepping up to bat with the leaders of the world.
Maybe I'm crazy and elitist but the person running my country shouldn't be someone I completely understand. They have to make decisions that effect the entire world; millions of peoples lives are in their hands. I don't really want that person to be someone I can relate to, I want them to be someone so much more intelligent and informed and calm than me that I probably wouldn't know what to talk to them about.
Which is precisely why I thought the VP debate last night was a joke. It was like watching LaBron James play a 10-year old in tether ball. Biden was hitting point after point around Palin's head and she was waiving her arms madly, pretending like she hit it. But she winked and was cute and used phrases like "Joe Six-Pack" and "Doggone it" and ergo she's an average American and she'll get votes. How in the world is she being taken seriously? She sounds like Bobby's mom from "Bobby's World". It's like Lois from "Family Guy" in a battle of wits against the brains of Kit, the Knight Rider car. This is ridiculous.

(I woke up this morning thinking about Sarah Vowell's 2002 essay "The Nerd Voice" from her book The Partly Cloudy Patriot and had to reread it later in the day. The book itself is highly recommended during an election year. Her new release, The Wordy Shipmates comes out on Tuesday)

Update on Thud

Thank you to everyone who offered prayers for my little nephew Thud. I got an email update from my sister, telling me that they went back to the doctor to make sure there wasn't anything injured and the only sign of any problem was minor bruising on his torso.

That's it. This is Thud (with one of his brothers, his sister and friend) the day after the fall:

It's not even as bad as my sister's toe, which is straight up broken.
This is a photo of the back of their house to give a perspective of how far he fell (top window to the deck):
This is the view from the window to the deck...and he broke NOTHING. He literally hit the deck. Astounding. I get the shakes just thinking about it.

Find Me Home

I love maps.
I am genetically bound to love maps; I come from a long line of hobbyist and professional mappers. As soon as I learned to read words I learned to read a map. I started as the navigator for family trips when I was probably 7 or 8. I just can't stop staring at maps. I used to have stationary made of old topo maps. I am that bad.
My grandfather is credited with being one of the inventors of the 3D relief (topographic) map during WWII; I have rather fond memories of the old foam models of much of SE Asia hanging on the walls in my grandparents' basement. Talking to him about maps was learning another way to communicate. I just love how much information can be translated through something so straightforward as a map, like it is a cartographic Rosetta Stone.
Just as I have an undying love of maps, I have an uninhibited disgust of GPS systems.
I think they are lazy, insulting, and encourage and even enable people to be more helpless. Learn to read a map, you moron. Learn the cardinal directions, figure out which way you are facing, and save yourself. Maps aren't getting their credit, shiny new GPS is taking away all of their thousands of years of thunder.
And with that I have a confession...I went to visit my father and stepmother on Monday night and was driving home yesterday and took a wrong turn. I had been looking at maps all day with my dad (to plan out their week) so I knew basically where I was, but I have a navigator program on my phone I've never used and thought this was the time to check it out. Yes, a GPS device.
I have become what I despise.
Observations:
(1) Creepy how my phone new exactly where I was. Very big brother.
(2) It was distracting having a screen to look at to tell me where to go; my eye was drawn to it repeatedly, thus I am too ADD to use such a program.
(3) There was something comforting about being able to tell my phone to find me a way home and it did. I felt a bit like a child crying "I wanna go home!"

I like having a map function but the GPS was a bit too much. I don't need that much hand holding. So there is my compromise I guess. I can save myself, just need a little nudging.