So, I rarely, if ever, read my horoscope. But today, just for the heck of it, I clicked to see what it had to say:

"Your brain is going to be focused on your future now. You're thinking about what will be coming into your life and not as concerned with what is going on in it today, but this is not a bad thing. Stretching yourself to imagine what could be will help you create futuristic ideas that can guide you in your decision-making. It's also a great way to visualize success in a new relationship or work project. Living in the moment is good, but every now and again you should live for tomorrow."

See previous post for musings on same.

So, I turned 35 last week. That's halfway to 40, for those of who like math. (Me, I've always hated it.) Naturally, there's the obligatory (if you're me) head-scratching and soul-searching, and list-making of things I haven't done yet. And there are a lot of things. I mean, let's face it, working in retail was not in the ten, twenty or thirty-year plan. The question becomes, what am I going to do about it? And, more practically, what WILL I do about it?

I am not unhappy where I am, doing what I'm doing, living the life I have. I am occasionally happy, moderately content, but, mostly, I think, complacent. So, what do I do about it? Theoretically, I could go back to school. That possibility hovers out there consistently, but rarely concretely. That would require a lot of things, beginning with the financial wherewithal to do it-something I don't see happening, short of winning the lottery. I already have enough student loan debt that, again, short of winning the lottery, I will never pay off. My heirs will inherit my payment book. But, okay, put that aside, and say, "hell with it."

At 21 I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I figure, looking back, I dealt with it undiagnosed for at least 10 years before that. Then I spent the next 10 years bouncing around trying to find effective treatment for it. Lots of starts and stops. The pain of depression is indescribable to someone who has never lived with it, not least, I think, because each person experiences it in their own unique, private hell of a way. Two analogies that work for me: 1) being pinned to the bottom of the ocean with an enormous bolder on your chest and, 2) like patients who've had a stroke and gotten their wires crossed, i.e., in their mind, they know what they're saying and writing, but, when it comes out, it's gobbledy gook.

So, I have finally found effective treatment for the depression (and the anxiety attacks that often accompanied it, just for fun). But, after living under its cloud for so long, it's hard to believe that it will really stay at bay forever. I keep hoping that that worry will pass, but, so far, no go. Not that I am magically cured-there are still occasional remnants, but they don't last very long. So, I'm resigned to taking a ridiculously high dose of Zoloft for the rest of my life. (We once tried lowering the dose-and it wasn't pretty.) As long as it keeps working, I'm okay with that.

But part of the fear of going back to school and finishing my degree-a BIG part of it-is that the stress of it will once again trigger those symptoms. Going back to school, in and of itself, doesn't scare me. As always, it excites and invigorates me. But having the depression back terrifies the hell out of me. Not least because Dr. Davis, the man who saved my life, isn't around for me to consult anymore. I spent 10 years trying to find him, so it's not like I can just come up with a replacement with ease.

So, honestly, for many more reasons than the financial (which is a considerable concern), and the boogey-man of depression, I don't, realistically, see myself going back to school. So, let's throw that out as highly improbable. What, then, am I going to do with myself? Because I don't want to have this discussion with myself again when I'm 40 and still be covering the same ground.

I'm not looking for someone to answer these questions-only I can do that. But it's the project I need to be working on. Zoloft and me, we're gonna climb that mountain and see what's on the other side.

But right now, it's 4am and my busy little brain needs to turn itself off and Go. To. Sleep. Oy.

Following a massive manhunt, the Texas Two are where they belong (see photos above). For more pics, see my Flickr page. There are plenty more of the Texas Two, as well as some beautiful, green scenery-a sight for the sore eyes in these here northern territories.

Today's fortune cookie:

"Travels from nesting space will take you to a broader cultural horizon."

Apt, as I'm heading to the land of Texans and Monkey Boys tomorrow. I'm not entirely sure that my cultural horizon will be broader, but ya never know.

Why, yes, I did take that photo. Thank you, thank you very much.

Today's lunchtime fortune cookie:

"You may fall into a spell of shininess -- Don't buy it."

What does this MEAN? Mind you, I'm somewhat mollified by the fact that it is an ACTUAL fortune. Could it be that I, personally, will fall into a spell (period) of being shiny? Will people have to put on their sunglasses and not look directly at me? This is possible, as people are often blinded by my brilliance.

Yet the cryptic phrase, "Don't buy it," leads me to believe that I will instead become enthralled by a shiny toy. One which I will covet and yearn for and cry myself to sleep over. But 'sokay. I won't buy it. I'm broke-there's no money for spending on shiny objects of any kind.

Unless it's the Shiniest Shiny Toy I ever did see. I will try to restrain myself from selling my soul to have it, but I make no hard and fast promises.

Tonight's fortune cookie:

"You have a keen sense of humor and love a good time."

This seems more like flattery ('deed I do have a keen sense of humor) and stating the obvious (who doesn't love a good time?). There is no "fortune" here. Whatever happened to, for example:

"You will meet a tall, dark & handsome man?"

or

"You will come into some money."

or even

"Watch out for that tree?"

I don't believe in fortune cookies, fortune tellers, horoscopes, the lottery or god--but that doesn't mean I don't like playing the occasional game. Couldn't we at least make it interesting? That's all I'm asking.

That, and, if I play the lottery, I'd really much prefer to win. Please.)

Thank you and goodnight.

Latest fortune cookie:

"Your battle between impatient and pragmatic rages on today."

(No, I am not eating chinese food everyday-I just have a stash b/c the Peking Garden always gives me a lot. Perhaps I look needy.)

Anyway, after days and days (and DAYS) of grey, rain and gloominess, the sun is trying to make an appearance. But it's foggy out...so it's just a brighter version of the grey right now. But I have high hopes. I am impatiently yet pragmatically waiting.

Gotta go get ready for work now. Dammit.

So, you all know my fervent dislike of vegetables as a food group. I want to like the veggies, I really do. But, try as I might, I just don't.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I got the garlic chicken from Peking Garden-and it all smelled so good that I went ahead and tried some of the broccoli. And I liked it. Then I had some of the green pepper. And it was Good. I drew the line at the mushrooms, but, then, they're really a fungus, aren't they? Not so much a vegetable.

Perhaps I can buy the sauce from them in bulk.

In other news, my fortune read: "Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded."

Small problem: it doesn't specify WHEN my talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded. My luck, it'll be posthumously.

Dammit.

So, Allan is leaving me. Allan, for those of you who don't know, is one of the supervisors at the Market (a minion, if you will). He's a fabulous cook, he makes me laugh all day, and he has the cutest dog ever. If he weren't gay, I'd marry him. (That, and he's already proposed to Jeanne.) Unfortunately for me, Allan is also a rolling stone. He's about ten years older than me and, ever since he was 18, he's always decided he wanted to go somewhere and do something, and pretty much moved and done it within 24 hours. He's lived in Florida, Vegas, San Diego, Phoenix, Germany, and god knows where else. Now he's decided he's going to go drive a truck. (As in become a long haul trucker.) We already call him "Big Daddy" (he has a song), so he's all set.

But, dammit!

Allan makes work fun. Take today, for example. We started carrying these chocolate covered marshmallow/graham cracker concoctions about a week ago called "Yo' Pies." Allan discovered them a few days ago, when I was off. After having dinner with some friends, I discover not one, but two messages from Allan saying in a ridiculous voice, "I want some of yo' pies. Not my pies-yo' pies." So, the next day at work, I lined his cabinet with boxes of Yo' Pies. Today, I was running a little late and, when I called work, Allan answered the phone, so I said, "I'd like to buy some of yo' pies, not my pies, yo' pies." When I got to work this afternoon, Allan had gathered all of the employees and given them boxes of Yo' Pies, so, when I walked in, everybody held up a box and said, "Yo' Pies!" in unison. it was awesome, and I laughed my ass off.

God, I'm gonna miss that. He's promised to make me a batch of his homemade enchiladas before he hits the road (to die for), and to call me in the mornings when he has crazy dreams to report (often), but it won't be the same. Work just won't be as fun. (Sigh.)

You know, the best thing about this whole Jennie DeVoe thing, is that it's pushing me out of the creative lull/rut I've been in for awhile now. I just haven't been inspired or motivated enough to make very much art-in any form. So, having someone who doesn't know you from Adam say, "Hey, your pictures are awesome," especially someone who I respect as an artist, is an incredible validation. The best part, really, was that I wasn't taking those pictures with the intent of them being used for anything other than my own amusement, and, really, so I could post them on this blog and say, "Hey, look what I did last night."

So, I've been listening to My CD (ya know, my Master Copy), and getting all of these tiny little explosions of art and design ideas, all of which I can't wait to put down on the page and see what they look like outside my head. Maybe they'll suck-but, honestly, that's okay, because at least I'll be DOING something creative. And, since these ideas are all being inspired by these marvelous Jennie DeVoe songs, I'll send her some of whatever comes out of it. If she wants to use any of it, great. But, honestly, if not, just the fact that I'm making SOMETHING again is good enough for me.

So, for those of you who I haven't told yet, I have some news.

As I posted earlier in the week, last Saturday I went to a sold-out Jennie DeVoe show up in Zionsville. In addition to enjoying a truly fabulous show, I took some pictures and a few videos-most especially because Allan had a ticket but came down with a stomach bug and was unable to attend. A few other people were also taking pictures and video that night, and Jennie asked those doing so to send her a copy. Well, two nights later I went to see her at Claddagh ( my favorite restaurant/provider of Strongbow on tap) and, before the show, I talked to her a bit and gave her a copy of the video I shot, which, me being me, included a cover with a pic that I shot that night. She made sure I included my contact info, which I did, and that was that.

I was off the next day, and when I got around to checking my email that afternoon, I had two emails from Jennie, one saying (as I feared) that she was unable to get the video to play, but that she loved the picture on the cover, and, did I have any more? The second email was marked "urgent," and wondered if I could possibly get her some pictures that day, because The Sanctuary (the art gallery where the concert had been) was publishing its newsletter. She gave me her cellphone number and asked me to call her. In the end, I posted the pictures to Flickr so that she could see them and burned them to a disc for her. She really loved the pics and wondered if she could use them not only for the newsletter, but possibly for her new (redesigned) website and maybe in a CD. My answer to that was, of course, yes, and we arranged that she would come into The Market the next day to pick-up a disc with the high-res images.

So, the next afternoon, in Jennie came. I gave her the discs and she asked if she could pay me, to which I replied, "Well, if you happen to have a copy of that new CD you keep talking about, I'l take that." (The new CD, probably called "Strange Sunshine," doesn't have an official release date or anything yet.) She said she didn't have one, but then stopped herself and said, "Wait," and proceeded to rummage around in her purse and pulled out a disc. "I have this Master copy, but it's an earlier version. I could give you this." After which I was asked to solemnly swear not to share it with ANYBODY. And then she handed it over, and pointed out one track that she'd decided wasn't ready and won't be on the actual CD, and one song that's been changed a bit...all while I clutched it to my breast in something resembling dumbfounded shock.

Needless to say, I have been way overpaid. And I'm okay with that. Because, folks, I'm here to tell you, this CD is AWESOME. Jennie describes it as a "stripped down soul record," and it's just one great track after another (even the "deleted" one, but, what do I know?) and, if all is right and just in the universe, it will soon catapult her into the stratosphere. But then, I've been saying this for years now.

At any rate, I will not share my Master copy. I took a solemn vow. Not that this stops me from pulling it out now and again (okay, every chance I get) and parading it around. And gloating.

(Addendum: after listening to the CD for the first time, I emailed Jennie to express my abject gratitude. She said she couldn't believe she'd given me the master, but felt that it was in good hands. I assured her that it was, and let her know that I was currently shopping for a briefcase with handcuffs, because it goes where I go. In fact, the other day, on my way home from work, I had to stop and run into the pharmacy, and I actually sat there and debated with myself if it was ok to leave the CD in the car while I ran inside. I decided it was not. Until I get the briefcase with lock and handcuffs, the zippered compartment of my purse will have to do.)

So, when I know, I'll let you all know where the pictures will be appearing. In the meantime, you can go to my Flickr page and view them there (to your left, click the "My Flickr Photos" link). I may have to "invite" you to view them, if you're not already in my contacts, so email me if you can't see them.

'Scuse me while I go listen to my CD some more.

Went to see Jennie at The Claddagh. Unfortunately, they didn't have Strongbow in the tent, so I'm a little bitter. Still Jennie was great, so it was not a total loss.

And here's a picture of Allan in his St. Patty's Day finest:



He tried to make me wear a similar hat all day at work, but I only lasted about 30 minutes.

Saturday night, Melany and I went to see Jennie DeVoe at a very special show at Nancy Noel's Sanctuary art gallery in Zionsville. The gallery is an old church that Noel has restored and filled with her paintings, which are truly remarkable.



(I'm about 90% sure that the painting on the right is of my friend Erin and Brown's daughter Allannah. Erin's mom is a friend of Noel's, and I know awhile back Noel took some photos of her.)

The show was just awesome. Jennie and the band were in excellent form, and they did quite a few songs from their eagerly anticipated new CD (no release date yet), all of which are so, SO good. Here's video I shot of one of them, "No Damn Man:"




Anyway, the happy news about the undetermined release date of the new CD is that they're having a label distribute it instead of doing it on their own. What's great about that is that a label can put a lot more money behind promoting the CD and, hopefully, get the band the national attention that they deserve. Yee-ha.

1 1/2 oz tequila
1/2 oz triple sec
1 oz fresh lime juice
1/2 oz Midori® melon liqueur
salt

There's nothing wrong with a regular margarita, but, mm-mm-yum, these are good. It's all Allan's fault. We went out last Friday and he introduced me. Always loved the margarita, always loved the Midori. Never thought about combining the two. Highly recommended. Almost makes the pain of men, bombs and 42,000,000 mis-spent dollars go away. Almost.

Elliot Spitzer. Of course you know who he is-NOW. You might not have known who he was before a couple of days ago, unless you were from New York or Washington. Spitzer used to be (okay, technically, he still is) the governor of New York. He used to be the crusading Attorney General of New York who took on Wall Street and cleaned house. He took on corruption, organized crime...you name it. He was a crusader, a good guy. I figured one of these days I'd have the opportunity to vote for him for president.

Not anymore. Why? Well, I'm sure you've heard: Spitzer's penis is apparently more powerful than his brain. Seems to happen to a lot of men. The penis seems to have a mystical power over men, making them delusional, self-important, hurtful, and stupid. How Spitzer could possibly think he could get away with using the services of a high-priced prostitution ring, we may never know. I mean, really, he's in the business of finding this kind of corruption. You'd think that he would recognize that his enemies -or, in this case, the people whose side he was supposed to be on-would eventually sniff him out.

Nobody's perfect. Everybody has flaws and secrets, things they'd rather the whole world not know. But this isn't just some flaw-it's illegal. Not to mention immoral and, seriously, just plain stupid. So, what I'd like to ask Spitzer is, was it worth it? Was the satisfaction of your penis worth the pain you have caused your family and friends? Worth the ruin of your career? Worth facing criminal charges? Because, it seems to me, that if your penis really had that much power over you, then you should've had yourself castrated.

Men! Some days I wish I were attracted to women so I wouldn't have to deal with them. Alas!

....That pisses me off:



Now, I'm against the war, and I'm not crazy about army recruiters, but, nonetheless, this pisses me off. Actually, this pisses me off on a couple of fronts. First: I don't care what your beef is, that doesn't mean you get to go around dropping off bombs in the middle of Times Square (or anywhere else, for that matter). All I can say is, thank god nobody was hurt. But what pisses me off more, actually, is the fact that it was apparently so easy for some guy on a bike to drop off a bomb IN THE MIDDLE OF TIMES SQUARE, and there was no security around to notice or stop him. It seems like this was probably just some nutter who wanted to make a point (not that I'm excusing them), but what if it had been a more serious terrorist (domestic or foreign) who wanted to make a statement involving death and destruction? The lone bicyclist could have dropped off a much more powerful bomb, or a biological weapon, and we apparently would not have noticed until after the fact. Actually, that thought scares me even more than it pisses me off. (Sigh.) But there you go.



While I'm at it, one more thing that pisses me off: drivers who are unclear on the concept of turn signals. Maybe it's an Indiana epidemic (although I doubt it), but most of the drivers around here seem to think that you put your turn signal on AS you're turning-and not a moment sooner! But, you see, at that point, you might as well forget it. I can SEE that you're turning, so, in this case, "better late than never" really doesn't apply. I get it. You're turning. Not soon, not in a little bit, but now, right now in front of me. Oy!

Note to all dumb-asses with a driver's license: the purpose of your turn signal is to alert the other drivers that you will be making a turn in the near FUTURE. Try it, you'll be amazed. (Although I realize you're probably talking on your cell phone and thus don't have both hands free to work that turn signal thingy. But that's okay. Your call is much more important than road safety. I don't know what I was thinking.)

Okay, shutting up now before I spend the rest of my day off listing things that piss me off. It seems that one thing just leads to another. The sun is shining, and it's supposed to get up to 46 degrees today. To balance, I'll end with two of the things in life that make me really, REALLy happy:

Under the heading of:


Rebate Letters to Cost $42 Million
By Devlin Barrett, Associated Press Writer

WASHINGTON (AP) -- At a cost of nearly $42 million, the IRS wants you to know: Your check is almost in the mail. The Internal Revenue Service is spending the money on letters to alert taxpayers to expect rebate checks as part of the economic stimulus plan. The notices are going out this month to an estimated 130 million households who filed returns for the 2006 tax year, at a cost $41.8 million, IRS spokesman John Lipold confirmed. That works out to about 32 cents to print, process and mail each letter. It doesn't include the tab for another round of mailings planned for those who didn't file tax returns last year but may still qualify for a rebate.

Democrats accused the Bush administration of wasting time and postage. "There are countless better uses for $42 million than a self-congratulatory mailer that gives the president a pat on the back for an idea that wasn't even his," Sen. Charles Schumer said Friday, arguing the IRS could more effectively spend the money to catch tax cheats. Keith Hennessey, director of the president's National Economic Council, said the letters are being sent to explain how the tax rebates will work. "Any time you do something as a government tens of millions of times, there is ample room for people to get confused. And so if you're going to have tens of millions of taxpayers getting checks, you want to get the information out so that you have as few people as possible confused about what's happening, they understand what's coming, and it reduces the number of incoming requests that IRS and Treasury have to figure out how to deal with it," said Hennessey.

"Dear Taxpayer," the letters will begin, going on to say the IRS is pleased to inform the recipient that Congress passed and President Bush signed into law a plan that will provide payments of up to $600 for individuals who qualify or $1,200 for married couples filing jointly. The rebates are the centerpiece of a $168 billion economic stimulus package. The actual rebate checks are scheduled to go out starting in May, after the IRS has finished separately mailing out routine refunds for the 2007 tax year. The letters will be a reminder that people need to file a 2007 tax return so they will receive the rebate if they are eligible for it.

Similar notices will go out later to some Social Security recipients and those who receive veterans benefits -- groups that often do not file tax returns. For those people to get a rebate check, they will need to file a tax return if they received at least $3,000 from a combination of certain Social Security benefits, veterans benefits and earned income. The minimum payment for this group will be $300 for an individual and $600 for a couple filing jointly. Not everyone will be eligible. Singles with income of more than $75,000 and couples with more than $150,000 get only partial rebates, if any. People who earn less than $3,000, illegal immigrants and anyone who does not file a tax return will miss out. Singles with incomes exceeding $87,000 and couples with incomes exceeding $174,000 also won't qualify, although those caps rise by $6,000 per child.

Forty-two. MILLION. dollars.

To tell people what the above article just told us. $42,000,000, to tell the people about the roughly $5,460,000,000 (that would be five BILLION, four-hundred and sixty MILLION dollars, for those of us not used to seeing that many zeros) they're going to hand out in "free" money.



Off the top of my head, I can think of at least 42 other good uses that money could be put to:

1. Feeding a third world country.
2. Feeding the homeless in the United States.
3. Housing the homeless.
4. Providing education to the poor so that they can get better jobs.
5. School lunches.
6. Fixing the potholes in all of the roads.
7. Ensuring that the nation's bridges are structurally sound.
8. Ensuring that the nation's borders are secure.
9. Buying more armored humvees for the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan.
10. Supporting the families of soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.
11. Saving the frickin' whales.
12. Finding a cure for cancer.
13. Finding a cure for AIDS.
14. Finding a cure for the common cold.
15. Finding a cure for stupidity.
16. Rebuilding villages in Iraq that we "inadvertently" destroyed.
17. Rebuilding New Orleans and Mississippi.
18. Providing free health care to those who can't afford it.
19. Sending a few dollars to those people who make $3,000 or less.
20. Paying for childcare for working single moms.
21. Fighting the war on crime.
22. Fighting the war on drugs.
23. Fighting the war on terrorism.
24. Fighting for the right to party (oh, wait...)
25. Saving the rain forest.
26. Preventing global warming.
27. Preventing teenage pregnancy.
28. Supporting our war veterans.
29. Cleaning up America's highways.
30. Paying down the national debt.
31. Incentives for new teachers.
32. Making schools safer.
33. Buying a warm winter jacket for every child who can't afford one.
34. Buying every household a gallon of gas.
35. Need-based educational scholarships.
36. Buying books for libraries.
37. Giving bonuses to the troops.
38. Planting trees.
39. Supporting farmers.
40. Buying eyeglasses for needy kids.
41. Funding for National Parks.
42. Preventing identity theft.

That's just 42. Give me awhile, and I'm sure I could come up with 42 million better things to do with $42,000,000. Got a few? Feel free to share.

So, last night I watched the premiere of this new show called "New Amsterdam." The premise is, in a nutshell, this: John Amsterdam is a homicide cop in present day New York City. About 400 years ago, he was a Dutch settler who saved a Native American woman from death by taking a sword to the heart. To repay him for saving her life, this woman blessed (cursed?) him with immortality, only ceasing once he finds his true love, his soul mate.

In the pilot, Amsterdam is in pursuit of a murder suspect at a subway stop when, suddenly, his heart stops and he collapses. The beautiful doctor who has just stepped off a train goes to his aid, following him all the way to her hospital, where she is unable to revive him and pronounces him dead. Shortly after being wheeled to the morgue, Amsterdam awakens, and leaves. Meanwhile, the doctor and one of her assistants try to figure out the mystery of the dead "John Doe" who disappeared.

Bwwrrrvvvp. (That's my version of a record suddenly being stopped.) I like this show. I think it could be very interesting. And the guy who plays the lead, a Dutch actor by the unpronounceable name of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, is very, very hot. (See photographic evidence below.)



But, c'mon, he's a cop in pursuit of a suspect, He has on him his gun, his badge, and his ID. Yet, somehow, when he gets to the ER, he's a John Doe? Sure, it's New York City-he could've been mugged while he was unconscious. Except, he wasn't-not on screen. And then, he wakes up naked in the morgue, but somehow manages to not only get out of the place undetected, but he gets his AWOL gun, badge and ID back. (Not to mention the snazzy pocket watch it's later shown that he always has on him.)

I'm buying the whole immortality-lived-for 400+years-true-love thing, until this just throws me right out of the story. It's been bugging me since I woke up this morning. (Yes, I do need a life, thank you.)

Ah, well. I'll still watch the next few episodes, and, barring any further glaring snafus, will probably enjoy it. The pilot was directed by Academy Award-winning director Lasse Hollstrom ("The Cider House Rules," "Chocolat," and, incidentally, husband of Lena Olin of "Alias," and many other things), the cast is very intriguing, and the premise has lots of possibilities.

But, seriously? A John Doe? NO way.

So, I've just spent a Saturday off doing mostly nothing, and it was quite lovely. I've got nothing profound to say, but a few random thoughts in no particular order:

First of all, if you happened to tune into my blog yesterday, you were subjected to a widget from Club Pogo for Poppit!, which was extremely annoying, I now realize. I have since deleted it. I still enjoy the Poppit!, and several other Club Pogo games (Canasta, anyone?), but the widget is toast.

Upon the recommendation of one of the girls I work with who used to live up my way, I tried Peking Garden, the hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant across the street from my apartment complex. Fan-frickin'-tastic! Best crab rangoon I've found in Indy so far.

As you may have noticed, I have changed my profile pic here on livejournal. Macs have this great(?) program called Photo booth, which basically just accesses the camera built into the computer (aren't you jealous? Macs rule, PCs drool), and it's kinda fun to play with.

Tried the Salmon fish n' chips at Claddagh last night. It was good-very good flavor, but a little dry. Thankfully, there was plenty of Strongbow on tap to wash it down with. Mmmm...Strongbow. Makes a girl want to move to England for easier access. I love the whole concept of English pubs. They're more like community centers, only with food and beer (and cider).

Bought tickets for me, Mel and Allan to see Jennie Devoe at Nancy Noel's Sanctuary, up in Zionsville, on the Ides of March (3/15). Noel's art is a bit too precious for me, but, then, I'm not going for her. Here's one of her pieces that I like:



Two days after that, we'll combine two things I love, Jennie DeVoe and Strongbow, when she does a set at Claddagh on St. Patrick's Day.

My diet: well, let's just say that this week has not been a good one. I didn't even weigh myself this week. But, it's all good. Just because I've fallen off the wagon, doesn't mean I can't get back on.

Women's Murder Club: Save this show! As mentioned in my recent review, I love this show...but it seems as though it may become a victim of the writer's strike. Aaack! Anyway, I'm not the only one disgruntled about this, so, help a TV addict out, and sign the petition to ABC. Thank you for your support.



And I'm trying to love the James Patterson books as much as I do the TV series, but (with apologies to Shannon and My God-like Mother), I'm finding it kinda hard. I'm in the middle of the 5th book, and it's just so....detached, I guess, is the word I'm looking for. The relationships between the characters just ring false to me, and I can see the plot twists coming a mile away. And yet, I keep reading.

I know I haven't mentioned this in awhile (coupla days maybe?) but I love Rick Springfield. For many reasons, but here's another one. Oh, and here's another reason:

Awesome dimples and an adorable smile (okay, that's two). Almost makes me forgive him for the "scheduling conflict" that derailed the FDL county fair.

Have I mentioned lately that I love Jenny Crusie? Well, I do. And I particularly love her blog, which is not only fun, but a great glimpse into the writing process. Plus, whenever she responds to one of my comments (see this entry), I feel all special, 'cuz a famous writer has acknowledged my existence.

Another thing I love is my new recliner, which I got from The Market, at a really good price, what with my employee discount and all. Here's the pic of it from the website:



It is SO comfortable, and it reclines all the way back. It kind of reminds me of being on a floaty on Elkhart Lake. It's THAT relaxing. I fell asleep in it last night. On that note, I do believe I'll retire to my recliner for the remainder of my lovely, random Saturday, perhaps with a Strongbow in hand. Cheers!