A Series of Short, Completely Random Thoughts, All of Which Have Everything To Do With Nothing

Everybody on the planet should listen to Elephants, by Rachael Yamagata. Its pretty. Then listen to Pork & Beans, by Weezer. Not as pretty, but still awesome.

Last night it snowed (!), and our power lines blew up. This has never happened before, and unnerved me greatly. My brother just liked the big boom.

When it snows for the first time in quite possibly forever, you have to go out and take pictures. But, because you are a camera snob, you don't have one camera, you have 3 different cameras. One of which, you have to come back in a change the lens 3 times. Which is a total of 5 trips. You also have to shoot manual focus, but can't since your fingers are frozen because, it doesn't get cold; ergo, no need for gloves. So your pictures aren't blurry, they're.....artsy.

Starbucks Signature Hot Chocolate with Caramel and Sea Salt. Say these words and rejoice.

Truffles are yummy.

When my mom knits, she counts her stitches in German. I will never understand this.

Might possibly have to web address for my pictures (other than flickr). I find this hugely exciting, and will update if any progress is made.

I ordered a Fat Cyclist T-Shirt, and wish it would arrive NOW. Cause I want to wear it. NOW.

Also subscribed to Motor Trend Magazine (I can hear you all laughing), and it still hasn't come. The mail system makes me sad.

Winter is a weird season. Alternatively melancholy and nostalgic, happy and cozy, lonely and poignant, thankful and optimistic.

Thats all the creativity I've got.

Moments of Greatness come cascading through my Soul...

I must first start with the warning this post contains a possibly controversial observation. Forgive me if I offend anyone - I do not utter this sentiment with any malice, just reflecting on the world.

With that out of the way, I have begun driving. No, this isn't the statement (family/friends [which is to say, all of you] you can stop with the oh my gosh, clear the streets, alert the media, take cover! jokes. Seriously. Those were old even before they got to me. Let it go!), its the preamble to the statement. Now, I am learning to drive on a manual, which is quite the experience.

Everytime I pull up to an intersection, I get the "Okay, down shift, down shift, come on you dumb light, don't make me *check mirror* start from a dead stop, what if I kill it?! *check mirror* Somebody is coming up behind me, aww crud, its a Porsche, don't stop close to me, stay back stay back stay back I don't want to roll back and hit you!! Okay, light going, didn't kill it, thats good, okay, up shift *check mirror*, get across the intersection, look buddy, I'm a student driver with a clutch, I'm NOT gonna be the first off the line! *check mirror*, ad infinitum.

Approach next intersection. Repeat. Its extremely stressful, but I love it. Its exciting and its new.

Today, however, due to a myriad of events I won't even pretend to comprehend, we had to take my uncles truck. *An aside - what is it with my family and trucks? My dad has one, my mom has one, my brother has one, my uncle has one, my cousin has one...*

Its an automatic.

I know I sound like a complete and utter snob, but seriously.

The only difference between an automatic and a golf cart is turn signals. On top of that downer statement, its nowhere near as fun.

You completely miss out on the fearful anticipation of stopping on a hill, having to perfect the clutch/brake/gas dance, triumphantly shifting beautifully into 6th....er.....I mean... 3rd, the feel of the clutch as you release making your leg shimmy, getting to use BOTH feet, only having 1 hand on the wheel cause the other is on the gear shift.

All that is just too cool, and you miss that in an automatic.

While I appreciate that driving (being a good driver, I should say) still requires awareness, reflexes, quick thinking and a multitude of other skills, you are just missing something fundamental that you can only get with a manual.

You just aren't as involved with the drive, ergo, in my mind, its just not as enjoyable.

I know that the title for this post has little, if nothing, to do with the actual content. But somebody texted that to me the other day, and it made me laugh.

Singles online

You see that everywhere, right?

Now, if we can do that for people, why can't we do that for socks? Everybody has at least 5 socks that don't have a match. So you put your sock online, somebody has the match and ta da! You now have a pair of socks.

Don't know how you decide who gets the socks, but once you get past finding a match that part is trivial.

VOTE

No matter who, what or where you are, you need to vote today.

Also, don't let other people pressure you into revealing how you voted. Its your business, and thats why the booths have the curtains.

So, vote, ya hear me?

Thanks.

'Ello Polly

Hey Universe, it's me, Alice. Just wanted to let you guys in on a little idea I got goin' on. Here goes.

1. When your phone runs out of battery, don't call it dead. Dead things can't be revived. Everybody should say, the phone is out of fuel.

2. Answer to world peace. Kalzones (misspelling intentional). And custard. Danish kalzones made from the best dough ever, white sauce and a bunch of vegetables. Custard is vanilla, with caramel and pretzels. Sounds strange, but it is the best thing ever.

3. Top Gear every night. I don't know about the rest of the world, but that would make me pretty happy.

4. Free Starbucks Signature Hot Chocolates for everybody. Seriously, its foolproof.

5. Recess for kids. Last I heard, recess was headed out the backdoor and thats just wrong.

6. High heels that are comfortable for more than 17.3 minutes. I know thats a big one, but give it a shot.

7. No more Transporter movies. They are just lame. The only possible redeeming factor is he drives an Audi. But still.

8. Another Harry Potter book. Come on, you know you want to....

9. You should drive on a driveway and park on a parkway.

10. Finally, go share some good karma with Fatty. He needs it.

Thanks.

Yesterday I saw the Secret Life Of Bees.

I had started to book earlier that day ( I was about 10pgs in), and my friends had invited me to go. I decided to see it, despite the fact I hadn't finished it. You cannon possibly understand how that pained me, but I persevered. :)

The movie was very well made; good acting, cinematography, score (I found that was one of the most enjoyable parts), story line, ect.

My favorite character was definitely May Boatwright (played by Sophie Okonedo). I won't spoil anything, but the fragility she displayed was beautiful.

Today, I took my book to work & polished off most of it, finishing it at home. Sue Monk Kidd is truly gifted at word craft - within a paragraph I completely understood the tale she was spinning, and what a beautiful tale it is.

Its got tragedy, comedy, examples of entrapment and examples of release. My copy (which is actually my moms copy, but I digress) is full of Post-It notes, marking my favorite lines or most touching moments.

Those who haven't read the book should pick it up, and those who have should read it again. Also, the movie stays very true to the book. You do miss a lot of Lily's (the main character) thoughts, but overall its remarkably on par with the novel. I would highly recommend it.

Quick question: Can you read a book more then once, for enjoyment?

Personally, I have read almost all my books at least twice & I know that I have read one book upwards of 5 times. They are books I love ( thats why I bought them), so I like to re-read them. Its comforting, and its fun to pick up whatever you might have missed the first time.

But just about everybody I talk to rarely reads any book more then once.

What say ye?

Yay or Nay?

Everywhere you go, you will find someone who is either pro or anti to technology.

"Nobody talks face to face anymore"

"Never before has this much information been instantly available"

"Writing good old fashion letters with pen and paper is dying away"

"You can talk to anybody anywhere on Earth, quick as you can blink"

I straddle the fence on this issue, but one definite pro for me: Every time I do something on a computer, a non computer literate person thinks I just solved the ancient human dichotomy (chocolate or vanilla?).

Case in point - I was transferring some documents onto a Mac from a portable USB (the little stick thingy), and used Expose to locate the Finder window I wanted.

Expose is a Mac thing (to the best of my knowledge), where you hit a button on the mouse and all of your windows share the screen. So if you have 10 windows open and you don't want to minimize until you find the one you want, just hit the side of the mouse & ta da, all everything is there.

Now, the man who owned the portable USB had NEVER EVER seen anything like that. Ever. Which is probably why he had me hit the Expose button 3 more times, so he could see what I was doing, because he thought it was the coolest thing since Star Trek: Deep Space Nine aired.

Its so funny how you do something like that, or even just burning a CD, & somebody who has little to no computer knowledge thinks you just re-invented fire, sitting right there at your desk.

No matter what faction you fall into (pro or anti), you have to agree there is some pretty cool perks in the technological world.

This is a piece I did as an English assignment, a looong time ago. I found it while looking for another file, and I remembered how much fun it was to write.





MOVIE REVIEW FOR
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL
A pretty girl. A handsome, brooding boy. A pirate who appears to be drunk at least half of the time. A ancient Aztec curse.

Makings of a flop? Not with Johnny Depp at the helm. Along with Keira Knightley, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom and Jack Davenport, Depp leads (in every sense of the word) the cast of Pirates, one of the most entertaining movies of that summer.

The way Depp trapezes around almost gives you vertigo, although that might just be the residual light headed-ness from laughing at almost everything that comes out of his goateed mouth. While the rest of the cast does their job well (Knightley especially, Bloom questionably), Depp really shines through.

While the movie is long, almost obscenely so, it has comedy, action, romance, and suspense throughout. The story centers around the curse set on the pirates , everyone has a very different view on what to do about it.

William Turner (Bloom), just wants to rescue his true love, Elizabeth Swann(Knightley) from the clutches of the cursed pirates - who think they need her blood to end the curse.

Captain Jack Sparrow (Depp), wants to get his ship back from the pirates that mutinied on him and sailed onward to - unbeknownst to them - the cursed gold.

Captain Barbossa (Rush), the head mutineer and captain of the pirate crew, wants to rid himself of the curse that they have been trying to reverse for the past 10 years.

The problem for Will is that he can only get to Elizabeth through Jack - who is a pirate, the very thing he swears he will never deal with.

Elizabeth has fallen in love with Will and dearly wants to marry him - all she has to do is escape the pirates who want her blood, and even harder, the engagement to Commodore Norrington (Davenport).

Jack knows a secret about Will that could help him get his ship back - but first he needs to "come upon" a ship that can help him get to where Barbossa has laid anchor.

Barbossa needs to lift the curse to regain normal human life - but he needs the last piece of gold and the blood of a former crew member - who happens to be deceased.

All the double crossing, lightening quick deals, and frequent "I thought you were on our side!?" does lose you sometimes, but it all comes together in the end.

The movie is very enjoyable, and it shows that it was thought out. Everything from the score (exquisitely done by Klaus Badlt), cinematography (credit goes to Dariusz Wolski), editing(Stephen Rivkin, Arthur Schmidt, and Craig Wood) and the screenplay ( the amazing Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio) is carefully constructed and plays out in a very satisfying manner.

Overall, the movie is going to be a hit. The audience will be drawn in the the big names (Bloom, Rush, Depp, along with Jonathan Pryce who plays Elizabeths father, Governor Swann), and will stay for the complete entertainment that is Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. 8.5/10

Story People

On Flickr (the photography website that I frequent), when you post pictures you add a title & description. A lot of the people who's photo streams I follow use quotes with the pictures, which is really cool cause you can find some really beautiful literary extracts that way. That is how I found Story People.

Every once in awhile, quirky and poignant quotes would be with a picture, and it was always credited to "Story People". Thanks to the miracle that is Google, I found the Story People website.

Now, I can't say I fully comprehend what its about, but as best I can figure Brian (and I think his wife helps him) is an artist, and with his drawings he affixes short stories & sayings. He also makes sculptures, paintings ect.

As soon as I found the website, I spent 3 days going through every story, some of which made me life and some made me cry. Then I subscribed to to site, so I get a Story everyday. Which makes me happy. I also wrote some out, so I have them taped to my lap top and stuck on my cork board.

Here are some of my many, many favorites:

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I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.


We lay there & looked up at the night sky & she told me about stars called blue squares & red swirls & I told her I'd never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own

She asked me how I felt about eternal life & I said, would I have the same aches & pains I have now because that would factor heavily into my decision


pretty good friends considering they come from completely different backgrounds


A few said they'd be horses. Most said they'd be some sort of cat. My friend said she'd like to come back as a porcupine. I don't like crowds, she said.

He wore a pot on his head in all kinds of weather. I never learned to cook & I got it after my mother died, he said. I just know it would make her happy that I'm using it

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The Eskimo one was the first quote I found, and it is still my absolute favorite.

What is that style of writing called? Poetry? Just short stories?

Whatever it is, I deeply enjoy it.

On a unrelated note, commenting should be much easier. I changed the settings, so feel free to leave a brief hello. When you go to the comment page, click the Name/URL button. It will be the easiest.

For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never Worn.

In the shower this morning, I heard on the radio those 6 words. I almost cried.

Ernest Hemingway wrote that, supposedly for a bet.

There is something un-nameable about it, something that is just so tragic. Maybe its the simplicity - the bare statement of the fact.

It is possible that he meant not for it to be so full of an aching feeling - he could be trying to say it was a boy instead of a girl, a gift never used because of an excess of such items.

But I (and almost everybody who called into the radio) read it as an unspeakable sorrow.

Which is pretty dang depressing for a Thursday morning, lemme tell ya. Nothing puts a damper on your day like hearing that as you shave your legs.

When I Googled it, I came across a blog in which the woman talked briefly about that. She was using it in relation to a news article, where the paper made a challenge; describe your life in 6 words.

What is your 6 letter story?

Heres mine.

"Who'd of guessed I'd be here?"

And, ladies and gentlemen, your Daily Double -

"But I kind of like it"

:-)

Huzz......uh?

Today, I thought to myself (for the record, I rarely think to other people. Talk to other people, sometimes. Think to other people, very very rarely) "I am sooo excited!!"

Now, when I get excited, I don't just get happily apprehensive. My joyous expectancy is rife with whole body quivering, unable to hold a static seated position for longer then .72 seconds, coherent speech becomes difficult, and little to no logical train of thought.

Sometimes, it gets to the point that my excitement causes me to...forget what I was excited for. Sad, I know. Also exceptionally fun. Its adds a lot of creative tension, being that worked up for no reason that you can remember. Good times.

I spent all of today bouncing of the walls, singing meaningless songs with carefree abandon, and now - I kid you not - I can't remember why.

Now usually when that happens, I run through a calender for the day, or upcoming week and that will generally give me a clue. Which is why today, when I ran through that mental calender and came up blank, I was a little frustrated. I mean, being excited for something is only half the fun. I would like my reward please.

So, I ran through the calender out for some months - my brother comes home in September, something exciting in October, and Christmas in December, but thats it. All to far in the future for this degree of ecstaticness; and yes, I just made that word up. I'm that good.

Wish my luck in discovering the source.

J.K. vs Stephenie

I started reading Harry Potter before I could read. My mom read the first 3 books to my brother and I, while we sat on the couch (and begged her to read just another chapter. For the record, she didn't *sniff*).

I started reading Twilight about 6 months ago.

I loved both series, and always shied away from the "Who is the greater author? J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer?" debate. Why can't we love and enjoy them both? They aren't really the same genre, so just let them co-exist without forcing the comparisons on us.

But with the release of Breaking Dawn (SM's final book in the Twilight series), I can't stay neutral anymore. I am officially declaring which camp I fall into. Please do not think I do not love the other camp - I just can't give the whole hearted devotion to the other.

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I loved the first 3 books in the Twilight series, and the Host. I've re-read all of them, and would definitely read them again.


Breaking Dawn (book 4), I would like to just forget it ever happened. I was one of the fans who got the book at 12:01, eagerly awaiting what I thought was going to be an amazing book, and surprising finale to a great series. Yes, it was surprising. But not in a good way.


She contradicted herself in so many ways, the plot was murky and completely random at times. Everything read like it was by a fanfiction author, not her. Her style, her wording wasn't there. What happened?


The only reason I kept reading was the thought that maybe, just maybe, I had been duped. This was a contest winner or something ridiculous like that, and the REAL Breaking Dawn would come after this chapter. Or this one. Or this one....and it never did. I feel no finality, no closure. I feel like I just spent my money on mediocre fanfiction.


The worst thing an author can do (in my opinion) is give the fans everything they want.

Yes, we wanted Bella and Edward to get married. Yes, we wanted Jacob to be happy. We wanted a happy ending. But not like this. Never like this.


**************Spoiler warning********************************************



Don't have Jake imprint on Bella's shouldn't-even-exist-according-to-SMs-own-statements baby. Don't let everybody live! Kill some of characters we love. Yes, in our dreams they all live happily together, but in the books some of them need to die. Give the characters sacrifices, make them suffer. Don't give us utopia - we have that in our heads. Give us reality. We didn't want fluff.


****************End spoiler warning**********************


For me, the series is now and forever a trilogy.

I don't passionately hate the - I don't feel anything. Its just empty.


J.K. Rowling started Harry Potter because "he just walked into my head, fully formed". She was a single mother living on welfare at the time. She sent the manuscript out dozens of times, until she finally got accepted by Bloomsbury, a small London publisher.

When the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, was released, J.K. stated "People are either going to love it or despise it". She was right. They were either going to love it or hate it because she choose a "camp" and stuck to it (I loved it). There was no flip flopping, no 180 degree turns. Yes, there was a couple plot twists, but not with the same degree of wackiness as Breaking Dawn. Nor the regularity.

She stuck to her guns. Even though people wanted some things to happen differently, she never swayed. And no matter what you think of the book, or even the series as a whole, you have to respect her for that.

So, the long and short of it is - J.K. Rowling all the way.

Thank you

This past weekend I attended a family reunion.

It was the big one, with all the cousins coming from all over the US. We gathered at my grandparents house, where we would car pool to whatever activity was on the schedule, or just sit and talk.

I haven't seen some of my close cousins in 2-3 years, so it was great to see what they were up to (mainly school and work) and talk about the summers my brother and I used to spend with them. It was also interesting to talk to all my relatives, because after the usual "Hi, how have you been? So good to see you" ect., they would say "I read your blog. Why haven't you posted in a while?".

Umm.....

Any excuse I make would be a moot point - I have the time. Just sometimes can't find the motivation; if there is one thing I abhor, it is weak material. If I can't take pride in what I'm writing, then I won't publish it. That would discredit myself and insult the readers (anybody who has read Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer knows exactly what I'm talking about).

However, now that I know that people are awaiting my thoughts, I will double my efforts.

I am truly honored and touched that people read and enjoy this blog; it was started on a whim, just an idle pastime where I could use really big words and type a lot (I love the sound that keyboards make). My family and friends didn't have to ask me next time I would post - I didn't know they even read it.

So thanks. It's really cool that you look forward to what I write.

The Dark Knight

Amazing. Amazing and beautiful and not quite as terrifying as I thought it would be. I was really expecting absolute terror. Suspense, absolutely. Terror, occasionally.

We ordered tickets on Fandango, which was a good thing. There was a line about 30 people long inside the theatre, but we just walked right in (and then to the concession stand, where my friend got Muddy Bears - chocolate covered gummy bears. Ewwww). Sat through the commercials. The person reeling the commercials must have been sleeping through that bit because we got a commercial for, guess what? The Dark Knight.

Overall, the movie was very very good. It was pretty long, and about 2/3 through it seemed to stop then start again. I still loved it.

There was quite a bit of violence, and lots of pretty explosions. The violence was pretty crucial to the movie, but I bet they could have cut some out. Maybe not a lot, but some. The explosions were awesome though.

One of the saddest parts was when *********very very minor spoiler warning***************




he crashed his Lamborghini. There was a bit of angst (which I naysayed with perverse vigor) but it really worked in this.

Ah, the Joker. Psychotic and brilliant. I've never seen Nickelson's (I spelled that wrong. I know it), but I don't see how he could be any better then Ledger. Every little mannerism was so well executed, every word delivered with unbalanced fervor. What makes him so disturbing is the unpredictability in which he goes about. You think he is going to do one thing, but he does the opposite. He makes blinking freaky.

Watch out for the pencil trick. Thats just wrong.

I would definitely recommend it and I am going to see it again. And buy the DVD.

The Dark Knight and White bug hybrids

Tomorrow, I go to see the Dark Knight. And I'm pretty excited. Super duper excited one might say.

I have a question. Can spiders and scorpions breed?

Because today under my desk, on my shoe (my feet were thankfully not in my shoes at this point) was a spider/scorpion thing. Its body was a little smaller then a credit card, and it had more then 4 legs. I can't tell you exactly how many because I sure has anything wasn't going to lean down and look. The weirdest thing was the color.

It was a smoky white-ish color. And if it hadn't been for the lack of a tail and possibly leg count (again, I didn't investigate very closely) it would have been one big spider. But it was built lower, more like a scorpion. I'm not sure as to whether it had pincers though.

I didn't have my camera, so I couldn't take a picture.

Is there any possibility that a medium sized spider and a medium sized scorpion had a love child?

Speaking of hybrids, Porsche is coming out with a hybrid 4 door. You can choose from a 3.6L V6, 4.8L V8 and 4.8L Turbo (with 300, 405 and 520 respective bhp). Porsche is also allowing you to outfit your Panamera with a 3.6L V6 engine, paired with a 110hp electric motor. Aesthetically, it looks like a 911 with 2 extra doors. More doors, but just as lovely.

Ya, its freakin awesome.

OMG!!

How could I have forgotten? It's just pitiful...

So You Think You Can Dance Season 4 has begun. Actually, it began a while back, but it just now occurred to me I should review like it did Dancing with the Stars. So, with no further adieu, your contestants!

THE GIRLS

Chelsea Hightower: If she is not in the finals, I will shoot my foot. Started as a ballroom dancer, is now doing everything and doing it very very well. Her hip hop routine gives me the chills. In the video, 3:06, 3:31, 4:06 and 4:12 are my favorite moments. Whats so intriguing about her is how she turns into a completely different person on stage. You see rehearsal/backstage footage and she is your average 18 year old. Put her on stage and she is on fire. Amazing talent.

Comfort Fedoke: A hip hop/popper. Coming from her style, with limited formal training she is good. At this point in the competition though, she just isn't consistent enough. She goes up and then down. I do enjoy watching her dance, but not enough to vote.

Courtney Galiano: Her audition was amazing, and most of her performances have been as well. Her solo last week seemed a little desperate and over done, but other then that a steady stream of good. Trained in contemporary, she has handled the other styles with success. Except for the disco. But nobody every does the disco good, so there you go.

Jessica King: Another contemporary dancer. On the fence about her. While I can see that she has the potential to be a great dancer, at this point she is only good. Psychologically, she needs to let go and just dance. I think the problem is her partner Will is always getting unreal praise (he is a good dancer) and because she is not on the same level she is having a hard time bringing herself up there. Alone, I believe she could do it. Since she has the added pressure of constantly being compared to Will, she is struggling. Which may or may not have made sense.

Katee Shean: Really unsure about her in the beginning. Her attitude just wasn't hitting me right. But now, so glad they kept her. A contemporary dancer (is anybody seeing a theme?) who has been killing every style thrown her way. Another fantastically versatile dancer.

Kherington Payne: LOVE her. Lovelovelovelove. Yet another contemporary dancer who can blow everybody away. Her personality is so well suited for dance/performing and she just lights the whole place up. Every week exceptional performances. Lovelovelove. To top it off, she has super cute hair.

THE BOYS

Gev Manoukian: A break dancer from Kazakhstan. Whats surprising about him is that his contemporary/Broadway dances were amazing, but his hip hop was only ok. I do really enjoy watching him though, which is something more technically skilled dancers don't always have.

Joshua Allen: Another break dancer who is good at contemporary. Unlike Gev however, this one has had formal training. Partnered with Katee, every week they deliver excellent performances. Will definitely go a loooong way.

Mark Kanemura: My one of my favorite male dancer's in this season. No, not just because he did his solo to "Bohemian Rhapsody". He's just so quirky and off the wall. I love it. A contemporary dancer who did an awesome jazz routine. Love him so much.

Thayne Jasperson: None of his performances have been particularly good or memorable for me. Which means I can't critique him, because I haven't watched him enough. He just blends in to well, nothing sets him apart. Sorry Thayne :-(

Twitch Boss: Auditioned last year, got beat out by Hok (who is amazing). Soooo happy he came back! His personality and talent are out of this world. My other favorite male dancer in this season. Absolutely breath taking.

Will Wingfield: Everybody just adores him. He is a very beautiful dancer, you can't deny it. But he doesn't reach me emotionally the same way Twitch and Mark do. He seems...closed off. Just not a huge fan of his. Like, not love him.

OVERALL
This is a great season, shaping up to be a fantastic finale. Can't wait to see who wins!! Very pleased with all of this years dancers who made it on, and absolutely adore the new choreographers Tabitha and Napoleon.

Um, what?

Do you ever have one of those moments where you stop and think "How the heck did I end up here?".

The guy on TV is having one right this second. His life journey has led him to film grizzly bears as they hunt salmon (or whatever grizzly bears hunt for in rivers.). Which would be fantastic if he had a wide angle or zoom lens. But since he couldn't afford to get one because the flight is expensive, he just has your normal run of the mill lens. Forcing him to stand in the river. Right up next to the bears. Closer then any sane person should be. I hope his mom doesn't see that.

(that part about not being able to buy a wide angle or zoom lens for his camera because of transportation costs was facetious. but really, why else would you willingly stand in a river with grizzly bears??)

I had a moment like that early last year (I have those all the time). My old (as in former. he was 28 in September, so he couldn't be any other kind of old) teacher was demonstrating how my knees should be when I did the time step. Since I don't have hyper extending knees, they didn't (and don't) like to go that straight. Which is how I ended up standing in front of a mirror at a ballroom dance studio with a 28 year old Ukrainian man pushing my knees back in the time of International Cha Cha. Weird, eh?

I get to use the term "eh?" because I have 2 new friends from Canada, and they say that all the time. And by my sick psychological reasoning, that means I get to say "eh?".

Brilliant, eh?

In all the buzz to make robots that can think and function like humans, I think we first need to work out a few bugs with every day electronic devices.

Take my phone for example. It hasn't been charged in a while, so its dying. No, if it were a person (assume this person is quickly bleeding out), it would say "Help, I'm dying!" once, and then go on with its life. Or death.

But my phone, a piece of technological equipment that allows me to talk to people across the country (instantly), text people, buy ring tones from online... (and this is just an average Samsung flip phone. Think of all the things an iPhone can do), my phone is an idiot. Instead of being a good person and just announcing once its imminent doom, it keeps lighting up(the screen. not a cigarette.) and giving a little duh da ling! to let me know its dying.

Just how many people do you see sit up (while they are dying, remember), give a little whistle and say "I'm dying!". Then repeat the process once every minute, whilst blood is gushing out their femoral artery.

Not very many.

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Taken in a place with no name (See more photos or videos here)

The way to find out about happiness is to keep your mind on those moments when you feel most happy, when you are really happy — not excited, not just thrilled, but deeply happy. This requires a little bit of self-analysis. What is it that makes you happy? Stay with it, no matter what people tell you. This is what is called following your bliss.” ~ Joseph Campbell

Recently I have been thinking about my life and future. Where do I want to go, what do I want to do, what is important to me now and what has taken the backseat.

It's somewhat of a scary thing to realize that what you thought was absolute fact in your life, is not. What you thought you would give your life to, you are no longer willing to take that jump. Like you took all the fan fare, lights and paraphernalia away and are now looking at the bare fact.

I don't know if that is why I haven't been blogging recently, but it definitely has something to do with it. Its hard to write about what you see and believe in life when your vision and beliefs are being considered at a new angle.

But one the bright side, Dad is doing great, my summer job is going swimmingly and my Mom still makes kill scrambled eggs.

:-)

Go check out my cousins blog here!

Prior to the release of Pride and Prejudice (the version with Keira Knightley), I decided to read the book. It was heralded as one of the great love stories, so it must be a good read. I read it. I hated it. The plot was confusing and only vaguely explained, it was hard to differentiate the characters, and the punctuation was almost unreadable (and yes, I am aware it was written who knows how long ago, when writing and such was completely different. But it was just moronic the amount of ; : ' " ! ? that were thrown in there).

So I had low expectations when I got Wuthering Heights from the library. Boy was I ever wrong. The plot was great (if morbid), the characters were well explained, and dialog was downright hilarious at times (other times it was so romantic and touching. Shoot, sappy again. IRON MAN!) and the book was over all very good. I loved it.

The next book in my bag is Jane Eyre, which is another love story. Love stories are pretty popular in the classic section. Following my conclusion of the book, I shall chuck in my 2 cents.

You know how I love to chuck in my 2 cents.

My life. My card.

My name: Alice

childhood ambition: Princess fairy bride

fondest memory: the few days I spent in Switzerland

wildest dream: living in the star wars universe

proudest moment: hearing some of the responses to my blog

biggest challenge: these past 6 weeks

perfect day: a good book, a great camera and my family and friends.

indulgence: i have to list one, don't i? ice cream

last purchase: eclipse special edition

inspiration: my parents

My life: is coming along swimmingly

My card: American Express


No, I don't have an American Express card but I love their advertising. Which is why I did this. Also, check out the picture I added with it.

National Parents Day; Iron Man

I declare today National Parents Day. Since I have a lot of pull at the Committee Who Decides National Holidays, I can do that. It is set for today, because it is the day right in between Mothers and Fathers Day (I think).

Because I am just plain awesome, I am making this interactive. I say what I'm grateful for about my parents, and in the comments you put what your grateful for. It doesn't have to be a lot, just "Thanks mom for making me pancakes", "Thanks dad for driving my silly self to baseball practice 5 nights a week" will suffice. Or, better yet, just tell your parents. The chances of them seeing my comments are astronomical, so that might be a better plan.

Since I am dead positive that 4 out of my 5 readers are adults, you might have different things your grateful for. But the idea still stands.

To those who might be saying "but Alice, they know we love them, why must we go through this silly practice?", I say this: you say (or at least you should) thank you to the bag boy at the grocery store, the stranger who holds the door, the ticket seller at the movie theater, the waiter at the restaurant. But do you remember the last time you thanked your parents for bringing you into this world? Don't even think about "just telling them tomorrow". Life is to unstable for waiting. You just can't know when something horrible, like a motorcycle accident, might happen.

Thanks Mom for driving me to dance 5 nights a week. For letting me cut and color my hair countless times, allowing me to experiment with make-up and clothes. For supporting my decision to buy a laptop, allowing me to work for it. Teaching me the desire to learn, giving me the tools to teach myself, rather then being fed information. Taking me to see the dolphins, walking to the park, helping me pack when I decided to run away, schlepping us kids all over town, reading me Harry Potter, picking me up at a friends at midnight, spending hours at the library. For being a great Mom.

Dad, thanks for sharing your love of the motorcycle with me. For letting me (and my brother) form and develop our own opinions and thoughts. For the countless debates and discussions that we had around our table. For catching me every time I jumped off whatever high surface you set me on, and dancing with me after you came home from work. All those years of Scare Em, those books you sped read and then threw under the couch, the time you tried to teach me long division when I was 6, taking us to Peter Piper Pizza when Mom was at work, sharing your love of music. Most of all, thank you for being an amazing Dad.

Before it gets to sappy (it might have already), lets talk about Iron Man. Everybody should go see it. Right now. Stop reading this and go to the theater. I have already seen it 3 times, but if you need company I will gladly go with you. The movie is amazing. I can't remember if I have already blogged about it, so thats all I'm gonna say.

You see, thats the problem with not blogging for weeks. You forget what you have already said. Which is a problem, because you run the risk of repeating yourself. But I seem to remember saying something about Robert Downey Jr.'s amazingness..... Well, you get the point.

Now please excuse me while I try and remember what I blogged previously.

UPDATE: I did blog about Iron Man! So glad I figured that out. I stand by my earlier statement of going to see it, but perhaps more vigorously. The more I see it the more I love it, I tell ya. Also, I would like to take a sentence to let my friend who checks for updates, and was continually disappointed I hadn't posted anything: I shall be writing more frequently now since life has settled down a bit, and thank you for being my friend and reading whatever my convoluted mind can excrete. Great magical mushrooms, its sappy again. IRON MAN!! IRON MAN!! IRON MAN!!

Top Gear

Is the funniest car show ever. 3 British guys and a bunch of awesome (and awful) cars. They review cars, take road trips (drove to the North Pole, drove through the USA South, made a trip across Africa), and play car soccer. I don't know what channel it is on (BBC, but I don't know how to get it in America). I just watch it on YouTube. Highly recommended.

I say that because my friend challenged me to find cars I like and could afford. And while I can see the reasoning behind that (how many people have 1.3 million laying around to splurge on a Bugatti Veyron?), there is no real reason I should limit myself. Why couldn't I get a Lotus, or Audi? I can't remember exactly who said it, but "The only thing stopping you from your dreams is yourself". If thats what I want, there is no logical reason as to why I can't one day own a Lotus Exige S 240, or an Audi R8.

For the record, I would take a Volkswagen Rabbit or Jetta, (starting new at 15,600 and 16,990 respectively) a Toyota Prius (starting new at 21,500), or a Honda Fit (starts at 13, 590). Just while I'm waiting, though.

And while all that is just grand, one of the happiest things I will ever see in my life is this -



(in case the picture quality is to poor, that is my dad. In his chair, at our house.)

I don't know that I will ever find a car that compares to that.

But I'm not opposed to looking.

Cue manical laughter

Folks, I had a fantastic weekend. I renewed my love for Apple, regenerated my love for AC/DC, fell in love with a wonderful book, and lost myself utterly and completely in an amazing movie. To top it of, I found some new pretty cars. Does it get better? No, my gentle readers, it does not.

I will start with my book. It's called The Host, by Stephenie Meyer (the woman writing the Twilight series). I am a huge fan of Twilight, and really doubted that she could equal or top herself. Never have I been so happy to be proven wrong. It started a little slow, but picked up and was completely gripping. The characters were very well written, the plot was intricate, it was morally intriguing, and was thrilling until the very last page. The Host takes the cake for best book I have read in quite awhile. (It's a science fiction book)

Aw, AC/DC. I was never really a big fan, but as of recently I have been craving the drums and crazy guitar. So, my new favorite AC/DC songs are Back in Black and Hells Bells (sorry Mom).

Now, the movie. Yesterday my friend's mom called. Her son wanted to see Iron Man, but she didn't want him to go alone, and his sister (my friend) would go if I went. Did I want to? I said sure, and we made a plan to see the 1:00 showing. Earlier I had been planning on seeing it with my brother, but it couldn't hurt to go now.

It was so good. Robert Downey Jr. was amazing and had a lot of fun in his role of Tony Stark/Iron Man. It didn't hurt that he is pretty easy to look at. The supporting cast (Jeff Bridges, Gwyneth Paltrow and Terrance Howard) did a superb job. The score was very well done, keeping with the tone of the movie (lots of heavy guitar and drums, ya!), CGI was not stupidly over the top, the dialog was witty and entertaining, with minimal cheesy-ness. It was a "guy" movie in some ways, i.e. lots of blowing things up, fast cars, fighting, ect. Personally, I like the blowing stuff up and fast cars, so it was all good. Over all, it was a first class movie. Which is why, when my brother got home that very same day, I hustled him to the 7:30 show. It was just as amazing the second time around.

Which leads me to the cars. Oh, they were pretty. And so, so fast. I got these cars from Iron Man. First, the Saleen S7. Capable of over 200 mph, 0-60 in under 3 seconds and, unless I am very much mistaken, 750 bhp. This is the orange car in Tony's garage. $395,000

The Audi R8. Oh my goodness. It's yummy. 420hp, 0-62 in 4.6 seconds, manual 6 speed transmission, top speed of 187mph, and leather interior. Its sleek, its fast, and it starts at $109,000. A friend once asked me if I had a dream car. I think this just might qualify. This car in the movie is driven a lot of places. It is silver with black side panels.

The Telsa Roadster. Any car that has pictures for the "exterior" and the "cockpit" has to be cool. And this is no exception. The 2008 Telsa Roadster is the first 100% electric sports car, going from 0-60 in 3.9 seconds, 248hp peak, top speed of 125mph, and it has heated seats. Inspired by the Lotus Elise, with design help from Lotus cars. My favorite thing about this car is it's electric. That just tickles me no end. $98,000

Bugatti Veyron 16.4. Holy cow. 1,001 total hp (this information is coming from the Bugatti website), with a top speed of over 400km per hour (thats 248 mph), 0-62 in 2.5 seconds. German made, it has a price tag of $1.3 million.

Lamborghini Revneton. Inspired by the F-22 Raptor, 650hp, 0-60 in 3.5 seconds. It apparently comes with a built in G-Force meter. I can't decide if that is necessary or aesthetic. $1.54600 million dollars.

Whew. Well, that is just about all that has happened as of recently, so I am now going to read my Discover magazine. Good day, and good luck.

Surprises and spiders

Last night I typed up a post. I hit Publish, and then went on to check my mail, mess around on iTunes, pick gunk from under my nails, ect. The stuff everybody does after blogging. So imagine my surprise this morning when I opened up my blog and found my new entry wasn't there. My question is - why do you do this to me, Blogspot? I hit Publish and you thumb your nose in my direction and cry out "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!" (name that movie reference).

Since Dad has not yet deemed us worthy and continues his stint in ICU, Mom is with him a lot. That means I have to up my self sufficent-ness. An example.

I really hate spiders. It might have been mentioned before. So yesterday, when I walked into the hall and saw a brown spider, I just about joined Dad in ICU with a heart attack. Or respiratory arrest. Probably both. But I digress.

My first thought was to kill the thing. It wasn't that big, and if I could find a tennis shoes it'd be even smaller (I think I hear environmentalists gasping in shock). Subsequent to that idea was "Mom would fillet me". Being health conscious as I am, I tried to think of a different plan. The best scheme I could come up was to put a cup over it and wait for somebody to take it away.

I put the cup on it, and went into the kitchen, succumbing to the shivers of fear and revulsion. Ya, I'm brave. After about 20 seconds, it occurred to me that spiders could squeeze through really small cracks. Like the crack between the cup and wood floor. Wait, wasn't that cockroaches? No, it must have been spiders. Roaches could survive huge amounts of radiation (100 times the lethal dose for a human), but spiders could get under stuff. I think. Um....

Not wanting to take any chance of the little booger escaping, I put a huge book on top of the make shift prison cell. Secure in my victory, I strutted back to the kitchen. Which is about when it struck me that a savior might not come back for quite some time. As in hours, not minutes. There was no way I was going to let that thing defile my good floor but sitting for hours. It would probably poop or something.

After sucking it up, I got a piece of paper (the nice kind, not the flimsy kind). It took me 4 tries to get the paper under the cup (couldn't risk an escape), and flip it all over. Once I finished squealing, I shuffled outside, walking 50 feet. The mailbox was the chosen release point, and as soon as the deed was down and the spider gently chucked, I ran back to the house.

Aren't you all glad I started a blog to share my scary spider stories with you? I know I am.

Dreaming

I was going to post something not related to my dads accident, but that is whats going on in my life right now.
Human brains are funny (at least mine is).

I can now talk about him and not tear up, but seeing his closet, or holding my dance teachers hand makes me sad. His closet just smells so much like him, it's like running into a wall of Dad. My dance teacher has hands the same size as Dad, so holding his hands is like holding Dads, which makes me miss him.

I really want him to wake up, not because I want to hug him, but I want him to hug me. Nobody else hugs like my dad, and its been a week since I've had a Dad hug.

Weird things make me think of him. When somebody talks about Myspace, I think of him. Rope, certain pillows, going to a restaurant and hearing someone ask for hot sauce, little quirks my uncles have that are exactly like Dads, all those things make my throat tighten.

Every time we eat out on the patio, my dad is the last one back in the house. So, last night when my uncle came through the door a couple minutes later than everybody else, I almost opened my mouth and fired out some witticism aimed at Dad. Then I saw it was Mark, not Matt. It was like missing the last step on a staircase. You step down and for a split second think you've got it, then comes the sick sensation of an unplanned drop, then the hit.

Everything is slowly going back to normal. The mail keeps coming, the paper continues to be delivered, and Mom still has to go to the grocery store. My brother still goes to school, I got spacers (in preparation for braces) on yesterday, and now my mouth hurts like nobody's business.

Apologies must be offered regarding the lack of posts this last week. It was pretty crazy, but I could have tossed out a short entry. So, I am sorry about that.

Yesterday

When I first saw Pirates of the Caribbean, I was terrified. It took me about a year and a half before I could really get over it and enjoy the movie.

But as scary as that was, it was nothing compared to getting a phone call from your mom, saying your dad got in a motorcycle accident, and is at the hospital.

Yesterday at 8:30am the phone rang, and it was Mom. She made some small talk, than dropped the bomb. "Honey, Dad got in a accident on the way to work. Someone wrecked into his motorcycle, but he's going to be okay." Even hearing "but he's going to be okay", I was scared. What if he wasn't? What if he couldn't walk again, or got hit hard in the head? An hour later, we went down to the hospital to see how he was.

First let me say, everything is fixable. He will eventually make a full recovery, according to what we know. He is going to be okay.

He had broken multiple ribs, twisted and broken at least one wrist, bruised his lung, broken his tibia, fractured his femur in 2 places, cracked where the femur meets the hip in 5 places and his kidneys have shut down right now (they don't like being in motorcycle accidents).

Yesterday afternoon we saw him, he talked to us for a little bit before his nurse told him to shut up and go to sleep. I really like her .He went into surgery a couple hours after we left, to fix his legs and wrists. The surgery went fine, and right now he is resting. When I called the hospital this morning, the nurse said he was on a ventilator and dialysis. The ventilator is because of the bruised lung; he can't yet oxygenate well enough on his own, the dialysis for the kidneys.

After my mom called, I called a bunch of friends and family, letting them now what happened. My uncle and three friends joined us at the hospital that afternoon, and when we went back later my uncle and another friend were there.

We just got home from the hospital, and there is no change really. He was hooked up to a bunch of tubes (including the dialysis and ventilator) and was lightly sedated. He couldn't talk, but he did open his eyes.

During the past 36 hours, we have received more phone calls than we would have gotten all week. People calling to make sure we were ok, did we need food, a ride, someone to talk to, anything at all. I cannot accurately describe how much that support was welcomed. It feels so good to know that everybody is hoping for the best, for him and us. You know who you are, and we cannot thank you enough.

Now we are to the waiting game.

I will post when we know something else. Thank you all so much for everything.

These are a view of my favorite things...

Okay, I figure since I bemoaned the wind yesterday, today I shall give you happy things! This is but a small list of things I love, but a small contribution of joy is better than none (that or its then. I can never remember). This is in no particular order whatsoever. The only reason it is organized in such a fashion is because it popped into my head that way.

1. Mexican cookies. I don't know if they actually came from Mexico, but they are beyond good.
2. Mexican cookie dough.
   
3. My moms perfume. It smells like vanilla.
4. Remembering my friend convincing my other (apparently gullible) friend to try some straight vanilla.
5. Remembering the time I spent in LA with my friends at a ballroom competition.
   
6. My doggies.
   
7. My Macbook.
8. Harry Potter
9. Star Wars
10. Twilight (the book series)
11. All my books, pretty much.
    
12. Wearing mismatched socks.
13. Painting my nails different colors.
    
14. Shopping.
    
15. Reading.
    
16. Chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting.
    
17. Reading.
    
18. Talking to my friend about Dancing with the Stars and American Idol.
19. Getting dressed up and going somewhere.
20. Riding the motorcycle with my dad.
    
21. This motorcycle.
    
22. And this one.
23. And this one.
    
24. And maybe this one. Sorry mom.
25. Dancing.
    

Well, that concludes the list - for now insert maniacal laughter here. Again a short post, but I am a bit sleepy (and now thinking of motorcycles) so my train of thought is going nowhere fast. Night night!

An Epitome

As I vaguely mentioned in another post, I dislike the wind. Rather vehemently. But I could never figure out why. It was a little frustrating to know you abhor something, but not be able to put it into words. As much as I talk, not being able to put something into words is a serious tragedy.

But fear not! My intellect has pulled through (even if my humility could not) yet again, and I am now able to the fullest extent describe my passionate distaste for the element.

It's rude. The wind is ill-mannered and brusque. It pulls your hair, musses your picnic plans, makes a racket when you try to sleep, chucks dirt and other debris everywhere, makes swimming pretty miserable, blows your lawn furniture over and brings a sudden halt to your ping pong game.

Does it need to do that? No, it could just be a gentle breeze, but instead it chooses to rush through in spurts, leaving you indoors clutching your hands together, hoping fervently it goes away soon. It never does. Tricking you, it slows down for 3.46 minutes, than picks up again with a fevered frenzy.

It's like the person who puts gum on the underside of restaurant tables. No one will ever really know for sure who did it, so they never get punished. It irks me.

Also, it should be stated that I have no editor. Nobody except myself looks over the posts before I publish them, which is the reason for typos. I try to catch as many as I can, but it is inevitable that some slip through, especially on a large post, or one that I have rewritten frequently. I go over it so often the slip ups go unnoticed. I have been alerted by various people that I have made errors, and I appreciate that. Just remember I am the only editor.

And finally, the weirdest competition/sport I have ever seen: Worlds Strongest Man competition. It's just plain freaky.

A short post

No time for another lengthy post, because Alvin and the Chipmunks is playing in the other room and it is imperative that I bang my head against the wall, repeatedly and with much vigor.

A thought briefly flitted through my head last night - "Should I beg pardon for yesterdays post? It was pretty lengthy, and most assuredly confusing to those unfamiliar with ancient Greek myths". Than I decided it was my blog, which gives me the right to talk about whatever I choose. So, if you were confused, sorry, but hey, your the one who typed in the address.

As this blog is solely maintained by yours truly, what ever I think about at that moment is what becomes published in cyberspace. It is inevitable that somethings come out garbled. The degree of difficultly which is required to translate thoughts on to paper (or computer) is somewhat higher then I anticipated. It did not occur to me that not everybody would understand each thing that popped out of my cranium.

But hey, you understand most of it (I assume), which excites me no end!

Now please excuse me while I go smash my brain pan against something very solid.

*whapwhapwhapwhapwhap*

Dut-da-daa!! The Olympians!

Ok, today I am going to break down the Olympians (the 6 original gods and the 6 who came later), but first a little back story as to how they came into power.

To dumb it down somewhat, Uranus(the sky) and Gaia (the earth) had 12 children, the Titans. They also had the Cyclopes and the "Hundred Handed Ones", but they aren't crucial to the story.

While the Titans all married each other (I guess they didn't have much choice...), Cronus and Rhea were the "leaders". Cronus was told by his mother, Gaia, that he would sire a child who would overthrow him as ruler of earth.

Being tremendously opposed to that idea, the first time Rhea had a child, he swallowed it. And almost every time there after, he would swallow his children, ensuring he would remain 'king of the hill' forever.

After he swallowed 5 children, Rhea grew weary of watching her babies slide down her husbands throat, and asked her mother for help. Gaia told her next time she had a child, hide it on the far side of the world, and present her husband with a swaddled up rock. Rhea did just that, and thus Zeus was spared from having to slosh around in his fathers stomach acid (thats a wonderful image, isn't it?).

When Zeus grew strong enough, he decided it was time for him to reunite with his siblings and usurp his father. He asked Gaia and Rhea to help bring his siblings "back from the bile". Gaia gave Rhea a herb and told her to mix it into Cronus's drink, for the herb would make him regurgitate all his children right back out (whole new meaning to projectile vomit).

Rhea mixed the drink, and Cronus urped up his offspring. Following that, Zeus and his siblings engaged with the Titans in a battle, the winner gaining control of everything (fun), the loser spending the rest of eternity in Tartarus (not fun).

In the end, Cronus and the other Titans were defeated (except the few who helped the Olympians) and sent to Tartarus.

That was how the Olympians came into power. Now, for the promised break down (bom chika bom chika laka boo bang bop! get it? break down? beat boxing, break dancing? never mind...).

Zeus, King of the Universe, god of sky, thunder and justice. He honestly irks me no end. Yes, he over threw his evil father, rescued his sibs, blah blah blah. You read any tale or story about him, and he always has some consort or lover. Despite the fact he is married. He is also obnoxiously cantankerous, and if anybody so much as looks at him wrong (i.e. men don't worship him, women don't lust after him), he nails you with a thunderbolt. Thats just rude.


Hera, Queen of the Gods, goddess of women, marriage and motherhood. Became Zeus's bride when he created a thunderstorm and turned into a little cuckoo, flying right into her open arms. I don't know how that amounts to "Yes, I'll marry you!", but it apparently does. She has her bad moments, and the occasional good ones. She is pretty entertaining, however, and very creative when it comes to punishments for Zeus's various mistresses. Sometimes comes off as cruel, but I believe her to be intriguing.


Poseidon, god of the sea, horses and earthquakes. Shortly after the city was built, the came time for Athens to pick a patron god. Poseidon wanted it, but Athena also showed interest. It was decided the fairest way to determine who would become patron of the city was for each god to give the people something, and let them decide which was more useful. Poseidon struck the ground with is trident, and up came a spring of water, but it was salt water and had little use for the city. Athena gave the citizens an olive tree, from which they could gather food, oil and wood. It was decided by the people that Athena's gift was more useful, and she was named patron of the city. Poseidon is also believed to be father to the hero Theseus.


Demeter, goddess of agriculture, nature and the seasons. Mother of Persephone, Queen of the Underworld. I am pretty luke warm about her. The only story I can remember off the top of my head about her is when Persephone was kidnapped by Hades. She was depressed and distraught so much so that she neglected to help the crops grow, and as a result a famine settled across the world. Eventually the Earth was in such a state of disrepair that Zeus had to force Hades to give Demeter back her daughter to prevent human being wiped out by hunger. Hades agreed, but Persephone had to go and live with him for 6 months out of the year, because she ate while in the Underworld (if anybody ate in the Underworld, they would have to come back, rather snappish like). That, according to Greek myth, is why we have the seasons. Spring and summer is when Demeter is with her daughter, but in fall and winter Persephone is with Hades, while her mother mourns and neglects the earth above.


Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home. I love her. She is very quiet and calm, never doing crazy things like causing plagues and kidnapping people. Another point in her favor, she selflessly gave up her chair on Mount Olympus so Dionysus may sit among them, and took up her seat by the hearth.


Hades, Lord of the Dead, god of the Underworld and wealth. Husband of Persephone and all around awesome god. He has a bad reputation because of the whole "god of the Underworld" thing, which is often jumbled up, giving people the impression he is the god of death. That is erroneous, as Thanatos is the personification of Life and Death, not Hades. It has been asserted that he tricked Persephone into eating in the Underworld, while others argue that she fell in love and ate to ensure her return.

Well, now that I throughly and completely confused bored you all (I think there are six of you) and just generally ranted, I shall take my leave. Tomorrow (or the next day) I will finish up the Olympians, but at this moment I have developed a severe case of the hiccups, and this must be immediately remedied.

Orpheus and Eurydice

When we were little, my mother had a set of 4 tapes, on which classic Greek myths were recorded. My brother and I used to listen to those for hours on end. Everytime we got in the car, the tape of Greek myths was played. It was a ritual. As a result of that, I have the Greek gods, demi-gods and some very lucky (or unlucky mortals) ingrained upon my memory.

One of my most memorable stories was the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.

(or-fi-us and yoo-RID-i-see)

Orpheus was the son of Calliope (the muse of epic poetry) and a mortal king. It was said that the music he played on his lyre, along with the songs he sang could make a rock weep with the beauty of it, and everywhere he went creatures would come to hear him play. The most famous of his exploits began on his wedding day.

He was married to Eurydice, the love of his life. He couldn't be happier, and neither could she. On that fateful day, they went to a meadow, where he sat and played his music, watching his lovely wife traipse around, dancing and laughing. In her joy, she never saw the snake that reached up and sank its poisonous jaws into her ankle. She died there, and Orpheus was alone and heartbroken.

Never again did a cheerful song soar forth from his lyre. A happy lyric never again left his lips. He mourned through his music, and the world mourned with him. So sad were he songs that all around him the nymphs and gods wept. When they could no longer stand the grief, they told him to go to the Underworld and beg Hades, lord of the dead and his Queen Persephone to allow Eurydice to come back.

Following their guidance, Orpheus traveled to the Underworld and by his music persuaded Hades to release Eurydice. Hades only had one condition: You may not look upon your wife until you have reached the land of the living, or else she stays forever. Orpheus agreed, and set off up the long dark passage, playing his music softly all the way. He could see the light from the outside world, and could feel a gentle puff of warm air, when he thought he heard somebody stumble. But when he turned to look, the only thing he saw was Eurydice, now slowly retreating back into the darkness, now forever lost to him.

According to some accounts, Orpheus later was ripped to pieces by followers of Dionysus (god of wine) when he scorned their rituals. I prefer to think that he wandered the world, forgetting to eat and drink, only playing his melancholy music until he wasted away. Not as dramatic, and perhaps more depressing, but more romantic.

There is also alternate beginnings and facts; Eurydice was fleeing from Aristaeus, and stumbled on a nest of snakes and Orpheus was the son of Apollo (god of music and healing) and Calliope. However, this is the version I have heard since I was 3, and it's my favorite.

Join me tomorrow for a break down of the Olympians!

When it gets hot, I get cranky

Very, very cranky. Which is really stupid, considering that in the summer here it can easily get to 110 (F). But hey, I like my comfort. My ideal weather would be:

• when I wake up, it should be cool, but not cold.
• during the day, it can get anywhere between warm and hot. Outside. Inside, it must remain at the sweet spot of cool, but not cold.
• when I go to bed, I want it to be cold. Cold, not cool. I want lots of big heavy blankets, so that way I am warm and cuddly while the rest of the world is cold.
  
• then I wake up again, and it will be cool (but not cold) again.
  

Is that really to much to ask? I want that throughout most of the year, except in winter when its cold. Simple, really.

My room faces the southwest side of the house, which means that in the afternoon/late afternoon, it gets hot. And while that is great light for photography, it means that I have to leave my special black out shade up for the light to permeate my room. The heat also permeates, which is really obnoxious.

And that is why todays post is short. I am cranky and am shortly going to relocate my cranky little tokus into my bed, where I will put my fan on high and possibly get myself a cold compress.

I feel I must apologize for the lack of humor, pizazz, and over all entertainment in this post. But honestly, the only thing I can think of is rather creative insults for anybody in my general vicinity. Good night, and tomorrow I can give an iron clad guarantee I will be happier.

( dance lessons tomorrow)

Error

Due to an unknown error on behalf of Blogger, it published my post from today below the post from Thursday. I apologize for that, but cannot, as of yet, seem to remedy it. Please just scroll down to read todays post, or in the archive click on "Pretty Cars". Thank you, Alice

UPDATE I seem to have untangled the little snare, and the new post is where it should be.

Pretty Cars

I have a cousin who has his entire automobile life planned out. He knows where he wants to put his Ferrari's. He needs three (or two, I can't really remember) before he can get the Enzo Ferrari, which is the mother of all Ferrari's. I don't remember the names of the cars he wants, which is a shame cause now I would like to ask him.

As of late however, I have started noticing cars. I can discern which ones I like, and which I don't. A BMW now looks different from a Nissan (something I would never usually notice), and I can tell the difference between a Honda and a Toyota. Shocking, I know. What is more shocking is I know that I like BMWs. I like the Z4 Roadster 3.osi, and it wouldn't hurt to have an M3.

And if we start talking about virtually un-attainable cars, then I want a Lotus Elise SC and Exige S240, (ok, any car on that site would be wonderful), a Ferrari F 430 Spider, Lamborghini Murcielago LP640 (Roadster), Maserati Granturismo S, a Porsche 911 GT3 RS, and a 911 Targa 4S and maybe a Aston Martin Vanquish S. (you must excuse the haphazard hyper linking, it has some issues).

Now, please do not delude your selves into thinking I know something about the inside of those (and any) cars. I can't tell you what the "S" stands for, although I assume it means something technical. I merely yearn for them because they are very beautiful, and go extremely fast. Very, very very fast.

The reason I have begun watching cars, and have slowly become a teensy bit more knowledgeable about them, is purely aesthetic. I like the pretty and fast (and expensive) ones. I can't tell you squat about the tires, rims, engine, horse power, torque, or anything remotely technical. If you need pointed in the direction of someone how can, I might be able to help you. But don't ask me anything about a drive shaft or chassis. ( I got that word off the Lotus website, no clue what it might be related to)

I also like motorcycles. But another time, perhaps for the motorcycles. Now that I have released my list of cars, it might be considered prudent to wait until my mother comes down from the ceiling before I start taking about bikes. Just thinking of her health, you know.

The bane of my existence

I attempt to be a very easy going person. Rarely do I try to force my views on people, and there are only a handful of things I really, really loathe.

Geese are at the very top of the list. Above spiders, heavy winds, Oreo's (thats a great story), and wearing shoes inside. I think my hatred spawns from emotional trauma at a young age. At least, thats what the shrink told me. (Kidding, only kidding. I don't go to a shrink, although anger management might be what I need in the case of those evil white avians.)

When we (my brother and I, along with the kids next door. During the early years we were raised less as humans and more like a small herd of sheep, always lumped together. Any way) were young, my mom used to take us to the park. At this park there was a man made lake, which was stocked with truly pathetic fish my brother used to catch. And where there are parks, water and small, easily frightened young children, there are geese.

I was probably around 3 or 4. I can't remember the exact age, only the mind numbing fear.

It had been decided that feeding the geese bread was the perfect activity with which the young should be entertained. So, our mothers corralled us into the Subaru and off we went, young eyes alight with the prospect of getting up close and personal with nature. If I knew just how close we were going to get, I would have pitched a fit and allowed my self to be sent away.

We arrived and began trundling along on our minuscule legs, thrilled to be at the park getting ready to feed birds. Subsequent to the moms rescue of the boys from a certain meltdown after nearly falling in the lake, we got out the bread and looked around for the (cough*cretinous*cough) geese. While we waited, we chucked little pieces of bread to the kindly pigeons.

And then, they came. Geese, it turns out, are very jealous of pigeons.

Being young and unexperienced in the evils of geese, I held out a piece of bread to the goose nearest me. It, being the epitome of all the is cruel and sadistic in this world, charged me. Maybe it thought I was a rival goose, mocking it (I was about as big as the beast). I don't know, and at that point I really didn't care, because I had a huge white bird with nasty beak that was my height (and probably weight) coming after me, wings aloft and squawking its death squawks. It might (read: mostly likely did not) have landed one peck before Mom came a scared it away, but if you asked me then (and now) I would say the thing mutilated me beyond recognition before it could be dragged away by 3 men who bore a strong resemblance to bouncers.

It might not have been as bad as I make it seem. I could possibly be a little biased. But I still abhor geese with all my heart and soul. Every time I drive by one I mutter profanities under my breath. Ok, I don't mutter profanities (I try very hard not to mutter profanities ever), but if I was that kind of person, I would. Bad ones.

My friend laughs at my absolute fear and hatred. She thinks it was just one little incident a long time ago, and I should just get over it. She doesn't have the image of a ticked off goose charging towards her 4 year old self burned in her mind.

Now that I have shoved my hatred unto you, I am going to play with my new awesometastical Canon Power Shot S5IS (camera). Yay!







I hate geese.

Yippee!!

Ask and you shall receive!! I got 4 comments!!!!! Huzzuh!!

That really does exhilarate me, because that means that I have four readers! But according to the poll I have seven, which means some of you aren't commenting. Disappointing, but easily remedied.

I write this blog on the fly. I never really plan what I am going to write, just sit down at my beautiful computer and look around for outside stimulus. For instance, I wrote the "Dance" post after listening to Led Zeppelin. Which shows that I pretty much have ADOS.

Attention Deficit, Oh Shiny!

This post, as an example, is about to launch into why I love Pocahontas, only because "ask and you shall receive" reminded my of Aladdin, which reminded me of animated Disney movies, which reminded me of my favorite animated movies, which led to Pocahontas.

Do you know see the circular movements of my discombobulated train of thought? You should spend a day in my head. Entertainment.

Back to Pocahontas.

I have loved Pocahontas ever since I can remember.

I planted corn when I was four, so I could run through it like she did (it didn't work, for those of you who are curious.). I carried (and spilled rather spectacularly) clam sauce stuff on my head when I was 5. In roughly 3.2 out of every 5 pictures that exist of me, ages 1 - 7, I have something Pocahontas related on. Just yesterday I carried a bundle of office paper on my head. Come to find out, the skin on your head has a large range of motion.

The only thing I don't like about Pocahontas is John Smith. He's obnoxious, in the second movie he refuses to see she doesn't like him anymore, and dyes his hair. Lame.

Love Meeko (the raccoon) however. And the pug.

Also love the songs. Mine, Mine, Mine is the best one, with Colors of the Wind a close second. Another great song is Be Prepared, from the Lion King (another great movie).

Initially I was going to finish with a rousing reason for why I love the movie so much, but I don't think it can be put into a stirring and firery sentence. I just love it, same way I love Harry Potter, daffodils, my puppy and wearing miss-matched socks. It all just makes me happy.

Which is going to lead to tomorrows post, Harry Potter. See how this goes?

Dance

It has been insinuated in other posts of yours truly that dancing is a part of my life. I now feel that it should be brought to light; freed it from its silence and let the full weight of your opinions come careening down on it. (In case nobody noticed, I feel very very dramatic today).

"But wait Alice," ye gentle readers might be saying, poor little souls tangled in webs of confusion, "we already knew you danced, so why do we need to be told again?". And my lusty retort to that little nugget of wisdom would be, "Because this is my blog, and I can say what ever I dern well want!".

I also take a deep, sadistic pleasure in sharing the trivial details of my life with all (cough-4-cough) of you.

I shall now digress. Maybe. I seem to be on a roll right now, creative brain cells firing on all cylinders, cranking out the goods.

Ok, now I will digress.

I am not a ballerina. Unless you took the 3 months of once a week lessons as qualification for the prima ballerina position.

I am not a jazz dancer. Lessons were taken at a young age, and then for a short time recently, but my asinine (right) knee decided pain was the way to go.

Tap is not up my alley. Used to be, but no longer.

Nay, my good people, I do not break dance, contemporary, lyrical, "pop", hip hop or square dance.

I ballroom dance.

Pretty good too, I am told. Although, it usually has to be stated that I ballroom and Latin dance, since the average citizen does not understand ballroom covers the whole lot of them. A list of the dances I participate in shall now be bestowed upon the readers of this blog, so is to better their understanding of the activity that has consumed, enlightened and brought joy to my life for the past 2 years.

• International Standard Waltz, Foxtrot, Quickstep, Tango, Viennese Waltz
• International Latin Cha Cha, Samba, Rumba, Paso Doble, Jive
• American Smooth Waltz, Foxtrot and Tango
• American Rhythm Cha Cha, Swing, Mambo/Salsa, Rumba, Bolero
• West Coast Swing (the most recent addition, which technically is not a ballroom or Latin dance, but West Coast Swingers tend to to ballroom or Latin and vice versa. So it makes the list because of that and cause it is just plain awesome)

Please feel free to leave something in the comments (hinthinthint) about any questions you might have. Not that I am ever a little murky or vague in my explanations. Nope.

And there you have it, my dancing laid to bare in the presence of you readers scrutiny and subject to your judgment. I hope you have enjoyed this lecture, and come back real soon, ya hear?

To end this post on a comical note, you can Viennese Waltz to Led Zeppelins "Dazed and Confused". How weird is that?


asinine= extremely stupid or foolish
insinuated=imply, suggest, hint
lusty=healthy, robust, powerful
sadistic=brutal, callous, heartless

2.108333

I don't usually like to brag. When given a compliment, I generally say "thank you" and go on, not thinking I am queen of the world now that somebody thinks my cha cha can bring the room down.

It should be noted I utilized the words "usually" and "generally". By definition that means there is some skill or quirk that I am ludicrously proud of, bring up often, and win some bets with.

I'll give you a hint. It is connected to the number above.

Give up?

That is my average page per minute rate. (Ya, thats right, I did the math)

I read at 126.5 pages per hour, or 2.1083 pages per minute. Which is a pretty darn impressive average, if you were to ask my humble self.

There are very few things I take absurd pleasure in more than talking about how fast I read. I can finish almost any book in a day, easy. Most series (Harry Potter, Twilight, Series of Unfortunate Events) can be blown out in a week, more often less.


I say almost because I haven't read War and Peace, and hear it's a whopper.


Mind you, sometimes mediocre "real life" things enter the equation, things like eating, sleeping, school, work, ad nauseum. But I still spank-along pretty fast, and sometimes don't sleep so I can read.

Sometimes this greatness (thats darn right it's greatness) is a burden. It has it's ups and downs. As wonderful as it is to finish a book sometimes days before others, that means: a. You can't talk about it to them, because they are barely half way through. b. Sometimes it's nice just to savor the books, slowly and deliberately.

But mainly I love it (which is the reason for the bragging and strutting), because when it comes to knowing the end of a book, I get pretty impatient. Lest there is any confusion, I would never, ever ever ever skip to the end of a book to see the ending. I might ask a friend if its good or bad, but if I hear of any specifics, there is a one way ticket to Siberia for whoever told me.

The second read (or first re-read), I go more slowly. Just to soak it all up, get more little things that are embedded in the beautiful pages.

With that being said, the bet I won was regarding Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (the final book). A friend, who is a whole time zone ahead of me, bet he could finish before me. I laughed derisively and took the bet. I started reading at 1:30am (yes, I went to midnight release. I left dance and went to the bookstore for 3 hours with a bunch of other HP dorks. One of the best nights of my life, as of yet. But I digress), and finished at 7:30am. I called him to tell him I had completed it, and had to wait for him to awaken from his slumber to answer the phone. He was three chapters from conclusion of the book.

He had called me when I was still waiting to get the book to gloat he already had his copy, and there was no way I could possibly beat him!

I still rub it in his face, occasionally. Just to keep him humble.

Me, on the other hand? I am all the proud I want to be, until somebody usurps me from my position.

I'm not holding my breath.


*The data above is based on reading a 759 page book, Harry Potter 7, in 6 hours.*

Dancing with the Stars!!!

Before I begin my analysis of this season, I must first say that I absolutely love the show. Without question. Well, enough of that, lets move on to nit picking.

Priscilla Presley and Louis Van Amstel. She really surprised me the first week. I thought that she would be one of the couples where you kinda say "Well, they aren't very good, but the are _____". But she was actually very graceful and looks very good on the floor. The thing that irks me about her is she does a funny thing with her head and neck; she pushes them forward a little bit to much for me. Other than that, I really enjoy watching her. Not one of the best, but doesn't make me cringe.

Adam Carrola and Julianne Hough. He makes me cringe. Not only is he awkward on the floor, he has a bad attitude. If you are really bad, but have a great attitude (anybody remember Jerry Springer? And more recently, Steve Gutenberg?), then you are forgiven. You love it, and we can see that. The only thing I see in Adam is the need of a serious Ego-Trimer 2000. I love her though.

Cristian De La Fuenta and Cheryl Burke. I like him more and more. Week One, when he did the cha cha, I had doubts because he had a serious shoulder problem, but he remarkably fixed that, and has been very good. I don't know that I would put him in the contender for the mirror ball class, but probably semi-final.


Shannon Elizabeth and Derek Hough. First week, didn't like her at all. Second week I was blown away by her quickstep. She had some very good moments, and continued to impress me with her jive. Needs to finish her lines a little better, but still very good.

Mario and Karina Smirnoff. Eh. I only like him okay, not nearly as much as I like Jason. He does have his merits (very dedicated, obviously loves it), but when he does the smooth/standard dances (quickstep, tango...) he does something funny with his arms.

Marlee Matlin and Fabian Sanchez. This woman is amazing. She has better timing and rhythm then most of the contestants on the show that can hear. Also, she gets along very well with her partner. I really enjoy watching her dance.

Jason Taylor and Edyta Sliwinska. I love him. For a football player, he has amazing posture. He started out better than I think Emmitt Smith and Jerry Rice ever got to be, even though they both made it to the finals (Emmitt won, and Jerry got third). Love love love him. Also, he isn't that hard to look at. Not that I noticed.

Marissa Jaret-Winokur and Tony Dovolani. She must sleep great. As bouncy and energetic as she is, when shes out she must be out. I love her attitude, and I love her enthusiasm, although it does sometimes mess with her ability to remember steps. Which is kinda bad. But still love her, especially with Tony. If she was with Max (who sadly isn't in this season), he would kill her; Tony just goes with the flow, which is a tribute to his ability to teach.

Kristi Yamaguchi and Mark Ballas. They are without a doubt my favorite couple. Utterly and completely. And not just because Mark Ballas is the hottest thing since ovens (ok, that was wimpy, but I was busy thinking about them, and it messes with my thought process). That girl can dance!! I have loved everyone of her dances (her mambo was amazing. YouTube it), and I think she should be this years winner. No question.

Well, there ya go. My thoughts on this years Dancing contestants.

Thats all the news that is news! Until later, Alice

What's on Alices iPod?

I obviously can't give you everything thats on my iPod, since I have 5547 songs stored on it. I can't even give you my Favorites playlist, because it is 389 songs. Which is a whole lot to write down. So, I will give you the top songs on my iTunes. Ready?

• Imagine, sung by Eva Cassidy. I prefer this version to the Lennon version. Lennon's voice is a little to whiny/nasally for me. Also, Bryan Watson and Carmen once did a Rumba to Cassidy's version, which was amazing and beautiful.
  
• I Will Follow You Into the Dark, by Death Cab for Cutie. Very romantic, and sometimes makes me cry. *sniff* So good. Love the lyrics.
  
• How Sweet It Is, by Michael Buble (pronounced boo-blay). Another great dance song, this time a swing. It has a great jazzy beat and good vocals.
• After the Goldrush, by Neil Young. I can't really explain why I love this song so much, but it really appeals to me.
• T.N.T, by AC/DC. I like the OI! part at the beginning.
• Romeo and Juliet, by the Indigo Girls. Absolutely and completely blows Dire Straits version out of the water. No question.
• Fur Elise, written by Beethoven. Reminds me of the waltz, the way it goes and goes then pulls up, then falls down into the next notes. Which may or may not make any sense at all.
• Someday You Will Be Loved, by Death Cab for Cutie. Another great song from their Plans album, except in this song he leaves her instead of staying. Still very good.
• Temptation, by Diana Krall. Love her voice, love the song. A very good slow Rumba.
• Princes of the Universe, by Queen. It's Queen. Nobody needs to say anything else about anything, just fall forward in admiration of the musical glory that is Queen.

And there you have it gentle people, the Top 10 songs on Alices iTunes/iPod. Tomorrow I will have something a little more exciting to report, since I will throw my 2 metaphorical cents in about this seasons Dancing with the Stars.

P.S. #11 is El Tango de Roxanne, the Moulin Rougue movie version. The guy in the beginning has the coolest voice ever.

Porsche memory sticks, praying mantii and pain

I was probably going to say something witty and entertaining about my ski trip, but right now the only thing I can think of is Porsche memory sticks, praying mantis's , and pain. I'll start with the memory sticks.

As you can see in the picture above, that is a Porsche on the end of a memory stick. I found it searching for "yellow porsches" on Google. I don't really know what to say about it, except I want one. The picture explains it all. I wonder if it makes your computer go faster.


On Sunday afternoon, having just returned home from the ski trip, I was helping like a good little girl and carrying the stuff in the house when I saw this guy -






It really begs the question - why are so many bugs after me? Did I step on one of their brethren once and now there is a contract out for my head - or sanity? Little buggies who are reading this, please accept my deepest apologies for whatever I did to anger your little buggy selves, and let us move on like civilized....beings. Thank you.

What do you think the plural for praying mantis is? Praying mantii? Praying mantisis? I like praying mantii, personally.

And now, the pain.

My knee is pulsating fire. My left knee, (which could probably considered ironic since it is NOT the one that had and has a previous injury) is the one doing the pulsating.

You see, after my knee was exposed to a possible blowout skiing, I went ahead and danced for 5 hours. Which was actually ok for the right knee (the one with the previous injury), because the left knee got the short end of the stick.

I was dancing with my friend, and was led into a step in which I was supposed to use his arm as a monkey bar (I don't understand it either). But instead of doing the smart thing and doing the step correctly (to easy!), I went ahead and slipped. Down into the splits. Which is usually ok for me, but I went down kinda hard (remember I did slip into this. I was not expecting to end up on the ground), and now have a bruise the size of a small European country on my left knee. Here comes the part where my ballet teacher slowly but surely hits her head repeatedly on her computer. Ready?

I kept doing the step. Using my friend's and my version(my friend and me? my friend and I?). The other times I didn't fall into it, but I still kept cracking my knee into the hardwood floor pretty hard. It is, however possibly one of the coolest steps I have ever done in that dance. I love it. And, the bruise is a lovely deep mauve color, so that's nice. I would be sad if it was black. Not pretty enough.

Other than the whole knee of fire thing, it was awesome dancing for that long. And now, please excuse me while I go ice both my knees.

I am.......worn out

I have been skiing for the past 5 hours. Which has left me burning on -2.74 burners. Which is really code speak for "I have officially bonked, and cannot think of anything witty or deep to write to all 3 of you".

I hope my creative brain cells have recovered by tomorrow. I am sorry to disappoint, but the only thoughts that are randomly firing through my deprived brain are "I am so tired........ so tired........ so, so tired........ i would like to be warm now. so tired. is it bed time?..........so tired..... so sore....."

Good night, and wish me good luck.