my favorite new show: PUSHING DAISIES

I love this show. Just love it. The plot is charming, the acting is amazing, the characters are believable and flawed and adorable. Please watch it. Wednesdays at 8PM on ABC for you cable subscribers; online here at abc.com for you internet-savvy folks. At this point, all the episodes aired thus far are available online for FREE! (You can also buy them on iTunes for a pretty cheap fee if you're so moved, or if they've taken them off the abc.com site by the time you're reading this and you want to watch.)

Oh, it's gorgeously done. For fans of Amelie and Wonderfalls and Dead Like Me. Read Tim Goodman's review of it here.

For those of you who've never clicked on the links on the lefthand side of this blog, I encourage you to do so. Friends' blogs are listed there (and even those that aren't updated are pretty good--and often very funny). Additionally, I've listed just a few websites that I visit with frequency.

Among them is yelp.com. Yelp is a website that's apparently very popular in other places around the country, especially in California. You create a profile for yourself, providing as little or as much information as you're willing to submit. After that, you can write reviews for any type of local business you can think of: bars, restaurants, cinemas, banks, gynecologists, you name it. Anyone, yelp members or not, can look on the site to see what regular people--people who haven't been paid to say they feel a certain way about things--really feel about establishments.

I think it's a cool idea despite its not having taken off in Athens.

Here's my Clocked! review. I don't take too much time to write my reviews on yelp, nor do I take too much time to write my blog entries here. In any case, I don't need to give you a disclaimer. I just encourage you to visit the site and check it out.

259 W Washington St
Athens, GA 30601
(706) 548-9175

Clocked

Category: American (New)

8-14-07:
Dear Lord. How many times can a girl swear off Clocked!? I have yet to give it another try since a new guy started managing it a few months ago, but going to this place can take upwards of an hour and a half out of your day.

But let's start with the good. The decor is fabulous--colorful, sparkly walls, gloriously tacky chandeliers, and awesome posters. The food is pretty good (but not amazing, in my opinion and many of my friends'), and the outdoor seating is a plus.

The staff seem overwhelmed when the place is more than half-full. It can take a while to get your glasses of water, even longer to get your order taken, and then comes. the. waiting. for. the. food.

The overpriced diner food. I just don't get what the big deal is.

The Cajun fries are good, esp. if you order feta dressing--but let's face it, we're stealing that trick from The Grill, an honest-to-goodness diner around the corner. That one burger with blue cheese on it is quite tasty, but when you're ornery after waiting for 45 minutes it's hard to enjoy.

And yes, this experience has repeated itself many times over. And no, I am far from the only one.

So, sorry, Clocked! Maybe I'll try you again another time. When I have a lot of time. And a lot of faith.

(P.S. As for their delivering--if you're at a nearby bar on Washington St., they'll take your food to you. You'll have to ask them how far they'll walk. That's pretty awesome.)

9-03-07:
I went there again the other night, remembering this here review and thinking to myself, "I should give this place another chance. AGAIN."

First exciting thing I noticed: they'd replaced the glaringly bright fluorescent lights in the funky overhead chandeliers with good old incandescents. I am an environmentalist at heart, but I'm also one for nice lighting and happen to be photophobic when it comes to fluorescents, so those lightbulbs meant I couldn't eat indoors before. Now the glaring white has been replaced by a warmer, softer color that makes the place as welcoming as it was before. Close call, folks, as the best thing going for this place is its atmosphere.

Pretty yummy, overpriced grilled cheese. $3.75 for a medium-sized sandwich that was perfectly grilled--melted cheddar delight. But only a few slices, so the pieces of bread touched themselves if you squeezed the sandwich in the least. Not the best sign of a supa grilled cheese.

The cajun tater tots were yummy but, ya know, tasted like frozen tater tots heated up in the oven instead of in the microwave.

And
the
service
was
realllllllyyy
realllyyy
slow.

Not like the other times I've gone, but it was pretty bad. Guy put his finger in our glasses as a means of carrying them (ew!), said the food would be "just another minute" when it was ten, and we were there for quite a while. Good thing I had nice conversation and a pretty dinnermate to look at.

Clocked, you did it again, you vicious beast.

Johari window

I'd forgotten I'd done this. It's kind of neat to set one of these up for yourself, especially if you're curious to know what others think of you as compared to what you think of yourself.

Or if you're just bored.

Well, looks like it's time for another Scrabble game before bed. I think I have a steady Scrabble partner until the day he beats me. Then will he decide the game's boring? Oh, no!!!

Halloween

I still haven't begun my Halloween costume. Every year I get inspired the night of Halloween, approximately seven minutes before I'm set to meet friends out for drinks and haunted debauchery. This leaves little to no time to construct a believable costume. The year before last I was a naughty little pirate, complete with a jaunty and mute parrot on my shoulder. (Thanks to Heather M., who willingly left said parrot at my house after my pirate party the month prior to Halloween. Ah, the pirate party. What fun.) That year (or the one before? or after? ah, who cares?) I also had some Halloween fun in NYC--got to dress up as one of the Clue gang with Brookie, her brother, and crew. I got assigned Mr. Green. I was believable in context but confusing outside of it. That evening I got a Migraine--so what else is new?--and ended up taking the subway alone back to Brooklyn to Brookie's apartment. I've had better Halloweens.

Last year I wore my mom's electric blue velour dress. Featuring a metal looped zipper-pull and a wide collar, this little number is super short and just so happens to be what MC wore on her first date with Duke. Ha! I paired it with some cheapy devil horns I borrowed from Kat after my homemade ones withered to nothingness. I also got my hands on Kat's plastic pitchfork, so I ended up pretty obvious: a devil with a blue dress on. I saw just one other girl with the same costume.

This year I was inspired by only one idea: to be Olive Oyl. What fun to have Jim "Bluto" Wilson as my counterpart. He's got the convincing beard, the one he refuses to shave. And with a little cap, the right shirt, and a fierce glare, he certainly can look the part. But he's bartending at Flicker that night and says it's a no-go. I've tried to convince him to change his mind and he won't.

So now I think I'll be Olive Oyl, tall and skinny and lanky as all get-out. But I've assembled not one part of my outfit. I procrastinate even on the most fun tasks! Getting a costume together is supposed to be invigorating and giggle-inducing. Instead I find myself dreading it. When the time comes, though--that is, when it's 9:00 PM on Wednesday night and I'm already late to meet people out, I'll be rushing around like mad, wishing I had more time. The ideas will be floating freely through the air so fast that I can't catch them quickly enough to use them. What creativity! What inspiration!

Procrastination is the devil.

Boo!

no-orth Georgia, mountain mama

Today I leave for my mountain getaway with some friends! I am very excited about this despite my things being nowhere near a bag. I have a few hours to get things together and have only one appointment to keep today (in addition to the appointment I must keep with my shampoo, conditioner, and soap in about fifteen minutes, lest I scare the other ladies with whom I'll share a cabin), so I should have time to gather my goods.

Yip dee do! Walking in the woods! Making hot chocolate! Horseback riding! Cuddling up in warm blankies! Hanging out with a bunch of people, most of whom I don't know at all! Maybe seeing one of my best friends in the world on Sunday evening! (Laurie lives in Blue Ridge, as I may have said before. I'm still not sure if I'll see her, as she may not be in town that day.)

And I'm off...

Happy weekend.

Jesus paints

I'm prejudiced. This I know to be true. Most notably, I'm prejudiced when it comes to Preachy Christians. I try try try not to be and have gotten so much better about it, but I can feel the scoff rising up through my abdomen when I encounter an In-Your-Face-Christian. I guess this would happen if another religion were the predominant religion of the U.S. of A., but that's not the case.

Maybe my distaste for preachiness stems from attending a high school chock full of FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athlete) members, many of whom wore their religion as a fashion statement and not as a way of life. Maybe I sided too much with the distastefully bitter Other Side, the side that was too quick to roll eyes and assume that anyone who claimed to believe in Jesus and God was not to be trusted, was someone who was surely full of crap and hypocrisy.

Now I am not sure where I stand. Lord knows I'm not sure what I believe. My parents are both fallen away Catholics who are now vehement secular humanists. My sister is more like me, I think, not so quick to say there is no god but not quite so willing to faithfully declare that she's sure there is one. Then again, I haven't ever asked her point-blank what her thoughts on the matter were. Apart from talking about our parents' shifting views and our mutual interest in the more liberal side of the Unitarian Universalist movement, she and I haven't talked much about religion and spiritualism as it personally affects us.

So, as I said, I've gotten better about the automatic snobbery with which I encounter those who want to convert me. I have little to no problem with people who do their own thing and don't try to involve me.

Today, as I pulled into my parking lot, I saw a van of one of the painting companies that's giving us estimates on recoloring our lovely neighborhood. I was disappointed in myself to feel that first reaction, the reaction that sounded like the mimicking that would come straight from my parents' mouths: "HIS COLORS PAINTING? They're not going to paint our houses!"

I'm such a snob! Who cares what the company's called? As long as the paint job is good and the price is right, right?

But, come on.... His Colors Painting?
Ughhh..

friend of the library

That's me.

I didn't want to capitalize the term "friend of the library," for to do so might be violating some copyright. It's National Friends of Libraries Week, and I'm not an official Friend, as I've not made any monetary donation. But boy oh boy, do I love that library.

When I was a wee young thing, my mom used to take my older sister and me to the Chamblee Library. Before it changed location, the Chamblee Library was a small building in old-city Chamblee, right near a train track in a cutesy part of town that was just beginning to get run-down. (Now that run-down area is getting revitalized; last time I drove by a couple weeks ago, there were new condos and retail stores just blocks away.) I vaguely remember walking the few steps up to the front door of the library, having my mom hold the door open. We knew the librarian there--she would give us recommendations.

My dad's a reader, too, but he has never understood the love for fiction that bonds my sister and mother and me. He buys books like crazy but will leave them lying around the house, occasionally stepping on them or placing a dirty coffee mug on an otherwise unmarred title page of a $25.00 hardback. My mother and I are different. Bordering on obsessive regarding the condition of our novels, we often don't let my dad so much as touch them. For as long as I can remember, one of my favorite sensations has been the slight cracking open of a new hardback storybook, the burying of my nose in the pages, the deep inhalation of breath to smell the fresh-from-the-press pages. I find equal joy in smelling much-loved library children's books, believe it or not. To think of all the hundreds of parents and babysitters and siblings and children who've read those pages, sounding out vowels and consonants, wondering what was to come of the characters they loved so dearly!


Though I had a bevy of amazing books to choose from at home, we went back again and again to our local library to borrow favorites. Russell Hoban was one of our preferred authors, and just hearing the title of Bread and Jam for Frances strikes a heart string. One of my current jobs involves my going to area homeless shelters to read to the children staying there. In a moment of nostalgia, I borrowed Bread and Jam for Frances from the Athens Regional Library. A few days before I was to pack it in the rolly bag I carry around in the trunk of my car, a rolly bag full of books and crafts and crayons and games, I decided to peruse the pages of the book on my own. In looking through the pages, in seeing the pictures and reading those words I'd not seen or heard in 15-20 years, I knew I wouldn't be able to share them with crowds of children.



This book belongs to me and my mom. Only my mom knows how to sing that little song Frances sings to her toast and jam, and only I know how to listen to her appreciatively as she does so. Closing the book, I felt like the bratty 6-year-old I often was, not wanting to share my favorite thing for no other reason than I was being selfish. The following day, I dropped it back off at the library while running errands.

Tomorrow I'll be back at the library to meet with my boss, the children's librarian. And I can't wait. I get to pick out the books I'll read with the kids for the next two weeks of work as well as some of my own books. My old self spent tons of money on buying books, but that's not possible these days--I must conserve and might as well utilize our city's resources while I'm at it!

Next month Jim and I will be making a recording as voice actors in our second puppet show at the library, by the way. I'll keep you posted about the performance date. Of course we'll not be performing (not even as puppeteers), but you will hear our voices on CD again! (But how will anything beat Jim as Pirate Captain Abdul with a baby named Little Treasure and me as his first mate, Yardarm Pitts?!)

Goodnight.

Doris Lessing knows a calamity when she sees one

I'm sure that if the vast majority of Americans cared much about what a prizewinning literary persona had to say, they would be less than pleased with what Doris Lessing said in a recent interview, as reported in this article. She's been in the spotlight again since being awarded the Nobel Prize for literature.

I would just like to quote one part for those of you who won't be clicking on the link:

"They're a very naive people, or they pretend to be," she added of Americans.

Lessing, whose novels include The Golden Notebook and Memoirs of a Survivor, also branded President George W Bush "a world calamity".

"Everyone is tired of this man. Either he is stupid or he is very clever, although you have to remember he is a member of a social class which has profited from wars."

Maybe I'll give The Golden Notebook another try. I dropped it after page 20 or so last time because I had about five other books I was more interested in.

anonymous vampire teeth, or, recipe for instant illness

Here's a recipe for a cold and flu epidemic:

Ingredients
8-10 children
4 adults (storytellers & babysitters)
8-10 sets of Halloween vampire teeth
early release day from school
a very small space
recent news that one child is "definitely contagious" with an unnamed illness

Process
Note: It should be assumed that, unless otherwise stated or unless the kids are chewing food, the vampire teeth are in their mouth.

1. The children should be given sets of vampire teeth by the volunteers who made them dinner that night. Then the dinner volunteers (heretofore referred to as "the culprits") flee the scene.

2. The children, whose mouths are already salivating due to their natural preponderance for drooling and the fact that they've just finished dessert, all gather for weekly story time. (Some should run away from the storyteller, others should cry, and still others should sit quietly*.)

3. One child, "Cookie Giver," should suddenly begin to whine about wanting to open a package of mysteriously acquired Nutter Butters. As soon as she opens said package, she will taunt the other children with the contents of the package, thereby destroying what semblance of peace the storyteller and volunteers have maintained thus far.

4. Once the cookies have been dispersed by a sticky-handed child (one with freshly-licked fingers) to those she has deemed worthy, the story-reading can begin.

5. The star of the night, Whiny Deluxe, should recommence moaning and whining right about now. Having finished dismantling and thoroughly licking and gnawing the Nutter Butter, she demands another of the Cookie Giver but is rejected. Whining escalates to the point that Whiny Deluxe is forced to remove the vampire teeth from her mouth to cry more audibly, thereby displaying an oddly thick, somewhat chunky, and ridiculously long stream of saliva from her lip to her hand, where she holds the plastic fangs.

6. Whining and begging and crying continue.

7. Storyteller and co. continue to read books.

8. Two male children decide to switch teeth. The storyteller notices this as it is already too late.

9. Book reading continues.

10. Kids fight over coloring books, removing their teeth to better enunciate. Removal of fangs results in streams of spit over books, carpet, and--in one unfortunate instance--a globule of spit on asst. storyteller's bare toes.

11. After 59 minutes, you will have a thoroughly exhausted crowd of children and adults. None of the children will know whose teeth are whose, and everyone will have been coughed on.





*Note: This is actually never the reality, but it was put there in case you see this reaction and are taken by surprise.

a blog a day? only when amy's away.

I have an excuse for not fulfilling my once-a-day writing promise. You see, the one and only Amy was in town for a couple of days, and that meant that my free time was not spent loafing about the house, reading books and writing. Instead, I was out and about, hearing about her travels over the last couple of months and getting some much-needed quality time in over at my home away from home, the Flicker Theatre & Bar.

In spending time with this little angelic yet fiery beastlet, I have become invigorated once again. There are some ideas afloat, some things to look forward to apart from tutoring and storytelling. (I reiterate that I do love my jobs but don't want to continue them as a career.)

My body feels more or less tingly. Is it the sense of good things to come, or is it that I missed my 300mg of Zonegran last night? One may never know, but I'm going for number one. When in doubt, choose the more promising and mystical choice.

I heart Beth Littleford

Comedy Central has posted video clips from all Daily Show episodes since Jon Stewart took the reins in early 1999. Unfortunately, this means that my favorite video is still not online--Craig Kilborn was at the helm when friends and I saw a taping that featured Mo Rocca's interview of the man in Ohio who was obsessed with first ladies. I've never laughed so much. But the newer clips are hilarious, too, I know--especially the Beth Littleford delights, however few and far between they might be.

Do a search for her name under the "videos" link and you won't be disappointed. Her interviews are great. I just watched the Wizard of Oz Munchkin interview and laughed at her antics. I'm saving the rest for later.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/

karaoke dreamzzz

Tonight I went to Shokitini for two newish friends' birthday party. I had been geared up to go most of the day but became a bit reluctant when a dull ache settled in around my left shoulder and neck area. Ultimately, I went anyway and am quite pleased that I did.

The three karaoke rooms at Shokitini tend to get crowded, messy, and confusing. Of the few times I've been there for get-togethers, this was the most fun I've had--probably because I felt the healthiest. At the karaoke singalong party that was, in essence, for Jim and Nicole and Trish, I left early with an awful migraine and was very thankful to get my favorite taxicab man on the phone for an immediate ride home. But onto tonight's shenanigans.

If you're unfamiliar with the idea of private karaoke rooms, which are immensely popular in Asian countries, as far as I understand, think back to the scene in Lost in Translation when Scarlet Johanssen and Bill Murray go out with a bunch of friends to sing karaoke in a tiny, cramped room where bartenders periodically bring them drinks. That can serve as your reference point. If you're still lost, suffice it to say that one can rent out an entire room that has a high-quality karaoke machine, a few song selection books, sushi menus, drink menus, and a couple of servers that check on you periodically. Now add 20-30 of your friends and a few random folks you've never seen before.

Karaoke didn't appeal to me much until recently. The last time I was at Shokitini, I sang a song with Trish--just the two of us! This was unlike me. Just a few weeks before that, I refused to get on stage at The Swiss Chalet, a Geneva-on-the-Lake, OH bar and "family establishment" (read: bar) to do karaoke with my three tipsy cousins and Jim, who did an awe-inspiring version of "Love Shack." The mere thought made me blush despite years of stage experience as an amateur actress (read: community theatre and school shows only). So why did I start belting out the tunes tonight? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that "Bohemian Rhapsody" started a couple minutes after I walked in. I don't need any screen to tell me the words to that song, nor do I need to wonder what to do with my hands as I stand or sit awkwardly as I belt into the microphone. Laurie Mineo and I created a devastatingly beautiful synchronized dance to this song in 1992. Maybe if I'd been a little more warmed up I would've busted it out.

In the history of songs I've loved to love, there have been a few that I've played repeatedly, wanting to hear every nuance not just so I could appreciate it but so I could learn how to mimic it for my own car and shower singing. The songs don't have to be particularly well-written to be on this list (though they often are). They are sometimes cheesy and sometimes not. I'll not admit to many of them, but some included are Brandi Carlile's "What Can I Say?" and "Wig in a Box" from the Hedwig and the Angry Inch play soundtrack. (I much prefer the play version to the movie one, for some reason.) "If songs like that were on karaoke," I can remember saying, "maybe I would do it." Well, what song do you think Melinda and Jessica requested to sing toward the end of the evening? That's right: "Wig in a Box." I joined them, as did one other friend of theirs and another guy they knew who drifted in from another karaoke room ("I just sang this in there!" he cried). No one else in the huge room knew what we were singing, but we emoted our little hearts out. It was great. Had I been the only one singing, I'd have been self-conscious. But with a few partners in crime, it was pretty exciting.

Karaoke fears no more? We'll see. For tonight, I surely put them aside.

Suddenly I'm this punk rock star
of stage and screen
and I ain't never
I'm never turning back
-"Wig in a Box" from Hedwig & the Angry Inch

cursed internet!

My quality of life would be much improved without the internet.

I can no longer scoff in silent judgment at others who watch TV, for I am an active TV watcher. True that only a couple shows hold my true interest--this season, Grey's Anatomy, my old standby, is frustrating me with its plot lines while a newbie, Pushing Daisies, is charming me to death, so to speak. (Oh, I didn't mean to be punny! But surely my subconscious did.)

In my senior year high school English class, Mr. Friedman gave us daily allusions--references to literature, film, culture, etc. Once in awhile, someone in the class recognized the source, but usually he would have to tell us what it was from. We would have tests over our daily allusions and study so much for these tests that the allusions became ingrained in our day-to-day speech. Friedman scholars, as he liked to call us (but none of us called ourselves), took with us to our respective schools an army of allusions, ready to wow our professors in our papers and essay tests. And it worked. I understood references the most lofty thinkers made to ancient Roman history; I knew what a double-edged sword was and could quote from many of Shakespeare's speeches.

Back to the point. There was one afternoon when Mr. Friedman had an allusion that read, "Demon box! Thief of time! I forsake you!" It was from this comic, which I've also posted below.


This internet has become to me what the TV seems to be for many. I need to impose a time limit for myself. I use the excuses that I'm writing, or reading news, or catching up on this weekend's goings-on. But then, twenty minutes later, I find myself looking through the photo album of a high school friend I've not talked to (other than through facebook or myspace) since 1998 graduation. For no reason. I know what she looks like. Do I really need to see how her vacation to her the Bahamas with a bunch of friends I've never met went? NO!!!

Demon box! Thief of time!

Just now I played ANOTHER game of solitaire Scrabble, when what I really wanted to do was write a thank-you note to my neighbor, who made me some Halloween cookies the other day.

So I'm off to do just that. NOW.

No more excuses, you little thief.

Happy weekend!

"You charmed the hell out of Snow Cat!"

DISCLAIMER: THIS COULD BE A BORING POST, AS IT'S ABOUT A DREAM. BUT IT DOES FEATURE A GUY WHO GOES BY THE NAME OF SNOW CAT, A PICTURE FROM LABYRINTH, AND A MITCH HEDBERG QUOTE. SO IT MAY BE WORTH A SKIM.

An hour and a half ago, I awoke from a nest of dreams chock full of recurring themes: I was running late and couldn't seem to get anywhere in time while the clock raced ahead, every set of stairs I encountered seemed to dead end or go in the opposite direction (a la David Bowie's Labyrinth), I suddenly had a paper to write that I hadn't been aware of before, and the whole thing took place at the Air Force Academy, a frequent JEG dream setting.

My duties were done for the day. I'm not sure what those duties were --I assume it included swimming lots of laps, as I was at the U.S. Air Force Academy, and I used to go there each summer for the Falcon Summer Sports Camp program to train. (I was once a rather good swimmer.)

I was trying to rush back to the faraway parking lot to fetch my car so I could make it back to my family's hotel room just in time for a 6:30 dinner with my sister, mom, and grandma.

But the stairways went nowhere. Long lines greeted me at every elevator bank, so I willingly raced up the carpeted stairs only to find that after one flight there was a glass wall in my face. You had to take an elevator to get up the stairs. Once I waited for an elevator to take me up to the stairs, I encountered a similar snafu.

Stairs leading nowhere--or leading to dead-ends, at least--have been in my dreams for as long as I can remember. In 1998 I visited the Air Force Academy with my dad and a friend from high school. A retired AF Lt. Col., my dad's status allowed us to roam around wherever we wanted on campus. I peeked in the cadet dormitories just once to look at where I'd stayed all those years ago (in reality, only 3 years had passed since my last summer there, but at the time it felt like an eternity). And there I saw them: the stairs that led nowhere! I'd forgotten that one stairwell in one dorm there went up a certain number of levels and then just stopped with no warning. Was this the reason I dreamt of dead ends so often? It was an interesting explanation, nevertheless.

To make a long story stort, the dream careened out of my control shortly after the stairs/elevator debacle. I eventually decided to go for the elevator and, in rushing to catch the elevator before it closed, had to lift my legs high over a deliberately-placed lamp that had been laid in my path. I got into a playful tiff with the young man in charge, telling him he had only put it there so women would have to lift their legs high and he'd catch a glimpse of their undies. He denied it and seemed annoyed with my defiant attitude.

When I got off the elevator minutes later, a woman presented to me a white carnation, a gift from Snow Cat. As in the show The Bachelor, this granted me some kind of immunity, a guarantee that I wouldn't be kicked off. "You sure charmed the hell out of of Snow Cat," she said, and it slowly made sense to me that the young man dressed in black working at the elevator bank had been the almighty Snow Cat.

But how did I have time to be relieved? Just then the woman also told me about a SAT prep course paper that was due, and I only had 5 minutes to get to my car and meet up with my grandma for dinner.

"I hate dreaming because when you want to sleep, you want to sleep. Dreaming is work. Next thing you know, I have to build a go cart with my ex-landlord." -Mitch Hedberg

Jot 'Em Down BBQ

After babysitting teensy baby Adrian (whom I should quit calling "teensy," as he's 15 months old now--but man, he's so damned cute), I drove back to the downtown/Boulevard area to my sweet, sweet home. My beau wanted to treat me to lunch, which was just swell. We drove to Jot 'Em Down BBQ, which meant a drive back to the East Side. But that's okay--we took a different route, traveling along Milledge and listening to each other moan and groan as we endured the 2 minute "traffic jam" that is the ever-congested Five Points intersection.

The restaurant and store was over 85 degrees inside. Apparently their air conditioning went out that morning. It's October 17th today, and a few hours of no air conditioning meant it was summertime hot inside. What's the deal?

I liked the barbecue but didn't love it. Maybe I didn't choose the right sauces, the right combinations. They had a special side today with the unappetizing title of cabbage casserole--to my delight, it was delicious and really flavorful. If you go to Jot 'Em Down and it's being served, I recommend it. Big portions, affordable prices (especially if you get a boy to pay), and a genuinely kitschy environment--cans of soup and meat and loaves of white bread for sale line the shelves, and old-timey signs (ones actually from the past, not ones recently mass-produced) are on the walls. A fun place, and not far from downtown at all, as I had always assumed.

Jot 'Em Down Store & BBQ
150 Whitehall Rd
Athens, GA 30605
(706) 549-2110

dirty, dirty toofpaste

Last night, I told my borderline live-in boyfriend that I'd bought new toothpaste but that I'd left said toothpaste out in a Walgreen's bag in the trunk of my car. "I don't want you to get it, I want to play Scrabble," he cried (and if I misquote, I still assert that the spirit of the statement is true, however opposed he is to my writing it here).

"Okay, I'll get it tomorrow morning, then. Just use what's left of that tube, then. There's some left."

Silence. I turned back around and he pointed at the trash can. Through words and actions I couldn't make sense of, Jim was indicating that I'd already thrown the sticky, crushed Colgate tube away. It now sat in the bathroom garbage can, surrounded by tissues, trying to camouflage itself behind a nest of hair I'd recently disentangled from my hairbrush.

"I'll get it out. It'll be fine."

He didn't like that option, but I went for it anyway. "I'll just unscrew the top here. There's no hair on it." (GROSS!) In the midst of unscrewing the top, plop! went the entire tube into the toilet. (GROSSER!)

Actual evidence:


Of course we ended up out at the car to fetch the new tubes. For some reason, Jim didn't want to use the Colgate even though there was still some left in the hairy, toilety tube.

Scrabbalicious

I've been a part of four Scrabble games in the last two days. Four. Two were with Jim. One was with two ten year olds when I was tutoring. Another was a virtual Scrabulous (<<---gross) game with Nina B. via facebook. She challenged me! I had to do it!

I LOVE Scrabble. Not in that obsessive, competitive, know-all-the-trick-words-that-not-even-English-professors-use-in-their-scholarly-papers way. But in the way that makes my heart race when I think I have the most incredible word ever, the same word that is suddenly rendered incomplete when a second glance at my letters reveals to me that I am missing a key vowel. That fleeting despair I face is known only known to people who love Scrabble in the way I do.

We forge forward. We find a new word, we hope for the triple letter score on a four-point W. A triple word score on a Q word is nearly unheard of, but it's one of my faint hopes, one I dare not speak aloud. Maybe...someday.

I seem to recall a move I made at my family reunion either this past summer or the one before when I extended a preexisting word all the way down to the triple word score, therefore garnering points from the other player's previous word, my new points, and of course the triple value of it all. One of my crowning moments.

Ooh, all this talk has me hot and bothered. Wonder if Nina B. has made her move yet in our online game. If so, it's my go...

(Dear lord: an hour later, and I've found a site where you can play SOLITAIRE SCRABBLE. I played against a robot and he/she/it pulled all those tricky moves, using words that aren't even in Merriam-Webster's. I don't dig that. But here's my solo game. I love not having competition!

Stop me now. But first, try it yourself: http://www.scrabulous.com/solitaire_scrabble.php)

Am I smarter than a 5th grader?

I just played Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? on fox.com and cheated on the last question. That's right--I cheated! That's something my fifth grade self wouldn't do. But seriously: who would take the twenty minutes to play this boring online game in the first place? The time between questions is agonizing--there's a slow-motion eraser that erases the question, posts a "correct!" or "incorrect" sign on the blackboard, and then you must click another button for the magic eraser to reappear and do its slow stuff so the next question will appear.

It's so annoying, yet I sat through it for many questions until I became one of the winners. I'm now on the honor roll. But this was the last question:

Who composed the opera Carmen? It's Bizet. I didn't know this, but google.com taught me. Maybe I am smarter than a 5th grader because I could be resourceful enough and quick enough to do a google search before my time was up.

The end.

P.S. Don't go play the game. It sucks.

kickball with the kids

I've been playing kickball the last few weeks with a bunch of friends out at the field behind the public library. Sometimes I'm really amazing and awe-inspiring to watch when it comes to team sports. Other times, I'm the oaf who gets in the way. When I play kickball with these friends, I'm somewhere in between, neither standing out nor failing too miserably.

Last week, I kicked a line drive towards third base. Or second. Or first. Who the hell cares what direction it went to? It was a single, and it was a strong kick. I kicked and shot like a bullet from home to first, ready to stake my claim on the dirty dish towel that serves as our first base plate. But what was that feeling in my legs? Each thigh completely froze up. My muscles were stretched twice as long as they should've been--they felt like those old, crusty rubber bands you find in the back of your desk drawer. "This old rubber band might still work," you think as you stretch it around a deck of cards, only to find that the stretchiness is gone, replaced instead by a substance that is both sticky and hard. SNAP. That's what my legs felt like.

I'm too old to play sports without stretching first.

My friends and I are not ten and under, running free and wild each and every day. Now we must stretch first, willing to admit that we are no longer in amazing shape. The 7th inning stretch isn't a cute little moment, a charming throwback to baseball games attended as children. It's a necessary break as we heave and haw, bringing much-needed air into our lungs. Guys' faces drip with sweat. Jason lights a cigarette. Matt and Jim chug water hungrily, wiping spilled streams with the back of their hands.

We are old now. We are sweaty. We are out of shape. Yet we play.

See you all at four p.m today! Kick it up. Let's hope I don't hobble home.

whew!

I just finished copying and pasting all of my blogs from myspace.com over to blogger. I didn't realize the venture would take hours to accomplish! In that time I got to reminisce, though, and lord knows I love to do that. It was a little different from going back through old journals in that I don't get too personal in terms of emotions and personal situations when I'm writing blog entries. I'm concerned for others' feelings as much as my own when I'm writing in a public forum, I think. I'd hate for my family, my dear friends, or my darling significant other to come across something that seemed to me inoffensive at the time I was writing but has inadvertently wounded them. That would be the worst.

In a sense, the fear of others' perceptions is one of the many things holding me back from writing. I in no way can blame this as the primary force, however. Still, though, that fear is present. I don't want my parents to be upset by ways in which my characters talk; I don't want old friends to be upset if I do what I'm often inclined to and write semi-autobiographically about my childhood home and neighborhood. I want to get some details right and want to deliberately mess with other ones. In screwing with the past I might forget it, and I don't want to. As the one who seems to remember those times the best, the memory-keeper, I don't want to let go of all that.

Ah, I'll be quiet about all that now.

My sister's birthday is today. She's 32! Rosa is thirty-two. Hard to believe. Each time she has a birthday I think of the year we tried to have an impromptu surprise party for her on Ensign Court. I'm sure that Mike, Jeff, Meghan, Merry, and I were involved. Perhaps David Wishen was there, too. In any case, little Merry (who was only a year younger than I but always seemed so much smaller and wiry) just couldn't hold in the secret. Julie was out on the street playing some game--who knows what?--when Merry skimmed by on her bike, whispering harshly and quickly, "Surprisepartyforyoutoday." And there went the surprise. Ha.

My sister didn't pick up when I called. I didn't send her a card in time for her birthday, either. No reason, no excuse. I wanted to get her a present in time to send with the card, but I've not found a good one yet. So instead of just sending a thoughtful card first and a gift later, I sent nothing. Not a sisterly thing to do. Oops. I feel bad.

Goodnight. I'm being a Saturday night hermit after a lazy day with Jim.

9/3/07 - the most important thing you'll ever read

September 3, 2007 - Monday

(This may not be the most thrilling blog for people who aren't wanting to know a lot about me, but I wanted to have a place to preserve it. And this seemed a suitable venue!)

8:17 PM - the most important thing you’ll ever read Current mood: bouncy (Yes, I've finally broken down to do one of these!) 10 years ago... 1.) How old were you?: 17 2.) Where did you go to school?: I had just begun my senior year at Milton High School in Alpharetta. This wasn't the quarter of two independent studies, I don't think. That was the best. First period doing an "independent study" in lit mag with Mrs. Davis and last period hanging out on the front lawn with Meggan Harris, Andrea Erlich, and Chris Reardon during our respective TAG independent studies. (I was doing women's lit.) That was the best quarter ever. 3) Where did you work? I had eschewed what I'd considered the dorkiness of babysitting, favoring instead to hit up my bottomlessly-pocketed father so I could hang out at Starbucks with my friends. Truly, though, I had a hectic school and play schedule much of the time. I was a little social butterfly kitty when not doing school or clubs or theatre. 4) Where did you live?: The perfectly cultivated, beautiful but beastly monstrosity we call Windward. The older part. On the lake in the "weathered New England fishing village" called "The Spinnakers." If you don't know what I mean, I'm sorry. I'll break it down briefly: Mobil (yes, the gas company) owns several huge developments across the country, developments spanning several highway exits that encompass large geographical features around which the subdivisions develop. We had manmade Lake Windward, created in/from/on/around Alpharetta's wetlands. When I moved in in 1993, The Spinnakers was the second or third of 17 subdivisions within Windward. When I left it was one of 32. And counting. The place is HUGE. 5.) Where did you hang out?: Village Playhouses of Roswell (even if i wasn't doing a play, I'd hang out there a lot), Starbucks on Alpharetta Highway & Mansell Rd. (best/easiest place for me to meet up with Lieeish, Dallas, and Peyton since we didn't all go to the same h.s. or live nearby--plus we had an affection for long, aimless, hilarious conversation and had nowhere else to go), Dallas's house, Kate's house, Kim's, etc. 6.) Did you wear glasses?: I did once in awhile. I'd just gotten them in summer of '97 for driving. I wore them in that one senior picture where I have the baby blue tank top on and my hair is freshly dyed blond and I have pudgy not-quite-grown-up-face. It's cute but cheesy. 7.) Who was your best friend?: I had lots, as usual. Kate, Kim, Dallas, Lieeish, Peyton, Apy, Sarah C., Tapey, Proph, and many others I'm neglecting to even mention. 8.) How many tattoos did you have?: zero 9.) How many piercings did you have? I think by then I had two in each ear. Maybe three in one, two in the other. Maybe just two and two. Yes, as I recall, it was at least two and two. I'd begged my mom for years for that second hole and she'd said no, not a chance in hell. But suddenly one of her younger sisters up and got the second set o' holes poked and that made it okay!! 10) What car did you drive? Um, I think by then I was driving hte '96 black Nissan 200SX-SER that I drove on and off until a couple years ago when I sold it to a friend. 11.) Had you been to a real party? No. I was angelic. -----------5 years ago----------- 1.) How old were you?: 22. 2.) Where did you go to school? I had finished my undergrad at NYU in May of that year (2002) and was living in Lake Worth, FL (Palm Beach County) doing Literacy*AmeriCorps. 3.) Where did you work? Toussaint L'Ouverture High School for Arts & Social Justice. I was a tutor & literacy advocate there for L*AC (see above). 4.) Where did you live?: Lake Worth, FL 5.) Where did you hang out? At my apartment (Count de Hoernle Student Village..ew. In the ghettooooo...), at South Shore or Dave's, at the beach, in Delray, or at my parents' two hours north. I didn't really go out much. I was pooped a lot. I did enjoy driving on A1A. 6.) Did you wear glasses?: Occasionally. 7.) Who was your best friend?: Um, lots of people far and near. 8.) How many tattoos did you have?: Zero. 9.) How many piercings did you have?: Ears (3 in one, 2 in the other), belly (oh why?) and the never-placed tongue piercing (why part II?). 10.) What car did you drive? Same ol' black 1996 Nissan 200 SX-SER 11.) Had your heart broken?: yes, you could say that. 12.) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorce?: Single Sally, with no local prospects in sight and only an occasional faraway crush to keep me entertained once in awhile. ----------------2 years ago------------------- 1.) How old were you?: 25 2.) Where did you go to school?: I was beginning my second year of my M.Ed. in gifted & creative education at UGA. 3.) Where did you work?: I was the editorial assistant at the _Journal for Secondary Gifted Education_ and also a research assistant on a bibliotherapy project. And a babysitter. And a Ropes course facilitator. 4.) Where did you live? The Purple Pagoda!! 5.where did you hang out?: The Dub-P, the Manhattan, ERC, Hot Corner, 283, Caledonia, 40 Watt, anywhere with Siobhan or Tamara or Nancy or Bethany or Daniel or Denise or _______* (insert fun favorite Athens friends here...I'm tired of listing.) 6.) Did you wear glasses?: Yes, frequently. 7.) Who was your best friend? This feels like a silly question. All the former people combined plus the new Athens folks I'd acquired. 8.) How many tattoos did you have? Stop asking me this. The answer will always be no. 9.) How many piercings did you have? Same as at age 22. 10.) What car did you drive? I think this was the last time period during which I drove the black Nissan deluxe. 11.) Had your heart broken?: Not since the last time I'd mentioned. 12.) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorce?: Single Sally McGee. --------------------Today-------------------- 1.) How old are you?: 27 3.) Where do you work? Athens Regional Library (storyteller) Clarke County Dept of Ed (tutor) Babysitter 4.) Where do you live? Purple Pagoda (in Addieville!) 5.) Do you wear glasses?: I wish! Mine are missing a lens. Need new ones but need money first. 6.) Where do you hang out?: Flicker. Home. Parties if I can take it. Flicker some more. My room some more. Liz's before she up and LEFT ME. With Jim. Downtown. The usual. 7.) Do you talk to your old friends? Yes, but I've been beating myself up about how infrequent it's become. I guess others could call me more frequently, too, bu t still. I feel bad. 8.) Who is your best friend?: Don't make me choose just one! I've never liked that, even from a very early age. 9.) How many piercings do you have: why reverse the order of tattoos & piercings questions now? 10.) How many tattoos?: zero, fools! 11.) What kind of car do you have? Perma-borrowing my dad's 2003 Acura 2003 RSX. 12.) Has your heart been broken? Not since you last checked in on me. 13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorce?: Taken like a bandit in the night. Currently listening : Alligator By The National Release date: By 03 April, 2006 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

Jerry

http://s41.photobucket.com/albums/e278/jannygirljr/?action=view&current=jerryjanetprom.jpg

8/1/07 - trying yoga? or, Kathleen would be proud...

August 1, 2007 - Wednesday

(I'm embarrassed and ashamed to admit that as of Oct. 07 I still haven't done yoga!! EEEEK. What can I do to force myself? Love, Scared Me)

1:10 AM - trying yoga? or, Kathleen would be proud... Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes http://www.rubbersoulyoga.com Does anyone want to join me in some cheap (or free) yoga classes at Rubber Soul? I have been planning on going for a year or so now, always thinking I'd get around to it. What am I waiting for? Rubber Soul is an awesome place (see website above), the classes are affordable (obviously), and beginners are more than welcome (and I'm most definitely the most clueless of clueless beginners). In fact, they encourage new people and even say that it may seem awkward for the first few sessions 'til you get used to things. Yoga helps with relaxation, with breathing, with stress, with alignment, with pain. Like many possible Migraine aids, I keep it at bay out there, not wanting to cash it in just yet. Because what if I start doing yoga and it doesn't help my headaches at all? I doubt that'll be the case, and even if it doesn't help my head pain it'll help my body and my sense of being. But I do think it'll help. With a lot. That doesn't mean I want to go to the first classes alone. Anyone want to accompany? Wimpily but inspiringly yours, Janet Ev Currently listening : Chariots Of Fire By Vangelis Release date: By 25 October, 1990 7 Comments - 4 Kudos

	Jenn	I would totally go with you if I lived in Athens!!! Let me know how you end up liking it! Posted by Jenn on August 1, 2007 - Wednesday at 7:03 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	laurie	i went to classes at rubber soul for a while last year. i really liked it, but i stopped going after a while because i'm lazy, apparently. what day are you thinking about going? i've been wanting to go back. Posted by laurie on August 1, 2007 - Wednesday at 7:20 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	(Steady) Eddy	I'll go. I really love Cal. But yoga makes me cry and I get embarrassed and then I don't go back for a while. So, if I won't embarrass you by sniffling a little, I'd love to conquer the fear with friendly faces around me. When are you planning to go? The August schedule is truncated because Cal is going out of town, I think. Kate's class on Saturdays is awesome but I recommend a slower class at first. She gives alternatives but it makes me feel weird when I can't even begin to think of standing on one foot but i'm hopping about trying not to look like a spastic improv dancer anyway. Posted by (Steady) Eddy on August 1, 2007 - Wednesday at 9:57 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	K	i want to go! i want to go! damn the miles between us. i could use a class myself right now. careful, you might get addicted. hugs! k ps-jilly is coming to town next week!!! maybe we can call you and giggle. Posted by K on August 1, 2007 - Wednesday at 11:01 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	Mary Beth	Yes. Oui. Let's do it. wink, wink Posted by Mary Beth on August 1, 2007 - Wednesday at 12:48 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	Sarah Beth	Yoga is the best thing in the world you can do! will change your life! Posted by Sarah Beth on August 6, 2007 - Monday at 10:58 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

Joe

I once tried yoga. But it was too early in the morning. I will try it again later. Posted by Joe on August 11, 2007 - Saturday at 10:02 AM

7/24/07 - Praise be!

July 24, 2007 - Tuesday

9:05 PM - Praise be! Current mood: calm My next-door neighbor, he of the late-night parties, the ever-barking dog(s), the rifles fired at innocent squirrels, the Coors Light-sponsored & unapproved pig roasts, the rudeness, the occasional friendliness, the Migraine-inducing midweek 3 AM text message battles during which I implored him to shut his windows during his frantic parties, has moved. Praise be. The house is empty, and the new renter is a very quiet lad I know, as he lives on the other side of me. That's right, ol' Steve-o is packing up and moving caddy-corner so he stays in Addieville as my next-door neighbor. New folks in Steve's house are supposedly a 20-something couple. Please let them not host raucous parties. Love, me Currently listening : Paint the Sky with Stars: The Best of Enya By Enya Release date: By 11 November, 1997 1 Comment

K

J! i've been following your posts about your neighbor for quite some time now and am very happy to hear that he has moved on! go you!! Posted by K on July 25, 2007 - Wednesday at 9:38 PM

4/18/06 - raise the roof

April 18, 2007 - Wednesday

3:13 PM - raise the roof I'm getting part of my roof replaced. It'll be metal/tin, while the rest of the house will be its usual greyish normal-roof self. I'm afraid it'll look weird, but not afraid enough to spend the $1000 extra it costs to replace the damaged area with the darker rubbery material that'll last a long time. So we'll see what happens and deal with the consequences. Worse things have happened than disliking your roof. And who knows? Maybe I'll like it. My neighbor, he of the ceaselessly barking & nipping dogs and late night parties, is upset with me because he thinks the metal roof will illuminate his living room. Fair argument, I guess, but it will be rendered null and void when he sees that the only part that's metal is nearly flat and not facing his house at all, but instead facing the sky. I started this to say how terribly loud it was in here and how I wanted to do something but didn't really want to leave my house, exactly. Didn't want to waste gas and didn't feel up to walking downtown after having gone on two long walks while babysitting today. And then Crackbaby called to ask if I could accompany her to visit a baby kitty she might adopt! So I'm going on a kitty errand. The end. 1 Comment

K

i do enjoy your blogs janny. its been over a year since i have heard your sweet voice but somehow these blogs make it all ok. Posted by K on April 18, 2007 - Wednesday at 5:10 PM

4/16/07 - Ryan Seacrest & me, plus 49 other mundane things even I didn't want to know

April 16, 2007 - Monday

9:59 PM - Ryan Seacrest & me, plus 49 other mundane things even I didn't want to know Current mood: happy 1. Introduce yourself. Bonjour, tout le monde. Je m'appelle Super Jan!!! 2. It's Thursday at noon, where are you usually? Hanging out with a teensy baby. I have a regular babysitting gig and am usually with Adrian on Thursdays at noon. This coming Thursday I'll be ON THE WAY TO FLORIDA with Liz, though!!! 3. What kind of laundry detergent do you use? Purex!! 4. What brand of shampoo is in your shower right now? Garnier Fructis 5. Did you ever get into a bar and drink before you were 21? tee hee hee 6. What countries have you been to? Mexico, Canada, Costa Rica, Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, Brazil, Switzerland, England, Italy, Germany, and MORE TO COME!! 7. Do you watch MTV anymore? Nope. Have flipped to it once in a while during trips to my parents' house, but I can't even force myself to be interested for more than a couple seconds. Maybe I'm catching the wrong shows, but I doubt it. I think it's just all bad. 8. What do you think about Oprah? I think she's magically transformed by makeup and hair stylists. 9. What color are your bedsheets? Right now, my full-sized, extra long bed features off-white T-shirt sheets. 10. You need a new pair of jeans..what store do you go first? The Gap has been the only place of late that carries jeans that accurately fit these gams o' mine. 11. Did you ever watch The O.C.? I think I've seen snippets of 3 episodes in all. 12. What kind of car do you drive? A gold *FOR SALE* 1996 Nissan Maxima *THAT'S FOR SALE*!! (Inquire for details.) Ha. Soon I shall reclaim my car of yore, a 2003 Acura RSX descended straight from heaven. 13. Honestly, is that car insured? The phrasing of that question grosses me out, as it reminds me of an obnoxious girl I went to elementary school with. Yes, my current car is insured, and my future one will be, too. You get arrested instantaneously without insurance, fools. 14. Do you like sushi? Dear lord, yes. 15. Have you ever been to Tiffany & Co. or Saks 5th Ave? Both, my dearest ones. But I've not purchased even the minutest object from either place. 16. Did your parents spoil you growing up? Yes, most notably in the never-have-to-do-chores realm. 17. Do you like roller coasters? Yes, but in recent years they've made my head hurt more than they used to. This is tragic. I like the old-fashioned wooden ones, and Kennywood coasters can't be beat! 18. What magazine(s) do you buy regularly or subscribed to? I subscribe to Paste and love it. I have a mysterious free subscription to _Rolling Stone_ but never read it--just pass it off to Jim, especially when the covers are as enticing as they are this week (Rosario Dawson & Rose McGowan naked but for ammo covering their hoo-has). 19. Do you remember the WB show "Popular"? I sure do. I don't think I watched it, though. 20. When you go out do you prefer to go to a dance club or to a bar? A bar, by far. But I do like that Flicker Theatre and Dance Club. 21. What do you think about gay marriage? Legalize it. 22. Who do you think will be the next president? ? 23. Are you registered to vote? Of course. And I get teary-eyed almost every time I go despite my overwhelming lack of political-ness. 24. Do you own an iPod? Yes, ol' Baby Blue. (Thanks, Perry!) 25. Is your bathroom filled with beauty stuff? Not really. 26. What kind of cologne/perfume do you wear? Moonlight Path. Janet's signature scent, goin' strong since 2000. 27. Do you like Carrie Underwood? I'm not sure who that is. 28. Been to "The Vegas"? I've been to Las Vegas, it's true. Ole Hoecker lives there and gave me the tour of a lifetime over two years ago now. 29. How far away do you live from your parents? 8.5 hours away driving. Or a little less than three days if you want to count down the time 'til Liz & I see them next!!! 30. Are you happy with your job? With my multiple part time jobs? Why, yes! 31. What do you do there? Hang out with kids, read books, play outside, do ropes course activities, climb trees, edit papers, read some more, use the computer a lot, and confuse you by writing a brief job description of four distinct jobs in one sentence. 32. What did you get in the mail today? Today = Addieville check from Michael, a water bill, and KAT DODD'S WEDDING INVITATION! Yesterday = some prescription drugs (yessss), a grrreeeat package/letter from Sarah Beth, and a bill. 33. How do you like your steak cooked? Medium. And preferably in Buenos Aires. 34. What about Britney Spears? I don't have her cooked at all. 35. What do you usually order at Taco Bell? 3 soft tacos, meat & cheese only. But I think I go once every six months or so now. Once Nancy and I went and got the nastiest crispy mcsofttaconastiness treat special on earth. IT WAS SO GROSS. I think we may have vowed never to speak of it again. If that was the case, pretend you never read this. 36. Have you ever sat all the way through Gone With the Wind? Yes, in 8th grade we all watched it at Haynes Bridge. I've never read it, as Kimi has. ;) 37. Have you ever been to Mt. Rushmore? Nope. 38. Is it just me, or was The Marine(w/John Cena) a really horrible movie? Who made this up? 39. Are surveys like the cocaine of myspace? You're stretching here, buddy. 40. Where is your favorite place ? Anywhere underneath starry starry skies. That's just one option, but I don't want to list. I'm bored. 41. What is your favorite candle scent? Something very weak. Not flowery. That overpowering stuff drives a gal crazy. 42. Do you believe places can really be haunted? Not in a scary way. 44. Have you ever been to NYC or LA? I've spent years in NYC and a couple weeks' time in L.A. I prefer NYC but dig L.A. 45. How many states have you been to where all you saw was the airport? 0 46. Do you think 50 questions is enough? When the questions are in this vein, zero would have been enough. Why am I doing this? I am going to read my book in a minute. That's my reward. 47. Are you currently planning a trip? Yes. Two. Janny is thrilled. 48. Is Ryan Seacrest gay? THIS should answer your question: 49. Do you take anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? One of my daily Migraine meds fits the bill. You see, I take an anti-depressant that has one amazing side effect: sleepiness that will help me sleep through the night without waking up multiple times! This medication is a known drug therapy for us Migraine sufferers--did you know lots of anti-depressants are used to treat Migraines and not just depression? It's true. yip dee dooooo. 50. Have you ever googled your name and found out somebody famous or semi famous has your same name? There is some Scottish nurse with my name. Gross. I'm clearly the best. Currently reading : Paula By Isabel Allende Release date: By 24 April, 1996 5 Comments - 4 Kudos

	SUPER JAN!!	And I love you, boy who gets home from work at 4 AM and looks at my quiz answers before crawling into bed. Tee hee. I like your Damnit-influenced spelling of my name as well. Inventive, he is. Posted by SUPER JAN!! on April 17, 2007 - Tuesday at 9:36 AM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	Hey Lindo look out ur Windo!!	These surveys are pretty random huh....but they are fun when im bored and both my babies are asleep!!!! ---Linda Posted by Hey Lindo look out ur Windo!! on April 17, 2007 - Tuesday at 6:02 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

	Barbara	I have to ask, regarding question #13, who is the girl you are referring to? Honestly, you can tell me. Thanks for a good read, m'dear! :-) Oh, and did I tell you that I went to the *same* HS as Seacrest. Yeah, and my husband was even friendly with him. But you, you've photographic proof of your connection. My, I'm jealous! Posted by Barbara on May 30, 2007 - Wednesday at 5:03 PM [Remove] [Reply to this]

Casey Beth

You and your responses are hilarious and make sleeplessness bearable. Posted by Casey Beth on July 16, 2007 - Monday at 7:52 AM