Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Too Small?

Introducing: a handset for your cell phone. Because cell phones have gotten so small you get a hand cramp if you talk on one for any length of time. And everyone is on them all the time. That's technology, folks.


Fred Retro Handset for Cell Phones
Retro receiver that connects to a cell phone.
Works with most phones and includes adaptors.
Item is 2.5''x 8''.
Cord is approx 19'' long.
AvailabilityAvailable to Ship
Available now on

Odds and Ends

1. Begin Cycle 32

2. Crazy landlady- says we can stay through May now

3. Looking for a Christmas tree- easier than house hunting

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

What have I been Doing?

interest rates


Monday, November 27, 2006

Hill Towns- book review

Anne Rivers Siddons- Hill Towns

As soon as I began this book about a little girl who was afraid to leave the Mountain, even though it held such dark memories for her, I was enveloped in it. The story held sway over my mood and emotions. At times I raged at Cat for the choices she was making, but I never doubted that it is what she would do.

But more than that, I was with Cat as she faced a journey that was at once unbelievable and completely credible. Her journey took her so far outside her comfort zone that she could never possibly return and left her unalterably changed. It is a psychic journey that I can identify with, that I compare to the road that I am travelling.

The book didn't tell where Cat's journey ended any more than it told me where mine will end. It is fitting that it ends in uncertainty, as there really is no end.


Sunday, November 26, 2006

Where to Live- dream journal

jc and I had moved cross country and were looking for a place to live. We finally found a small one room apartment in a shopping mall. It was right next to a fast food restaurant. I was going all around the mall on roller skates. It turned out there was some kind of convention there. After the convention, we left. Before we left, a lady showed me all the accomodations at the other end of the mall. There were cabins and camping spots and many people had stayed there. Next I was on the bus with two classmates from high school. For a change they were being nice to me. Suddenly they decided they needed the bus for something else and hijacked it. We went careening wildly around curves on a country road.

Sronnoc Esor

Saturday, November 25, 2006


I'm of the opinion that you should claim responsibility for your actions, even if you can't control them. jc doesn't usually snore, but when he does and I say, "I can't sleep, you're snoring too loud.", he replies with offended tone, "I can't help it. Put your earplugs in." Well last night I was on call and had to be able to hear the phone, so I resorted to sleeping on the sofa. Snoring Beauty isn't even up yet and probably won't even realize I slept on the sofa to be properly remorseful. If I remind him of it, then I'm just a bitch. Why does his snoring always manage to make me look bad?

Well, this is quite a rant and I forgive you for skipping it. I feel better with that off my chest.


Friday, November 24, 2006

Response to Twisty from XBFRN

Author definitely has some daddy issues. I keep waiting for my silver spoon to arrive since I am after all a white male, but apparently the 1/8 of me that is Native American precludes me from dominance. I figured that the thanksgiving in the beginning was probably more of a robbery then a party, but who knows. I think that the author is right, but in her efforts to get back at the huge christian tradition has skewed things to the point of militant lesbian atheism (my term it will be in my book i believe).

The thing about america is that we are guilty. The Romans conquered the whole planet as far as they knew and never apologized, same with the Greeks, the Inca, the Aztecs, the Huns, the Ottoman-Turks, ad nauseum. Humans love to dominate each other, and civilization does the same; this is not limited to the whites.

In 100 years when another race, be it Hispanic or Chinese, takes over, will they say, "oh we conquered you here is a job and welfare, but we still think you're inferior, but this helps us feel better about it."? War is violent, as are humans in general.

Seeing my heritage, I hate the whites, the Huns, the Irish, the British, the Sioux, the Mexicans, the Canadians, the Romans, the Amish, the Lutherans, the Wasps, industry, and a few others; since at some point they have all done something to someone in my lineage that was morally inexcuseable. In an effort to consolidate my energies, I am declaring war on anyone who makes more then 4 million a year; they after all are above law and national borders. When was the last time Murdoch got a speeding ticket? The true powers lie in finance, not race; as long as we battle each other for the crumbs the guy holding the bread is safe. That's my soapbox today; dont forget to vote for me in 2016.

Mission Impossible 3: movie review


There isn't much to say about this. It is incredibly long at 126 minutes, and I found it to be quite boring. I think I could have turned it off at any time with no problem. If you like special effects and firefights, maybe you would like it. There is an interesting plot twist where you're not sure who the bad guys are for a while. There is a nice human element involving Ethan Hunt's desire for a normal personal life. Oh, and the part where the girl they rescue dies because the defibillator takes 30 seconds to charge up. I had a hard time with that one when they have all the latest toys. To end my rambling, I'll just say, Tom Cruise is old news.


Journeys-dream journal

Lately, my dreams have been troubled and I have awakened with the vague sense that I did everything wrong without remembering what really happened. Last night, they were pretty well back to normal.

I was walking on some back roads with Father and it started to get dark, so we were hurrying home. I told him that I had gotten a new job at the college as a counselor. He wanted to know if I had called the number he gave me. I told him, I tried a few times, but there was no answer. Then we got on a bus. Mr. Clean and Robin were there too. We were going to a parade in celebration of something. Robin and I fell behind and had to run to catch up. There was a whole line of animals in cages, and the guy running the thing had a miniature dachshund the size of a hot dog in a plastic trash can. It kept jumping out and running away.

I was walking up a dirt road to see someone. There was a stream running by the road and a little boy was playing in it. I broke his toy by accident. Then I watched from a distance before deciding to turn around and go back. I slid down some of the hills on my belly like an otter. There was a town meeting and the mother of some friends of Robin was there.

Sronnoc Esor

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Hop on over and read this

While I fully intend to satiate myself with Thanksgiving turkey and I even made a list of things I'm thankful for, I usually get a big kick out of Twisty's essays and this one is no exception.

Here's an excerpt to whet your interest:

Horribly, Thanksgiving’s repellent foodly intemperance is nearly always
presented at some weird, un-dinner-like hour of the afternoon, then it’s back to
the TV for the patriarchs, and back to the scullery for the womenfolk, where
they scour off the carbonized substrate of the sugary sweet potato-marshmallow
pie, wrap in foil the remains of the enhormoned, tortured Butterball, tuck into
Tupperware the green been casserole made with Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup
and French’s Fried Onions, and chuck out the untouched can-shaped cylinder of
Ocean Spray “cranberry sauce” that nobody understands, eats, or can live
without. Afterward, everybody either falls comatose or writhes, suffering
varying degrees of physical and emotional distress, on such seating — usually a
small needlepoint footstool or one of the dining room chairs — as has not been
previously commandeered by the football-watching males.


Wednesday, November 22, 2006


As we sat eating our nice, civilized dinner and sipping wine Sunday, the landlady came on the answering machine to tell us that we need to get out because she's sold the place. That's a provision of the lease. No date set in stone yet, we have 2-3 months.

This got me thinking that landlords around here are really awful and we should buy a house. So today, I talked to the loan officer, talked to the real estate agent, and looked through listings some more.

On the hunt for somewhere to live again.


Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Signing- dream journal

The only thing I remember from last night is signing my name with my maiden name which always felt awkward and stilted for me and I had to repeat for people. Two nights ago I dreamed that we visited Granny the day of my dinner party and she served the menu I had planned. My dreams have been unusually wrapped up in worry, and thus I haven't even tried to remember them.

Sronnoc Esor

Speaking but still Thoughtful

Suppose a man receives a letter from his father in law containing these (among many other) words:

After I had invested twenty-some years of my life in her, thousands of
prayers, and thousands and thousands of dollars, I did not want some man thinking
that she was a cheap sexual object to take advantage of.

Is the man's wife wrong to believe that her father sees her as nothing but voiceless, thoughtless, choiceless Property? An investment. Is she wrong to wonder if any supposed relationship with her father has been a meaningless charade?

The letter goes on to encourage the man to be a spiritual leader in the household and make sure his wife goes to church and reads the Bible.

So the man's wife is reduced to a caged animal who cannot decide when to have sex, what to read, or where to go.

The man's wife is very upset with the man's father in law.


Sunday, November 19, 2006

Enforced Thoughtfulness

I've lost my voice. It's been more or less gone for almost two days now. At work, the first night it was gone, a coworker commented that it made hime think about the value of saying less. Another coworker missed my chattiness. It makes me feel a little like a different person, miming and writing, and saving that for important communication. But here on my blog, I'm the same with or without my voice.

I'm busy cooking up a storm for company tonight. Sometimes I like spending the day in the kitchen.


Friday, November 17, 2006


The first time I took a shower in the new house I couldn't help but notice that the shower hits me somewhere in the region of the neck. I have a decided aversion to water in my face and you have to be a contortionist to get the spray to hit the top of your head. So I got a handheld sprayer. The supporting apparatus gives it eight inches or so, making it just fine. The only problem is, the new shower head uses more water and now there's four or five inches of water accumulated in the tub by the time you finish showering. So I dumped the drain cleaner down the thing with no result and let my landlady know that it wasn't draining well.

When the plumbers showed up this morning, it turned out the trap was too short to snake it and the sink drains into the tub drain, or something like that. They had to cut the pipe to fix it, the tub is a mess, the landlady is frantic because she's showing the house tonight. Oh, and "you're using fiberglass cleaner on that, right?"


Thursday, November 16, 2006

Putative- word of the day

putative \PYOO-tuh-tiv\, adjective:
Commonly thought or deemed; supposed; reputed.

Certainly, to have even a putative ancestor commemorated
by Shakespeare is something about which to boast.-- Frances Spalding, Duncan
Grant: A Biography

A report has found that the putative evidence for the
paper that started the controversy was fabricated.-- Margot O'Toole, "The
Whistle-Blower and the Train Wreck", New York
, April 12, 1991

Putative comes from Late Latin putativus, from Latin putare, "to cleanse, to prune, to clear up, to consider, to reckon, to think." It is related to compute, "to calculate" (from com-, intensive prefix + putare); dispute, "to contend in argument" (from dis-, "apart" + putare); and reputation, "the estimation in which one is held" (from reputatio, from the past participle of reputare, "to think over," from re-, "again" + putare).

another meme from ScienceWoman

1. Yourself: nurse
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: jc
3. Your hair: red
4. Your mother: caring
5. Your father: controlling
6. Your favorite item: my piano
7. Your dream last night: ?
8. Your favorite drink: chocolate milk
9. Your dream car: 4WD station wagon
10. The room you are in: filtered natural light
11. Your ex: my friend
12. Your fear: infertility
13. What you want to be in 10 years: a mother
14. Who you hung out with last night: jc
15. What you're not: energetic
16. Muffins: chocolate chocolate chip
17: One of your wish list items: kitchen island
18: Time: 10:17
19. The last thing you did: woke up
20. What you are wearing: nightgown
21. Your favorite weather: warm autumn days
22. Your favorite book: the dictionary?
23. The last thing you ate: swedish meatballs
24. Your life: happy
25. Your mood: hopeful
26. Your best friend (s): jc
27. What are you thinking about right now: food
28. Your car: Infiniti M45
29. What are you doing at the moment: obviously...
30. Your summer: relaxing
31. Your relationship status: contented
32. What is on your tv: cat toys
33. What is the weather like: windy
34. When is the last time you laughed: yesterday

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

re: RE

This morning I don't think I'll do it at all. Maybe my FNP can run the basic tests for lupus anticoagulant. I don't think I'm emotionally capable of going on that whole infertility ride. Dahlia Man always says, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." It seems that it is the thought of changing the status quo that makes me unhappy. If so, then I'll just keep it the same.


Bees- dream journal

I was visiting BJU. Someone dropped me off at the curb with all my stuff. My old roommates drove by and stopped to pick me up. Instead of taking me to the dorm though, they just kept driving around in circles. I jumped out and went into the Amphitorium since it was time for chapel. I sat in a pretty empty section of the balcony near Mark Ort, the guy my good friend married. I had to turn sideways to fit down the aisle. I said, "I guess I've put on some weight since college." Halfway through the service, most of the students got up and ran out the exit doors in a panic. Dr. Bob was yelling at them to stop. I was looking around to see what was wrong, but I couldn't see anything. Then one girl stopped running down the aisle to swat at a huge bee. After that I noticed bees all around me, but they weren't hurting me. I saw some guy who was releasing bees and taunting me to run away.

Sronnoc Esor

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Looking for Help

I like to have all the answers.

I like to know ahead of time what the options are.

I like to be in control.

I dislike doctors.

I've spent most of yesterday and today trying to find a doctor to help us get pregnant. Trouble is, I don't even know who I should see first. The American College of OB/GYN only lists four reproductive endocrinolgists (REs) in the state of Oregon. But then, when I visit their websites, they all talk about IVF as the first treatment option.

I don't want IVF.

Or at least I don't think I do.

Should I just be going to a plain old OB/GYN to start out with? What are they going to want to do?

jc had good sperm counts when they were tested ten years ago. I don't think he wants to do it again. Does he need to? What are the factors that would make it different?

I didn't have endometriosis when I had my exploratory laparoscopy ~five years ago. When the doctor hears that I still have chronic pelvic pain, are they going to want to do another one? I don't want one.

What is this going to cost? (addendum: I just read that basic testing runs $4,000- $11,000; my insurance doesn't cover a dime.)

What is the chance of finding a treatment that A) I'll agree to and B)will work?

I was doing pretty well emotionally with the idea of continuing to try on our own for a while and adopting if it didn't work. Now, I am seduced by the idea that if there is an easy fix, it would be stupid not to find out about it. This is more of an emotional struggle.

They're almost certainly going to want me to start doing basal body temperature charting (BBTs) again. I hate temping, but I'll probably start next cycle so I have some stats to show the doc when I see him.

I guess I need to call my FNP and ask her for a referral.

This is too concrete. I want to cry. I want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. I want to drink myself into oblivion, smoke a pack of cigarettes; heck, get really high, until I forget all about TTC.

My life is way too good to drag myself down by thinking about this too much. I love my jc. I love the kitties. I love my work. I love this Oregon and the delightful bay where we live.

Why must I want this one thing that I can't have? I wish I could just turn it off and forget about it. I don't want the label fertile or infertile or sub-fertile or anything else they're going to call me. I'm afraid this quest is only going to land me with the label crazy.


Monday, November 13, 2006

Yard Birds

I hung the feeders in the new backyard this week and was almost immediately rewarded by the folowing common yard birds.

White-crowned Sparrow
(a whole family)

Song Sparrow

Dark-eyed Junco

House Sparrow
(the bird of sidewalk cafes everywhere)

Fox Sparrow

American Crow
(they fly off with whole apples)

Steller's Jay
(noisy and piggish, but beautiful)
(photos obviously not mine from Kaufman Focus Guides Birds of North America)


The lights flickered last night in the middle of putting together my fake leather red retro chair. As I sat at my laptop contemplating the purchase of an artificial christmas tree, the lights went out. I lit all the candles in the dining room before coming up with the idea to drive to a nearby town and get mcdonald's or something. About half a mile onto the highway, we encountered many tail lights at a standstill. We turned around and went home, read by candlelight, and went to sleep early.

Small town life.


Sunday, November 12, 2006

a Note on Nomenclature

j. has informed me that he would rather be referred to on the blog as jc.

Noted and Done.


Saturday, November 11, 2006

More Views out the Window

Looking Out

Looking In

Trying to Come In

Lookalike On the Fence
photo credits to j.

crusty bread

This is the loaf that I prepared and j. baked as I slept this morning. I have despaired of making light, crusty bread, but this is the golden ticket. It's a little messy to make, but the result is amazing. Here's the recipe.
Recipe: No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Jim Lahey, Sullivan Street BakeryTime: About 1½ hours plus 14 to 20 hours' rising
3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
1¼ teaspoons salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.
1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.
3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.
Yield: One 1½-pound loaf.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Last of the Breed

I'm pretty pathetic when it comes to correspondence. You wouldn't know it from my blabbering on this blog, but I have a hard time keeping in touch with people. I've lost touch with all my college friends from BJU, the first time around. Of course, that was before e-mail. I thought those were good friends, but then again, they're all holy rollers and I wonder what I would still have in common with them anyway.

I've kept one important friend from Penn State: XBFRN. I talked to him today, and it often makes me sort of melancholy thinking about the good times we had together back then. I guess the fact that the good was so near to the bad made it that much better.
Tonight, I'm pouring wine and thinking of you.

congeries- word of the day

congeries \KON-juh-reez\, noun:A collection; an aggregation.

As the great French historian Fernand Braudel pointed out in his last major
work, The Identity of France (1986), it was the railroad that made France into
one nation and one culture. It had previously been a congeries
of self-contained regions, held together only politically.-- Peter F. Drucker,
"Beyond the Information Revolution", Atlantic Monthly, October 1999

William Rothenstein described the Academie as a "congeries
of studios crowded with students, the walls thick with palette scrapings, hot,
airless and extremely noisy."-- Jeffrey Meyers, Bogart:
A Life in Hollywood

More important, he doesn't tell us that the Kennedy Administration was a
very uneasy congeries of vastly differing types of Democrats
with conflicting foreign-policy agendas.-- James C. Thomson Jr., "Whose Side
Were They On?" review of Friends and Enemies: The United States, China, and the
Soviet Union, 1948-1972, by Gordon H. Chang, New York Times, July 29, 1990

Congeries is from Latin congeries, "a heap, a mass," from congerere, "to carry together, to bring together, to collect," from com-, "with, together" + gerere, "to carry." It is related to congest, "to overfill or overcrowd," which derives from the past participle of congerere.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

back home again

We're happily home again after a great getaway. We're reminded every time we leave that a few days is more than enough time away for us.

We drove to Portland, arriving Sunday afternoon. As soon as we left the coast, we were confronted with the changing leaves. The beautiful bright yellows contrasted warmly with the dark green of the firs. I never did get wi-fi in the hotel, they blamed it on the weather, or I would have written sooner.

The plan was to go out Sunday evening for some micro-brews. We walked around the mall and got some delicious Indian chicken tandoori. Unfortuately, after riding the train and streetcar around and walking in the rain, we never did find anywhere we were looking for. j. started getting crabby about our purposeless wandering, and we went back to the hotel with a six-pack to eat the sushi we had in the mini-frig.

Monday, I got up early for the nursing meeting. It was well-0rganized and professionally run, and the speakers were well-spoken experts who had something to say and were worth listening to. I came away with some new information and good reminders about old stuff. Of course, there is always plenty of food at those shindigs. I was appalled by the way many of my colleagues were dressed for such a thing. I saw lots of jeans and sweatshirts and very few who looked professional. What can you expect of people who wear pajamas to work, huh?

In the afternoon, we decided to take a second stab at going out drinking. We went to McCormick and Schmick's for an early dinner. I had Tombi Tuna, served rare on a bed of rice with wasabi sauce and greens and topped with pickled ginger. The whiskey sour on the side had me approaching very silly well before dessert was offered. For dessert I had the chocolate hazelnut pie, served warm with vanilla ice cream and an Irish coffee. Being well on the way to drunkenness, we went to Powell's City of Books, a block large, four-story bookstore in the Pearl District. I bought the Tao Te Ching, a lovely illustrated copy.

On the way home, we stopped in a bar where I had the experience for the first time of being refused service on account of my youthful appearance. j. reminded me that I should hang my ID around my neck for such occasions. We went back to the hotel and had a beer and hot wings in the rooftop bar.

Tuesday morning we went to the Portland Art Museum for the Egypt exhibit. The huge stone sarcophagus lid sat in the lobby. I loved the smooth, onyx-colored Isis and Osiris statues. There were funereal finger cots, masks and gold sandals as well as jewelry, a pyramidion and other cool stuff. The museum's Asian display is impressive with Buddhas, Bodhisattvas and the six-armed woman as well as lovely woodblocks and paintings. The Northwestern Native American art consisted of intricate baskets woven from up to four different grasses, painstaking beadwork and traditional costumes. My favorite was the Raven Steals the Sun costume. (Click the link for the amazing story, or watch Northern Exposure season 3 episode 10.)

We went to Silk by Pho Van for lunch. I had vegetarian spring rolls, lotus tea, and noodles and shrimp. It was a great reminder of the food Hien Nguyen used to make me eat back when I worked homecare and took care of her. If you haven't had Vietnamese food, head out to your local Vietnamese restaurant posthaste and order something with lemongrass in the name.

On the way home we stopped at another mall, and I came home with a new bedside table, shower caddy, over the door hooks, and other such things. Now, we're back on a diet and a budget. This move and vacation thing has near bankrupted us. Also time to get back to doing yoga. I've been slacking and my body is complaining.

Anyone who made it this far in this post gets The Booby Prize as congratulations.


Saturday, November 04, 2006

big trip tomorrow

I've been feeling poorly. I'm afraid I'm getting the flu that plauged j. for days and is still troubling him some. I called in sick tonight after a rough time last night. Our plan is to breakfast with Dahlia Man in the AM and then dash off to Portland. (Note to self: make sure none of the thorofares are blocked by mudslides.) We get half a free day Sunday, I got to a class on Monday, and Tuesday we go to the Portland Art Museum for The Quest for Immortality: Treasures of Ancient Egypt. If we're still having a good time, we'll stay Tuesday night and get trashed on local microbrews or something on Wednesday. In preparation for the good time, I must now go and get a good night's sleep. If I'm not having too much fun, I'll check in with you.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Kitties out the window

I followed Ailleanach's intent stare out the window to see this kitty family.

This one wanted to play in the street instead of following Mama and Sister in out of the rain.

Mama told the little one to stay put and headed back very purposefully for the straggler.

Sister poked her head out to see where Mama and Straggler had gotten to.

Safely back across the street, they scooted in out of the rain.
There's a story everywhere.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Just Cause and Rope- movie review

Just Cause


Somehow the movies that arrived yesterday for j. and I respectively both had to do with murder. We're not big fans of whodunits and only watch the occasional thriller, so this seemed like a strange coincidence.

Rope is a Hitchcock film, something to ponder on rather than excite. The thesis is that morality only holds true for the masses and the upper crust, the inteligentsia, may do as they like up to and including murder. Jimmy Stewart is true to form. When confronted with the practical reality of his idealogy, he admits his error.

Just Cause had me cutting off the blood flow to j.'s hand and even covering my eyes at one point. I think Ed Harris deserved an Oscar for being creepy to the max. It included a plot twist that separated it from the ordinary. In addition, the Everglades are downright creepy.

Two questions arise.

Number one: who decides who has value in society? Is it the intelligent? That's mostly a matter of breeding. The social elite? A combination of birth and fakery. The educated? The employed? The nice guy? If we were going to start pruning the undesirables from the world, who would decide who goes first?

Number two: should we use the death penalty? It comes down to a question of who gets to decide again. We've decided to trust a jury of ordinary people to decide guilt or innocence. We already know that innocent people get convicted and guilty ones go free every day. I'm not ready to trust justice to the caprice of fate, but is it right to take a life for a life? How about a life for two lives, or three or four? Who decides?


Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Random meme- copied from ScienceWoman

Explain what ended your last relationship. Combination of circumstance, non-inertia, and another man.

When was the last time you shaved? Partial yesterday; complete can't rembember.

What were you doing this morning at 8AM? Snoozing.

What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Writing a novel.

Are you any good at math? I can add, subtract, multiply and divide and do simple algebra.

Your prom night, what do you remember about it? My Christian school didn't have prom, but we had a banquet. I went 'stag'-with other girls. The rest is a blank.

Do you have any famous ancestors? No one you would know. Some chief justices in England a Revolutionary War colonel are the most prestigious.

Have you had to take a loan out for school? Twice.

Do you know the words to the song on your MySpace profile? Don't have one.

Last thing received in the mail? Netflix

How many different beverages have you had today? enough water to swallow pills and hot tea.

Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine? Yes, awkward ones.

Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Um, Pam Tillis, free tickets.

Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? No.

What's the most painful dental procedure you've had? Toss up between drilling and cleaning.

What is out your back door? At the moment, probably a possum eating fallen apples.

Any plans for Friday night? work

Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? No.

Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Yes, from Baptist Nun for Christmas

Have you ever been to a planetarium? Yes.

Do you re-use towels after you shower? Yes. j. uses two new ones every time though.

Some things you are excited about? Trip to Portland this week. Nothing to do.

What is your favorite flavor of JELL-O? Green.

Describe your keychain(s)? Robin's egg blue leather Nine West matches my purse.

Where do you keep your change? My wallet. I like to use exact change.

When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people? The last time I remember is a high school program where I told a Brer Rabbit story.

What kind of winter coat do you own? I don't really need one here.

What was the weather like on your graduation day? High school- it rained and I lost my favorite raincoat. College- sunny both times.

Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? Ajar.


National Novel Writing Month is underway, and in a move that feels foolish even to myself, I am undertaking to write a 50,000 word work of fiction between November 1 and November 30. With my pre-organized thoughts in mind, I began today. I have a start with 2,900 words, thoughts that are beginning to flow more smoothly, and characters that are gaining shape in my mind. I am widely known for my inability to complete large tasks, so we'll see where this gets me. One way or another, my protagonist is helping me sort out conflicts that I need to think about.