"Um Boy," is usually my intial reaction to swallowing a big helpin' of humble pie. Man, there's nothing like being reminded of how old you are and I'm NOT even old.
On the evening of Day Two, Daddy and I went to the Gibson Bay driving range. Please keep in mind, although I played golf for the Madison Southern Lady Eagles (my high school) I haven't played a round of golf since then (eleven years). This means I haven't been to the driving range in a decade. That's a long time.
I used to love spending all day by the pool and all evening at the driving range. My mom and I would buy two or three large baskets (about 100 balls a piece) and hit for hours. Needless to say, I became good friends with Shawn, a guy who worked at the driving range. He used to come out and chat with me. Occassionally he would practice his "Happy Gilmore" swing which always made me laugh.
Shawn is no longer there, thank goodness some things change. One thing that had not changed was the range. It still looked the same. The viewshed was exactly as it was ten years ago. It was so chilly in Kentucky I had to wear my dad's windbreaker. Although it was misting I was determined to smack the crap out of some balls if it was the last thing I did. Let me tell you something, ladies, there is nothing quite as satisfying as a good evening at the driving range.
Although it had been ten years since my last visit it didn't take long to get back into "the swing of things." The best part of the evening was impressing my dad. He is the guru of golf. He loves it. He always has. He started caddying at 8 to make extra money for his family. Since then, every weekend I can remember Dad is either watching or playing golf.
He always wanted me to become a golfer. He put me in golf camps when I was a kid and then I played for my high school team. I always love it when he says, "You're just like your momma. She was such a natural. She had the most beautiful swing."
After two hours, a hundred balls, and a putting green later Dad and I decided to throw in the towel for the evening. By bedtime I was popping the extra strength Tylenol, hoping the pain shooting through my back and left forearm would subside. Realizing my body was unaccustomed to exercising those muscles made me realize just how out of shape I am. The eliptical is fantastic but it isn't the be all and end all of working out; obviously.
So if anyone is up for an evening at the range I would love to tag along because, really, who can get enough of humble pie?

Who would have guessed I would find a cut-out of Ms Knowles in a Richmond, Kentucky Wal-Mart? Not me.
This photo was taken by my very willing but confused father (not bad Dad) on the first day of my "Roots" vacay.
Enjoy!

Last Thursday my mother accepted a job offer from Johns Hopkins University to be a pediatric research nurse on a Apache/Navajo Indian reservation in Navajo, New Mexico. Plan A was: drive out tonight and arrive in New Mexico sometime Wednesday. In true Janice, (that's my mother's name and she hates it) fashion, she didn't leave as planned. Plan B: she will begin the journey west tomorrow. We'll see if this actually happens.
She also received a job offer to teach LPNs at a small community college in St Petersburg, FL today. I patiently reminded her that she hates Florida and would prefer to work with Navajo babies instead of young women who can actually talk back to her in a language she can understand.
The JH position is perfect, almost too good to be true. They are furnishing her with a house ten minutes from the reservation. She will be living in a town; population 900. Needless to say, there is not much to do out there but that's perfect for my Mom because all she does is read anyway.
My Mom has always loved Native American cultures. When we were kids she would buy us books about Native Americans or sit with us on the couch and flip through National Geographics, always admiring the different regalia worn by tribal dancers or the pinwheel hairstyles of young Hopi women. I inherited her love of and fascination for their cultures. This is one reason I minored in Native American Studies at BYU and took every opportunity to visit the Navajo/Hopi reservation in Arizona.
Besides, anything beats living in a nudist colony, right? Seven weeks ago I traveled to "Paradise" to visit my Mom and I couldn't even handle five days. Old geezers with schlongs hanging to their knees is not my idea of "paradise." My mom, although beautiful, would never participate and thus, never truly fit in. I'm not sure a 50 year old sassy blonde will fit in among Navajo and Apache women but anything beats naked old perverts.
Moving to New Mexico would mean, Amber, could visit for Thanksgiving and feast on Navajo tacos and fry bread instead of the traditional turkey and dressing menu we repeat at Christmas. Not that I'm crazy about babies, but I would love to see all the Navajo and Apache babies. There is something about their dark hair and eyes that melts my heart.
In crazy Mom talk, she said she was thinking about adopting one, which I will care for during visits. I asked her who would care for the unfortunate child when I wasn't "visiting." It was obvious by her silence she had not thought this far ahead. If the "babe" resembles the man in the above photo I'll "baby" sit anytime.
So, congratulations to my mother, one of the best RNs ever, embarking on an adventure that will take her from nudist to Navajo (New Mexico, that is).

Your Career Personality: Idealistic, Service-Oriented, and Future-Oriented

Your Ideal Careers: Alternative health practitioner Architect Environmental lawyer Librarian Magazine editor Museum curator Novelist Nutritionist Photo journalist Playwright

This weekend BG and I discovered Arrested Development with the help of our dear friend Gwen! All I can say is--How in the world didn't I know about this show sooner?

I'm not great at keeping up on television trends in normal hours. Now if there was a change in the format of Talking Sex with Sue Johnson--look out my friends! I'd be running a campaign. So, really I'm not surprised that I missed it. I just feel denied the opportunity of seeing this amazing feat of comedy when the other 7 fans were watching it.

If you haven't seen the show and you enjoy dark, smart humor you MUST see it. We watched *mumbled* episodes the other night and it still wasn't enough!

End rave here.

In our quest to bring you the hottest and funnest music allow me to introduce OK GO.

Although Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth was released months ago, Jerry and I were not able to see it until last night. It was well worth the wait. It was so much fun discussing the film's contents afterwards because Jerry is so passionate about the environment.
In the film, Al Gore basically gives a slide show presentation. He has been giving this presentation for over twenty years. My uncle saw this presentation in the '80's while working at EPA's regional office in San Francisco. It inspired him to make changes then that have impacted his actions since.
Jerry crossed paths with Al Gore again a decade later. Jerry was living in Arlington with my Aunt Nancy and was invited to the VP's home for a reception. Someone snapped a photo of Jerry with VP Gore during the party, which he proudly displays in his living room today. I used to look at the photo daily when I lived with him. Seeing it inspired me to do something more; to create positive change in my own profession.
I decided to post the movie trailer below for those interested in seeing the film. It is a MUST SEE for everyone. Exiting the theatre I couldn't imagine how any intelligent individual could deny the existence of global warming when the scientific evidence is so obvious.
After An Inconvenient Truth, Jerry and I went to Zaytinya's for a late dinner. Zaytinya's is a tapais restaurant, directly across from MLK library, that serves mediterranean and Middle Eastern cuisine. Like An Inconvenient Truth, its a MUST. The decor, the energy, the food, was fantastic.
While a student at BYU, the closest relatives I had were over two-thousand miles away. Its so nice having a family member minutes away. I can discuss things with him that I can't with anyone else because he knows and understands in ways no one else can. I respect his opinion and regard his advice as much, and sometimes, more, than my own father.
At the end of the evening, Jerry asked, "So, Amber. Are you ready to save the world?" I can't help but wonder if that's a question he asks himself everyday. He doesn't know but he has definitely saved mine a few times. Thanks Jerry for a perfect evening.

An Inconvenient Truth - Trailer

There was a sign tonight in the third row which read, "T-Shirt: $40, Tickets: $130, Dr. E. Live! PRICELESS!!!!" and that's exactly how I feel.

I don't know to describe properly the effect that this woman has on me. It's amazing. Tonight BG and I sat in the 14th row of constitution hall, near the center of the venue. It's an awesome venue to begin but these seats were phenom! At 8 Melissa came out and she finally left the stage at 11. She sang everything I wanted to hear--well, let's face it. She could start a concert and sing straight through the albums and I'd still not have enough of her! But tonight was fantastic! I heard Chrome Plate Heart for the first time live. And Bring Me Some Water. And all the hits were there.

And she's so beautiful. When she sings she's intense and alluring in a way that I've never seen before or since. Standing on the stage she's at ease and the audience gets to see reflections of her deepest being. She's sexy. She's iconic. Mostly, she's totally herself. Without apology or dilution. And that inspires me.

The encore nearly did me in. She sang Like The Way I Do and All The Way To Heaven. I nearly cried.

It's not just a concert. It's more like therapy. The energy of the crowd is positive. Melissa shares great messages. The music wraps around your soul in a comforting embrace. It's, as a whole, the most fantastic way to spend an evening. I was telling BG that, to me, Melissa feels like an old friend. She's been there in so many private moments of despair and exaltation that I can't regard her as anything less. And thus, I am a fan in the true sense of the "fanatic."

I just realized that I'm spending more time getting ready for the concert tonight than I do getting ready for Church.

And, ironically, I've shaved my legs for tonight because I didn't on Saturday.

There are very few bands that inspire me to the fervor of tattoo but Breaking Benjamin does. I love their logo, music, members and...well...everything. The new song is brilliant.



And the new album is only $10 at Target until the end of the week. Buy, people, buy!

Has anyone ever said this to you? How does it make you feel? Honestly this is one phrase that makes me "mad as hell."
Upon moving from 2035 F to 2147 F our Program inherited a new mailman. At the previous address our mail person was a woman. Whenever she would come into the office we would for a few minutes before she gathered our mail. During Christmas I even bought a sweet potato pie from her. No big deal, right?
My behavior towards our current mail carrier is not any different. I decided, even though he is a man, I would still be friendly. Knowing men can often confuse kindness with interest, I tried to limit conversation to safe topics, i.e., food, sports, etc. Despite all my precautions, I have won the affection of our mail carrier, whose name I don't even remember.
Every time he comes into the office he confides that "my stop" is his favorite and he "always saves the best for last." Whatever that means. At first I believed the flirtation was harmless but this week he has tried to ask me out twice. Not good.
Then yesterday evening this comes out of his mouth, "I can't believe you're leaving. You have just ruined my day. We should go to lunch sometime. YOU OWE ME."
I am sure, if asked, he would probably not remember having uttered such a blasphemous oath. Despite any protestation he could offer, the truth remains. A man told me I owed him and sadly he is not the first to say this. What makes men or anyone, for that matter, say such a thing? I owe my parents everything and they have never said that. OK. My mom may have alluded that I owe her something for the hours of hard labor she endured to bring me into this world but my dad has never even implied such a thing. Yet, a man, whose name I don't even remember, tells me I owe him?!
No matter what people do for me I shouldn't owe them anything. People are kind and giving because they choose to be. I don't do things for the sake of getting something in return. I give because I want to. My actions are motivated by love or respect, sometimes both. There is no alterior motive driving my actions. So, why, if someone does something kind for me, should I owe them something? I have never understood that mentality. Perhaps someone could explain it to me.

The fifth sentance of page 123 in Shackel's Myth, Memory and the Making of the American Landscape reads, "Landscape freezing not only affects the decision making of the professionals involved in the management of the site, but also influences how they interepret the history of the site to the public.
The subsequent three lines state, "After the Battle of Antietam, the single bloodiest day of the Civil War, more than twenty-three thousand soldiers were dead, wounded, or missing. The battle began at dawn on September 17, 1862, and by the next day Confederate General Robert E. Lee withdrew his army back over the Potomac. Many historians see the Battle of Antietam as a major turning point in the war."
I am not tagging anyone. Sorry for breaking the blog chain but I don't know anyone outside our circle that blogs. Love you all.

Tonight Mom and I, on the spur of the moment, decided to go to the ballet. It was (suprisingly to me) pretty good. The first arrangment was to Samba music--which I love. The last arrangement featured death (in a scarlet and amazing dress) dancing to bluegrass. The arrangment in the middle had nonsensical music that made it hard for me to enjoy.

On the whole, a fantastic evening with my Mom. And further evidence that I am becoming her.

Thought it might be better to post the video so you can get a better idea of why I love this song sooo much. The DC played it last night as their first encore song. It made the night totally worth it.


Dixie Chicks - Traveling Soldier

Tonight I am going to see the Dixie Chicks in concert at the Verizon Center with some friends from Museum Studies. I don't listen to the Dixie "Hicks" very often because their songs resurrect a few bittersweet memories I would prefer to leave buried. Lisa, my last roommate at BYU, and I used to go swimming every night at the University pool. During our travels we always listened to the Dixie Chicks. One of the songs we kept on repeat was Travelin' Soldier. For those who are unfamiliar with this song I have included the lyrics below. I am not sure why I love this song so much but I cry every time I hear it. Tonight I will get to hear it live. This is one of the reasons I am dropping $63 to see a band perform who I haven't even purchased a cd for.
The other reason I agreed to go, is Sara. Sara Devine, is a lady in the Museum Studies Program I met in a Longstreth class. An immediate bond developed when we discovered we both moved to DC from Atlanta and she is from Charleston, SC.
During my archaeology field school Sara's husband, Adam, asked me if I would go with his wife to the Dixie Chicks concert. Being a Republican, Adam refuses to support the Dixie Chicks in any way. Seeing how badly Sara wanted to go, I said sure. Who knows? Perhaps I will have a husband one day who will refuse to go places with me forcing me to rely on single, female friends as backup. Men. I just don't understand them.
I'm a little sad because this will be a solo mission for BG. Steph and I have become so close it seems weird making any memories without her. Thanks goodness for Melissa. Anyway, I plan on taking lots of pics to share. Wish me luck tonight.

Travelin' Soldier

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me,I'm feeling a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go

So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

Chorus:
I cried..Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home

So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's getting kinda rough over hereI think of that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile

[Chorus]

One Friday night at a football gameThe Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang
A man said folks would you bow your heads
For a list of local Vietnam dead
Crying all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read and nobody really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair

[Chorus]

[Chorus]

What is your salad dressing of choice?
Currently Stephanie's Vidalia Onion dressing which is really weird because I HATE onions

What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
I never thought I would say this but, for now, its Potbelly's.

What is your favorite sit down restaurant?
Loriel Plaza in Dupont.

On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
I usually leave whatever Stephanie suggests

What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Pizza

Name three foods you detest above all others.
I hate a-foods. Artichokes, anchovies, avacados, and asparagus. Apples are good though.

What is your favorite dish to order in a Chinese restaurant?
Cashew Chicken. I love anything with nuts!!

What are your pizza toppings of choice? Broccoli, mushrooms and green pepper

What do you like to put on your toast?
my Grandma Kidd's homemade applebutter. Total comfort food

What is your favorite type of gum? Original Trident (blue pack)

Number of contacts in your cell phone?
Don't have time to count right now but its not 163 You have to be pretty special to make it in my cell phone :)

Number of contacts in your e-mail address book?
I have no idea I know its over 200 for the Program but my personal maybe 20 max

What is your wallpaper on your computer? George on the sailboat in Boston is the screensaver on my laptop.

What is your screensaver on your computer? "Patience is the key to success" My daddy tells me that all the time

Are there naked pictures saved on your computer? Naked photos? Maybe. Maybe not. :)

How many land line phones do you have in your house? Zero


How many televisions are in your house? Zero

What kitchen appliance do you use the most? Ice maker

What is the format of the radio station you listen to the most? 107.3 FM

What do you consider to be your best physical attribute? My hair or eyes

Are you right handed or left handed? Right but I can sign with both hands

Do you like your smile? Teeth... no. Smile... sure.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Wisdom Teeth

Would you like to? Yep.

Do you prefer to read when you go to the bathroom?
No.

Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
That's a tough one.

When was the last time you had a cavity?
Long time ago.

What is the heaviest item you lift regularly?
Weights

Have you ever been knocked unconscious? No but I used to try to make myself pass out. Never worked

If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
Never. Goonies never say die.

If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?
I really like my name. I would never want to change it. Its has a cool meaning.

How do you express your artistic side?
Depends on my mood

What color do you think you look best in?
blue

How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison? I never want to find out.

Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
motor oil

If we weren't bound by society's conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at?
This is gross but everyone knows how much I love Jerry anyway. I would make a pass at my Uncle.

How often do you go to church?
Every single Sunday

Have you ever saved someone's life? I don't think so

Has someone ever saved yours? Many times

Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000? Nope

Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? On the cheek? Sure

Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
My grandma always wanted me to be a hand model. I wouldn't want to spoil her dream.

Would you never blog again for $50,000? Perhaps

Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
Totally naked? I think I would do topless but as small as I am no one would pay me to do that.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? What is it with the money questions?

Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000? No. I really like my hair

Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000? I don't even own a tv

Today I was messing around with the template trying for the new look. If you're in Firefox it's not going to look right but it's a change. In IE it has pretty flowers. :) Anyway! Then I noticed that our archives date back to August of 2005! And it turns out that our first post was August 11, 2005. So, get ready for a celebration! We're about to turn 1 and there's nothing we love more than a virtual party.

Here's why they love her. Notice that guy over her left shoulder? About 20 mins after this photo was taken he was sharing his life story and proposing.



So, we moved the blanket to break the thrall that Rae finds herself in when printed paper is around. And when we move up we end up sitting next to Skip. He's from NJ, down to see Steve McQueen on the BigScreen, has just lost his job....see how it goes?

Amber begins talking to anyone with an XY make up and Rae and I become the Do-Wop girls. We sit in the back offering funny (often sexual) do-wop obeservations and laughing with each other to add soundtrack to moment.

For instance, during the movie Steve hears from his love interest:

"What will happen to us now?"

And I stage whisper, "Sex. Sex. Sex."

Skip laughs and looks adoringly at Amber.

I heard this song tonight on IMF and I thought it rocked! There are tons more clips of them on YouTube.

Ladies and Gents, I present Paramore.

About a month ago I placed an order for a Pottery Barn bookcase I found on sale in their summer catalogue. Being the PB junkie I am, I checked my finances and mustering every justification I had to the cause, I dialed the 1800 number. The bookcase I originally ordered was the Tower bookcase and IS NOT pictured on the left. Why? Because the only Tower bookcase PB had left was damaged on its way to me. To apologize for the inconvenience PB offered me an upgrade. The Landon bookcase, pictured left, is what I will receive for the same low price as the one I ordered on sale. This is one adversity I can honestly say I'm grateful for. Now we'll see if it will not only arrive in one piece but hold my healthy book collection.

BG and I finally managed to get to Roy's! It's this fantastic sandwich shop with like 200 sandwich options on the menu. There's one called the BenderSchmender which boasts being the only 5-layer club featuring an oompa loompa in the world. Seriously. They had to put oompa loompa on the sandwich becuase everything else was in the other 4 layers. Even Donald Duck.

It's the perfect beer, pickled eggs and sandwich shop. And as we were walking back to the car, stuffed to the gills, we saw a perfect, whole rainbow.

By far the most excellent adventure in quite some time.

...Mama Harbour says, "Well, at least now you'll be listening to clean music."

Congratulations are once again in order for Michelle Beth Lee of Buchannan, WVA for an interview she has scheduled with the Smithsonian Institution. The interview set for this Thursday morning is for a position as a Registrar for an international collection. I can not think of anyone more organized than Beth. If I were the FS I would offer her the position in a heartbeat.
As you may have guessed, the photo on the left is of Ms Beth Lee. This was taken by another friend from Museum Studies, Kate Diggle. Some of you may have met Kate at the FHE hockey game last Spring. Tall red head with gorgeous green eyes. That's Kate. It also happens to be my favorite Beth photo because she looks so child-like. She also happens to be wearing George's coat in the photo. I remember when he offered it to her I was green with envy, wishing I had politely refused Mark's so I could wear the latter's.
Doesn't the water look incredible? If I could re-live a few moments of my life, sailing with Beth, Kate, George, Mark, Mike and Rob, would be a moment I would choose. There is absolutely nothing like being on a sailboat feeling the wind in your face and hair, lounging in the sun while hot men do all the work.
I also want to congratulate Beth for her recent purchase of a size 4 dress from Ann Taylor. Through incredible self-control and determination Beth has gone down several clothes sizes to become a size 4!! I am constantly amazed at what this woman can accomplish and applaud her for it.
The last bit of Beth news is Bella returns next Monday. For those who are not familiar with Bella, she is Beth's naughty cat. Bella has been in rehab for the past four months. While away life just hasn't been the same around the office. Laurie, another co-worker, and I have convinced Beth to create a My Space page for Bella and keep a blog about Bella's adventures. I suggested she call it The Bella Diaries and Laurie thinks it should be written from Bella's perspective. We'll see what Beth comes up with.
Although I know change is necessary I will miss Kim and Beth terribly. Over the past year they have seen me through five semesters of hell and my relationship with Aditya. Through it all they have been supportive and trustworthy. Hell, Beth was the first to introduce me to Dr Dreamo's and their fabulous nachos.
So Good Luck Chica & Here's to four more weeks at Museum Studies!

Yesterday I took an early morning road trip to Philadelphia with Erin, Joy and Joy's friend, Adam. Adam snapped this photo in one of Philly's lovely parks lying directly south of Independence Hall.

I have to admit that aside from the city's historic structures I knew little about Philly. It was interesting to see the stark socio-economic dynamics of the urban areas. A few times it was likened to SE or NE, DC. Yet, as this photo reveals the "Old City" is well maintained with manicured parks and a pedestrian-friendly "mall."

We began the morning by dropping Erin off at her gun show. She can explain the logistics of a gun show better than I, so I will leave that to her. It was interesting to observe her in a professional arena, providing information about Beretta products to people twice her age. For the record, I was impressed. She possessed a confidence with and around firearms that I will never have. I think I jumped every time I heard a gun shot.

Instead of hanging out at the gun show Joy, Adam and I decided to kill time in the Old City. Our morning was invested in a NPS film, titled Independence, getting tickets for Independance Hall, visiting the Old Christ Church cemetery (Ben Franklin is buried there) and the Free Quaker Church.

Around noon we fetched Erin and grabbed some Philly cheesesteaks at Gino's. Although I had never heard of Gino, apparently he recently made national news. Gino has established a controversial policy that only english-speaking customers will be served by his establishment. To support Gino and his crusade, hundreds of people line up daily to consume Gino's less-than-impressive (that's what I was told) cheesesteaks and freedom fries. As I was standing in line I couldn't help but wonder with a name like Gino, how many of Gino's ancestors immigrated to America unable to speak english. I wonder how he feels about past discrimination against Italians. Are his actions any different than those of generations past who segregated themselves from Italians and refused to extend certain services to them based on race? I don't think so. While some individuals may applaude Gino and his creed, I think its an unsettling reminder that, given the opportunity, people will discriminate and segregate themselves from those perceived as less-American or less like themselves. One of the beautiful aspects about living in America is that Gino is free to serve who he pleases and when he pleases. God bless America.

After picking at half of my cheesesteak we strolled through the Italian market, which according to Joy's guidebook is the largest outdoor market in America. My favorite store was a candy store, I can't recall the name, whose cases were filled with chocolate covered pretzels, turtles, cookies, truffles, etc. Adam took a few pictures of the candy counter that are pretty impressive.

Our Italian market excursion was cut short by a pre-planned date with Independence Hall. A NPS ranger explained we needed to be in the security line, no later than 45 mins before our tour began, to make the tour. Deciding its better to be safe than sorry, we rushed down and managed to breeze through security in five minutes. This left us forty minutes to spare. As we joined fellow tourists in the courtyard it began to rain. One downfall of Independence Hall is, lack of shelter and toliets. Erin and I both had to use the restroom and no one was caving. Eventually I found a young man (about our age) who fell for my "I am a woman and need a restroom" act and led me into a small bathroom. In the necessity of having to pee and the excitement that victory brings, I forgot to lock the door. This bathroom, I should mention was located just to the right of the entrance. Everyone entering the building could see this door and when opened, the person using the facilities. A security guard, seeing a light on, flung open the door before the kind man who had just helped me and who knows how many tourists, to turn the light off before locking up for the evening. Imagine her surprise, when instead of seeing a vacant restroom she saw a stranger in a Hawaiian print dress (and who knows what else) hanging out on the john. Needless to say, I was mortified. My embarrassment was impacted by her prolonged gawking, allowing Mr Helpful a peek as well. In situations such as this, I always repeat, "you'll never see them again." I just hope I'm right.

My embarrassment was soon replaced by excitement as we entered Independence Hall. For over a year, Dr Longstreth has lambasted me and my fellow hp students with slides depicting Philadelphia's historic structures. It is not surprising Independence Hall was often among them. Known less for its architecture than its association with our founding fathers and Revolutionary events, Independence Hall is not only a National Historic Landmark but a UNESCO world heritage site.

The building is lovely inside and out and our docent was not only informative but entertaining as well. As I climbed the staircase to the second floor I couldn't help but marvel over the stairs. Looking down, it was obvious the wood planking was authentic. Knowing these stairs supported men like Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Quincy Adams, Sam Adams, and General George Washington was awe inspiring. Running my hand along the banister, I couldn't help likening the building to a woman, perhaps Liberty herself. The banister became her spine, and running my hand along it I could sense her fatigue and strength. It was a connection I hope to remember years hence, especially as I work to save other historic buildings & sites.

Following the tour, Erin, Joy, Adam and I climbed into Erin's fabulous new car and did a drive-by of the Rocky stairs before heading home. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day. I was not only reminded of my American heritage but developed a stronger "brotherhood" with my friends, Erin & Joy, than I previously had. I can see why Elton John was so enamored with her. There is an underlying romance to the city that seems to attract everyone who's walked its cobblestone streets. Crossing over the river (don't ask me which one) I vowed to return to Philly where freedom is king and history its companion.

ah ha! An Update! BG and I spent the fourth of July in a stylish, overgrown, bachelor backyard which was blessed with an incredible location. I've uploaded a picture which I think summarizes the experience. Also it does not, IMHO, violate the "No Photo" policy to which I've agreed when posting images that may or may not depict BG.

It was a fun fourth, if quiet. Mostly I was excited that we got to see so much of Gavin that week. The photo credit goes to that amazing South African! Next year we're going to have an insane party on July with the theme of "29 and stepping off the aging train!!!" I'm looking forward to it!



In other news, BG and I saw DWP with my Mom. The last movie Mom saw in the theatre was Pelican Breif back in 1923. It's been quite a while. So, fighting the teaching of her Mother (that theatres contained head lice and sticky floors that wouldn't release you) she ventured out with us. Mostly I feel bad for BG when this happens. Dealing with my Mom and I is something like watching a bad comedy duo. However, the night went well and I love DWP. BG is the fashionista but I'm the educated observer. I'll never get sick of watching beautiful people wear nice clothes! Or watching them wear something so crazy ugly that I feel justified.

movies such as The Devil Wears Prada make me wonder if I missed my true calling in life. Beginning in middle school, I would skip lunch just to hang out in the library and peruse Elle, Cosmo, Vogue, Glamour, YM & Teen magazines. Cindy Crawford, Kate Moss, Claudia Schiffer, and Christy Brinkley embodied perfection. I prayed one day I would have long legs, pouty lips, long gorgeous hair and a tiny waist. Still in the genesis of puberty, I had hope I could attain all this and more. Clearly this did not happen. Today I stand a whopping 5'3", am twice the size I want to be, have thin school-marm lips and a waist that is more masculine than feminine. Even with all these physical limitations I still long to wear a size 2 black Chanel suit with matching stilletos, Tiffany pearls, fishnet thigh-high stockings with lacy black french cut underwear, garter and well, you can imagine the rest.
My love for fashion continued into high school. I still have boxes of old Cosmos, Elles, Glamours, GQ's and Vogues packed away in storage. I became so fashion conscious I could pick apart someone's outfit, identifying the designer, the year and season. Calvin Klein, Karl Laggerfield, Dolce & Gabbana, Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, etc. were people I aspired to know. Their couture I longed to parade.
In college my fashion interests changed somewhat to focus on, you guessed it, wedding designs. Reading Brides magazine I quickly determined Vera Wang was the world's greatest designer and nothing but a 1 carat, brilliant or princess cut, Tiffany diamond engagement ring would do for me. The black Chanel suite would be substituted for a light pink or blue appropriate for honeymoon travel. Matching gloves, shoes and hat were also a must.
This part of my persona seemed to die during my mission. For 18 months I was forced to hem my Laura Ashley skirts and dresses to the most unflattering lenth ever, mid-calf. In addition, during the last six months of service I was "asked" to wear nothing but solid white or pastel colored tops with solid dark skirts. I am honestly surprised Cosmo didn't feature us as a fashion "don't" in one of their issues. I would have.
It was during this time that I also gained a lot of weight. Despite rising every morning at 5:30am to do aerobics or run through the canyons, I still put on the pounds. No doubt this compacted my lack of interest in fashion. Why be interested in clothes I can't wear?
Serving a mission also tends to alter your perspective on things like clothes, make-up, hair products, hand bags, perfumes, shoes, etc. These worldy possesions loose importance, compared to say... serving God's children.
Although not fully resurrected, my fashion-crazed Jekyll occassionly takes control and I'll purchase a Cosmo, or a Betsy Johnson dress. I'm young, single and making money so why shouldn't I splurge every now and then, right? And one day I will win my weight war and fit into the size 2 Chanel suite. This means I have to educate myself about contemporary fashion because what if a Bebe suite is what "I" want and not a Chanel tomorrow? See how my actions are totally justified? See how easily I could become Andie Sachs, the movie's heroine? Scary no? I may wear ripped 80's jeans and baggy t-shirts but inside a part of me wants to be a sophisticated sex goddess.
The Devil Wears Prada, was therefore, a delightful trip down memory lane that allowed a long dormant part of me excitement only matched by BJ, & BR purchases (nowhere close to D&G or Chanel) or a consistent Cosmo, Vogue fix.
Thanks to Stephanie and Momma Harbour for a great ladies night out. This is one BG & IB adventure I will cherish for a lifetime.

Working at the GW Museum Studies Program has its benefits. Among these is the opportunity to work with some pretty fantastic people like Ms Kimberly Robinson, pictured on the right.
Kim was one of the first people I met after I began working for Ildi. She has an incredible work ethic, an astounding amount of energy, fueled by her daily intake of chocolate chip muffins, and she is funny as hell.
One of my favorite things about Kim is her distaste for rap music. We constantly argue about Beyonce's diva status while sharing a love for Disney movies, French language and culture, museums, Superman, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Harry Potter and scrapbooking.
Kim works on our NEH Distance Learning pilot project, an effort, a la Ildi, to bring the benefits of the Museum Studies Program to individuals working in smaller museums. Although the program has been a huge pain in the choo-choo train it has also been a huge success. Kim has been a key factor in that. Not only does this girl go to school part-time but she works two jobs and has interned at the US Capitol and the White House. This makes me green with envy and I constantly tell her so. Ms. Kim also speaks fluent French and just returned from a fabulous trip to Paris where she spent two weeks studing French art museums. Honestly, what more can a woman want?
To top it off Kim was just offered a job with the National Park Service (NPS)! Although she hasn't broken the news to Ildi, she is expected to begin on July 23rd or something like that. Anyway, when she leaves I will miss her terribly. She not only makes me laugh but she always is there to calm me down when things get a little crazy at work.
She also has a unique way of humbling me. The woman, in case it isn't evident in the photo, is tiny. I think she weighs less than 120 and she's at least 2" taller than I am. She is always complaining about her weight. She's either too skinny or too fat. My response to both complaints is, "I have no sympathy. If I had the figure you had, there is no telling what I'd do." It was during one of these conversations Kim mentioned she was a C, meaning her bra cup size was C. Astounded I replied, "There is no way. You're way too skinny to be a C. My cup size is a B and my breasts, frankly look bigger than yours." Needless to say this did not sit well with Ms Robinson who was quick with a heated defense. The nickname C-Cup was born, explaining the title of this post.
I also discovered, during this conversation, that Kim thought I had "junk in my trunk." For those of you who aren't familiar with this term it means I have a huge butt. Although I laugh it off, I have become a little sensitive about my back side. Kim is not the only person who has commented on the size of my butt. Ben, an ex, used to tell me I had a "ghetto booty," while Jeff Meade, a married man in the Museum Studies Program told me my "ass was like a canvas." I am not exactly sure what Jeff meant by that but I have interpreted it to mean my behind is so wide you could paint a mural across it. However, I would rather have a little too much than not enough because, let me tell you, there is nothing worse than dating someone with no butt. I have tried it and its no good.
In addition to these backside criticisms, when I was a little girl my guy friends called me "soccer butt or black and white butt." These nicknames were earned when I played soccer on an all male soccer team. For some reason my mother always signed me up to play on all male sports teams. I am positive it was her way of further impounding the idea that "men are pigs" into my brain. I was only in the first grade but I have not forgotten that fateful moment Jason Gay kicked a soccer ball that hit my fleshy target. My parents insisted, while whiping away my tears, that this was Jason's way of flirting with me, but I knew better. Since that day, my caboose has been something I moan and groan at while viewing it in the mirror. If it weren't for women like Beyonce and J Lo who both have healthy butts, I would be in the depths of despair.
Which is exaclty my arguement for Kim, an arguement I will miss having with a dear friend and colleague. Not only does the woman have large breats but she has a kind heart. Her mother crocheted a poncho for me shortly after graduation. I almost can't wait for fall so I can wear it. It is one of the coolest gifts anyone has ever given me, the coolest have come from Stephanie, which I will blog about later. :)
So congratulations to Kimberly Robinson. A woman who wishes her name was Brie. A woman who has achieved her dream and proven the fruits of hard work and dedication do come eventually. I wish her all the best as she embarks on this new chapter in her professional life. May she meet an educated, successful, funny, adorable man who will treat her like the diva she is.

or should I say Commonwealth Cuties? It is official. After a short hiatus Mary & Zu Zu have returned to my dad's house, hopefully this time to stay, having reclaimed the garage and the attic as their domains. Why do I blog about this, you may ask? Well, I just finished talking to my dad, another daily ritual, about my pre-semester trip home. During the course of our conversation my Dad briefed me about the cats.
Since moving to Kentucky, Josh has kicked Mary and Zu out of his apartment, and banished them to live alone at my dad's house. My brother will be starting law school at the University of Kentucky next month and decided an early move would be wise. Lauren, his girlfriend of three or four years, got a job at UK and has rented a two bedroom apartment in Lexington. Josh and Lauren both have their own cats, Chef (the devil incarnate) and Jing (short for Jingles). Both argued having four cats in a 2 bedroom apartment was too much thus, the banishment. However, Josh has promised to stay with the two princesses every other day until my father returns from Baton Rouge in two weeks. Tonight, I am relieved to report, Josh is with the girls.
In a little over a month I will be too. Although I sneeze like crazy when they're around, unless I medicate myself with Zyrtec, I really do miss them. They are both such good company to have around. Don't get me wrong, they can annoy the hell out of me. Especially Zu with her claw in my nostril and Mary biting my chin. Talk about pain. My claws are nothing compared to theirs. After reading CNN's coverage of the woodchipper kitten I am just grateful we still have our ladies.
The photo above was taken at my Dupont studio last December just before I flew them home. Notice my unmade bed. Looks inviting, no?

As a favor to my Uncle Jerry, a man I will be indebted to for the rest of my mortal existence, I cat sit/house watch the Hermann's home. The tradition began last June and continued this summer when Steve Hermann called me once again about watching Samson and Delila. Steve is a successful lawyer in a downtown DC firm and his wife, Suzanne Ross, teaches Women's Rights law at Georgetown. They are an amazing couple who seem to be very much in love, even after who knows how many years of marriage. They have two children; one son and one daughter. Each time I cat sit its because they are visiting their daughter, a Peace Core volunteer, in Guatamala.
One of my favorite things about this house is its character. I love brick homes. I always have. I used to tell my dad I would never own a house made of wood because it would never survive a tornado. Although my opinion has since changed I still love brick homes.
In the back just off the dining room is a sun room with a royal blue couch. It may sound tacky but its the coolest piece of furniture and I love it. Its especially nice in the spring because the sun warms the room just enough, making it perfect for a cat nap. Samson favors the large leather ottoman that sits in front of the couch and just as I drift from a light doze into a deeper snooze, he'll jump on my lap and demand attention.
Delila is just as affectionate. Although "Lie Lie," (my nickname for her) never learned to meow, she can squeek and does so when she wants in or out. I took photos of both which I hope to include in a separate blog... someday.
The home is also great because the decor is readable, meaning, it reflects the occupants tastes and interests. Although it has a touch of contemporary the atmosphere is more domestic, making guests feel welcome and comfortable. Its kind of like an old houserobe or a worn blanket.
I want a home like that one day. That atmosphere is hard to acheive in a new home. I think that's another reason why I love historic homes. Time often breeds character and who would want a home without a past? Not me.
As I think about what the next year or two may bring, i.e., graduation, finding a job, moving, settling down, I can't help but wonder where the next chapter of my life will take me. Will I finally buy a home? If so, where? Will I start with my beach bungalow in Charleston or a small ranch in nowhere USA? Either way, I hope I can create a home, much like the Hermann's, that is warm and personable. A home people will value and cherish long after I am gone because it means something.
I am not sure I will ever cat sit for the Hermmans again but I will always remember, with fondness, my time spent in their home.

As I embark on the last week of my 27th year, my mind has been engaged in serious reflection. This self-analysis was encouraged by an activity I attended last night.
The Great American Scrapbook Convention has become an annual event for Gwen, Stephanie and I. Every year, for one evening, I surround myself with women of all ages and backgrounds to "crop" for an average of four hours. This event, I believe is quickly evolving into a tradition. I am ok with this. I love making and keeping traditions. Knowing I have an official tradition to anticipate annually with Gwen and Stephanie is exciting and comforting because its through activities like scrapbooking that I learn the most about myself and my friends. I love that we can work beside each other quietly, in the "comfortable silence" only good friends can enjoy. I also love how Gwen patiently gives into my pleas for help, which is not really help but more her doing for me what I am too lazy to do for myself.
The extreme level of estrogen in the room also does wonders for me. Although I am not particularly creative or crafty, evidence can be seen in photo above, there is something about being in a room filled with women who are. Although I have little in common with my scrapbooking peers, I can't help admire them for their excitement and devotion. Last night's attendants probably ranged in age from 25-65, most being mothers and grandmothers. Jacqueline, aka "Baby" our neophyte, was probably the youngest registered patron there, being 23.
I have decided scrapbooking is similar to RS Homemaking, which I also enjoy. This convention brings hundreds of women together for a ritual of creation & preservation. The photos resurrect memories. These memories often relate to family or friendships. The tools, i.e. scissors, paper, stickers, buttons, ribbon, etc., become instruments of creation. The Convention is an outlet, a time away from family, for release and renewal. Groups of 4-8 women surround tables covered in cheap, plastic tablecloths to gossip, laugh and share ideas. Music broadcast over loudspeakers occassionally solicits spontaneous outbursts of dancing from women who probably stopped dancing, outside of their homes, long ago. It is during these moments I hang my head and offer a laugh impregnated with self-pity.
"Did I ever expect my life to come to this?" I ask myself. I am almost 28. A single woman who hopes to embark on a successful post-graduate career, if not before, and I am attending, on a Saturday night, a scrapbook convention with women who have probably sacrificed their dreams on the alter of family and offspring. Is there anything wrong with this? Absolutely not. But situations like this always cause self-examination. As a single young woman, wouldn't a better time investment be going to a spa, gym, club, cafe, etc., instead of a scrapbook convention? There are no contacts to be made in this company of women. There are no sexy, successful, single men to meet. I have no children to scrapbook photos for. None of my friends, other than Gwen, Steph, Alyssa, and Jacqueline care about my "pages." So why do I continue to register for the convention?
I have decided that some part of me, don't ask me which, is comforted knowing women exist who devote themselves to their families. Who knows how many women look forward to this annual event as their only personal time? Who knows how many have supportive husbands who encourage their spouses to cultivate their crafty talents? For a few, I imagine this is one of the only times they participate in something that doesn't involve their families directly. Although these thoughts make me a little sad, I can't help but smile and join in, trying to contribute to their enjoyment...their excitement. Who knows? Perhaps one day I will be as they are now? I never thought I would be 28 and unwed.
I also take comfort in knowing no matter what my future holds, I can always participate. Even if Steph or Gwen marry before next year's crop or the year after, this is an activity we can attend together no matter how old we are or what our marital status may be. I imagine our becoming like the women in How to Make an American Quilt, with relationships as permanent as the memories we try to preserve.
So, will I attend the crop next year? Absolutely. As my mousepad door-prize boldly declares in tacky pink script "I Love Scrapbookin'!"

I got a bit of a talking-to yesterday at work. I've been missing details and, generally, not concentrating enough. Surprise! An ADD girl that can't concentrate? Who ever would have guessed!?

As I was talking to a friend of mine last night about my seemingly eternal quest to finish my undergraduate degree. I expressed to him that I was bored by school and, therefore, usually didn't finish what I'd started. He said, "Sounds like an excuse to me." For a moment I was offended and then I thought, "You know--he may have a point."

There is a certain amount of biology that goes along with the ADD brain. It really is functionally different than a "normal" one. But you know, even with that challenge I've managed to do things that bore me. Why is school such a challenge for me?

I think, perhaps, until recently I haven't been able to picture the ROI that would make me withstand boredom. I'm feeling differently now that I am back in an office setting. In restaurants or kitchens, you don't need a degree. You need to be quick, competent, accurate, personable and confident. I am those things. But I don't want to manage restaurants and kitchens for my entire life. I love them but I'm not willing to work the nights, weekends and long hours that they require. So, back to the office. And here it's a different story. The aforementioned traits can take me only so far. That's becoming more obvious to me the longer I'm here.

I did know these things before, of course, but I was waiting for something--putting off the rest of my life until the time was perfect. Of course, that time will never come. Things will always be in the way. And I need to stop using anything as an excuse. I need to embrace the part of me that won't allow for a "no" and get going.

Today Bond Girl begins to attempt recovery of priceless artifacts from the base of the Masonic Temple in Alexandria. Sadly, only VA. But some day she'll be digging in the other one!

We're sorry that we don't update more--our faithful two readers! We love you. We promise to have more consistent adventures this summer.

See how the people in this photo look fake and clueless? Remember that when you're thinking about seeing Just My Luck. It's officially DUMBER than Firewall. And that's saying something.

The basic plot--if you can call it that--of this movie is that when you kiss you get lucky. Girl is lucky. She kisses boy. He's lucky. She kisses him again. She gets lucked in return. She feels guilty about the lucking and returns the favor to the boy. Then they both give up and luck another person. Credits roll.

Amber and I start to laugh because we are so happy that we only paid $5 to see this movie.

I do have to say this. The movie did have one high point. It never, ever altered from EXACTLY what I thought was going to happen next. The effect is that you feel pretty smart for being able to predict the next joke down to the camera angle.

And then you realize that you don't have a degree. That you're steeped in pop culture to the point of being able to do the aforementioned and you begin to weep without regard for those around you.

Later, after they have talked you down and put you in the calming, soft, white room you begin to understand that life really does have purpose and you'll be ok. Soon they let you go and you can rebuild your life.

So, please. Don't go. Just stop now. Listen to me! I know! I've been there!

It's not pretty.

In celebration, of Steph's bonus at work we decided to see a movie. In addition, Steph wanted to talk about the "object of her affection," because men are really nothing more than objects, so we did the typical girl activity and saw what I thought was a romantic comedy. Oh no. Although I am often wrong about many things, I hate it. There is nothing worse than being reminded of a horrible decision and tonight that is exactly what happened. For one hour and forty-three minutes I was reminded I had made the worst movie decision of my life. Stephanie and I seriously predicted the entire movie. It was a no-plot, no-brainer flick. I don't mind Lindsey Lo-Lo but man, I wasn't the only one who made a bad choice. If I were her I would seriously think about getting a new agent. Perhaps she is trying to gain a following among younger uh, children maybe? I don't know.
Stephanie and I tried to identify a plot but alas we believe there wasn't one. For our readers who are not familiar with Lindsey's new acheivement, if it can be called that, its titled Just My Luck. Lindsey plays a young woman who enjoys a life filled with nothing but good luck. Its not even good, its unrealistic. She lives in a huge NYC flat, meets "sexy men" who take her to professional basketball games, and wears Dolce and Gabbana dresses. All this and she's what? 18? Lindsey's luck changes when she meets the unluckiest man ever. After dancing with him for one minute she kisses this guy. Doesn't know his name, the song isn't even over and bam, she's locking lips with a total stranger. What does this teach young girls? Aghh.
Immediately following the kiss, everything in Ms Lohan's life goes badly. Sound familiar ladies? Her first mistake was trusting and kissing a man she had just met. Lucky for her, he tried to redeem himself later. The last five minutes of the movie is nothing but kissing. Lucky for us it was $5.oo movie night at the theatre. For those interested, $5.00 movie night ended tonight, but will resume once the summer ends and kiddies are back in school. A fact that makes me incredibly excited about reproducing. I can already see the benefits; ruining movie night for members of mankind who are destined to spend mortality ALONE.
As we were walking out of the theatre I almost tripped, and got popcorn on the bottom of my shoe. This makes me wonder if its bad luck to see the movie. I promised Stephanie I would monitor my behavior over the week, if the bad luck continues then we have vowed to endure the movie again in the hopes my luck will be reversed. Maybe that is how the director plans to make a profit on this venture. Curse all those who watch it so they will have to spend money to see it again reversing the spell. The fact that Stephanie would agree to sit through this movie again, if I have lost whatever luck I had, reminds me how lucky I am to have her as a friend.

I was walking in down Germantown Road in Philly. I was on a photo safari while I was waiting for Basilios. A man walked behind me for a couple of blocks, whistling a tune. Then, slowly, he passed me. He said "Hello." I replied. Then he started to cross the street. Just before stepping out he turned to me and said, "Miss. Whoever he is, you tell him I'm jealous."

Previously I explored the question of why people pretend they don't love or care for another when they really do. An example of someone who has done this is Lucy Honeychurch, the main character in the movie, A Room With a View. Her love interest, George Emerson is one of my favorite male characters, next to Rhett Butler, in Gone With the Wind, George Bailey in, It's a Wonderful Life, and Noah Calhoun in The Notebook.
I never thought I would meet a man like Noah Calhoun but last Saturday I think I came close.
Saturday Beth, Kate and I decided to take advantage of the Boston Sailing Center's free sailing lessons. In addition to meeting three really fun guys, Mark, Paul and Rob, I met George. George, shown in the photo on the left, was perfect. Like Noah, he appreciated beautiful music. Classical music (Handel to be exact) drifted up from the cabin as we navigated Boston's harbour. The music with the lapping of the water was hypnotic.
Although the wind was chilly, the sky was a clear blue. The sun was bright reflecting off the water causing us to squint.
May in Boston, is not like May in Washington. Waiting in line I quickly became very cold. Mark, kindly wrapped his royal blue Patagonia fleece around me for warmth. Looking back I am not sure this was a good thing because later George offered Beth his jacket, stored in the cabin, so she could stay warm. See what a gentleman he is? :)
Since these were sailing lessons, everyone was expected to assist George with the sails and navigation. Thankfully, Mark, Paul and Rob did all the tying and pulling while I steered the craft. Like most things, it took me awhile to get used to the logistics of sailing. George would often put his hand near mine on the rudder to help me guide the craft. At one point I confessed I pretended to be confused because I wanted him to hold my hand. In response, he put his hand over mine but only for a brief moment.
George reminded me of Noah in other ways. For instance, George dresses exactly the way I imagine Noah Calhoun would dress; khakis, a rugby shirt, with a gray pull-over wool sweater. The loafers and the matching baseball cap provided the perfect finishing touches to the most inviting ensemble I have ever beheld. Looking at him, I had this overwhelming urge to get lost beneath a big, fluffy goose down comforter with him forever. Instead I had to settle with this photo.
In the course of our journey, I never once heard George curse. Do you know how attractive that is? Every man I know, with the exception of my father, curses. Most men my age do it quite often. Not only is it offensive its unnecessary. It is a habit I have adopted over the past year, but am trying to quash. George never became impatient and always complinted each participant, when they did something well, with, "beauty." Jason Bowman used to say that.
George also took each of our hands as we entered and exited the boat. I love it when a man does that. So nice.
Finally the last thing that impressed me about this man, who I will probably never see again, is he quickly rushed to help another crew that was coming in, when he easily could have stood by and watched as they struggled to dock their boat. I love men who are quick to be anxiously engaged.
The one hope I hang on to in regards to George, is his job as a defense contractor often brings him to Washington. Although DC is a big place, I'd like to think if fate brought us together once, it can happen again. Haven't you ever seen Serendipity?

But it went like this:

"I'm Amber. I'm the other half of Bond Girl and Iron Bladder."

And I loved her more.

Over the weekend a headline appeared on LDS.Org declaring Temple Square to be Utah's numero uno tourist attraction. DUH! Not only does Temple Square have over 150 gorgeous sister missionaries on site to assist all who enter therein, the Spirit is truly incredible. Mormons are not the only ones that recognize this. :) Although I retired my name tag over five years ago, I still get excited each time I read about the SLC Temple Square Mission.
Every General Conference I tear up remembering how wonderful it was to serve the Lord "in the tops of the mountains." There are some members of the LDS church who chide me about serving on Temple Square. Not only is it hurtful, its plain wrong. Many tease I did not serve a "real" mission. This is ridiculous. If the Lord through His prophet declared Temple Square a mission than its a "real" mission. I am humbled each time I think about the miracles I witnessed as I served people "from all nations of the earth." I know the Lord will continue to lead people to Temple Square because He wants all to come closer to Him. (I am not saying Temple Square is the only place where people can draw closer to the Savior. Don't even go there.) I just hope Temple Square will continue to be a magnet for those seeking peace and miracles. I LOVE YOU TEMPLE SQUARE!

You are a person who lives in the moment and is passionate about whatever and whoever you love.When alone, you appreciate being able to do nothing if you want to, and setting your own pace for things.You are romantic, and when you are with your partner you like to woo them with your imagination.In the future you will be wise and healthy.

The Secret Language of Sleep:A Couple's Guide to the Thirty-Nine Positions

Colon Traits and Tendencies
The Colon is the chosen pose of individuals who, on their own, seem awkward or remote. They may be the sort who responds to telephone messages with email, or spends their lunchtimes quietly pedometer-walking in lieu of socializing with coworkers. But when a Colonist finds its mate, together they acquire a grace and ease that surprises friends and family.

Comfort Zone
The Colon is one of the Sea Sleeper poses. Other Sea poses you might try: The Ticket Puncher and Sixth Posture of the Perfumed Forest.

A Note About Coping
Since Colonists rely so heavily on their partners to give them context and spark, the times when business or family obligations take one of them away from home can leave both sleepers demoralized. To temporarily fill the void, swap in a large, carnival-sized stuffed animal, making sure to keep candles, space heaters, or other combustibles well away from the bedside.

...I'm finally in Bond Girl's home! For more than 10 mins! We're eating popcorn and getting ready to go to a movie! It's so nice to be hanging out! Together!

Sorry. Dooce had a thing with exclamation points! And they are contagious.

A new site for our scrapping readers...Gwen has a new class!

This! concludes! our! post!

Antonio here we come!!! :)

Oh. Wait. Makafeke. I promised Boo that we'd blog about this but I don't quite know a nice way to express the many, various, interesting makafeke I call my own. There are nearly 10 that I can think of right away and, upon reflection, probably quite a few more.

What are my favorites? Hmmm. Well, there are men--love them. I know that there is a popular opinion right now that "Men Suck" or some such thing. I don't agree. I never have. I happen to be quite fond of them in all forms. Friends, lovers--any old presentation will do for me

You know, since we're in a 'stream of something' mood here, I was just thinking about this. What if I shared that porn was my makafeke? Would people believe me? First, it's statistically unlikely that (as a female) that would be an issue for me. Second, I'm sure that most of you would be shocked at the idea. Or maybe not. Depends on how well you know me, I guess. :)

But really, we talk about 'makafeke' but how many of us own what ours are? And how many would really share? And does sharing make a difference? I think there is an element of social responsibility that comes with sharing the things that make us weak. I have heard that it's freeing to stand in front of a group and 'own' to them your weakness. So, allow me...

Hello. My name is Stephanie. I'm addicted to several things. *Hello, Stephanie!*

In the Saturday morning session of General Conference (4.1.20o6) President Thomas S. Monson, first counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints likened the temptations of mortality to makafeke (the Tongan word for octopi lure). These lures consist of medium size round stones covered in seashells. Octopi mistaking the lure for prey, seizes the makafeke in a death grip, refusing to relinquish even as the fisherman hoists it out of the ocean and into his boat.
Each of us has a makafeke, according to President Monson; a temptation we find difficult to abandon even during times of peril.
Seven years ago I entered the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah in preparation for my mission on Temple Square (SLC, UT). In the MTC missionaries do not have access to caffinated beverages, i.e. Diet Coke. Before my mission, I drank at least three or four glasses of Diet Coke a day. I was an addict. Yet I did not understand until I suffered severe headaches due to caffine withdrawls. Once the headaches ceased I vowed never to become a Diet Coke addict again. For six years I did not drink coke of any kind. I was such a braggart, taunting my mother every time we went to the grocery store. "You don't need that poison water," I would tease. "You're just wasting money," I continued. She would groan in response as she loaded my empty arms with liters of the "poision."
Fast forward to my brother's college graduation (5.2005). It was a hot Atlanta day. I had gone without food or drink for many hours. Famished and with no other choice, I took a big gulp of Josh's ice cold Coca-Cola. For a moment, the world stood still. The burn my throat experienced as the brown liquid washed down my throat was intoxicating. I begged for more. One sip was not enough. With one gulp I was hooked, not on Diet Coke as before, but on Classic Coca-Cola.
It has been 11 months since that fateful day. Although I can go a day without one, the urgings usually increase until I finally give in to that ice cold refreshment.
This was the first thing that came to mind, yesterday as I listened to President Monson describe the dangers of makafeke. My makafeke is not a stone covered in shells, its not men, money or any other vice. Ok, maybe that's not true, but for now, my makafeke consists of a red, white, and black aluminum can, filled with the finest beverage a native son of Georgia ever created.
Now you know mine, tell me, what is your makafeke?

Do you ever wish, on days like today, after an especially long and exhausting week, you could come home to this standing in your doorway? Yeah, I thought so.
From the time I was 6, I have adored Harrison Ford, as Dr. Jones. I don't know what it is but men in tweed blazers, oxford shirts, glasses, bow ties and khakis drive me wild. Add intellect, engaging conversation and I'm hooked.
Indiana Jones is one of the main reasons I earned a BA in Anthropology. Although most people think of Indiana as an archaeologist, I feel his character is more of a socio-cultural anthropologist, which is what I am. Either way the man and his character are fine.
My favorite scene in the entire triology is the bedroom scene between Kate Capshaw, "Willie" and Dr. Jones (Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom). Willie coyly asks Jones what kind of research he does. He answers nonchantly that he's a scientist. With further prodding from Willie, Jones finally admits as a scientist, his favorite research focuses on nocturnal behavior, especially mating rituals. I don't know why I think this dialogue is so clever but I have always enjoyed their exhange of sexual inuendo in this scene. I often wish I could have a similar encounter with a Dr. Jones or the equivalent thereof in mind, dress, behavior and physique. No such luck at BYU. All married. I've already checked out the Anthro Program at GW and there's nothing there either. Perhaps, a PhD program will yield the desired results. :)

Is that an orgy of concert tickets?

This morning I bought tickets to the Richmond Chili Cookoff.

Then I bought tickets to the DC 101 Chili Cookoff.

THEN, in order to cap my day, I got presale tickets to Melissa Etheridge at Constitution hall on Aug 10!!

I love the outdoor concerts (thus the first two purchases) but I would tattoo Melissa on my body. I adore her. I'm a "fan" in the sense of fanatic.

Long live summer concerts!!

Chances are if you read this blog you've heard about 'Big Love.' I've been waiting to form an opinion about it until I could get my thoughts straight on the issue. I've watched the second and third episodes and I'm done watching.

So. Polygamy's the basic issue of the show. To be honest (and maybe a bit shocking) I don't have an issue with the theory of polygamy. Those of you interested in the answer can ask me why offline. I do think that this is a glorified version of the actual practice and is as far off base as Carrie (Sex and the City) being able to afford both her rent and Jimmy Choo twice a week. It's TV. Exaggeration happens.

If the show was simply about a man married to several women I wouldn't even bother to be disturbed by it but I am. Why? There are catch words and phrases that are distinctly "Mormon" and the language is used intentionally to blur the line between "Mormons" and polygamists.

I've heard arguments that say the filming mocks ordinances. I don't agree. Odd things happen in any religion and any sane person can argue against the 'weird' things they show (blessing of a hunting rifle, for instance). Richard Dutcher has filmed several ordinances and while I'm personally not comfortable seeing them on film, it's his right to do so.

Personally I don't think that the subject matter is bad either. This show exposes a segment of our population that needs a voice. The current practice of polygamy is abhorrent in the extreme but it's rarely talked about. Maybe the portrayal of the very young women being married to old men will spur some help eradicating this practice. Maybe it will force people to examine what is really happening in these communities instead of joking about the pleasure they'd derive from having multiple wives themselves. Who knows?

What I do hate about the program is the syntax. People are identified by their language; LDS people especially so. We have sayings that cross cultural boundaries and languages. They are part of our identity. I can safely say that no matter where I am in the world if I hear a person talking about going to "institute," I can assume that they are LDS. Sayings and expressions are a form of identification and this program uses phrases that are "Mormon" to portray a practice that is not. It bothers me.

Do I mind that I have a chance to explain what I really believe? Of course not, assuming I get that chance. Do I mind that these phrases will become more well known? No. But I'm afraid that now they will be popularly associated with polygamy.

I think that some LDS people fear the close examination of the outside world. It's been a tough road for our religion with "outsiders." We have been conditioned, I believe, to be a bit reactionary when there is intense scrutiny. But I also know that times of pressure and intense scrutiny are the times the produce the most amazing results.

Will I watch again? No. And I think that throwing a huge effort into getting the show canceled will only serve to feed the fire. In this case I'm going to stick to my circle of influence and let go of worrying about things outside it. Regardless of the status of the show it's brought dialogue about a problem that I think needs a solution and the opportunity to address some misconceptions. That's enough for me to see the silver lining in the thunder cloud everyone's yammering about.



I'm going to open this post up to comments but if it gets snotty they are going right back off, FYI.

As we were en route to the Mall yesterday morning, my brother called. He had just picked up his devil cat Chef from the vet. As the pictures demonstrates, instead of being "put down" the furball got a haircut, her first I might add. From the look on Chef's face it is easy to discern the beast hates all of humanity. Named after Leonid Brezhnev, this demonic vessel will attack anyone who threatens her singular position with Josh. The unlikely duo are as "thick as theives." It will be interesting to see if this haircut will introduce new challenges to their relationship.

As the photo on the left shows, this is what is called a "lion cut." The body is completely shaved with the exception of the feet, head and tail. Having visited the National Zoo this afternoon with Steph and Jacqueline, the haircut doesn't resemble a lion at all. If you ask me Chef looks more like a poodle than jungle royalty.

Anyway, knowing Chef, I couldn't keep from laughing and subsequently sharing. Although she's a cat, she still has her pride and I know, despite her love for Josh, she'll seek revenge. Having been on the receiving end of some bad haircuts, I totally sympathize. Whatever happens, Josh will get what he deserves because, not even Chef deserves to suffer the kind of humiliation born of a haircut like this.

Following Steph's lead I decided to take the Relationship Quiz. Naturally, it told me something I already knew. See results below:

Your Ideal Relationship is Serious Dating
You're not ready to go walking down the aisle.But you may be ready in a couple of years.You prefer to date one on one, with a commitment.And while chemistry is important, so is compatibility.

Your Seduction Style: Au Natural

You rank up there with your seduction skills, though you might not know it. That's because you're a natural at seduction. You don't realize your power! The root of your natural seduction power: your innocence and optimism. You're the type of person who happily plays around and creates a unique little world. Little do you know that your personal paradise is so appealing that it sucks people in. You find joy in everything - so is it any surprise that people find joy in you? You bring back the inner child in everyone you meet with your sincere and spontaneous ways. Your childlike (but not childish) behavior also inspires others to care for you. As a result, those who you befriend and date tend to be incredibly loyal to you.

Your Ideal Relationship is Marriage

You've dated enough to know what you want. And that's marriage - with the right person. You're serious about settling down some time soon. Even if you haven't met the person you want to get hitched to!

Amber in Sunday School recently during a lesson about Abraham and Issac: "All I'm saying is if your father puts wood on your back--run like hell."
_______________________

Gwen to Rae on Rae's French: "You may be done but if you say it that way, you're dead."
_______________________

Rae looking straight at Amber: "Now that's a little tart!"

Below are the results of a kissing quiz I took tonight. I found the link on Steph's solo blog and well, in the fight between curiosity and logic, curiosity was the victor. According to the quiz I am a "passionate kisser."
I also took the "How You Are in Love" quiz. The results, although not a total disappointment, were undesirable. Therefore, they will remain unknown to all but me.

You're a Passionate Kisser
For you, kissing is about all about following your urges (true)
If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story ("hot" is not limited to looks, it can also mean hot for me)
You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses (duh)
A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble (more trouble than I would care to admit)

These are some thoughts I've had in recent days that I want to record before they dissipate forever.
I love the ability I have, as a woman, to hush men. Often while passing two men engaged in conversation they will cease speaking when they see me. Their conversation will not resume until after I have passed. I am not sure why this occurs but I have noticed it a lot lately. I have also observed men doing this as other women pass. Some women may perceive this behavior as immature or perverse but I don't. Most women probably don't even notice that men do it. It is something my girlfriends and I have never discussed but I have come to relish the reverence of the hush and appreciate that I can initiate it.
Friday as I was descending the Dupont South metro escalator a man passed me wearing cologne. Although I love cologne, most men I have dated did not wear it. This was probably a good thing. Cologne has this incredibly seductive power. Its a power that defies all explanation. All I know is when a man is wearing cologne, especially a scent I find appealing, I'm ready to go. Its an automatic turn on. Like heated seats in a luxury sports car. I even find it difficult to concentrate because my entire focus becomes, "how can I get closer to that?" Long after this stranger passed I was still craning my neck and breathing deeply to hold onto the smell. Sigh. If only all men had that kind of class.
Saturday I spent the day studying beneath the Library of Congress's hallowed dome. President Hinckley has said that good books are like friends. I believe that's true. Sometimes I can find comfort in a story that I can not find in a friend. I love libraries. They represent a culmination of knowledge civilization has managed to preserve and pass on. I feel so inspired every time I gaze up at the statues of history's great men. The reverence the art and architecture invoke is incredible. How can one, witnessing such mortal accomplishments, doubt man's ability to become like God?
For the past three days we have enjoyed sunny spring-like weather. Friday and Saturday, as I was walking through the City, all I could think was, "this is the perfect day to fall in love." Did I? No, but there is always the hope and for now that will suffice.

Yesterday was one of those days you can't easily classify. You know, it defies simple summation. It wasn't a "bad" day but it wasn't a "great" day either. It was an honest mixture of both positive and negative.
The good...
During one particularly low point yesterday I noticed an older couple sitting on some steps near my office. The woman's face was turned so all I could see was her profile. She also had long hair, which she wore down and it hung loosely across her cheek. The man although facing me failed to notice my presence until I passed because he was kissing his partner. I would like to think the intamacy was motivated by love more than lust, but who knows? Either way, I couldn't help but smile. And for that, I thank them.
I would also like to thank another stranger who kindly offered his seat to me on the metro. I was just about to give up on humanity altogether, well really just the male half, and then this stranger offers to stand so I can sit. In addition, the man was young and very attractive. All I could think as I sat there watching him was, "I know exactly how I'd like to thank you."
Then there was Manuel. Manuel is my fabulous Georgetown hairstylist. If he wasn't gay I would totally go for it. There is something about a man doing my hair that is ohhh soo satisfactory. (small moan, devilish grin) My last two visits to Manuel's have been questionable. Please don't misunderstand. I am always pleased with my hair but he's been keeping me at his salon for lengthy amounts of time.
Yesterday was different, though. After showering me with kisses he worked me right in and then didn't charge me. Granted, all I got was a bang trim but the experience really improved my feelings about our relationship.
So, to all the strangers and Manuel I encountered yesterday who saved the day from total worthlessness...THANK YOU!
**Disclaimer: Stephanie always contributes to the positive aspects of each day.

You Are Las Vegas

Wild and uninhibited, you enjoy all of life's vices. You're a total hedonist, especially with sex, gambling, and drinking. You shine brightly every night, but you do the ultimate walk of shame each morning. Famous Las Vegas residents: Wayne Newton, Howard Hughes, Penn & Teller, Siegfried & Roy

Everything in life has rules and R.A.G.S is subject to them as well. We're discovering that we have "The 75% Rule" with startling accuracy. Last night was the perfect example. 75% of us watched the Oscars. 75% of us are in the Langley ward. 75% of us now live within 5 miles of each other. 75% of us scrapbook. It's rotating, you see. We've discovered that it's all about tringulation! Every now and then we drop to a 50% on something or hit 100% but that just averages out to 75% eventually.

I had funnier stories to share about it but I'm old and I stayed out far too late to watch a silly awards program last night. I'll have to be funny later.

"I'm not saying 'Let's form a crusade and invade the sinners in Maryland..."

Me: I feel listless today. I think it's the weather. Just all BLAH, you know?

Gwen: Try diet pills. I'm buzzingly listless. I don't WANT to do anything but I just can't help it!