Embracing my liberal anger.

I mean, I'm pretty much always angry at something. Sometimes it's a righteous anger, or an emotional/hormonal rage, but mostly it's just vague ire directed at, for example, other drivers or my neighbors I am afraid will try to bitch at me about the lawn in the 30 seconds I appear in front of my house every evening.

I've got a lot of the vague ire going on right now--I am having my period, which, while not an excuse, does tend to make things seem less rosy, ironically and disgustingly enough--but there's also some righteousness mixed in for good measure.

In case your eyes glazed over for the news that the Senate unanimously passed and Bush today signed $82 billion in war spending, anti-terrorism, and tsunami relief, let me enlighten you on one particularly unsavory aspect of this feel-good measure. The Real ID act is one Wisconsin Representative's underhanded way of slipping a national ID program into law. What's so bad about a national ID, you ask?

Well, I'm not smart enough to tell you, but I can link to a few people who are. I highly suggest you read up, at least a little, because this shit is going to affect everyone, and you should know what it is and how it can fuck you over.

Declan McCullaugh's FAQ of how Real ID will affect you is condensed and informative. His Politech mailing list is a great source of information and discussion on the subject, as well. Text of the law here for all those fluent in legalese. Google News rounds up the mainstream media coverage, which shows a remarkable lack of discussion on Real ID, while geeks with security and privacy concerns over at Slashdot and News.com pick apart the new law.

And it may just be my naivete regarding how the Senate works, but those Democrats quoted as being against Real ID who voted for it anyway? Where is their sense of dissent? Did they not learn in school that, for true/false questions, if even part of a question is false, the whole thing is false? Is it really so impossible to get a clean bill through Congress to fund things that evidently need funding, or at least a bill clean of major, divisive legislation?

No?

Wow, fuck the legislative process, then.

It's no fun reading fortune cookies to yourself.

Points to whoever knows the song.

Yesterday I had a henna experience. Henna is a much more awkward dye experience than, say, Manic Panic, and the results are more subtle. I tried to follow the Lush instructions to the letter, but I think I only tinted my hair a shade darker. It's treading chocolate territory, though I doubt anyone but me will notice.

For an hour and a half, my head was caked in what looked and felt like green mud and enveloped with sheets of cling film. It was squishy to the touch. The first rinse took awhile, and my hair was impossible to comb afterwards. The waxiness was so thick, I could barely style it into something less anime-freak and more just-having-a-bad-hair-day-greasy. But I let it stay that way for a few hours to see the full effect of the henna.

Three hours later, I was desperate to fix it, so I shampooed it. The waxiness was a little better, but not 100%, so a few hours after that, I applied probably 4 times the amount of shampoo I would normally use and let it sit for a minute before rinsing it out. The texture was fine and the color was somewhat apparent still, so I'm calling it good.

It's true I have no patience for things that are aesthetically displeasing.

The henna seemed only to stain the soap scum in my bathroom, which just highlighted the need to scrub it all down with Bon Ami. Which I did today, because Kevin would probably freak out if I didn't.

He's visiting his mom and sort of implied a desire to go alone because he doesn't go to see his family much without me anymore. When I pointed out that the last time he actually visited his mom--Christmas--I was in Oregon, he replied, "Hmm." We've seen his dad a few times, but not his mom. I can appreciate the desire to want to spend time without chatty ol' me, since he's quiet and tends to let me monopolize the conversation (I like both his parents, and we can talk about a lot of things that he doesn't care about). I only felt bad because I've been trying to get him to go to Santa Cruz for months, and he hasn't wanted to, and now that he has gone, he didn't want me to go. I just hope this doesn't make it look like I'm the reticent one.

Anyway, I really need to make some damn friends. Doing nothing with my free time is starting to wear me down.

This week's rentals: Home Movies: Season 1, disc 1, which totally rules; The Yes Men, a documentary about lefties who pretended to be WTO members and were responsible for the long-deceased WTO parody site; and Two-Way Stretch, an old Peter Sellers movie that was Kevin's selection and I probably won't watch.

If we get through this alive, I'll meet you next week, same place, same time.

Yes, Pulp's Common People has made it back into my frequent rotation. I know that's weird.

A potent combination of raw garlic and tahini still lingers in my mouth from last night's hummus, and I need to get my shit together for work, but I have the need to write some things down.

First, I was having this unsettlingly weird dream as I woke up this morning involving some kind of God-appointed, nukes-safe bunker in the middle of a huge lake that Kevin and I, as well as a hundred or so other people and a few pets, were permitted to enter when some rogue enemy nation announced they had nuclear weapons trained on us and, apparently, there was little we could do to retaliate. I think that was the least freaky part, though.

The way you got to this semi-submerged bunker was by swimming. If you didn't drown on the way over, you got to meet your maker, who decided whether you would live or die. Only I didn't know it was God until someone told me once we were inside. I laughed and said something about God being real and saving me, literally, after all my years of agnosticism.

There were many other creepy details I don't really remember. Everyone slept on giant bunkbeds and wore orange linen jumpsuits. Our hands were marked with a specific scratch pattern for re-entry. Fresh tomatoes were preserved in boxes and not jars. I'm not sure we had enough food to hold out for an entire nuclear holocaust.

Anyway, it was bizarre, and I hope it doesn't sit with me like this all day, because that would suck.

Margot is now 21 and hopefully not sleeping off too much of a hangover. I completely missed her friends and the one roommate I haven't met, but we had a good time. There was Thai food, delicious desserts from a bakery in Chinatown, visits to her candy store, a new Trader Joe's, and Cost Plus, and tons of walking.

We have Gossip tickets for the 26th, if anyone else wants to go to that, but Mike Doughty at Cafe Du Nord is sold out. I'd still like to see the Books if anyone, ANYONE has any interest. Opening acts include Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, so come on down.

For a few movies more...

Watching movies was about the only exciting thing I did yesterday. Yesterday was stupid. Today will be at least marginally better because I am leaving the house to go to San Francisco and celebrate my sister's 21st birthday.

The birthday is actually tomorrow, so depending on the pickiness of establishments, she is still a minor and unable to purchase or consume alcohol legally until then, but I doubt that will stop the festivities much.

I really enjoyed Sideways. I'm not much of a movie reviewer, and a lot of people have seen it already and had more intelligent things to say about it, but I did like it. I also liked The Anniversary Party, but not to the same extent. The making of that movie is a little more interesting than the plot, anyway: Alan Cumming and Jennifer Jason Leigh attempted to sell photos of their own fake wedding to the tabloids to fund it, for one thing.

My third DVD was from the HBO series, The Wire, and I have to say, I couldn't get into it. Maybe I just wasn't in the right mood for it, but I gave up.

Movies are fun.

Well, sometimes. Unemotional Holocaust movies like The Grey Zone aren't really fun, but The Incredibles is.

Possibly seeing seeing Star Wars Episode 3 with my entire office will be fun, but who knows. My boss is the biggest Star Wars fan I know, and somehow that translates to the entire company getting to take off an afternoon in June to go to the movies. Awesome.

Netflix finally sent Sideways. Woo! I also have The Anniversary Party and some other movie when they get The Incredibles tomorrow. If The Motorcycle Diary's long wait holds out, it'll be some TV show.

But mostly, I have been watching TV. VERONICA MARS TOTALLY RULES, YOU GUYS. Yes, I have to mention it in every post now. I am still excited from last night's revelations. It's so insane. I want it to be Tuesday again so I can see the next one. Aaaaaaaasdf. I can't even explain it in a way that doesn't make it sound totally stupid, but I swear, it's an awesome show. And it even got renewed!

God, I'm so boring. I don't even have a commercial to bitch about lately. I don't understand the sheep-boy smoothie Skittle commercial, though. It feels like a bastardized edgy comedy sketch.

Monday is my sister's 21st birthday. I'm gonna go up to San Francisco on Sunday and do some celebratory lunching, but I can't stay for the midnight drink-fest. I have work. You darn crazy kids.

Okay, I'm done. Tell me something interesting.

It is some strange conspiracy of fates that I was home before 6.

It's the same fates who decided that when my department at work would be inundated with work that, even with two people in the office, would appear overwhelming, my boss would be out of the office for three days and unable to do any of it.

I try not to discuss work here, but I'm just saying. I've been busy. It was an unfortunate miracle that I wasn't working overtime--unfortunate because it meant there was something so wrong with a project that it wasn't worth further testing until someone else could fix it, meaning nothing until Monday.

I have really got to figure out how to get exercise in a way that makes sense. Or get over at least one excuse. I know I've complained about this before. I really wish I lived in a city and could walk places; I hate this car-dependent, homogenous, engineered setup.

What I really want, though, is a renewal of the Bop of the Day project. A few years ago, my IRC channel, #n00n, had a private FTP site where about six of us uploaded a song or two every day, called the Bop of the Day or BOTD. I think we all collected a lot of decent and interesting music that way. It's the equivalent of an ongoing mix CD project, and I miss it.

You guys who aren't watching Veronica Mars are fucking missing out, by the way.

Let's see. I didn't review my third movie from last week yet, which was Hotel Rwanda. I don't have any intelligent thoughts on it. I cried for most of the movie because it was just that sad. It felt kind of like a horror movie plot with real events. It was a pretty awful thing to watch, and it was no doubt cleaned up considerably for the benefit of audiences and that PG-13 rating. Very affecting.

This week, I have more Homicide: Season 1, The Grey Zone, and The Incredibles. Yeah, what was that I said about not liking animation much? I think my sister would hate me forever if I didn't watch Pixar movies, though. They are good. More wholesome than my usual fare, but good. Miyazaki and Pixar are the exceptions to my "family-friendly animated films are dumb" rule. Except Monsters, Inc., which I didn't like much. Because I am heartless.

Whether or not I'll do anything productive this weekend remains to be seen. My house needs some cleaning and the yard needs some tending, although the latter aggravated my allergies horribly in last weekend's botched attempt. Anyway, I'm not keeping my hopes up for anything besides watching my DVDs and having pancakes and listening to This American Life tomorrow.

A bit about the monotony of everyday life.

There's getting up in the morning, driving to work, sitting at my desk, eating lunch, more sitting, driving home, being lazy, making dinner, and going to bed, only to do it all over again. Everyone knows this song and dance.

I have absolutely got to figure out how the hell to work in some exercise. I'd consider even a stupid workout machine dealie that I can stick in my room and use while watching TV. I've been perusing craigslist for such a device. I tried getting up early to walk around the neighborhood and jump rope, but it lasted for three days and I felt exhausted from getting up even half an hour earlier than usual. Going out after work is...unappealing, and I fucking hate the gym. Don't even suggest biking to work: it's 12 miles each way, fraught with danger, and I feel unsteady on a cycle. So while my diet is about as healthy as I'd like it to be (maaaaybe a few too many snacks, but even then), I am one of the bemoaned inactive Americans contributing to the obesity statistics you hear so much about.

Also, I blame living in the suburbs. The suburbs suck really hard in a lot of ways.

And I am full of excuses.

God, KQED is running calls from people suggesting their favorite places to run in San Francisco. Guilt, guilt, guilt. Running is bad with boobs, though.

I am, in a lot of ways, filled with loathing for my current situation, and though I'm not entirely powerless to get out of it, I feel a sense of obligation to keep at it, at least for awhile. Maybe things will improve, or I'll at least feel better about them.

Our lawn requires mowing (supposedly according to the laws of the City of Milpitas). We do not want to mow it because we are lazy and it is very, very tall. I refuse to do it; Kevin said he would, once, last Sunday, "after [he] eats." He ate after dark and went to work and did not mow the lawn. I think we should just hire someone, seriously, because fuck it. I also think people who rent houses should just hire people as part of the lease if they want things done right, but what do I know? I am just a lazy non-homeowner.

Finally, I watched two movies so far this week:

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, which I really want to watch with my nieces, for some reason, and think I would have loved to see as a kid. It's a nice little movie. Normally I have zero interest in anime, but I have loved all Miyazaki I've seen.

Bad Education, Almodovar's latest, which has a male lead character for once. (He may have other movies with a male lead, but I've seen more than a few of his movies and they all had female protagonists.) It's an interesting story involving a priest abusing a choirboy and breaking him up from his beloved peer, then writing a story about it as an adult. I'm not sure how it got the NC-17 rating, though, because the sex was no more explicit than a lot of R movies. Maybe because it was gay sex, that is somehow more graphic. Whatever. I'm over 17 and can watch whatever the fuck I want to.

Who likes music?

Anyone? Bueller?

Fri     04/22/05                 Pleaseeasaur             Hemlock
Sat     04/23/05                 Amy Correia              Bimbo's 365 Club
Tue     05/03/05                 Sloan                    Slim's
Wed     05/18/05                 The Books                Cafe Du Nord
Fri     05/20/05                 Mike Doughty             Cafe Du Nord
Thu     05/26/05                 The Gossip               Bimbo's 365 Club

Watching Vera Drake today made me cry. We Don't Live Here Anymore was only okay.

I have new bras. They are Wacoals. They are pretty damn nice.

I need to pick an internist at the Milpitas Kaiser facility within a week, or they will pick one for me. That sounds so ominous. I need to go use my benefits.

That is all. I am on the rag, but I was not incredibly sick today. That was nice.

Bad and good.

Bad: I set the DVD-R wrong last night and failed to tape Veronica Mars. This made me irrationally angry. Someone on TUS offered to send me a tape, but I am not sure it is necessary. Sweet of her to offer, though.

Good: Netflix let me report the mislabeled DVD as lost, finally, so this week I should get 3 DVDs again. Maybe Sideways. That would be great.

Also, my cupcakes were good. But also, evil. That's the trouble with things containing a pound of butter, four eggs, and a cup of sour cream. Yummy.

Cupcakes are made of death.

I swear these are going to kill me, anyway. The batter has a consistency approaching dough (drop cookie dough, anyway) and contains 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup full-fat sour cream. I don't know what the fuck I'll do with the remaining sour cream when the two batches are finished.

But HOLY GOD, do they look like they will taste awesome. Like artery-clogging awesome. What better way to honor a coworker who is about to have a baby? I can't think of one.

I don't know what to report about this week. It was a week. Work is starting to get busy. I was forced to socialize with coworkers Thursday after work and drank so much water, I thought I was going to explode. (Needless to say, almost everyone else was drinking something a little less hydrating.) Being a non-drinking semi-vegetarian makes for strange company in most circles.

Netflix is fucking up again, which is wonderful. Last week they sent Homicide: Season 1&2, Vol. 1, but disguised as Vol. 2. I had just returned Vol. 1 (not disguised as anything), so I did what I thought I was supposed to do: reported it as mislabeled and mailed it back on Monday with the other two movies. By Tuesday, Netflix had received the other two movies. As of now, they haven't received the mislabeled disc, but I can't report it missing, because apparently, if you report one problem, you're spent. No more problems are allowed. So I emailed customer service, but have yet to hear back beyond the confirmation message. Grrrr.

Maybe I will write more later, but that was about the extent of my week outside copious Tuesday-TV watching. Why must House AND Veronica Mars be so good and on at the same time? Why are Scrubs and The Office, which I would like to give a second chance, on then, too? And the goddamn Amazing Race? Fuck you, network programmers.

Teh intarchatweb is funny.

Things which are good or at least not terrible.

Things which have happened this week. Things which may be HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. Things you may not even know about.

ALL THIS WEEK...ON AS THE EMILY BLOGS.

I...hi.

Dude, the Decemberists were fuckin' great. Also, all their shit got stolen in Portland just days before, so if you are into them, try to pick up a legit copy of the new record. Or go see a show. Anyway.

So I went up to SF Wednesday night with Jessica. We were both dead fucking tired, but the show? Was totally worth it. The trip to Bimbo's was in three parts: Drive to Bayfair Mall, BART to Embarcadero, hoof it to North Beach. Our timing was impeccable, as we arrived around 9 p.m. and the Decemberists were on stage within 20 minutes. The show let out a little after 11, leaving us just enough time to make it back downtown to catch the last train to the East Bay. Also, Jessica paid me back for the ticket by buying me their new CD, which rocks, but more on that in a minute.

It's a rare show that features a lot of new music from a band I already really like that makes me really want to hear it all again. Usually, I'm interested in a couple songs and bored by the rest. I dug pretty much *all* the songs I didn't already know, and most of them were on the new CD. The performances were over the top. They really nailed it, and with brand-new instruments, too (see: shit was stolen). Totally satisfying, and of course, they played many of my favorite old songs, like "Grace Cathedral Hill." Because how could they play San Francisco without playing that goddamn song? Really.

Okay, other things. Kevin and I braved the astonishingly strange weather last Sunday afternoon to walk around the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge. We got sopping wet and our boots were caked with mud. It was pretty nice, but the weather was nuts. When we got home, I saw on the news that a freaking TORNADO touched down that same afternoon just across the Bay, if that gives you an idea of the insanity.

Mostly, though, this week has been a work week. Someone cool is leaving, some new people are coming in, and I got thrust into an interview looking slovenly and having just gulped down 32 oz. of water, which was, needless to say, a very bad idea. Half the office left today before noon, if they were there at all, and I was home by 3. Ridiculous. The last time I got time off for Good Friday was when I was attending Catholic school.

Our internet connection has been spasming every evening all week, which is annoying as hell and making us consider switching to DSL. And, um, cable is now motherfucking $60 a month? Huh? Speakeasy OneLink is practically *cheaper,* and definitely less evil.

We need to cut out lawn. It is a jungle. Also, the front yard smells excessively floral, and the neighbor's cat, who likes to hang out under my bushes, is scared of me.

Nothing else is going on. I would like there to be, but I can't have everything just for the wishing.

Commercials I hate.

Besides all of them. There are a few I actually like, but this post is not about those.

#1 offender: Carl's Jr. ads. Namely the one with the cgi fetus threatening to rip out part of his mother's womb "on the way out" if she eats more jalapenos. I know I'm not in their target demo, but...I just want it off my TV. So gross.

The Lay's "get your smile on" ads. With the kid who won't smile for a Sears fucking portrait until his worried parents nervously pull out a bag of potato chips, at which he cries, "Cheese!" Because, why smile if your WASPy parents aren't bribing you with disgusting salt and fat-laden empty calories? Get your smile on my ASS, bitches.

Commercials for local mainstream radio stations. Lately, the ad for a new popular country station, "The Bear," has been driving me absolutely insane. They keep playing clips of awful, catchy songs, and the goddamn MIX gets STUCK IN MY HEAD. AAAAAGGGHH.

McDonald's and Wal-Mart. Mainly on principle, but also because they promote perverted American corporate ideals that sicken my heart.

That Ford Focus commercial with the girl who's smugly discussing her new car and acts all indignant when her friend states that he was considering a Civic. Yeah, because buying a car that's reliable and has a decent resale value is just retarded. But her Ford Focus came with a moon roof and an MP3 player! And an "environmentally friendly" engine, whatever that means! And you can't get all that in a Civic! Just shut up, bitch.

Yeah, okay, just for fun? I like the Geico "Tiny House" commercial. There, I feel better.

"This is NOT awesome."

The week is long.

And I am tired.

For the first three days of last week, I started my morning before 7 and took a walk around the neighborhood, followed by a little jump roping (jumping rope? Rope-jumping? The correctness of any usage is unclear). This made me VERY tired all day, because apparently I need that extra half hour in the mornings to get my shit together. Or maybe I just always wake up tired.

Either way, I totally punked out on Thursday and Friday with regard to my "fitness" plan, but tried again today. In the rain. My pants are wet and it's not my fault. Blame it on the rain, YEAH YEAH.

A number of intriguing links have popped up while I've been at work, and it was not, at the time, appropriate to get on Blogger and share them with you. Some people already know I keep a blog and are aware of the domain, and...yeah. Not that they'd come over to me all, "Why weren't you putting red ink all over something instead of posting to your childish BLOG, little girl?" if they even read it, but you know. It IS in the employee handbook.

Anyway, yeah, intriguing links. I'll pull 'em up in a minute.

Margot came over Wednesday night, by the way. We ate tilapia, asparagus, salad, and apple pie. I put probably 40-some damn miles on my car transporting her to and from Fremont, but we had a good time.

And now it's raining. I so wanted to go hiking this weekend. A wussy day hike, but a hike all the same. Maybe the weather is nice when you drive inland. I'm picking up my new backpack and water bottle from REI today. The pack is red and the bottle is blue.

Speaking of blue, I bought a Le Creuset dutch oven in blue this week from Amazon because it was on sale: $154 instead of $250, plus $25 off with a code, plus free shipping and no sales tax, plus a free (insanely backordered) 1 1/4-qt. saucepan. Yes, that is a lot of money to spend on a pot, but it is supposed to be a superamazing (although not magic) pot that will last forever. (The blue is more subdued than it appears in the picture, though.)

Interesting Link #1 is about a new paradigm, I guess, for thinking about diet. I thought it was pretty interesting, and it made me want to go home and eat a pile of broccoli. Which, actually, I did.

Interesting Link #2 comes from the PoliTech mailing list and talks about a self-identified Canadian blogger who was refused entrance to the U.S. and harassed by the border guard for...we don't know why. But it's fucked up.

Interesting Link #3 comes from a blog I've been enjoying very much, but this particular post discusses an apparent link between European people who were resistant to the Plague and a genetic mutation in their descendants that makes them resistant or immune to HIV.

And finally, earlier this week, I felt like writing up a top 5 list of my favorite female rock performers. There were going to be comments, but work came in and I lost interest. However, I will share with you the list. Every time I put it together, I think of someone I forgot, though. What's yours?

5. Beth Ditto of the Gossip
(ETA: Janet Weiss of Quasi and Sleater-Kinney previously lived here, but I thought about it, and while Janet's contribution to Quasi, which I love more than I like S-K, is excellent, it's Beth Ditto's performances that kill me. And the whole band, which is not male-fronted. I don't really like Janet's songs on the Quasi records.)
4. Aimee Mann
3. Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth
2. PJ Harvey
1. Bjork

Fuck Sarah Jessica Parker and her enjoyment of being a girl. Fuck it in the eye.

Yummy Saturday.

Graylan just stopped by! It is always good to see Graylan. He's on his way to LA.

Also, I made some soup and some bread. I would like to share with you what was made, because it was good.

Curried Bean Soup

1 1/2 c. dry beans/grains mix (I used 1 c. Trader Joe's 17-Bean Soup Mix and 1/2 c. kidney beans)
1 medium onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 bay leaf
1 tsp. or so each of red pepper flakes, curry powder, cumin, coriander, turmeric, cayenne pepper
1 28-oz. can chopped tomatoes, not drained
salt to taste
water to cover

Precook the dry beans any way you want--I did the lazy, cheater method of bringing them to a boil then simmering for awhile, but traditionally, you'd soak them overnight then cook them, etc. If you are extra lazy, you could just use canned beans. Normally I would, too, but I had this dry stuff to use up.

Saute the onion and garlic with olive oil in a large pot. Add red pepper flakes and saute a little more. Mix in other spices. Add cooked (or partially cooked) beans, tomatoes, and water. Stir, bring to a boil, then let it simmer forever until the beans are fully cooked. Salt to your liking.

Lemon-Rosemary Polenta Bread

Going off this recipe for vegan cornbread, I devised this strange alternative.

Preheat oven to 400'F and grease an 8-inch round pan.

Mix together:
1/4 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. all-purpose or whole wheat pastry flour
3/4 c. dry polenta
1/4 c. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt

Add:
1 c. water or soymilk (including the juice of one lemon, optional)
1/4 c. oil
1 Tbsp. cornstarch dissolved into 1 Tbsp. water

Then mix in:
1 stem fresh rosemary, chopped (do NOT use dried herbs)
zest of 1 lemon

Pour resulting batter into prepared pan and bake until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean (approximately 25 minutes).

The bread should hold together admirably well, all things considered, though it may be delicate, so handle gently.

WIN!

Boots arrived today. They are LOVELY. Also got paid, plus a $300 bonus, which is what happens when certain sales/collection/invoicing/whatever goals are met in a month: every full-time employee gets a bonus, depending on the amount of the goal met.

So in addition to having lovely new shoes and being able to pay for car insurance, I also just paid off the balance on my credit card. OMG AWESOME. And I am not totally shit-ass broke now, I don't think.

This weekend already rocks!

A productive 8:09 to 8:28 a.m.

Or at least one in which a lot of money was spent on (hopefully) worthwhile things.

I ordered this pair of hiking boots after checking, totally by chance, to see what was up with the models I'd bookmarked awhile ago. And wouldn't you know it, they were on sale. So, bye, money.

Then I headed over to REI.com to find a daypack with (1) sternum straps, because they help if you're booby, and (2) two side pockets for waterbottles. I found it for...an acceptable price, and sprung for a 32-oz. Nalgene bottle (my other 32-oz. bottle is a crappy Eddie Bauer, but it ain't broke). I told the site I wanted to pick up my order from a store rather than pay shipping. Pfft! Shipping. It can't cost $6 in gas to get to Fremont in a '99 Civic. Well, maybe if gas prices go up just a little more...

In the midst of this hopeful outdoorsy shopping spree, my mom messaged me to say her Southwest Airlines "Ding" application brought up some do-or-die, today-only, super special deal between San Jose and Seattle, $52 each way, which she was able to book for me to go home Memorial Day weekend. Yay!

The rest of the day was pretty blah, since I was cooped up inside for most of it and sweating profusely anyway. Dude, I am not gonna like being here most of the year. It's already too fucking hot, and it's early March. I need to find clothes that look less slovenly for work and also aren't going to make me DIE.

OK, it wasn't quite DYING proportions today, but I can't imagine it will get much better, right? Heat = bad. Radio weather reports saying nothin' but 80' and sunny is "great weather" = stupid. Temperatures that knock me on my ass and ensure I won't do anything physical, ever = awful. See? Why did I leave the Pacific Northwest? We have like three of these days all year.

Speaking of things that are bright and blinding as the sun, what the fuck is up with those xeon headlights or whatever that are almost purple and make cars look like their driver saw no distinction between regular headlights and high beams? Californians are trying to get me killed, I'm telling you.

Anyone for a show or three?

And by "anyone," I obviously must mean the exactly two people from the Bay Area who read this. But if anyone else is interested, hey, new friends are good.

Friday, March 11: IQU @ Cafe du Nord

Quirky Olympia-now-Seattle-based dance-y indie pop. When I saw them before, the guy was playing a guitar, a theremin, and a turntable, and occasionally using the guitar neck to manipulate the thermin while he used his other hand to scratch. Also, there is a girl who does things with keyboards and such. They are neat.

Monday, March 14: Joseph Arthur @ Cafe du Nord

Kevin is interested in this one, but from what I heard, it didn't make me want to fall asleep or die. However, Monday shows that begin at 9:30 are problematic.

Wednesday, March 23: Decemberists @ Bimbo's 365

Already have my tickets, baby! And so does one of the people who read this. The other one wants to come. But for the sake of completeness, here it is.

Tuesday, May 3: Sloan @ Slim's

My sister says the sound at this club sucks, or so it did when she saw the Gossip there, but you know what? Sloan. Fuck it. Damn you, Canada.

Tuesday/Wednesday, May 17-18: The Books @ Cafe du Nord

None of y'all will have even heard this band, I bet. But I swear to you they are interesting, and I have no freakin' idea how they can do a live show besides maybe a laptop, but if it's not as interesting as the record, I will be sad.

Friday, May 20: Mike Doughty @ Cafe du Nord

Is it not cool to like the guy from Soul Coughing anymore? I think he's handy with an acoustic guitar alone, and that by itself merits a ticket for me. And for my sister, who will finally be 21 and able to come along.

I keep hoping I'll see something in April I want to spend money on, but it hasn't happened yet. Oh well, I'll have a busy May, at least.

What's going on?

I had some delicious green curry tonight at a nearby Malaysian restaurant, Banana Leaf. When I ordered it, the waiter told me it was VERY spicy, and was I sure I could handle it? I confirmed that I liked spicy, knowing their regular red curry is fairly mild.

The green curry was the perfect amount of spiciness, with a hint of a smoky flavor and a lovely assortment of vegetables and tofu. But when the waiter came by to check on our meals, he made a face at me and asked if it was too spicy. I can't quite explain it, but he fully seemed to expect that it would be way too spicy for my delicate white-girl palate. I delighted in telling him it was not.

This weekend was interesting. On Saturday, I spent the first half of the day being pissed and depressed because I wanted to go spend time with Kevin in San Francisco and see my sister and stuff, but Kevin did not want to go. It was one in a long list of things I'd wanted to do with him, things I am under the impression he generally enjoys, which he has refused to do in favor of doing nothing. And then he complains about how much TV I watch? Yeah.

Fortunately, there was a great reversal of fortune in that his dad called to invite us to go hiking with them on Sunday at Pinnacles National Monument and we both wanted to go, and since he asked me to do something with his family, he felt he couldn't, in good conscience, turn down my request to do something with my sister. So we went to San Francisco.

It was pretty easy to park and ride via Bayfair, where BART does run late directly from the city, unlike certain stops closer to home. We ate dinner at Shalimar on Jones, then walked to Polk and passed the other Shalimar on our way to the Lumiere to see a bunch of animated shorts. Also, there were crepes somewhere in there. And prostitutes on the side of the road. And Kevin had bubble tea. Ew.

We didn't get home until 1 a.m., and I set my alarm for 6:45 so I'd have time to prepare some food and pack a bag before our 8 a.m. departure.

Both of us were exhausted in the morning, but we arrived at the park around 10:30 and almost immediately proceeded to begin the hike. First we walked through park of some caves, but somehow missed all the caves after we climbed above the waterfall. Then it was the High Peaks Trail, the "Steep and Narrow" route to the Condor Gulch trail, which winds around the dramatic peaks and heads back to the visitor center from which we came. It was a beautiful hike, and the weather was perfect: just warm and sunny enough that a t-shirt was just right, not so hot that it felt like burning. Despite my incessant 30 spf sunblock slathering, though, I managed to get a little color on my face and arms.

The hike also reinforced my need to do this kind of thing more often, as it remains about the only form of exercise I like that doesn't involve inconvenience for little reward. (I hate gyms. HATE.) Like I told Kevin, we need to do this every weekend--okay, maybe not exactly that, but even a couple hours in the open spaces in the Palo Alto Hills would do the trick--so I can get good enough that it doesn't kill me. And also, proper hiking footwear is desperately needed. An extra water bottle and a handy, balanced pack wouldn't hurt, either.

That night, tired and stinky, we went to the other Malaysian restaurant in town, Penang Garden, which has a nearly identical menu and similar quality of food. All I wanted, though, was a simple fried rice, which is what I got. Kevin got something with tofu and mango (in the mango skin, no less) slathered in a nice sweet and sour sauce. Yummy.

Apparently Graylan is swinging through town this week, so I hope I'll get to hang out with him. Yay for the people I know!

Remembering Suka Suka.

The itinerary read Kuala Kangsar, but where we ended up wasn't really anywhere.

Oh, it had a name: Suka Suka Lake Retreat. It was a series of cabins on an island in the middle of Malaysia's largest lake, a waterway created by a dam and populated with exotic flora and hundreds of nameless landmasses. Our hosts, a Malay couple with a newborn son, navigated the complicated maze from the visitor pickup spot on one edge of the lake to their island home, then the nearest village, via motorboat. The ripples the boat left in its wake were almost as tranquil as the motor was loud.

Out there, so far from anywhere I don't think I could even tell you where I was, there was such a different state of mind, it was amazing.

I often think of one evening, when I spent an hour in the hammock teetering just over the water. A thunderstorm was brewing behind me, but before the rain, I took a few moments to relax and enjoy the gray.

There was nothing like it in the world. Unless, of course, you were someone who also experienced it.

Usually, banner ads are dull, if not downright annoying.

But sometimes... sometimes you find a gem. Or, in this case, a pair of gems.





Had to share.

More referral logs!

I'm sure these people will never come back here trying to find what they couldn't find before when they reached my site in the first place, but I thought I could try to help out, anyway.

"kids lip synching"
If they were looking for that godforsaken compilation, may some higher power have mercy on their souls.

peanut butter and jelly "that's what i like in my belly"
You wouldn't believe how many people find my site with this exact search string. It warms my cockles, it does.

"hard 'n firm" rodeohead
I believe the performer you seek, sir, is Hard ' Phirm, and they are quite amusing.

cook's illustrated internship
Good luck, wow. That would be a rad place to work.

waitstaff mini pinstripe black pants
I'm trying to figure out whether "mini" modifies the pinstripe (like extra fine striping) or the pants (um, crops?), but either way, weird.

movie Intolerable Cruelty quotes Himalayan guide
I'm not sure what the Himalayas have to do with the movie Intolerable Cruelty, but that link should contain quotes.

Leprechaun pictures going over the rainbow
I don't even know where this is going. Google's image search might be a better starting point, though. Or Lucky Charms. Aw, the search for that link also brought up a story about the founder of the cereal, who was killed in a car crash.

"you make me nervous" hella hella hella lyrics
This song was performed by the band Gravy Train!!!, who happen to share a label with the band, Hella. Confusing, ain't it?

trader joe on milpitas
Much to my dismay, there is no Trader Joe's in Milpitas. The closest is either in Fremont or somewhere in San Jose or Santa Clara or Sunnyvale or something. I go to the one in Campbell, though, since it's close to my work and a decent Whole Foods. I am a grocery whore.

"abc family" "gilmore girls marathon"
Here is ABC Family's Gilmore Girls site, which should point you in the right direction. Alternately, you can catch up on plotlines and snark at Television Without Pity.

Also, I really liked 12 Angry Men, and was amused that Sidney Lumet won the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Oscars the same day I watched it. I would be catty and discuss the Oscars, but really, it was boring and stupid and I don't know why I wasted most of my Sunday evening watching it. I do know that I would've been pleased with Kate Winslet winning Best Actress over Hilary Swank, who needs to shut the hell up. Also, Kate is prettier. That is all.

YAY! New music!

Or new to me, anyway. Or owning these particular pieces is new. I've heard them before. Or some of them.

Kevin and I went to Rasputin tonight to spend my $20 gift card (and, um, then some). I ended up getting:

The Paper Chase, God Bless Your Black Heart. Because their mp3 on KRS' website was freaking kicking my ass. I'm one track into the rest of the album and, yes, I am pretty sure it's a keeper. It sounds like insanity, although not the kind of insanity that Xiu Xiu is, which is the kind of insanity I can't quite actually listen to, no matter how much I want to.

PJ Harvey, Rid Of Me. They had a used copy of Uh Huh Her, which I want and considered buying, except that this one, which I also wanted, was on sale for $2 less new than the used record, so what the hell.

The Mountain Goats, We Shall All Be Healed. Yay for the Mountain Goats.

Rjd2, Deadringer. Also, yay.

I was complaining to Kevin (which, I might add, is something I do a lot, because I suck) that they didn't have the Pixies' Surfer Rosa, and since I don't own that record, I feel a part of me is missing. He once again suggested I sign up for the free trial on emusic, which evidently has scads of music I would want available for download. It's some kind of mp3 subscription service that likes indie rock. It's like Netflix for music that you can keep. I am wary of "free" trials, though, so we'll see.

Speaking of Netflix, this week's rentals included the second disc of Bullshit!, which has left me sadly contemplating the reality of paper recycling (seriously, is it all a crock? I must do further research, someday), Dazed and Confused, which I enjoyed (and Ben Affleck still plays an asswipe! No wonder I hate him!), and 12 Angry Men, which I haven't watched yet.

Hoping part of tomorrow can be spent hiking around a nearby park, and maybe I'll get in a little moviewatching, music-listening, seed planting, and cooking. Maybe just laundry, though.

Yeah, this record is totally nuts. I like it, but it will require more listens.

God bless referral logs.

Or I'd never know that people found my site by searching for things like this:

kqed frontline iraq fuck
I'm sure a combination of all those words appeared somewhere on my blog, especially while I was working on the Islam project last spring (and with the addition of a sidebar link to KQED). I also know what this is, and I think everyone should watch it: PBS should be airing a Frontline tonight about the lives of soldiers in Iraq. Some stations may even air it unedited, because the filmmakers chose to leave in some of the language the soldiers used, which was littered with profanities (god, wouldn't you?). I couldn't find out whether or not KQED chose to air the edited or unedited myself, but I'll watch tonight and hear for myself.

where would u find warhols painting of mickey mouse
I have no idea. This is just a weird search, anyway, from ask.com. Not sure that whole "phrase it as a question" thing works if you don't spell out simple words, buddy.

concierto 2005 de air supply en mexico
Hee. I got spam about an Air Supply concert in Mexico awhile back, and I'm sure I posted it. Who knew there were so many Spanish-speaking fans of Air Supply? (I mean, one is kind of a lot.)

"my work has been commended as being strongly vaginal"
The Big Lebowski is my favorite movie ever.

edwardian ladies peeing
No idea.

yummy yogurt xmms
...Yeah, what? Mmm, delicious open source mp3 player-flavored yogurt.

I give you my last post as prime evidence of boredom.

I mean, come the fuck on. I posted from work about my lame-ass lunch.

Recent movie watchings? Sure, let's do that.

The 400 Blows was good, but not good enough to make me pay a ton of attention. This is what I get for watching TV when (1) the screen is 13 inches, and (2) my computer with Internet connectivity is 90' to the left.

Last week's batch included Rashomon, The Battle of Algiers, and the first disc of the second season of Penn & Teller: Bullshit. Yes, I am trying to get my movie edumification on. Well, beyond those film classes I took in college. And also, I like TV with swear words in it. That is pretty much the entirety of my Netflix queue: critically acclaimed films, and swearing.

The Penn & Teller is more of the same, if you've seen the first season, but it's still good. Their biases are patently obvious, but it's entertaining nonetheless. Better than, say, the vast majority of the crap on network TV most nights, except Tuesdays, when I have an overrun of stuff I like. Stupid Tuesdays.

Sunday I watched both the old black and whites. That was a little heavy, but both were outstanding films, even on tiny, stupid TVs. I can totally see where other films would be influenced by both of these. Algiers, in particular, reminded me in some ways of the recent City of God, which is a film you should see. Unless you are my mom, in which case you would probably find it too violent.

Algiers actually made me a little contemplative: what would it take for me, and for all Americans, to get as het up as the Algerians in that film? Granted, we don't have as something as clearly wrong as another sovereign nation occupying and ruling us, but what would it take? It was a fascinating look at revolution without any hand-holding. I found the exposition of the characters who would commit such acts of violence totally compelling.

And yeah, there is of course the point about the status of the occupiers--that is, one could interpret in a modern context, us in Iraq. That was interesting, too. I don't have as much to say about that, though. Probably anyone who reads this is somewhat aware of how I feel about that situation, and if you're not, hi, check out the stupidly liberal links to the right.

I am waiting for Netflix to get its shit together and send me the goddamn Motorcycle Diaries. It also claims to have a "very long wait" for Happy Together, which I also wanna see.

Dude, I am so bored. At least we finally had a bunch of work to do today, which should continue throughout the week. But quelling the boredom with actual work only goes so far--namely, 5 p.m. Then I get maybe 30 minutes of excitement from traffic, then... well, it's reruns and shit TV.

But hey! In a month, I get to go see the Decemberists again! Wooooo, bouncy music. I hope they play that song about San Francisco that makes me cry.

I have struck lunch GOLD.

After two and a half months of struggling with this lunchtime problem, I've finally packed a lunch that is both healthy and delicious. And it's freaking homemade. I RULE.

1. Leftover chickpea, potato, and kale soup. If only I made things this yummy and suitable for leftovers every night. Maybe I will post the recipe tonight, if it wasn't already up from the last time I made it (with spinach).

2. Whole wheat pita with peppered tofurkey slices, tomato, mixed greens sprouts (they are green with purple stems and SO pretty), and a tiny bit of soyannaise so it isn't terribly dry.

3. Baby carrots.

Those suckers eating from McDonald's don't know what they're missing. Lovin' it, indeed.

(Okay, actually, most of them would probably hate my food. But whatever.)

Nothing to say, but it's OK.

So I was chopping onions last Sunday and cut a little chunk out of my thumb on accident. Ow. All week, I couldn't really do the dishes, so it wasn't much of a cooking scene in the kitchen.

We did watch a few movies, though.

Last weekend's rentals were Do the Right Thing, Boogie Nights, and Before Sunrise. They were all pretty good films, though I had to send them back through the mailbox outside my office instead of at home since last time our Netflix selections were stolen.

This week, we have Mississippi Burning (Kevin's pick), The People Vs. Larry Flynt, and The 400 Blows. I haven't watched the latter yet, but the other two, in their historial courtroom drama-y goodness, were enjoyable. I think I liked Larry Flynt more because there's just something about the First Amendment that makes me cheer.

Oh, and hey, if you have Netflix and you want to be my Friend, lemme know. You can have things with purple stars, in addition to the gray, red, and yellow!

Also, strangely, Kevin's coworker lent him (forced upon him, whatever) an entire season of the British series Coupling, which neither of us is particularly fond of. "Do you wanna watch Coupling?" has kind of become this weekend's version of "We could go bowling."

I am missing a party at Margot's place in SF. I feel bad about this, but I am not sad about it. I don't really enjoy parties. Shocker. Also, I am totally lame!

Movie update, that's all. My thumb is healing. I spent some of day scrubbing things like the toilet and the bathtub. I need to do a goddamn load of laundry, I just remembered.

Might as well fuck a bunch of everything, for as much fun as this weekend is.

What day is today?

I woke up totally thinking it was Friday.

It's Saturday. I am now up pretty fricking early for a Saturday.

Good thing the house is disgusting, so I'll have lots of time to clean! Oh boy!

Yes, and also, last night, someone drive-by egged my car while I was pulling up to a stoplight on Merrill. There is egg behind my back right tire. Naturally, I was pretty pissed off about it at first, but now it's mostly funny. However, stupid teenage boys of America, take note: this does not condone such behavior in the future. Please egg only people you know deserve it. Thank you.

Gabe gives good mp3.

I've rediscovered my stereo in here thanks to him. And this Handsome Boy Modeling School/Cat Power song, "I've Been Thinking." Which is sexy as HELL. Holy fuck, people, find it. Then go get laid or die trying.

He has also been trying to catch me up on those indie bands everyone talks about but I never hear because I don't have KEXP at my disposal anymore (yeah, yeah, streaming whatever): the Arcade Fire, Bloc Party, Iron & Wine so far. And, yes, good.

That $20 Rasputin gift card is not going to go to waste whenever I get around to spending it, but I think I'm going to wait to blow my wad until I have a little more extra cash to buy stuff.

I am bored and alone on another Friday night, what a shocker. I've got a couple movies to watch, but I have all weekend. If I get bored enough, I might catch a $3.50 movie sometime this weekend.

Additionally, I stink because being a girl? Is evidently not kind to my digestive system. Ewww.

Now, where the fuck are the Girl Scouts in my neighborhood? Or harassing me via their parents at work? WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?! ...Oh. I just looked up the nutritional information on GirlScouts.org. Partially hydrogenated oils, pfffft! There's nothing wholesome about that!

Screw the Girl Scouts. They were the popular kids who hated me in grade school, anyway.

Talking in my sleep.

One of the bad things about living with someone is they know when you snore. One of the good things is they know when you talk in your sleep, and can write it down and remind you of what your mind was doing all night.

I know I sometimes say totally bizarre things in Stage 2 sleep—when I'm just drifting off but I'm fighting to stay awake—people try to continue conversing with me with strange results.

However, tonight's example is purely sleep talk. I don't know what I was thinking, but I do know that, on reflection, this isn't actually that far from something I would say fully awake.

kevin: you said "you're mean"
kevin: and i said "what?"
kevin: "you are talking in your sleep again"
kevin: "why did you say i am mean?"
kevin: then you said "i wasn't talking to you"
kevin: "who were you talking to?"
kevin: "the air"
kevin: and then you fell asleep again

The air is so mean. To steal a line from the Talking Heads, air can hurt you too!

I'm surprised I didn't say anything way worse, considering yesterday was a strange day. I had to drive my boss home because she got sick in the office. Two TV networks were playing really old movies instead of rerunning their regular shows. And I went to bed around 10 and am up now, at almost 7 a.m., from a sneezing fit.

Maybe the air really is mean.

Weekend Update, with your host...

Sorry for the lame SNL reference. I am video-starved since I sent back all three DVDs on Monday and have yet to receive confirmation from Netflix that they've returned. If I don't hear anything by this coming Monday, it's Report A Problem time. How sad.

The Life Aquatic has arrived in the Milpitas second-run theater, and as promised, Kevin will go see it with me. He WILL. Except that he knows Tuesdays are $1.50 days, so that is when he wants to go. Not on the weekend, when we have all day and it's $3.50. Because that is such a financial burden for the pleasure of seeing a film in the theater. Pbbbt. My main problem with Tuesdays is my evenings are already booked solid with all my favorite TV shows (although I must admit Gilmore Girls' merits are waning), but I can tape them/download them if necessary, I guess. It's just stupid.

Oh, and I'm full-time at work now. Yay! I was also wrong, apparently, about when my benefits kick in: it's 90 days after I started working for the company, period. Meaning in March, I can go get my allergies fixed, get all those valuable girly exams, and possibly even make sure my eyes aren't getting significantly worse. So these are all good things. And work is busy, which is also good.

Today I went to McCarthy Ranch, which is a group of giant chain stores near the 880/237 interchange in Milpitas. There's a Borders, Best Buy, Michael's, and motherfucking Wal-Mart. There is also a Loehmann's, where I picked up a simple (not lacy! Hate the lacy!) black Wacoal bra for $25. I am afraid I will still need to go to Macy's or something in hopes of finding one with wider straps because this might not be the best solution, but it's preferable to the shitty Balis that are disintegrating in my underwear drawer. And there's a Ross, where I have bought many things, including a pair of dark gray pants today for under $3 which are quite nice-looking and comfortable. They were on clearance for $9, but rung up for $3. Score!

Speaking of deals, it only cost me $118 to register the Civic here. Astonishing. What's worse, though, is they did not even want to see my proof of insurance or smog pass. My license arrived in the mail, however, and I am bright red and glasses-free in it. Just awful.

Absolutely nothing else is happening. I made some the fragrant coconut milk chickpea stew from this book my mom sent me, A Beautiful Bowl of Soup, and I was so disappointed. It was horribly bland, despite having everything going for it. I'm going to try to fix it today, but god, it was so sad. There were two freaking serrano chilies, chopped up with the seeds and pith and everything, and it was still bland as hell. Sorry, mom. The other thing I made from that book was better (Moroccan carrot-chickpea something, yellow from the turmeric).

Netflixes of this past week.

Better get up to date. Better keep up with the onslaught of films. Hah.

Last week, we had a bunch of documentaries.

Keep the River On Your Right was pretty interesting, but didn't grab me. Strange, considering it is supposed to be about cannibalism. It wasn't, though, really; it was about an artsy New York anthropologist and artist who spent time among remote tribes, some of whom had cannibalistic rituals.

Dark Days, about the people who lived in shantytowns in the New York train tunnels, was fascinating and eerie, but not as bleak as it could have been, which was good. Although their homes were taken away, many of them were able to resettle themselves in apartments, thanks to the Section 8 program. Pretty affecting stuff, though.

Rivers and Tides I'm finally watching now. I enjoy the photography, but I feel I missed out by not seeing it on a movie screen, where the images could wash over me and envelop my vision space, instead of floating uncomfortably on the periphery on a 13" screen. It's very, very slow, but neat.

I also got the second disc of the first season of Chappelle's Show—having rented the first months ago from Reckless—and of course, it was funny as hell. But anyone who has cable and watched Comedy Central religiously (i.e., everyone I know but me) already knew that.

And because Kevin has been obsessively playing Tron 2.0 for the PC and exclaiming how much it is just like the movie, I rented Tron. Which Kevin liked even more than he remembered and I thought was weird and didn't always follow.

And yes, my car passed the smog check. I am awaiting proof of insurance. I paid more than I wanted to for both, but fuck it.

Emily has a tendency to blow up.

And when Emily gets mad, sometimes she refers to herself in the third person. But mostly she just swears a lot and stomps around.

I would like to detail the retarded little things which are building up to make me an angerball this weekend:

I have a list of errands to run today: smog check ($50, goddamn!), bank (money for smog check and vegetables), farmer's market, gas, post office to pick up the California income tax booklet. After doing these things, I plan on cooking and doing the California taxes by hand, because the online stuff is stupid because I didn't live here all year.

However, these things are all set aside until one other thing can happen: I need to get my parking brake down.

Kevin, when he drives me car like last night, which is sort of an irritating story of its own, sometimes sets the parking brake as high as it will go. I have never set it that high because I didn't realize it actually went that high. The maximum for me is something like two notches below that. And um, when he sets it that high, I can't unset it. It's physically impossible. The first time it happened, I was on my way to work and I had to drag him out of bed to unset it. You can imagine how bitchy I was about this.

So anyway, it's almost 11 a.m., the market closes at 1, and who the hell knows when the smog check place closes (I'm guessing 4). Kevin is, of course, still in bed, despite my shrieking at him. (Who doesn't love waking up to that shit?) So I have to wait and possibly cut out some of the planned errands.

The smog check must be done. I'm going into the DMV Tuesday morning and I have to have proof of insurance and a smog-happy certificate to show them before they'll let me give them an assload of cash in exchange for not getting pulled over for expired tags or something. Smog checks, from what I understand, should run around $30; everything I'm finding, even with coupons, even at test and repair stations (note for people who don't live here: those are supposed to be cheaper than the test onlies. This system is so ridiculous I can't stand it), is at least $40 and most places aren't open Sundays. One place I called answered the phone with fax sounds. So it's down to Mr. $50 Smog Check Place.

And then there's insurance. I hate my quotes. All of them. And the next person to ask me if I've checked Progressive gets a scowl. Because yes, I have, and their rates are the worst and their comparisons are useless. But I will buck up and slap down some money for something, I swear.

Yesterday it took three computers to convince TurboTax that a browser in existence was "compatible" with their software. But that was all done very quickly after that, so I'll live.

Oh, he's up. I'm out.

Self-medicating with fresh local produce.

You know, having basically no friends in this area, a boyfriend who works late, and a job where not much happens makes for a lonely, sad little Emily. This fact has been made readily apparent to me in the last week when, in conjunction with what I can only assume is the nasty thoes of PMS, I cried on two occasions and was sullen and pissy with Kevin and incommunicado with almost everyone else. I'm a lot of fun.

Anyway, I kept trying to think of ways to put this that weren't "woe is me" crap when I realized this is a bunch of "woe is me" crap, which doesn't make it any less legitimate that I'm not feeling very happy, but it's not much fun to read.

I did do one enjoyable thing this week, though. On Tuesday, my sister and I visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium of loveliness. No stories, just reporting that something pleasant and different occurred. Pretty drive via Gilroy, cool fish, quality time with the one peer who's known me the longest (I guess that's fair to say).

But, yeah, I'm feeling a little peppier now—after last night, which was a disaster of driving to Downtown San Jose to find an Ethiopian restaurant that doesn't exist and going to bed without dinner, because, again, I'm a lot of fun—having been productive most of the day. I cleaned the kitchen, did dishes, filed my federal income tax return, and did some mad cooking.

Here is what I made. It turned out pretty well. Also, cutting things like onions and spaghetti squash with my big chef's knife? Awesome.

Green Vegetable Soup

1 or more leeks, chopped
2 russet potatoes, peeled and chopped
1 onion, chopped
1 or more head of broccoli, cut into florets
1 1/2 c. frozen peas
bay leaf
4 c. vegetable broth ("Better than Bouillon" brand comes recommended)
small handful chopped fresh parsley
salt and pepper to taste

Put the leeks, potatoes, and onion in a pot with the broth and bay leaf. Bring to a boil and simmer 10 minutes, stirring often. Add broccoli and peas, boil, simmer another 10 minutes and keep stirring. At this point, if you enjoy pureeing things in a blender or food processor, you can, but I prefer to skip the mess of all that and let the potatoes disintegrate into the broth and have a nice, chunky soup. Add the seasonings shortly before serving.

This recipe comes from The Greatest Ever Vegetarian Cookbook, although I've certainly fudged the details. Oh, and if you didn't notice, there is no oil involved, so this is probably reasonably diet-friendly if your diet is not wretchedly anti-potato. Also, be careful with the salt and the broth, because sometimes the broth can be too salty or totally unsalted.

Spaghetti Squash with Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto

1 spaghetti squash
1/4 marinated sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
bunch of fresh basil
3-4 cloves of garlic, smashed
1/8 c. toasted pinenuts
olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Cut the squash in half and scoop out the seeds and pulp. Place them skin-side up in a baking pan with approximately 1/2 c. of water and roast at 350'F for about 40 minutes or until cooked. You should be able to stab a fork in there and, when it's done, turn it over and pick at the flesh with a fork. It should be tender and the strands of squash will come out. This is totally a lot of fun. If you have a big squash, you might want to use only half for this particular dish and play around with the other half.

The pesto is fairly self-explanatory: chop up basil a bit, smash garlic, and put them in a little chopper/blender/mortar bowl with the pinenuts; mince into a pesto-y delight. Put it in a tub you'd like to keep it in, stir in salt and pepper, cover with a little olive oil.

When you have these components ready, toss the squash strands in a bowl with some pesto and the sun-dried tomatoes. It is mild and pretty tasty. Should go well with any number of dishes.

Yay.

So this week I'm doing the car registration crap, which is going to cost a lot of money and make me sad. Sadder, anyway. But for now, I have food. Yay for food.

Ray and faux-faux ham sandwiches.

Since it's Tuesday, the cheap theater has $1.50 movies all day, and Ray is one of them. And since we're not even close to being bogged down at work, I had the day off, and TV now officially sucks during the day, so... what he hell, right?

It was pretty good, I thought. The ending was overwrought, but the music was naturally fabulous and Jamie Foxx was believable (to my untrained eyes). I liked it. And it was cheap! Cheaper than a rental, and in the theater!

Kevin and I also tried the Vietnamese sandwich place on Abel at Calaveras, which turned out not so good because his "vegetarian ham" was not so vegetarian, in fact. I thought maybe it was just remarkably meat-like faux ham, but no, on closer inspection, it was totally real meat. I gobbled my faux (I hope!) shredded pork up too quickly to offer a share, so I can tell you it was tasty.

An irritated and hungry Kevin later told me he wanted to "boycott" the shop and drop the sandwich remains on their doorstep with a note about vegetarian vs. real ham. I told him that was probably overkill for a $1.75 sandwich.

We also took a misty sunset walk in the Palo Alto Hills area (er, I think; it's a big hill in Palo Alto, anyway), the Monte Bello Open Space. It was lovely, but we didn't have long to walk before it started getting dark. We'll go again sometime, though. The drive up is long and winding roads with plentiful opportunities to drive yourself into a ditch, like one woman we saw.

Anything else? No? Good.

OK, I liked it.

It wasn't the most super amazingest best deepest movie EVAR, in fact, it wasn't really a movie that required a lot of thought on my part. Thanks to the overhypedness, I could figure out where the non-linear plot was coming from immediately. But I did like it.

I'm still not caught up on movies, though. Need to see The Life Aquatic. Screw the critics. Hope it ends up in the cheap theater.

Once again, my silence speaks volumes.

So now that I've got the house basically settled, the job basically settled, and must have the car things resettled for California purposes by the end of the month, I'm realizing how little outside of those things I have to do, and it makes me have nothing to write about.

There aren't even new episodes of TV shows I can rant about. Nothing.

The only thing happening at work is something that I find quite engrossing, but everyone I've yammered at about it looks extremely bored, so yeah. We are rewriting the QA manual, which was in desperate need of an overhaul. It is a project that allows me to do stuff I'm good at and also emphasize stuff I've learned about the job. Anyway, I'm not bored, so screw you all.

I'm just bored with everything else in life.

Netflix is working beautifully, of course. We finally watched Osama last night, which was very sad but good and not quite as horribly awful to watch as you would imagine. (I mean. It's awful to watch, but it isn't as blatantly violent and terrible as some other movies are.) It made me feel sad on a level that an American movie, even one on the same topic, couldn't approach. No sappiness, no ultraviolence, no scenery chewing, no swelling strings over a montage of overlaid images.

Also watched Garden State the night before, which was pretty good, but not amazing (sorry). I did enjoy it, though. Some good stuff.

Today I have Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I'm convinced I must make my own mind of BUT the hype and criticism surrounding it will no doubt drown out my ability to make an unbiased impression. So, nuts to all of you who have blathered about the film and nuts to me for being too poor/cheap to go see it before all the talk.

My 8" chef's knife is a thing of beauty, also, if I didn't already mention it. I don't know how I've used those dull monstrosities for so long. I can even sort of chop onions without crying too much (I used to just quarter them and put them in the chopper). Even so, I haven't cooked nearly enough lately. I must get back into the habit.

We did check out two restaurants we'd never been to this weekend. The first was a vegetarian Southern Indian restaurant in Santa Clara, where we gorged ourselves on two platters. Most of it was pretty tasty, although there were a few minor issues. One of them was that, to me, at least, there was simply more food than I could stand to sample without being way too full. But now we know, and if there is a next time, we can order more wisely.

The other was a Thai restaurant on the end of a strip mall here in Milpitas, which was not very good. Kevin is also convinced that the waiter didn't like us or was afraid of us or something. It is in the same strip as an Indian restaurant we have been to that's pretty good, and a Vietnamese sandwich shop with a few tofu-based options we want to try. Vietnamese baguettes are so freakin' cheap, I don't know how we couldn't.

So, there you go. I just blabbed about the two things I always blab about: crap I'm watching and food I'm eating. And now it's time for me to get some breakfast (yes, at 11:30 a.m.) and watch some stuff.

Why it's a good thing I'm going full time this month.

Besides the slight pay raise, guaranteed 40 hours a week, and health care after 90 days, the idiots at KRON stopped the 2 p.m. airings of Cagney & Lacey that were the highlight of my lame TV-watching afternoons.

Does anyone have recommendations for inexpensive but decent quality daypacks and hiking boots? I'm in the market. My budget is under $100 for both items, which I've found at REI-outlet.com, but I want to shop around and solicit opinions.

Also, if you cared about the lyrics contest... I added the answers to the original post. Scroll away.

Resolute.

I'm not promising anything, but with the dawning of a new year comes a supposed clean slate. A bed to make. A new opportunity.

Whatever your metaphor, it is the time that people seem to make resolutions, or state goals for the new year. I don't think I had any, per se, last year, beyond "travel." Which I did a little of. I mean, I got my passport stamped a few times, went to a few places that are currently in ruin after the tsunami, crossed off a few more states from the 50, hiked to the top of a mountain, and drove over a few state lines with all my earthly possessions. I traveled from student to working suburban yuppie, and now I'm stagnant. A little older, but maybe not much wiser.

I resolve to get out of debt and be a financially responsible adult. I resolve to continue doing all I can in the choices I make to be environmentally responsible. That includes not rolling my eyes every time Kevin installs a compact fluorescent bulb in my desk lamp. I resolve to do well in my job. I resolve to make friends in this area, but not forget those in Seattle, because fuck, do I miss them.

I resolve to get out of the house more often, for things that don't include grocery shopping, work, and extraneous Target visits. I resolve to visit the places in the Bay Area that make it cool, and try to forget that most of the time I'm surrounded by suburban San Jose drudgery. I resolve to try to like the drudgery more, anyway. I resolve to force Kevin to force me to go for hikes. Maybe even try camping again. But we'll stick to hiking for now, because I've never not enjoyed a hike.

I resolve to cook more often and really work at being excited by the variety of healthy, delicious foods that have the potential of coming out of my kitchen. I resolve to try to grow at least one pot of tomatoes on my back porch, because I fuckin' love tomatoes. Herbs would be nice, too.

I resolve to fix this allergy shit and visit my mom.

And I resolve to get my hair cut so it stops irritating me.

Flatline.

So that contest looks dead. Hello? Anyone?

I don't know. I'm bored as hell and don't have to go to work until Tuesday. Tomorrow, I need to return this mattress pad to Target that I bought, washed, and discovered that the stated care instructions ("Machine wash and dry") were inadequate. The damn thing collected all the lint from its washer load, then the dryer melted the skirt part that holds it to the mattress. What a piece of shit. Got what I paid for, I guess.

Netflix has been good to me so far. I've made an insane queue, including a few with unknown release dates, and will be sending back at least two tomorrow. My mom has requested I review everything I get, preferably in a separate blog, but I think I'll just make notes in here. I don't think I could muster full-on reviews of everything.

But so far I've seen Maria Full of Grace, which was every bit as quality as I was told to expect, and The Office reunion/finale/Christmas special, which was a most satisfying end to that fantastic series.

We did jack shit for New Years Eve, as usual. I was talking to Aja about this: I can recall all NYE events since 1999, at least, and nothing freaking happens. Well, for '99, my then-boyfriend, his brother, and I went to First Night Tacoma, which was pretty fun, but usually, nothing. The past three years, I've greeted the new year with a snore--though last year it was a snore outside Tokyo.

I also haven't cooked much of anything since I've been home, though a vegan pesto made with fresh basil and a bit of nutritional yeast turned out well, and so did the chickpea and spinach soup I made tonight, which was a sort of hummusy soup with potatoes that I quite liked.

And it's raining in California. Like the state is having an identity crisis.

Lyrics Game, Part 2!

This time, the theme is: songs from CDs I took with me to Christmas!

I'm doing the first lyrics, first song with lyrics I can make out well enough to transcribe, as long as the first lyrics do not give away the name of the song, which would be indicated with "...". Some of these should be extremely easy. Some might not be. Um, and some aren't so much lyrics as samples or talking or what have you. Post your answers in the comments to receive credit: song title and artist. Album title if you know it.

ETA: The contest is now over, due to lack of responses. I'm adding the answers now.

1. "Liar, liar, with your pants on fire." Tom Waits, "Heart Attack and Vine"
2. "Gonna find a way to get home strong, gotta find a way back home." Mojave 3, "Bluebird of Happiness"
3. "I stepped onto the (unintelligible)way. I was looking for the pirate ship." Slint, "Breadcrumb Trail"
4. "He's just what people say he is." Plan B, "Rich and Greedy"
5. "People say they ain't got ... I got ... They go like this." The Gossip, "Rules for Love"
6. "... brings the dawn in. It's just a restless feelin' by my side." Velvet Underground, "Sunday Morning"
7. "This ... plan is random at best. This ..., how much more can I take." Built to Spill, "Strange"
8. "When I sat down on the bed next to you, you started to cry." Wilco, "At Least That's What You Said"
9. "Inside you're pretending, crimes have been swept aside." Portishead, "Mysterons"
10. "Thought I felt a chill, thought an underrated skill." Lambchop, "Daily Growl"
11. "Here comes the hardest part, but I don't need you, I can break my own heart." Track Star, "Feet First"
12. "Buy more stock in ... Millionaires will always woo." The Magnetic Fields, "Roses"
13. "My name is ..., my mother birthed me down a dry ravine." The Decemberists, "Leslie Anne Levine"
14. "Whoa, baby, you can walk, you can talk, just like me." Talking Heads, "Thank You for Sending Me an Angel"
15. "Don't fall in love with me yet, we've only recently met." The Magnetic Fields, "Absolutely Cuckoo"
16. "It's a ..., this life. Tryin' to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money, then you die." The Verve, "Bittersweet Symphony" (for the record, i cannot fucking believe no one knew that one.)
17. "..., mistakes, misfits. Raised on a diet of broken biscuits." Pulp, "Mis-shapes"
18. "Hey, I can't find nothin' on the radio. Yo, turn it to that station." REM - Radio Song (Aja)
19. "Have you ever been all right? Set up every single night." 764-HERO, "Oceanbound"
20. "If travel is searching, and home what's been found, I'm not stopping." Bjork, "Hunter"
21. "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine." Patti Smith, "Gloria"
22. "You walked into my house last night. I couldn't help but notice a light that was long lost still burning strong." Beth Orton, "Stolen Car"

This is missing three albums, two because the lyrics are too obscure to hear, and the other because it's too freaking obvious to believe ("Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band").

Because I'm unoriginal...

The Christmas Round-up of Champions -- Listmaking 1 and 2.

I gave away very few gifts this year, because I have been mostly unemployed, and also I suck, and also I had no idea so many people were going to give me gifts.

Mom: a 75-piece Dremel tool set for her birthday (shared with Margot), stocking stuffers including a few strange greeting/postcards, fat-free candy, Altoids gum, smelly soaps, Burt's Bees lip balm, and David Sedaris's Holidays on Ice
Margot: two books, "An Unquiet Mind" by Kay Redfield Jamison and "Slaughterhouse Five" by Kurt Vonnegut. She loves books about mental illness and has never read Vonnegut, which I thought was a horrible oversight on her part.
Paul: A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More
Kahnya and Putyda: three Dr. Suess books, "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish," "Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?" and "A Fish Out of Water." I read the first two to Kahnya at bedtime, which she enjoyed. I also made Tida a sock creature that looks very strange.
Kevin: we exchanged gifts a few weeks ago, actually, but I gave him the Seinfeld box set, a book about hiking trails in the Santa Cruz Mountains, and a pair of slippers.

So, now contrast that with stuff I got, and from so many people! I feel loved. And rude for not reciprocating.

Mom: Always a generous Santa. I got an 8" chef's knife, kitchen scraper, some cookbooks, another 6 months of Netflix, all four seasons of Mr. Show, the Nikki McClure 2005 calendar, a heated lap blanket, probably several other things I am neglecting to mention, and of course, the beach house and the food and the driving to Seattle when she didn't need to just so I could see my friends before I went home again. On top of that, she gave me $100 to "have fun" on New Years Eve. I am a lucky girl.
Margot: candy and other small goodies, licorice for Kevin, and two books, "Naked Pictures of Famous People" by Jon Stewart and "May Contain Nuts," which has several comedic pieces in it.
Paul: "Left of Cool" by Bela Fleck and the Flecktones
Kahnya and Putyda: no gifts for me, they were just cute and I got to hang out with them and aren't babies precious awwww.
Kevin: master of the practical gift I am too cheap to buy myself, he got me a fabulous toaster oven and a new computer case into which every part fits so the power supply isn't propped up on a piece of cardboard, hovering over the open case. This one also lacks ex-boyfriend karma and is pretty silver.
Kevin's dad: "America: The Book" by Jon Stewart and others for my birthday, and a warm and fuzzy fleece-type jacket for Christmas.
Kevin's mom: a heated blanket so I stop shivering in bed and subscriptions to two of my favorite magazines, Bitch and Seed.
Sarah: a pretty scarf and some nice smelly soap
Sarah's mom: bath gel and a scrubby
Josie: soap and a scrubby
Uncle Ken and Aunt Deb: a pretty purse
Kevin's sister: warm socks

I think that is a fairly exhaustive list. In less tangible gifts, I was able to spend time with Josie and Christine down at the beach, which was a lot of fun, and then they took me to the bus station so I could go to Olympia and spend time with my aging grandparents. The next evening, I got to go to Seattle and see my Uncle Ken, Aunt Deb, and cousin Sheila, who is my age and contemplating doing a teaching program in Japan after she graduates with her English degree this year. Then I got to spend a few hours with Jana, Lindsay, Graylan, and Chris, see Jana and Chris's truly fabulous new place, and eat at Neelam's on Greenwood, which was every bit as good as I remembered.

I may have more stories later, but until then... I'll post another stupid lyrics game in a bit. Maybe this one will be easier.

The end.

Since I'm leaving in a couple hours for the holiday, the Lyrics Game is now over. Aja won with four answers, and Julie came in second with three. Congratulations, guys! You win the satisfaction of knowing you were right!

1. Frank Black - Los Angeles*
2. Minus the Bear - Monkey!!!Knife!!!Fight!!!*
3. Thirft Store Junkies - Thrift Store War
4. Local H - Bound to the Floor*
5. Carly Simon - You're So Vain*
6. Old 97s - Nightclub
7. The Impossibles - This Is Fucking Tragic*
8. The Pills Kick In - Apologize
9. Super Furry Animals - Juxtapozed with U
10. Gravy Train - Hella Nervous
11. The Mountain Goats - See America Right*
12. The Refreshments - Banditos
13. Built to Spill - Girl
14. Ben Folds - Make Me Mommy*
15. Rjd2 - Ghostwriter*
16. Blondie - Divine
17. Luna - Friendly Advice*
18. Dead Kennedys - Chickenshit Conformist
19. AC/DC - TNT
20. Ween - Piss up a Rope*

The asterisk indicates ones that were guessed.

I don't have much to tell, except that on Sunday, Kevin and I went to Point Lobos with his mom for her birthday and saw a freakin' WHALE. It was a gorgeous day to boot.

We had no work today, basically, so I came home around noon. Kevin is supposed to come home at 3:30 and take me to the airport. I am hoping I can avoid checking my luggage, but I think it might be just slightly oversized.

The Song Lyric Game.

My brother did this, and he hardly listens to any music with lyrics, so here's my list. These are taken from a playlist sitting in my home directory. For fun, let's just use the first lines of the songs.

Post your answers in the comments and if you lack a blogger account, please leave your name. I'll try to cross these off as they're answered.

Also, you get extra points if you discover any mishearings (i.e., "'scuse me while I kiss this guy.").

1. "I met a man, he was a good man, sailin' and shorin'..." Frank Black - Los Angeles (Aja)
2. "'It's getting late,' she said. She touched my face. 'Let's stay out late as we can.'" Minus the Bear - Monkey!!!Knife!!!Fight!!! (Julie)
3. "They're fightin' on the aisle and they're fightin' on the floor."
4. "Born to be down, I've learned all my lessons before now." Local H - Bound for the Floor (Aja)
5. "You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht." Carly Simon - You're So Vain (Mom, who won't post a comment)
6. "1,800 miles from this ol' nightclub, a girl is turning 22 today."
7. "We've come to feel so cold." The Impossibles - This Is Fucking Tragic (Aja)
8. "I could be wrong and still I argue when I'm weak."
9. "It's easy when you know how to get along with a..."
10. "You make me nervous."
11. "I was driving up from Tampa when the radiator burst." The Mountain Goats - See America Right (Aja)
12. "So just how far down do you wanna go?"
13. "Sitting 'round the railroad station, reading books 'bout intimidation."
14. "Oh, mommy, she touched me, mommy!" Ben Folds - Make Me Mommy (Christine, because Kevin was too lazy to come post the ones he knew)
15. "B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-back again my nizzle." Rjd2 - Ghostwriter (Sammy was close enough)
16. "Not of this world, entirely."

And four more to round it out:

17. "Cover my face with roses, cover me head to toe." Luna - Friendly Advice (Julie)
18. "Punk's not dead, it just deserves to die."
19. "See me ride out of the sunset on your color TV screen."
20. "My dinner's on fire while she watches TV." Ween - Piss Up A Rope (Julie)

Some of these are a little obscure, while others will be obvious to certain individuals. Have fun.

Tomato soup.

It's delicious and worth waiting for, although I don't know why I did.

I've been wanting tomato soup and grilled cheese for two days now. I just needed to make the soup, which is... insanely easy.

Here:

-olive oil/butter (for sauteeing)
-one medium or two small onions, minced
-two or three cloved of garlic, crushed and minced
-a bay leaf
-large (28 oz.) can of tomatoes--the best would be a Muir Glen Organic fire-roasted variety, but you can make do with a lesser canned tomato as long as it's packed in water and not puree.
-appx. half a can of tomato paste
-diced zucchini or other vegetable, if desired
-1/2 c. dry white wine or sherry
-salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste

Saute the onions and garlic in oil/butter until softening, then throw in the zucchini, if you're using it, and the bay leaf. Open the can of tomatoes and drain all liquid into a 1-quart measuring cup. Top off with water until you have 3 cups of liquid. Set aside. Now chop the tomatoes if they are not already diced and stir them into the pot along with the tomato paste. Then add the wine and liquid, bring to a boil, and reduce heat to simmer for awhile. Add salt and pepper shortly before serving. Tastes good with a dollop of hummus, too.

So that's what I had for dinner, along with a bit of salad and a grilled cheese--sprouted wheat bread with some of the Mediterranean blend cheese from Trader Joe's.

Mmmmm.

"Moreso" is not a word and other lessons learned.

I'm 23 now, and I can admit when I've made a mistake.

"Moreso" is not a word. Until today, neither my boss nor I had any idea that was the case. We'd both used it as a word many times, then today the subject came up, so we consulted several dictionaries and Google, all of which shot us down.

I'm SO CONFUSED!

Heh.

We spent my birthday in Santa Cruz, mostly with Kevin's dad and his girlfriend. We hiked around Nicene Marks for a couple hours, made curry, and ate a crazy chocolate mousse cake thing from a local bakery that was to die for. (Really. It could probably kill you. But it was really good.) Then Kevin and I did a little Christmas shopping at Bookshop Santa Cruz and visited his mom before heading home in the wee hours of the morning.

I convinced him to come see I Heart Huckabees with me on Sunday afternoon. It's playing at the second run theater for a trifling $3.50.

Also, his coworkers have set up a website where they can ask him questions about being vegan. They call him Tofu. It's very amusing, but I'm not sure I'm at liberty to share the link. And also, it's Monday, which is a night of extremely terrible network TV, and I am watching probably the worst of the lot, which causes me to yell at the TV.

There are two work-related holiday parties this week, one of which requires me to dress up and socialize in the evening. Obviously, Kevin is not going to join me, because he doesn't do that kind of thing. The other one is a lunchtime potluck and Secret Santa gift exchange. I got a present for someone I barely know. I'm going to make hummus and bring pitas and pearl tomatoes.

This is a very boring entry, no? I don't know. There's isn't that much to discuss. I should go make some food involving this odd assortment of vegetables floating around my kitchen: beets (with greens), cauliflower (which I chopped up and froze yesterday, so it's not an imperative), zucchini, spinach, mixed greens, snow peas, and a yam. I'm thinking of roasting a few of those things, or making a beet-based soup and cooking some barley. I don't know.

GOD I hate these fucking McDonald's commercials. Almost as much at the Old Navy Christmas jingles. Those make me want to throttle my TV.

Songs that made my year.

Not a best-of list by any means, just music that got to me. That had an attachment.

1) "The New Year," Death Cab for Cutie. I started off 2004 by traveling to Asia and getting my passport stamped for the first time. The song is appropriate, and the album it's from kept me company on a few lengthy journeys from one point to another. They may be a Northwest band, but this song and this time I will forever associate with southern Thailand.

2) "Cry Me a River," Justin Timberlake. Am so not kidding, either. Heard this so many freakin' times during my three weeks abroad, I couldn't help but like it. Actually, it could be another Justin Timberlake single, for all I know, I just can't remember the names of any other song.

3) "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea," Neutral Milk Hotel. In a blatant attempt to revive my ailing indie cred... heh. During my two months of doing nothing before spring quarter, I picked up the guitar again a few times. This song's chord progression is simple (G, Em, C, D) and I always go back to it. It's all I can remember anymore.

4) "A Cautionary Song," the Decemberists. Or anything off Castaways and Cutouts, really, although I am fond of their most recent album, too. I forced my mom to listen to it on our long road trip for the 100 miles I drove I-80 across Nevada.

5) "Fit But You Know It," the Streets. I can't explain my attraction to this song. Gabe sent me the album, and I listened to it, liked it, but mostly forgot it, until this song got airtime on KEXP, and it got stuck in my head on a pretty regular basis.

6) "Hummingbird," Wilco. The more I listen to Wilco, the more I enjoy the shit out of them. They're just fucking good. This song is all super Beatlesque, but the harmonies are lovely.

7) "Mad Bombers," Plan B. I rented the movie "Network" and realized the voice samples in this song are from that movie. Awesome. Also, I saw Plan B perform at Bumbershoot after the Laptop Battle--who knew you could perform music with a laptop?--and they were pretty rad.

8) "Monkey Gone to Heaven," the Pixies. Because it's the motherfucking Pixies, and I saw them, bitches.

9) "Such Great Heights," the Postal Service. Oh, god, this goes on every indie chick's list from this year and last, but whaaaatever. It's great city driving music.

10) "Hallelujah," Jeff Buckley. Who would've known my mom and I could find common ground in music (aside from certain Beatles albums and Simon and Garfunkel)? May he rest in peace.

11) "Found a Job," Talking Heads. Hee. If you're not doing what you love... then something isn't right. Words to live by, especially when you're desperately seeking employment. And direction.

12) "See America Right," the Mountain Goats. I did a lot of driving this year, and I listened to one Mountain Goats CD repeatedly. It wasn't this one, but I still like the song.

How should the year end?

I can never go home again.

I'm not saying that like I can never go back to the Pacific Northwest and see people, or like I'd never even consider moving back. I just mean it in the philosophical sense, that home is an idea, and once you leave, you can never get it back.

It's a weird feeling, knowing you've left what felt like home. Knowing things are now different, I mean, really different. And that, in a small way, I have to mourn that idea of home, just as I did when I left Portland, as I did when anything major changes. A part of what was will never be again.

I'm getting used to it still. San Jose isn't a place I can really call home. Maybe someday, but right now, it's just the place I am. Kevin is more than the person I'm with, of course, but the place itself lacks that sense of meaning that makes a home. My whole identity, at least, many superficial parts of it, have been so altered that it will take time for the dust to settle and my self to re-emerge.

I know this is right. I know that it had to happen. I took graduated steps out of the nest and into adulthood. The order and the time were right.

Here in my room, I am surrounded by reminders of home. The sheets on the windows I used at the two previous houses. One was from my freshman dorm, the other from my sister's childhood bed. A poster in Russian from Christine, another of the Gossip, a band I saw with several friends on multiple occasions. A sketch of San Francisco my dad drew when he was in college. The vibrating hula frog my parents brought me from their last vacation together. The sarong I bought in Kuala Lumpur for too many ringgit, no matter how much haggling Meesh and Winnie tried. Dozens of framed pictures, mosting scenery, from car trips, family vacations, and old neighborhoods. A sculpture I made in 8th grade, my two best friends at my side; a painted dish from an ex-boyfriend's friend in Ann Arbor; a ceramic kitten from the Japanese teachers I worked for one summer. A collection of music that marks almost every day of the last nine years.

I keep these things around to let myself believe some part of the home I left still exists.

But here, it's as though I am barely born. The youngest in the office, alone and lost and hardly fearless in my navigation of these suburban streets, finding my way.

There is ration, and there is truth. And I hope I can measure out the appropriate amounts of each as fuel in the journey onward.

Temperature out of control.

This morning, it's 47 degrees Fahrenheit inside my house. I did not want to get out of bed, but I also can't stand to stay in bed with nothing to do when I'm no longer sleepy.

So I got up and turned on the heat, just enough so I don't freeze my leg hairs off (although perhaps that would be a reasonable hair removal method), came in here, and realized Kevin had moved my computer from the old case to this shiny new silver case, in which every component fits. It was a birthday or Christmas present.

See, last night, we both decided we weren't sure if our gifts to each other were reasonable (given the other person's gift) or extravagant, so we just got it all out of the way. I know. But we weren't going to be together on Christmas and, really, what's waiting another week for the birthdays? I know. Dorks.

The other thing he gave me was a nice convection toaster oven. I baked potatoes. Now I can make toast in the mornings without having to struggle with the lever that always pops up three times, then stays down until my toast is practically burned. It has a dehydrate mode that requires an additional set of racks, but that is still cool. I could make my own dried fruit! Why this excites me, I have no idea.

I gave him the Seinfeld box set (it was on sale at Fry's, but still a lot...only it's a much better deal as a set than as individual seasons), slippers, and a book on hiking trails of the Santa Cruz Mountains, which I hope we can use in the spring. His gifts to me were more extravagant, but in proportion to income or how much we'd normally spend on gifts or whatever, it came out even.

Okay, and the thing everyone actually cares about: work. Well, maybe you don't. Maybe you're just glad I'm not going to be whining about the wretched job application process anymore. Maybe you think I can't complain about being broke (but mister, you'd be wrong). But I'm going to tell you anyway.

Work is going to be a good thing. I like the people I'm working with, including my boss, in whose office I sit. The job has a steep learning curve and I can tell I am catching onto more and more every time I get my hands on something. At first I felt very, very dumb, but now I am pretty sure I'll get it. My boss tells me it will take six months to a year to learn everything, or enough that things will be truly my responsibility. (Not that I won't go full-time for that long, just that's how long it will take to really get it.)

It is almost a culture shock to be in an office with grown-up people all of a sudden. The politics of people at school are wildly different, in my experience, and the pool is a lot smaller. I am also the youngest person there, which gets a certain amount of ribbing. People take hourlong lunches to a variety of nearby establishments. Everyone complains about traffic. I don't know. I've grown up with a certain set of unconscious and conscious expectations about the office environment, so it's weird to step into that reality.

That, and the thermostat tends to be way up there, so stepping into the chilly noon or evening is kind of pleasant.

Coming home to it sucks, though.

Especially the water. No wonder I don't want to do the dishes.