Happy Friday

It's almost 5 o'clock on a gloomy Friday afternoon and I'm done. I had an assignment canceled on me today, and I'm not happy about it. I have a headache, because red wine and board games don't mix. It's still two hours to the big "Battlestar Galactica" series finale. And to top it all off, my motivation took off at 1:30 this afternoon for Spring Break someplace serene, leaving me here to try to accomplish actual work on my own.

So, instead of something productive, I give you Mahna Mahna. ("Whatever that is.")

Being a rock star hurts

Remember way back to my birthday when the S.O. gave me a guitar? Well, I decided I wasn't getting the hang of it on my own, so I started taking lessons.

I'm making progress now, fairly quickly. I practice daily and am starting to get the necessary callouses on my fingers. Not quite though. They get pretty darn painful after I play. Here's a picture that might be kind of gross.

You can click to embiggen it, if you really want to see the indentations in my fingertips and the awesome callouses I'm starting to get.

It's hard to type and forget about sorting paper or turning the pages of a book with those babies.

If sore fingers are the price I must pay to have millions of screaming fans, so be it. Because I'm telling you, people are going to pay big money to go to my concerts. But not you guys. You'll be on the guest list. You can say you're with the band.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

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Here's some green bears for you!

Wait. What's that? You wanted green BEER. Oh. Well. Nevermind.

May you be in heaven a full half hour
before the devil knows your dead.


Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Handyman

The tile --mosaic glass in "rainforest" -- for our backsplash finally came in, and yesterday, the S.O. installed it. I love the tile. And I love the S.O. for being so handy.

Here he is applying the thinset mortar.

And putting up the tile.

He even used a wet saw to make teeny tiny cuts for the corners. All his fingers are still intact.

Ripley and I mostly stayed out of the way.

Today the grout goes in. After we touch up some paint, the kitchen will be presentable.

For the record, the S.O. may have done most of the work installing the tile, but I picked it out. That means I should get some credit for how amazing the kitchen looks now. Right?

The folks at Planet Granite (where we bought the granite counter tops and mosaic glass tile) said I have good taste and asked for some photos once we're done. I take that as a compliment.

How lazy are we?

I just realized you guys must think all my dog ever does is sleep. I need to get some pictures of her playing or chasing cats or performing her new "trick" -- that the S.O. "taught" her, and she thinks is so clever but is actually really annoying -- of destroying paper bags and cardboard items set aside for recycling. She's taken to picking up anything made of cardboard and tearing it up, including full cases of diet soda. Well, she tried to pick it up but did manage to chew the corner off.

Of all the pictures I've posted of my dog, there are really only two in which she's doing something somewhat active. This one, of her destroying a Kleenex box (a post that also shows her laying in bed):


And this one of her trying to escape the snow:


My goal is to get some cute pictures of Ripley playing. She's really not all that lazy.
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LOL Ripley

I should be writing a test drive right now. Instead, this is what I'm doing:

And yes, that is my dog, snuggled up against my pink-sweatpant-clad behind. Don't you judge me.

Good news: The zombies are still hiring!

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From today's Cul de Sac:


I discovered this little gem of a comic strip a couple of months ago. It's weird sometimes but it almost always makes me laugh. I think there's a little preschooler in all of us.

The zombie reference is just an added bonus.
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So comfy

I think the time change effects us all. They're so tired they don't even mind sharing a bed.

Nighty night, kids.
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Dammit!

I guess I don't keep up with the news well enough, because I just found out this morning that ABC is canceling "Life on Mars." Apparently because it was fun and quirky and not your average boring cop drama. (Although others felt differently. Stupid TV critic.)

ABC gave "Scrubs" a new lease on life -- why, I'm not sure. I loved it in the beginning but in the last few years it's become just another sitcom. And effing "According to Jim" just keeps barreling along out of control. But shows I really enjoy, like "Life on Mars," "Eli Stone" and "Pushing Daisies," get the ax.

I'm definitely not going to start watching "Castle." I might like it. And as much as I love looking at Nathan Fillion, I'm pretty sure he's death to a series. "Firefly" had one season. He was in six episodes of something called "Miss Match" that lasted one season. And recently, he was in "Drive" which iMDb claims had six episodes, but I think Fox only aired three or four of those.

I need to stop watching television.

What I drove: Subaru Legacy

I never thought much about Subarus. Mostly, when I thought of a Subaru I would remember that my 4th-grade teacher drove a Subaru Brat and there was a car-care commercial way back when that had a lady saying, "Whoopdidoo for my Subaru!" (I think it was for Simonize or some such product. See how well advertising works?)


After driving the Forrester a few months back and the Legacy just last week, I'm thinking about Subarus a lot more -- and in a highly positive light. They're nice looking cars (the exception, in my opinion, is the Tribeca that went from weird looking when it was introduced to bland now) and they're not as pricey as I once thought.

The Legacy I drove came in at $22,960, with some nice options, like a moonroof and an upgraded sound system. There are plenty of cars cheaper than that, but only a few that also offer all-wheel drive and the Subaru reliability. The salesman I talked to told me that 95 percent of the Subarus registered in the past 10 years are still on the road. "You can't kill them," he said.

After being bored with the last few vehicles I've test driven, it was nice to get into a car that offered some excitement. The Legacy I drove was equipped with a 2.5-liter, SOHC, aluminum-alloy, 16-valve, horizontally opposed, four-cylinder Subaru Boxer engine that pumps out 170 horsepower. You can opt instead for a turbocharged 2.5-liter, four-cylinder or a beefy 3.0-liter, six-cylinder engine. The six-cylinder will give you an additional 75 horsepower over the test vehicle.

To quote myself:

"The Legacy zips along with a quiet, comfortable ride. It handles twists and turns like a sure-footed Bighorn sheep. The Legacy — like a Bighorn — seems to have been built specifically for Colorado terrain and weather."

In other news

Here's a dose of doggy for your Thursday morning.

Hmmm...

During a moment of panic, in an act of desperation, I sent a resume off to a small newspaper more than 100 miles south of home. I was qualified for the job, but never really thought I'd get it. So I never really considered what I would do if they contacted me. Imagine my surprise when this morning -- nearly nine month later, mind you -- I received an answer:

"If you are still looking for a newspaper reporter position, please let me know."

It seems the newspaper I applied to is part of a much larger parent company, so this person could be looking for reporters for any number of cities. It could be quite an opportunity. However, (being the grumpy skeptic that I am) I have a few problems with the situation.

• I'm not really keen on relocating. The house is almost perfect now, and I like the town where I live.
• I like being a freelancer (even if I need to be more ambitious about it) and working for the Literacy Center part time.
  
• I'm not really a "newspaper reporter" and never really was.*
• It's been nine freaking months since I sent this resume. Do they think I was just sitting around waiting for them to reply to me? I have a lot going on -- this blog, for instance. Do they think I can just drop everything because they call? Well, do they?

I'm thinking of replying, asking what the job is, where, the pay, etc. I can't imagine I'll want to pack up and move for it, but it can't hurt to ask, right?

* I'm more of a writer. And that's not just semantics. The articles I write are more along the lines of feature stories that don't involve tracking down leads or investigative reporting. Interviews I do tend to be with experts in their field. I've never had to talk to a parent who was mourning a lost child or holler at a corrupt politician for a sound bite.

Why I need a hippo

Apparently their arms are quite comforting.

Today's weather: What the heck?

It's freaking March, and I'm not wearing a coat, nor a jacket, not even a long-sleeve t-shirt. To friends and family east of the Mississippi, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, this warm dry weather means much of the area is under a Red Flag Warning. In fact, I can see the smoke from an area wildfire from here.

Twitterpated

Do you Twitter? Are you on Facebook (or some other networking site)? How out of touch am I?



Just the other night a friend asked if I Twitter. I felt so out of touch admitting that I don't. But hey! I have a blog. I was assured that Twitter is the wave of the future. Also, that I would connect with more people on Facebook. Knowing that less than a dozen people actually read my blog, maybe I should be trying some of these new-fangled thingies. On the other hand, I may just be "(a rotting corpse), grabbing for any glimmer of relevance."

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

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Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss

Dr. Seuss was born this day in 1904. Here's a goofy little something in honor of his birthday.

Dreams fed from stories told.
Lessons taught to young and old.
Dust specks saved from boiling oil.
Nature's gifts we shouldn't spoil.
A Grinchy heart went up a size.
Your stories still can mesmerize.
Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss.
Imaginations, you set loose.

What I read: "The Beast in the Garden" by David Baron

I read "The Beast in the Garden: A Modern Parable of Man and Nature" by David Baron for a book club I was recently invited to join. It's not a book I would typically read -- I gravitate toward fiction almost exclusively. It was a difficult read. Although the book is only 240 pages long, I took almost two weeks to get through it.

It's difficult in part because the subject matter hits close to home -- quite literally. The book tells the story of Boulder residents in the late 1980s who are besieged by hungry mountain lions -- mountain lions who have become so bold as to grab pets from enclosed pens and off of decks. The tale culminates with the killing of an 18-year-old man by a mountain lion.

The book covers the history of the founding and taming of the Front Range, then goes on to explain the conflicts between the wild world and civilization, between the Old West and the New West. Boulderites suffered inner conflicts over living with wildlife. There are sacrifices to be made in keeping the wilderness wild, and the book makes a good show of covering both sides.

The author obviously cares about nature and mountain lions, and I don't have a problem with that. We moved into the lions' space, removed their natural predators (wolves), encouraged their natural prey (deer) and allowed them to get used to having us around. It's an interesting subject, combined with a rich history of the state of Colorado. However, Baron's almost clinical descriptions of dogs being eaten and humans being stalked and attacked left me cold.

What I watched: Tear jerker edition

An evening with the TV all to myself and I watched "Bridge to Terabithia" because I am apparently a glutton for punishment. I read the book as a kid but somehow only remember that I loved it, and it was the first book that made me cry. That last part is important, because how did I think the first book to ever make me cry would not produce a movie that would make me cry?

I can't even tell you if the movie was any good because the kids in it were so damn cute and the stupid movie made. me. cry. I pride myself on having a stiff upper lip when it comes to movies (books not so much -- "Cold Mountain" and "The Time Traveler's Wife" made me weep openly). I think because I don't like people seeing me cry (books are more private, thus the waterworks).

It's a kids' movie for goodness sake. And it was a kids' book. What the heck was Disney thinking? What the heck was Katherine Paterson thinking? They had to have known that I would find myself alone with my television on a Thursday night watching this movie and falling in love with its characters. They had to know that I loved this book as a kid and my nostalgia and my (somewhat morbid) sense of curiosity would make me watch it and that being alone when I did, I would cry.

I just have to remember to not watch movies like this alone. Had I watched it with someone else I might be able to offer a coherent critique rather than a rambling about how the movie was sweet and sad. Did I mention it made me cry?

Daily Dog: Wimp Edition

Ripley went to the vet today for her geriatric exam. Yep, she's 9 years old -- that's like 60-something to you and me. I only hope I have her kind of energy when I'm in my 60s! She had to fast for her bloodwork, and when you have the metabolism of a fruit fly (or a rat terrier), fasting for 12+ hours is truly torturous. She just didn't understand that she would get fed, she just had to wait an extra hour and a half.

We saw a new vet at the office. I wasn't too worried because I trust Ripley's vet to only hire quality people and I know Ripley will love any vet who gives her cookies. But it's a good thing I'm not a nervous pet parent. When they took her in the back to draw blood, I could hear her crying and yelping. When the vet brought her back into the exam room, she said, "She had to show off."

"Was that her I heard crying?" I asked.

"That was her. She yelped when we wiped the alcohol on her neck with a cotton ball. We hadn't even inserted the needle."

Too bad they've already presented the Academy Awards, I think Ripley would be in the running for best actress. She may not have taken home the Oscar but she got lots of treats and ear scratches and belly rubs. And what starlet doesn't love those?

Shut up, horoscope

Capricorn
(Dec 22 - Jan 19)
Saturday, Feb 21st, 2009 -- It's hard to let go of your grouchiness now, but it really doesn't serve you any purpose. Sometimes it's important for others to know when you are not happy with what's happening, but tough judgments may be out of place today. By allowing others more latitude than usual, you are also giving yourself permission to have some downtime. Anyway, being grumpy takes much more effort than relaxing and enjoying the present moment.

What's the point of being a goat if you can't butt heads?