Heather's Blog

Don't Blink! You Just Might Miss Me

Who would have thought I'd be on a plane to Europe in just under twelve hours. But it's true! Something came up and I had the chance to go to Europe real cheap, so I took it. I'll get to see some friends, I'll have a chance to relax and visit some touristy places, and I'll be taking care of some business too. I should have internet access while I'm there, though, at least for a little bit. So I'll try my best to post little updates on the blog. Have fun while I'm away, cause dang, I'll be having a good time. :)

And This Little Piggy Went Blah, Blah, Blah

I've done a lot this week. Honest, I have. I just haven't felt like I had much to say. I don't even feel like I have much to say now, but I felt like I needed to blog for some reason. So here goes nothing.

There have been so many little things lately, hanging over my head, waiting for me to get them done. I finally just got on with it. I whittled my email inboxes down from 40 to 2, and 25 to 1; I finally turned some of my favorite songs from a DVD into Mp3s; I practically finished the proposal for the Daily Prophet, and now I'm waiting for feedback on it; I wrote to Courtauld for the second time to see about delaying entry; I finished a website for a friend, and started working on another one; I tried to work on that thing for the soldiers, but it failed, but eh; I reconnected with some old friends, and made a new one; I finished a bulletin board at church that I was asked to update (you can see it here); I took care of some issues with the techincal side of the Daily Prophet; I've been told I'm ruthless in business - in a good way - by two different people this week; I've gone to the dentist, the acupuncturist, a doctor, and had two MRIs. The only thing I have left to do that I can think of right off-hand is to clean my room. But eh.

I've been productive. I've gotten a lot done. But I really don't feel all that excited about anything right now. Maybe it was because that soldier thing failed, but even that didn't seem to bother me too much. I mean, I gave it my best shot, I did everything I could, but the Red Cross had to back out. And for understandable reasons, even, so it wasn't like they screwed me over or anything. They just couldn't do it. But hey, I tried. Can't fault me for that, right?

I haven't really failed at anything else this week that I know of. I've actually done a pretty darn good job, I'd say. But still I just have this overwhelming urge to be lazy, to not do anything. I think it's the stress. I got through a burst of productivity to save myself from thinking about something serious that's been going on, but I think it's finally gotten to me. Everything's just blah, and that's never a good feeling.

Then there's the whole feeling lonely thing. It happens every once and a while. It's a byproduct of having friends spread all over the globe. Pros and cons to that, and this is one of the cons: I miss them. I miss them bad right now, which is also from the stress I think, and the fact that the stress was caused by someone that was kind of filling the friend-gap for a while. But maybe it also has something to do with how I've been thinking of running away for a while, to get away from things for the time being, and so I started thinking about which friends I have where, and who wouldn't mind rescuing me for a week or so. I got to thinking about it, and now I can't stop thinking about it. Stupid stress. One friend did offer to come here to protect me because he says he's a, "crazy ass red neck, with a gun," but I feel bad asking him to actually come here. I'd love for him to be here, but I know it'd take him away from work and I just can't do that. It was sweet of him, though. Plus, hey, if I go to see him, there are stables nearby - I could finally go ride a horse. So maybe I'll go to the red neck, rather than having the red neck come to me. Hehe.

But then there's someone else I'd really like to go see too, but it's harder to go see him. Farther away, and it's certainly not driveable. Stupid oceans, getting in my way.

I'm not sure I could really go anywhere right now anyway. Like I said, I went to see my dentist, and he says I need to have my wisdom teeth out as soon as possible. Oh joy. Apparently they're coming in at an angle and crowding the rest of my jaw. Hoorah. And then, as if that weren't enough, I have an appointment to see a general surgeon on Monday. It looks like I'll probably be having a series of operations to take care of some questionable tumors. Huzzah. All of this needs to be handled in April, because May's going to be busy now that I've volunteered for the WWII Memorial Dedication. I guess the wisdom teeth could be delayed, but they're aching something fierce (I've always wanted to say that), and I don't want to mess up my teeth. The tumors, they can't be delayed at all. They're making me gain a little bit of weight, they hurt, and I just can't stand it anymore. They're coming out ASAP, cause it's just more stress. I hate the fact that I'm eating decently, I'm exercising, and I have no say over how my weight reacts. It sucks. Big time. Stupid tumors.

Well, I've run out of things to babble about now. I could try to sleep, but that's still messed up. And I'd like to avoid taking those sleeping pills the doctor gave me, I think they may be partly to blame for this overwhelming sense of blah. Let's see how tomorrow goes. Looks like Stephen's coming over, we might go bowling or something. That should be good.

Putting Monday in a Blender

Today has been a day of absolute extremes. To begin to explain this, I'll start with the frightening and upsetting extreme, that way I'll end up on the happy side and we'll all go to bed with warm fuzzies. Sound good to you?

I had three different appointments at Walter Reed hospital today - first, acupuncture as usual. Second, I needed to have a cast of my foot made for an orthotic insert for my shoe. Third, two MRIs needed to be taken care of; one for my head, one for my upper arm.

Acupuncture went fine. I told the doctor that the headaches have been worse this past week, that I was out of percocet, and asked if there were any specific acupuncture points for stress. He asked what was wrong and so I told him about the wild and frightening events of this past week, about the after effects I'll have to deal with for the next few weeks, and just how shaken up I am. The acupuncturist was really sweet about it all. He suggested I learn how to fire a handgun, and then he gave me some extra acupuncture needles to take home with me. He gave me a little lesson in two basic acupuncture points that would help my head if the stress continued to make the headaches worse. Even though he gave me the percocet again, he doesn't want me using it unless I absolutely have to. Frankly, I agree with him - I hate that stuff.

So that was actually not that bad today. I was so distracted and my head hurt badly enough that the needles didn't bother me today. Plus, I think he went easy on me today. No extra needles at all or anything.

The orthotic process went well enough. I had to wait for a while for it, but I was fine with that. There was a very nice man waiting with me there and we got to talking. He was very chatty, but also let me ramble on about The Daily Prophet, my quandry over college. It actually made me feel a lot better. It was nice to voice all that stress, the plans, the anxiety, all to a perfect stranger. I ended up giving him my business card and now we're emailing each other back and forth. He may even end up helping out with the Daily Prophet a bit, and hopefully I'll be able to tutor his son as soon as I get the site going again. Cool, huh?

The extreme came around 3:00 in the afternoon, when I had my MRIs. The first one wasn't bad, it was just a twenty minute study of the flow of fluids from my spinal cord to my brain. That one was incredibly important, though, because it could provide an answer about my headaches - if the flow of spinal fluid is restricted, then that will prove that the Chiari Malformation of my brainstem is the culprit after all. Have a definitive diagnosis would be great, but the stinky part of that deal is that there's no treatment for it. Oh well.

Like I said, the first twenty minutes was fine. Normally I actually kind of like being in that MRI tube. I don't like the loud noises, of course, but the small white tube, the calm time to think, the soft lighting. It's soothing somehow. After the flow study, though, I had to have an MRI done of my upper arm. You see, they've found another tumor, and this one's really worrying me. It's hurting a lot, it makes my arm go numb at times, and it's growing rapidly. In order to have it scanned I had to lay on this tough foam board thing, which then rapped around my head very awkwardly with a cord. That cord then connected to another tough foam board thingie that had to be strapped around my chest. Basically, I was the middle of a foam board sandwich, and it hurt.

Not only that, because it was my left arm, I had to squish myself up onto the right side of the tube, with all this stuff strapped onto me. I thought I'd be fine, but about ten minutes into the scan, something snapped. Suddenly my chest felt like it was baking, I broke out into a sweat. The foam boards felt as if they were being heated like some kind of electric stove, burning their way into my chest. My stomach started to churn, I wanted to throw up. It seemed as if my hospital gown had wound its way around my neck, trying desperately to gag me. I couldn't see straight, my head was pounding, all I could think about was climbing out of that tube and never going back in.

It felt like I had been in there for ages. Finally, in between scanning cycles, I asked if I was done yet. No one answered. I asked again. Still no one. Then the cycle started back up again, the pounding noises came back, and I started to gag. I tried as hard as I could to hold perfectly still, knowing if I messed this one up I'd only have to do it over again.
The cycle ended again. I asked to get out again. No one was there. The pounding started again. Trying desperately to distract myself, I tried to think about anything else at all, but all I could think about was how I'd possibly get out of that tube if I were in trouble, if I'd been forgotten, if the building were on fire, if suddenly Godzilla attacked the building right then and there. Anything. It all seems so ridiculous now, but it seemed real at the time (except the Godzilla bit, I never thought about that one.) The cycle ended again, and I said, "I want to get out now, please let me out." Finally, someone responded, telling me I only had one scan left, just another five minutes.

Those five minutes felt like ages. When I finally got out of the tube it was hard to sit up. I finally pulled myself together and went into the little changing area. But when I took my hospital gown off I saw that my chest was bright red, worse than if I had a horrible sun burn. And it wasn't going away. The skin felt hot to the touch. I quickly pulled my clothes back on and stumbled out into the waiting room. My Mom saw my face and immediately thought maybe I'd had an allergic reaction, because apparently my face was beat red too. No, Mom, I just freaked out in the MRI tube for the first time in my life.

I was kind of embarassed, but I didn't really care right then. I felt miserable and I didn't care if the world saw my cherry red face right then. Mom and I went out to the car and decided to head for home. About halfway there, once my stomach had calmed down, I realized just how hungry I was. Especially considering I'd only had one meal that day and it was seven hours before. Mom took me to Sweetwater to get some protein in my system. That seemed to help quite a bit; it gave me enough energy to stop by Target on the way home to pick up a few things.

I'm really glad we decided to go, because here's where the other extreme comes in. I walked into Target and immediately had to visit the little girl's room - I was still a bit woozy and my stomach was acting up again. While I was there, though, I remembered how about two weeks ago I went to Target and asked if they'd like to donate a few items to be sent to some troops in Afghanistan. My friend Myles has a friend there who's extremely bored, because no one in his platoon has anything to do during their downtime. I felt horrible for this men and women, serving such a rough area, dealing with so much hardship, and not having any way to release, to escape, to just get away from it mentally and emotionally for a while.

So I decided they needed some XBox games, or board games, or CDs, or DVDs, or something. I went to Target on a Friday as my Good Friday Join Me deed. Target's manager seemed quite keen, but said legally they couldn't donate because I couldn't provide them with a tax ID to show that I was legitimate and, more importantly, tax deductible. They said to come back as soon as I had a number and they'd be happy to help. I wasn't too bothered because, after all, some time in the next month The Daily Prophet should have a tax ID of its own, and that'd be a suitable cause to associate with the DP.

But while at the hospital today, Mom went and talked to the Red Cross office. According to the Red Cross, all I needed to tell Target was that I was sending it to the troops through the Red Cross and it'd be okay. So, as I rested myself in the bathroom, trying to calm my nerves again, I was struck with the impression that I needed to go talk to the manager about this *now*. It couldn't wait until I felt better, it couldn't wait until I looked more decent, it had to happen now.

I've learned from my experience with the WWII Memorial application - I'm not denying my gut anymore. I went straight to the Guest Services desk, asked to talk to the manager, and explained what I wanted to do and what the Red Cross had told my Mother. The manager really wanted to help, but wasn't sure what to do. She took down my address so that she could talk to one of the other managers about how we could make this happen, then she went off for a minute to get her business card for me.

That's when a lady tapped me on the shoulder. She was returning something at the guest service desk and heard everything I'd said to the manager. She explained that she heard that Target just donated over $1 million worth of stuff to the Red Cross, but that was for disaster relief. I responded by saying that yeah, Target's great like that, and I thought they might like to participate in my idea too. That's when she asked what Red Cross office I'd talked to. I told her, and she smiled, "Ooh, the Aafees office. You see, I work for the Red Cross at the headquarters in DC."

Okay, hold the phone, what are the odds of *that*?! Only one other person at the Guest Service desk, it's 8:30 at night, and she works at Red Cross HQ! She leaned over and whispered to me, "I was at that meeting with Target this morning - I can get you the tax ID number you need." She pulled out her wallet, gave me her business card, and told me to email her and she'd get it to me as soon as possible.

Just then, the manager came back, I told her that I'd have the tax ID number by the end of the week, and she said, "Great! Just bring it back then and we'll work out the details." How cool is this?! The timing seriously couldn't have been better. What if I hadn't listened to that instinct? What if I had gone off to look at the clearance racks like I had planned to? I would have missed this remarkable opportunity, and those soldiers in Afghanistan might not have gotten their games. I'm really thrilled. I was bouncing by the time I came out of Target, despite the fact I still felt like crap physically. But emotionally, I was on cloud nine. Psh, forget that, cloud nineteen!

So now I'm wondering if I can't get more stuff for even more soldiers. This is only one platoon I know about, but surely there must be others that are bored to tears and need a way to escape emotionally for a while. That's why I'm posting this really, really important request:

Do you know any soldiers from any allied country serving in Afghanistan or Iraq?

If so, please email me immediately. The Red Cross told me that I can't just send packages to platoons, I have to have specific names for individual soldiers in order for the packages to be accepted. Target seems really keen to donate stuff, and I'm sure I could get other area Targets to do the same. Maybe even Best Buy or other stores like that. I want to see just how much stuff I can collect, and then send it out to as many soldiers and units as possible.

The way it works is, if we have a specific contact with an individual soldier in a platoon or unit, we can address the box in such a way that shows the box is really for every soldier in the unit. It's just an extra measure of security for the military, so it really makes sense, but I want to send out as much as I can. If you can help in any way, please email me and I'll try to send some toys, games, books, whatever I can get, to your friends, sons, siblings - anyone you know that's serving in Afghanistan or Iraq.

Isn't this exciting? I'm so glad this is working out! I seriously think this is important stuff - for a coincidence like that to have happened, to have ended up standing next to a top official from the Red Cross like that, that's no coincidence. This started out just as a way to send one soldier something to keep him occupied, but now I think I can do more. Anyway, email me if you can help. I'd really appreciate it. :) Also, if you have any ideas about how I can raise money to ship all this stuff, I'd be grateful for that too. Or, heck, if you have some old DVDs, movies, CDs, books, XBox games, or Ps2 games you wouldn't mind parting with, you could go ahead and mail them to me if you like:
The Daily Prophet PO Box 3114 Sterling, VA 20167-3114

It's all for a good cause. Regardless of your political views of the war, these young men and women are risking their lives for us, and for perfect strangers in a foreign land. I've seen so many soldiers at Walter Reed, back from Iraq and Afghanistan. They've given up so much. Today I saw at least five different twenty-something year old men, missing their legs, their arms. I've been dying to do something for them, and I think this is it. I can do something for the men and women still there. Then maybe I'll come up with something to do for the amputees later. Every time I see an amputee there I feel like throwing my arms around them, then pulling off my shoe, and saying, "See? You're not alone." I know it's stupid - a toe just doesn't compare to that - but it's something, I guess.

But now my happy mixed up self needs to get into bed. I have to go to the dentist tomorrow to have my wisdom teeth checked. I think I'm going to have to have them taken out. I'm not looking forward to that at all. But hey, maybe if I have a really stinky doctor visit day tomorrow, something else really good will happen! Wish me luck. :)

A Great Honor

Things are definitely looking up for me! Several weeks ago I sent in an application to be evaluated for the coveted job of volunteering for the dedication of the National World War II Memorial here in Washington, DC. I decided I wanted to volunteer after seeing the construction of the memorial underway while I was downtown with Cameron. My first thought upon seeing the half-completed structure was, "I need to be involved." Yet, with all the activities involved in hanging around with Cameron, I soon forgot about my plans to investigate the festivities surrounding its dedication. Then, about one week later, I was walking to my bedroom, intending to go to sleep, when the thought struck me again, "I need to be involved."

Not one to ignore repeated subconscious messages, instead of going directly to bed I turned to my computer, signed online, and found the website for the memorial. Sure enough, I had just enough time before the deadline to fill out my application to volunteer and fax it in. I was thrilled! Apparently my subconscious has very good timing. I faxed my application in the very next day and eagerly waited to hear back. They said that they were getting lots of applications, and that they couldn't accept everybody. Applicants had to have credentials and such to fit the available positions. I was feeling rather nervous and inadequate, but I faxed it in nonetheless. Surely my subconscious had plans that I didn't know about; with timing like that, you can't ask questions, you just do as you're told.

I owe my subconscious a cookie - my application was accepted!!! I'm really, *really* excited!! I can't wait for the big orientation meeting where I'll be given my assignment. There are apparently a lot of different dedication events and ceremonies, even one at one of my all-time favorite DC buildings - the Washington National Cathedral. Apparently the President's going to attend that one! (Well, honestly, I bet he's going to attend a lot of the dedication events, that's just the only one I know of for certain that he's going to be at.) On my application I was sure to mention my experience volunteering in nursing homes and working with the elderly. There are going to be lots of veterans there and the site said they need a lot of help ushering the old people around and pushing wheelchairs and such. I'd love to do that, but honestly, I don't care what they have me do, so long as I'm there and I'm involved. It's going to be a really historic event and here I am, right in the middle of it all. Yay! It just can't get any better than this.

Apparently all of the volunteers are going to get a nifty golf shirt, a baseball hat, and a "shoulder tote", all with the insignia of the memorial staff. Only the volunteers will get this stuff, so I'm psyched about that too. I really hope they let me take pictures, I want to document all of this and make a lovely little section of the blog all about it. Hooray!

Can you tell I've missed my blog? It was down for, what, three days? Even though I've gone that long without blogging before, it felt different knowing the blog wasn't actually here. That no one was reading it. It bothered me, I couldn't stop thinking about it. As I was sitting in the shower the other day (where all my best thoughts and revelations come to me), I finally realized why I love blogging so much. It's not about how many people read it, or even if other people read it at all when you get right down to it.
The truth is, it's a balm for my greatest phobia. My greatest fear has always been losing my mind, forgetting who I am, never being able to remember what my life is all about. I used to have a very specific memory, I could recall distinct conversations from back when I was only a toddler and my brothers played with me, or when my brother Tim taught me how to tie my shoes. But ever since I had that brain infection, I've been forgetting things. My memory isn't as good anymore. I can't remember exactly what I talked about with whom only a week ago. Heck, sometimes I can't even remember who I told what as recent as yesterday. That used to really scare me. It still does in some ways, but my blog alleviates most of that fear. It allows me to deposit most of my important memories in a safe place. Every blog entry on here just about is saved in two places - both online and in a massive word document (so far, two years of blogging text equals well over 15mb). Here on my blog, I can write about things that - from the outside - may seem somewhat impersonal or vague at times. But I leave clues for myself, little triggers to remind me of larger events, so that several years down the road when I read back through what I've written, memories resurface. It's like having my own secret code or language, and yet at the same time, that code is still readable - but most of the time unbreakable - to everyone else. In short, this blog is a readable, storable, searchable extra brain. It's my own memory bank.

And I love it. I'm so glad I was exposed to blogging all those many years ago. I've been blogging for two and a half years now, leaving me with nearly day-to-day accounts of my life, my friends, my family, my activities; everything I love and never want to forget. Of course, there are some things in this blog that at times I would like to forget, but in the end, both the good and the bad make up who I am today. And to forget how I got here is to erase the joy of the journey, and in effect, erase who I am. Hence why I've always been so afraid of losing my mind. That's also the reason that whenever I see someone like Ronald Reagan or Rita Hayworth, I'm reduced to tears. For Ronald Reagan to have lived such an amazingly varied and full life, and never to have written his memories down, imagine how much we've lost. Everything we could have learned from him is gone. Whether you agree with the man's politics or not is beside the point, we still could all learn from the events of his life.
With Rita Hayworth, I feel a strange connection with her. I had always thought she was fascinating, but it wasn't until a few months ago when I saw a documentary of her life that I realized there were so many similarities between her and I. What we wanted out of life, how we were perceived in certain situations. And then for her to have lost her mind due to Alzheimer's at such a young age, it's devastating. She was only in her forties when she started to forget. She never recorded her life either. Sure, there are people who knew her. Sure, we have a history of her career. But we didn't get to hear it from her. We never saw the private side, the private inner perceptions, the life lessons learned.

I've felt strange connections like this one I have with Rita Hayworth before. My Uncle Bud is missing four of his fingers due to a work-related accident. For as long as I can remember, his hand has always been that way. I remember when I was young, around four or so, we all gathered at my Grandmother's house for Christmas. There I was with Uncle Bud and I was fascinated with his hand. It made me slightly uncomfortable, I was afraid to touch it, until I came to realize that I shouldn't be frightened, that I shouldn't let it bother me. "After all," I thought to myself, "something like that may happen to me some day," and I'd have to deal with it just as Uncle Bud had to deal with his amputation. Sure enough, twelve years later, I had to go through my own amputation process. Even though the circumstances were different, the end result was almost the same. Although, I think my end result was easier to deal with. I can hide mine in a shoe; Uncle Bud never could hide his injury.

I'm coping with my phobia, and I think my blog plays a large part in that. I'm documenting my life for my own sake and for the sake of my future family. I intend to keep it. Some people ask me why I don't just keep a regular journal. It's not the same for some reason. First off, there's the perk of being able to search through the blog for specific entries. You can't really do that with paper as expeditiously as you can with a computer. But more than that, I like the feedback, I like the fact that my memories then become someone else's memories in a way, so it keeps it going. It keeps my memories alive in more than one way. I appreciate knowing that something that has influenced me or touched me or helped me, can then turn around and do the same for someone else. After blogging, personal journaling seems somehow selfish to me. I understand it for highly personal things, but for every day joys, why not share it? I just love blogging, and I don't think I could ever truly give this up.

Puppies = Positivity

I slept in yesterday after being awake until 5:30 in the morning. My sleep schedule is incredibly messed up thanks to the stress I've been under lately. Because of that, I went to the doctor yesterday to get something to take care of that and get me back on track. I explained everything that's happened over the past week or so and she was very sympathetic. She gave me some medication to calm me down. Naturally, I forgot to take it last night, so I ended up staying awake until 4:00am. Whoops.

After driving all the way into Arlington to go to the doctor, Mom and I decided we needed to do something fun. On the way back home we stopped at Sweetwater Tavern in Merrifield for some happy juice (aka root beer). I was really hungry because I hadn't felt well enough to eat breakfast. I managed to eat two thirds of that massive cheeseburger and left with a full stomach, a happier disposition, and an even greater appreciation for the wonders of root beer. You know, I really think that stuff may be the cure to the common cold - I had a really sore throat yesterday, and after two glasses of root beer, my throat didn't feel quite so scratchy! :)

Root beer aside, I still wanted some cheering up. I made a comment once we were back in the car that I'd been wanting to play with a puppy for a while, and that there should be some kind of place where worried teenagers could go and play with puppies for a while. After all, there are dog therapy organizations for toddlers and old people, so why are teenagers left out? I'd imagine a nice cuddle with a furry little puppy would do wonders for teenage angst.
Mom said that she knew of a place where I could go play with some puppies. Apparently there's a pet store in Reston that actually has a bunch of different animals. I was excited about this for two reasons; first, in the day and age of chain pet stores a la PetSmart, it's rare to find a small pet store that actually has animals larger than a guinea pig. Second, puppies! Mom agreed to drive me there because it was sort of on the way home, but not really, but she agreed a puppy might make me happy.

Once the car was parked safely in the parking lot, I felt thoroughly like a child, and in order to fully embrace the moment, I skipped (literally) across the parking lot in order to join the other children who had their faces pressed against the glass, adoring the puppies. It was great! They had little yorkie terriers, long-haired dachshunds, jack russels, and *gasp* huskies! I was in puppy heaven. I went right inside and asked to hold a girl husky, but unfortunately all of those were sleeping. Instead they pulled a jack russel out of its cage for me and I played with that one for a while. In true form, it was incredibly wiry, hyper, and skiddish looking. She was good fun, though. But eventually, my Mom called to me and said the huskies were awake!

The jack russel was put back in its cage and I was handed a very chubby boy husky. He was dark black all over except for little white paws, and white marks on his face that were perfectly symmetrical. He even had two white patches above his eyes that made him look like he had Groucho Marx eyebrows. But you want to know the best thing about him? He was cuddly. I set him down on the floor and he wandered around for all of a minute, then came right back to me, sat down with his body against my legs, and looked up at me. I cuddled with him for a while but eventually his cuteness attracted two young girls who wanted to play with him too. The girls and I petted that dog until I thought for certain he'd had enough. They mashed on him, hugged on him, loved him to the point of smothering, and he still just sat there patiently.

I want a dog like that. That's the downside to puppy therapy - now I really, really want a dog. And that's just not going to happen any time soon. But especially now I want a big, burly dog. It'd be a walking, barking alarm system and body guard. I think a husky would be perfect for that, don't you? :)

After puppy therapy, Mom and I had to come home to get ready for my brother Kevin's birthday party. A friend of mine - the Texan - joined us for dinner, cake, and presents. It was a nice party. Kevin showed us pictures from his various trips to France and Texas, but eventually Kevin and his family had to go home because it was past Max's bedtime. The Texan stayed to play Settlers of Catan with my brother, my Dad, and I. I'm seriously addicted to that game. Actually, it's time to end this blog, because my Mom just asked me if I want to play it again. Tomorrow I think I'll head back out to the puppy place, get my puppy fix, and then I should be good to go for the rest of the week. :)

Late Night Pointlessness

You're Babar the King!
by Jean de Brunhoff
Though your life has been filled with struggle and sadness of late, you're personally doing quite well for yourself. All this success brings responsibility, though, and should not be taken lightly. Life has turned from war to peace, from damage to reconstruction, and this brings a bright new hope for everyone you know. These hopeful people look to you for guidance, and your best advice to them is to watch out for snakes. You're quite fond of the name "Celeste".
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Time Bandits

I’ve had a lot of free time lately. I haven’t been sleeping well, staying awake until around four in the morning. I’ve been fairly productive, though, so that’s one good thing that’s come out of it. I finished up a huge portion of the proposal for Prophet Incorporated. I, um… watched a lot of television. :)

This evening in particular I watched an hour-long special from the 1950’s that I happened to spot in the listings as I scanned TCM’s programming schedule. It was called, ‘Hollywood My Home Town’, and it was just a solid hour of some guy’s home movies from Hollywood from 1920 through 1950. The ‘some guy’ had a variety of some sort at the time, but for the life of me I don’t know who he was. Regardless of this, he took some incredible home movies. He just showed up in Hollywood one day in the 1920’s, and started shooting clips of famous movie stars like Gloria Swanson, Errol Flynn, the Fairbanks, Charlie Chaplin, the whole lot. Later on, he went on vacations with the likes of Glenn Ford and Bob Hope. It was interesting to see all these old, candid clips of people I’ve seen in dozens upon dozens of classic movies. I especially liked the clips from the World War II era, where he showed Glenn Ford polishing his boots along with the other officers, and John Powers as a drill sergeant. Another interesting series of shots was a charity baseball game, with Frank Sinatra serving as one of team’s captain, and Mickey Rooney ran three bases after hitting a bunt. Although, the highlight of that bit was seeing Frankenstein as the umpire.

Even though that show ended around 2:00am, I still couldn’t sleep. Thank goodness I had previously Tivo’d a special on PBS all about Peggy Lee. Gotta dig those 60’s bouffants. That woman definitely had an amazing voice. The first song I heard of hers was ‘Fever’, and I’ve loved her music ever since. I learned a lot about her from watching that show – turns out she also wrote one of my favorite songs of all time, “It’s a Good Day”. And there I was thinking Perry Como wrote it. I should have known better! :)

The ultimate trip back in time, though, happened earlier today. I went to visit my mechanic because I saw a beautiful 1962 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud sitting in his parking lot the other day, and I just had to drive it. He told me if I came by today he’d charge up the battery and let me take it out for a spin. I was thrilled with the opportunity – a mammoth right-hand-drive Rolls, ready and waiting for me to drive it. I showed up at his shop just a little past noon, he went right out to charge it, and sure enough with only one jolt that darling stylish old car started right up. My Mom and I went for a drive and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was such an amazing feeling to go charging up the road in such a striking, different automobile. Unfortunately the owner of the Rolls didn’t like my idea of her donating the car to Prophet Incorporated. Now that I’m all tax deductible she could have written off the full worth of the car, but she didn’t need that kind of a tax break. *sigh* I really wanted that Rolls. Totally impractical, but oh so much fun. It’d be a hilarious statement, and a great way to raise money for the Daily Prophet. But alas, it was not meant to be.

Now it appears to be 4:20 in the morning and I still don’t feel like I can sleep. I think I’m going to try it anyway. Wish me luck, I think I’ll need it.

Hulk Smash!

Arrrgh. Ever since Thursday my life has been nothing but sucky, and it just keeps getting worse. I'm so frustrated, angry, and irritated right now that I swear I could hit something. Or someone. Especially someone.

But anyway. I really wish that right now I could turn green, get really big, and go running around the desert and leaping over the grand canyon. That could really ease a lot of tension at the moment. So what happened? First there was the flamer, and that got really ugly. But I won't go into details. Suffice it to say, it's done with, but the flamer goes to my church so that's going to be awkward. Especially since that's one more person at church I have to avoid. Before it was just those idiots who ignored me, mocked me for being a home-schooler, or rolled their eyes at me for being different. I don't get it, so I'm a capitalist, they wouldn't know it if it weren't for the fact that I like to wear nice clothes. So maybe from looking at me they think I'm a snob, but you know what? If they'd actually quit looking down their noses at me and talk to me, they'd realize that the only reason I wear Ralph Lauren is because I spend about $30 per dress. If they'd talk to me, they could be wearing Ralph Lauren too, but nooOOoo, because they're jealous dipwads they're still all high and mighty in their Old Navy. (Which, ironically, they must have paid more than $50 for, considering all the accessories and such.)

So now I have to avoid the Abercrombie Brigade, the Old Navy Platoon, and now the flamers. Suffice it to say, I'm switching wards. I just can't take it anymore. There's no reason why I should put up with that crap, especially not at church.

But you know what really ticks me off? Fate had to add icing to its horrific cake of meanness. I got a pointless speeding ticket today. It's so pointless that there isn't even any way the cop could have radar-ed me, he was too far away AND behind a hill and a big stone wall. There is NO way he could have possibly seen how fast I was going. And furthermore, there was no visible speed limit sign, AND I was going far slower than the rest of traffic because I was really lost. But apparently Mister Super Cop Who Can Radar Through Earth and Walls says I was going 38mph in a 25mph zone, despite the fact that I was slowing down to come to a stop at the red light. Hmm, interesting.

So now The Hulk has to go to court in May and I'm really mad. I've never been pulled over before, and I really don't want this on my record. But with my luck, I'll be sentenced to three years in traffic school for that stupid fake speeding ticket. ARGH! HULK SMASH!

Seriously, I haven't been this angry in ages. If it had just been the speeding ticket I would have been fine, but it's just that so much crap has happened in such a short time. Oh, and you know what makes the speeding ticket worse? I was driving my Mom to go to a crap car dealership I didn't even want to go to and felt bad about going to, all because my Dad wanted us to look at some BMW for sale. But come on, are you really going to trust a small used car dealership called, "Maximum Deals", which specializes in financing? I really felt icky about going and I didn't want to. It was 45 minutes away, I knew it was going to suck, and I got a speeding ticket along the way, all cause I was doing something nice for my Dad.

Sure enough, when we got to "Maximum Deals", I was exactly right. The car was a piece of crap. It had been smoked in heavily, the engine was a wreck, it had obviously been in an accident, and worse yet, the trunk smelled like it had been flooded out. Yes, that was a great deal, and totally worth the speeding ticket too!

Again, HULK SMASH!

*sigh* The sad thing is, there are still at least two really nice people that I like in my current ward, the one with the Abercrombie Brigade. One of those guys is trying to convince me not to leave, but I just can't stand wanting to cry every time I go to church. It's just... everybody's such an imbecile there. So childish, so unwilling to accept anyone outside their miniscule comfort zone, so easily intimidated by someone who seems mature and confident. It just reinforces my belief that the vast majority of 20-somethings are really far too full of themselves and need to get over the fact that yes, they're young, yes most of you are nice looking, but you know what? Shallow egotism really isn't attractive. In fact, it's sickening. It's like that comedian says, "Just strike a pose and shut the heck up."

Yes, I'm ranting, and no, I'm not sorry. :)

But I think I'm done ranting for now, because I bought myself a brownie at Wegman's today and dang it, I deserve to eat it right now. Raspberries and chocolate, here I come!

The Tiffany's Game has a New Ring

Is it just me, or is 'The Ring' one of the stupidest, most hyped up pointless movies out there? I watched that last night with a group of friends. We did the whole Horror Movie night - turned the lights off, waited until it was late, and started the movie. Thankfully all of them had seen it before, so I didn't feel quite as guilty about bursting out in giggles throughout the film. It was just so cliche, expected, and kind of slow.

Of course, it may be might fault; I'm not sure I was really in the mood for it. I was pretty well ticked off at the time. But let's not get into that... Anyway, I was really expecting it to be good, because the people who were there kept comparing notes on the film, saying how much it gave them the heebies. I've heard that from lots of people, but honestly, I just didn't see it. The director stole tons of tricks from Hitchcock, and it was so blaringly obvious that it distracted me from the movie. You just knew when someone was going to die long before it happened, based on the mock-Hitchcock camera angles. Like when Amber Tamblyn is running up the stairs in the beginning of the film, and the camera cuts to focus on her feet frantically going up the stairs. Come on now!

And then the whole video thing. It didn't frighten me because it almost seemed like it was trying too hard. It didn't look real, and yet it didn't look nightmarish either. It just looked, exactly as that dude in the movie said, like a bad student film. But maybe that's a matter of how my brain is wired. I think my nightmares are more in tune with Tim Burton rather than Gore Verbinski; just real enough to be familiar, but extended, manipulated, darkened, and unearthly.

Nightmares do play a role in my expectations of the film, I suppose. Two nights before watching 'The Ring', I had a dream so disturbing and frightening that when I woke up my heart was pounding and I had to make sure that I was truly awake before I could calm down. All I'll say is that it involved a whole lot of snakes, mangled faces, and a lake. You work it out, cause I don't want to think about it.

Because of dreams like that, shaky black and white with a hint of sepiatone videos really don't give me the heebies. It's almost like at the end of that famous twilight zone episode about the gremlin on the wing; "Yeah, you wanna see something really scary?" Cause baby, that was nothing compared to what I've got in my head all on my own. Sure, that sounds really bad, but still. (That's why I don't watch R rated movies - my mind is already messed up, I don't need anyone else's help, thank you.) I think that explains why I found The Ring so comical. It was so tame. I felt like it was settling for the gross-out style, rather than any actual meat to the story. It was so slow, and then all of sudden, "BAM! Surprise, this all makes sense now! The end!" Just didn't work for me.

The night was redeemed, however, when two of the guys stuck around to watch a few more things. We noticed that 'Army of Darkness' was going to be on in a little while, so we opted for a break of kitsch classics - we watched two episodes of the original 'Batman', intermixed with flipping to 'Johnny Bravo' and some college basketball. It was great! After that, we just had a few more minutes so we watched the very end of 'Halloween 4'. I think those movies are forever lost to me, all because the villain's name is Michael Myers. Every time I hear that in one of those movies, I can't help but think, "Like buhttah!"

'Army of Darkness', however, was the crowning event of the evening for me. It was really late at night, one of the guys there - The Texan - had never seen it before. But the other guy and I had obviously seen it way too many times, because we knew where every classic quoteable line was and started into fits of giggles whenever it came time for something like, 'Hail to the King, baby.' Ah, fun fun fun!

Anyway. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned what I did on Thursday. Two guys and I set off for the car dealerships in order to play the Tiffany's Game. Our first stop was, naturally, the BMW dealership. We drove a new 545i, a 3.0l Z4, and an M3. I really, really love the new 5. It is simply to die for. Like buhttah, even. :) The Z4, as always, was a pleasure. One guy in particular loved that car, and as we drove down the road at 80mph, he'd occasionally just burst into fits of joyous laughter. It was hilarious. The grin on his face throughout the test drive is really a testament to BMW; they know how to have a nice clean good time... at 100mph. I didn't get to drive the M3 - we got it in a manual transmission because I thought that's what both of the guys wanted. Turns out only one of the guys wanted to drive a manual, but oh well. I felt kind of bad for the other guy, but he seemed okay about it.

After that we went over to the Ferrari & Maserati dealership and I got to see Todd again. He was very nice - took us out for a ride in a Maserati, showed us around the mechanics shop in the back, let me sit in a bunch of different Maseratis. It was great! Turns out Todd designs all the color combinations for the Maseratis they order in the show room. That man is an absolute genius. He designed on Maserati that was silver on the outside, then had beige and deep gray leather on the inside. That sounded strange to me at first, but believe me, it's drop dead gorgeous. So unexpectedly wonderful, and yet it just goes so well. I wonder what Todd's house looks like, I bet his color schemes are to die for.

So that's my weekend. Today I'll probably go to Nordie's and have a facial done. But as for right now, I think I'll go grab a bagel and see what's on TV. It's time to relax and cool down, I think. Still woke up a bit ticked, but I'll recover.

The First Annual Root Beer Marathon

The last time I wrote a blog entry - Monday the 8th - I had a few spare minutes before a long-time friend of my family came by to visit. Her name is Elise, I've known her since I was about two years old. She and my Mother used to go out all the time back when we lived in Northern Virginia for the first time. Elise has always been one of those women who will always, always look young. She's only 4'11", has really curly brown hair, and is just plain cute. She's almost the same age as my mother, and yet everyone automatically assumes that she's my Mother's daughter.

Elise was coming to visit on Monday to compare hair. My Mother had told her about my adventures having my hair cut by Elie, and Elise wanted to know what this amazing new curl-o-riffic hair cut looked like. She stopped by the house around 1:10pm, about five minutes after I finished up the short blog and signed off. We talked about the trials of having naturally curly hair; the frizz, the tangles, the unruly nature of it all. But just as she was about to leave, it came up that neither of us had eaten lunch yet. She asked what I was planning to do with the rest of my afternoon, and I said that since I had the whole day to myself, I was thinking about treating myself to some lunch. I decided I deserved it, after that not so pleasant morning being stuck with a bunch of needles by the acupuncturist. She exclaimed, "I haven't had lunch either! Let's go together!"

So out the door we went to Sweetwater - I was on a mission to get some post-bad-day root beer, and Elise was game to try it. The meal was fantastic - to die for - and everything was perfect. We had a great conversation, all while I kept having private flashbacks of the days when I was still a toddler, ordering my own lunch for the first time, while Elise and my Mom giggled at my tenacity. Elise's daughter, Holly, would have been sitting in her high chair, as she was a bit younger than I. But me, I was a big girl, I could sit on my booster seat and tell the waiter exactly what I wanted, and how I wanted it prepared. It's interesting to be 19 now, sitting down at a nice restaurant with Elise again, and contemplating the massive changes that have come about in the past 16 years. For one thing, I don't need that booster seat anymore. :)

After we ate, Elise had to run off to go pick up Holly from high school - I feel old, I remember when she was still really teeny - and I had to go back home to... do whatever. I had chores to do, sure, so I'd keep myself occupied with that. The next pressing appointment of my day was at 7:30 that evening - a church activity for the young single adults (myself included.) A volleyball game was scheduled to be that night's activity, so I wasn't too keen. But I decided to go anyway, participate in the social part of the night, and then go off by myself to take care of redecorating a few bulletin boards in the church. Well, I got bored of being lonely, and the redecorating didn't go as I had planned. I was miffed at the purple fabric I was messing about with, so I ditched it in favor of talking to cute boys. Seriously, wouldn't you? Well, if you're a girl you would. Or whatever. You know what I mean!

Talking to cute boys was both fun and entertaining, in more ways than I expected. I ended up talking to a guy, a nice new Texan, and a young man who's a waiter at Olive Garden. I knew I'd seen him somewhere before! Who would have guessed he's a Mormon? (Okay, I would, since when I was at Olive Garden last he came up to my Dad and thanked him for teaching a religion class a few months back. That made it pretty obvious he's one of the lot.) The waiter guy came up to me as I was talking to The Texan and told me that he had seen me walk into Sweetwater Tavern earlier that day. (No, he wasn't stalking me - Olive Garden is right next to Sweetwater.) We started mutually obsessing over the root beer, the ozzie rolls, and the oh so fantastic chocolate waffles. That's when The Texan pipes up, "We should go! This place sounds great!"

So we did. At 10:15 at night, The Texan and I headed out to my car on a mission to obtain root beer. That's when the other guy walked up to the car and said, "So where we goin?" He joined the party and off we went. There was only one hitch in the plan - the restaurant closed at 10:00pm. Whoops. But never fear, the bar was still open! How funny is that? Three Mormons, fresh from a church activity, head to a bar. Sounds like to the opening of some bad religious joke. Don't worry, I won't go there.

The three of us went up to the bar and set to work deciding what we wanted. The Texan and I got root beer, but for some unknown reason the other guy abstained and opted instead for a Shirley Temple. Ultimately - since the kitchen was mostly closed and wouldn't serve us entrees - we decided to split some Tex Mex Eggrolls and a Chocolate Waffle three ways. That was peachy with me; I was still rather full from lunch.

That's when the other bartender came over. Guess who it was. That's right! Bartender Dave! He did a double take when he realized who I was, then he said, "Wow, you look different flanked by two men!" He winked at me and went off to get us some root beers. The Texan, the other guy, and I had a nice time talking, eating, drinking, and generally laughing at the sheer strangeness of the evening. They promptly informed me that I would need to come to church armed on Sunday, because surely the other women would kill me for going out with two men at once. Personally, I think this is a highly efficient way of getting to know the men - two at once really speeds things up in the dating world. Of course, that's only if that night can be considered a date. Seriously, I'm really daft about this sort of thing. Is that hanging out? Is that a date? Argh, brain meltdown! I can't handle this, romantic crap needs to be painfully obvious before I'll pick up on it, otherwise I always just think, "Oh, isn't that man being nice?" And that's that. None of that girly, "Is he flirting with me, or isn't he? Oh, I wish he would, he's dreamy." Nope, none of that, just, "That was nice of him. Hey, look, I've got root beer!"

I don't really think that night counted as a date. In my own skewed train of thought, I figure that's more of One Of The Guys nights. Thank goodness I kept the belching in check. :)

Belching or no belching, Monday night was seriously a lot of fun, hanging around at the bar, drinking ourselves silly on root beer, and watching the end of a college basketball game. Finally around 11:00pm, I hugged The Texan and Rick good night and went home to explain to my Mother where I'd been and why the church activity kept me out so late. :-D

The next day I slept until I woke up, which happened to be around noon. Man I love being my own boss. Now if only I could get paid for this, then I'd be in heaven. But anyway, back to the marathon. Still in my pajamas, I hopped online and saw that Stephen was online as well. I sent him an IM saying, "Howdy!" and we got to talking. Eventually we decided we were both hungry, and that's when he said, "I've got a hankering for Sweetwater. ;)" That was all I needed to get me to hop in the car (thankfully, I wasn't in my pajamas - I had enough patience to get dressed at least), drive twenty minutes to a Sweetwater closer to Stephen's office, and chug down my third straight batch of root beer. It was great seeing Stephen again - he got his hair cut recently and, I have to say, the transformation was absolutely astounding. Steve, you should always keep your hair like that. You looked great, seriously.

I ate another lovely cheeseburger at Sweetwater, made myself sick on ozzies, and drank a few more root beers. Then, Stephen splurged and got a chocolate waffle for us to share. All of that meant I certainly wasn't hungry for dinner for a very, very long time.

The best part about the outing, though, was when Stephen and I decided that we needed to form The American Root Beer Farmers Association. I could create a website, write reviews of various brews, promote my favorite root beers, and maybe even get free root beer for life. If there's something as trivial as the American Dairy Farmers Association, surely I could start one for root beer too! Let the triviality begin!

I drove home from Centreville, beaming from the dedication and training I had exuded in preparation for what was soon becoming the First Annual Root Beer Farmers Association Root Beer Marathon. I was a champion, I knew it! :)

That afternoon I cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the bathrooms, even swiffered the floor, and all with a smile on my face. Seriously, with root beer, anything in life is possible, even making me enjoy cleaning. Imagine what I could accomplish if I could drink root beer while driving a Z4... I'd melt from the sheer happiness!

But I digress. After cleaning, I had thirty minutes to kill before I was scheduled to drive back up to the church building in order to meet The Texan and that new friend of mine who took me to see Hidalgo. I need to come up with a nickname for him, or just ask him if I can use his name on my blog. Anyway, I met up with them at the church in order to lead them back to my house where we were planning on hanging around, watching movies, and generally having a good time. The church was just a convenient meeting place, since we all knew where that was, and it happens to be only three minutes from my house.

So, we watched 'Psycho', then 'Eight Legged Freaks', then an episode of 'Malcolm in the Middle', all the while I was being way too nice and giving the guys back massages. I realize this now, of course, that I was being too nice, but I didn't notice this at the time. Why? Because I used to give my brothers back massages, especially Tim, so I don't think anything of it. I was just one of the guys, minus a few bits, having some fun and laughing at stupid gigantic spiders attacking a small town in Arizona. Oh well, at least it made the guys happy.

Around 9:00pm, though, I got kind of hungry. While I was reheating my leftovers from that afternoon's lunch with Steve, there was a knock at the door. The missionaries showed up! Hurrah, more guys! They came by to drop something off for my Mom, but we ended up planning a trip to Sweetwater for the following day. Yes! I was accomplishing my mission in true style! Five straight meals, nothing but Sweetwater! And it was entirely by happenstance! Life was good.

I ate my reheated cheeseburger in expectant bliss, knowing that the following day my brother and I would meet up with four missionaries for the grand finale in the first annual root beer marathon. After the other guys left around midnight, I went to sleep to dream pretty root beer dreams.

This morning, at the crack of 11:30, I woke up and got ready for the day. Steve (my brother, not the other Stephen) and I drove over to Sweetwater and met up with the four missionaries. Let me tell you, even though lunch was fabulous today, I think I’m due for a break from Sweetwater. With all the root beer I’ve had, chocolate waffles galore, and far too much delicious ground black angus beef, I need to go walk around the neighborhood about twenty times. :)

After the finale of the marathon, I celebrated by going shopping. I’ve decided to make myself a Join Me shirt so I can try to spread the news. Would you care to Join Me and Danny? Then go here, learn more, and send in your application – it’s free, and it’s all about making people happy. Just be sure to tell Danny you were referred by Silver Joinee Heather. Mmhmm, that’s right, I may be Silver now, but I’m vying for Gold. Join Me has been on my mind quite a bit lately, since I’ve been reading the recently released book all about the birth and growth of the collective. It’s good stuff. You should join too, that way we’ll all be in the collective together.

Okay, that sounds creepy. :) Honest, it’s just a bunch of semi-pointless silliness about making people happy by doing random acts of kindness on Fridays. That’s all.

This evening I had dinner at home with my family because Kevin came home from a long trip to France, and tomorrow is heading out to Austin, Texas. I’m jealous. Uh huh. After dinner, I got a phone call from a guy saying he wanted to hang out with me. I said sure, since I didn't really have anything else to do. He came over and we decided to watch Chicken Run because he’d never seen it. I had a nice evening; having someone to hang out with certainly makes a difference. But now it’s 3:00am, and after trying to get this blog written over the course of an hour and a half, I’m sufficiently tired. You see, my laptop has crashed a total of three times while writing this, but thankfully each time I was lucky enough to have saved what I’d written just before the laptop died. And after a short incident where G, H, and Backspace refused to work, I’ve finally been able to finish it. It’s going up now before this piece of crap decides to die again. *sigh* I need a new laptop…

In conclusion, this week has been great so far, and it looks as if it’s only going to get better. Tomorrow (technically today, since it’s past midnight), that guy and the new guy who took me to see Hidaldo and I are going to go test driving BMWs. Friday, The Texan and some other friends are coming over for some fun and games. Still no plans for Saturday, but hey, we’ll see what happens. :)

There's Just Too Much Living Going All Around

Holy crap it's been busy this past week. Let's see, what all did I do since last Monday? Wednesday I played tour guide for some lady missionaries from my church who wanted to go see the sights in Washington; Thursday, I don't remember, I'll get back to you on that one later; Friday, all day was wiled away as an extra in some random television commercial; Saturday, slept in until 1:00pm (on accident - I slept through my alarm) and was out all day and night until 1:30am; Sunday, church, activities, and family stuff.

See? I've had good reason not to blog, it's been non-stop all week.

I've just gotten back from another appointment with the Gap-Model Acupuncturist, who was in a very amiable mood today. When he saw the bruise on my belly from last week's visit, he started to laugh and said, "I'm going to put two more needles on your tummy, see if I can make a triangle bruise!" The two other needles did have some medicinal purpose (I hope), so I wasn't too bothered by his glee at the idea of "acupuncture tummy art".

Now that I finally have a few minutes to write a blog, I guess I should give you the highlights of the past week. I wish I could remember what I did on Thursday... OH! I went to the doctor, but let's not talk about that. There's a reason why I forgot, tee hee. Anyway. Wednesday was nice, but nothing too much to report from that, except that I'm a good driver - I got there in 35 minutes! If you know the area, you should be impressed by that.
Friday was nice, albeit boring. I signed up with this casting agency thing just to be an extra in some Disney TV pilot next week, but on Thursday they called me to see if I wanted to get paid $75 to sit around on Friday, listen to a string quartet, and be in some commercial. I thought that'd be an easy way to earn $75, so I did as I was told and got all dressed up in a nice suit and showed up at the Belmont Mansion in DC at around 9:30am. Let me tell you, extra work is really boring. Really, really boring. I met a few nice people, though, and I did get to listen to that string quartet. The highlight of the day, though, was when they asked me to stand in for the star of the commercial so they could test lighting. I went back to the set, sat in some lady's chair, and immediately the cameraman got all googly-eyed at me. I was wondering why the heck he was staring at me (other than to test the lights), and that's when he started in about my skin. He said, "I have to say, you have the most amazing skin I have ever seen. You look just like that... what'shername... that elf lady in Lord of the Rings." The woman sitting next to me chimed in, "Yeah, you mean, Liv Tyler?" "Yeah," he said, "That's the one! Lady Arwen! You look just like her, your skin's the exact same tone and it's so... so... perfect."
As if that didn't make me glow more already, that's when the assistant director came over and went, "Look at that glow under the lights, and how it goes with the hair. Very Liv Tyler."

That made the whole day almost worthwhile. Almost. That's the third time in the past few months that I've been compared to an elf in Lord of the Rings. Honestly, I think it's very flattering. After all, those elves are pretty, and their style has always been my favorite out of all the various cultures represented in the films. So, even though I don't think I look like Liv Tyler, it's still a lovely thought.

Saturday was exceptionally nice; much better than Friday. Like I said, I overslept, but I think I needed it. I lazed around for a while, then had to get ready to go to the wedding reception at 5:00pm. It was the wedding of Translating Drew's sister-in-law, who also happened to go to church with me. The wedding reception was lovely and very creatively decorated - there were goldfish in pretty square glass vases on each table, surrounded by orange rose petals and periwinkle blue beads. Seriously cute. Although, the highlight of the evening was catching the bouquet. :) I guess that means I'll be married in a year. Ha, yeah, that'll happen... I don't even have a boyfriend, for goodness sake.

After the reception I went to this church activity; my ward's Bishop is moving, so it was a farewell event for him. That was all well and good, went for a while, was pretty emotional, and came to a close around 10:00pm. But, having woken up at 1:00pm, I wasn't ready to end the day yet. I ended up walking out to the parking lot with a new friend of mine that I met at church a couple weeks before. We were talking then somehow we decided to go see a movie, despite the late hour. That was peachy with me, because I wasn't ready to go back home yet. We saw 'Hidalgo' at 10:35pm and it was loads of fun. That movie was absolutely gorgeous! Almost every shot was a work of art. The story was well-written, beautifully directed, and the performances were fantastic. The only downside: I really want to go horseback riding now. :)

Not much to report about Sunday, except that it was another Sunday. And now I have to run, my writing time has expired and I have things to do. I'll try to write more this week - I doubt I'll be as busy this week.

Mmm, Lidocaine...

Today was another visit to my acupuncturist down at Walter Reed in Washington. It's been two weeks in between visits this time, and I could really feel the difference. My headaches had come back, and although they certainly aren't as bad as they were before all this, they had returned and made things a bit more difficult over the past week. Nothing severe, mind, just a constant dull ache.

The acupuncturist was in as good a mood as ever, cheerily poking needles into me. There really wasn't anything spectacular to report for the first half of the appointment, and I was rather concerned that nothing new or exciting would happen. But that's when the doctor spun around in his chair and asked, just like an excited little boy waiting to ask Santa for a new Red Rider rifle, "Hey, do you want to try something new? I really think it will help your shoulders, it's half homeopathic, half western medicine. I can inject it into your shoulders, mixed 50/50 with some lidocaine, and it'll be great! So can we try it?"

I half expected him to get down on his knees, clasp his little hands, and beg me. It was really funny, but the humor ceased when I started to laugh and a searing pain in my forehead reminded me, "Hey, idiot, you've got six needles in your head, stop that!"

Eventually, his enthusiasm made me cave, especially when he promised that it would help my shoulders. See, I've always had incredibly tight, painful shoulder muscles. Massage would help temporarily, but nothing really seemed to do much for me. The acupuncturist explained that he would fill a syringe with half of this weirdo homeo-western medicine with half of the lidocaine, and he'd inject a bit of it in various places around my shoulders. So after the typical 25 or so needles in place for twenty minutes, he had me sit up, he'd poke around my shoulders until he found a spot that really hurt. And I mean really hurt. I ended up getting injections in about 8 different spots on each shoulder, and then five in my neck. It was tough, but no where near as bad as the last shoulder treatment he gave me.

After the treatment, my shoulders are significantly better. They're so loose, they don't hurt for a change, and it's great. It was definitely, *definitely* worth it.

The final surprise from the acupuncturist today was a round of blood tests, and thanks to my hidden veins, I had to get stuck twice, and both of which have since turned into major bruises. Worse than that, they did one on the under-side of my wrist and it hurts so badly! Whenever I move my left hand it aches and feels like my wrist is collapsing. I'm thinking maybe they hit a bad nerve or something.

This afternoon, after getting home around 1:30, I had to run errands all afternoon because my brother is sick, had classes to go to, and couldn't get a hold of any of his professors on the phone. So it was my job to run to the college campus, track down two professors, turn it a piece of artwork, and pick up an exam. I was happy to do it - Steve needed me to in order to save his GPA, and it was nice to go driving around, listening to No Doubt real loud, and going to Target to run through the clearance racks. I got myself a shirt because, much to my surprise, Target's carrying goofy t-shirts that used to be sold at Hot Topic! I found a nice blue girly-T with a monkey on it, and it says, "Smile, it confuses people!" It was great, especially for only $8.00! It made me happy.

After I finally got done running errands, it was almost time for a church activity. A bunch of Mormons got together to play some basketball. Normally I don't like the Monday night activity groups - I tried going a few months ago and didn't have much success. But now that some new people have moved in and I've gotten to know a few more people, it was actually lots of fun. I got to hang out with the nice American man tthat I met Friday night, and a friend of his that I met on Sunday. Naturally, there was more talk of cars as we played HORSE. I think I need to brush up on my basketball skills - I certainly wasn't as, erm, consistant as I had hoped I would be.

Around 9:30ish, about four people - including the two guys I played basketball with - came back to my house to watch a movie. Steven suggested 'UHF', so we all went along with that. It was fun, much better than what I had planned to do tonight. Which was, uh, nothing. :) I'm so glad I've met some nice people in the area. Lately I've really been missing my old buddy Mike, who has since gone off on a mission for our church in Italy. He's doing well, but it's kind of hard to have him over for a movie or just go driving when he's all the way on the other side of the ocean, you know? :)

You know what's kind of scary? About 250 people read my blog today. Who are all of you, anyway? Oh well, at least my stats are good. :) But seriously, who the crap are you people? Not that I mind, I'm just insanely curious. Come on, people, spill!

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

I've had a fabulous Sunday today, which is quite a welcome change from my typical boring, obnoxious, drawn-out, vengeful Sunday. I especially appreciated the change, as I hate spoiling a perfectly nice Sabbath. This Sunday in particular, church was actually rather nice. I was met by the nice young American man I had met on Friday night during the whole ice skating trip, and he kept me highly entertained throughout church. It's amazing the difference a smiling face can make in any situation, especially when you're forced to sit pleasantly in church for three hours, decked out and wearing pantyhose.

After church, I came home to find that my sister-in-law, Jen, and my nephew, Max, were visiting for the evening. Mom, Jen, and I played a new game - "Squint" - which I won by a margin of only one point. I was rather surprised, since I was rather distracted the whole time. It was fun, but then again, playing practically any game is fun with Jen around. She gets into the funniest fits of giggles over the smallest of things, and it's always infectious.

In the midst of the game, though, the nice young American man called to see if I wanted to go walking somewhere to enjoy the lovely day. How could I say no? He came by about an hour later and he took me to a beautiful patch of land that he used to call home about five or six years ago; 25 acres, a pond, a creek, and the most impressive kiddie fort I think I've ever seen in my life. Unfortunately, his old home has since been abandoned and is quite run down. The most intriguing thing is that the land is really in a prime location, with houses selling for, I'd guess, around $900,000 in the neighboring lot. I want to know why the owner hasn't sold and made herself a small fortune.

Either way, he entertained me with stories about his childhood as we walked around the hillsides around the house. I never would have guessed it, but his family owned horses and used to go riding all the time. I was really surprised by this, and also very keen: I've been dying to ride a horse in ages, and lately I've been soaking up any stories, movies, or fantasies about horseback riding. I'm now positively itching to find a saddle, slap it on a horse, and just ride until my poor body can't take it anymore.

After he left, I thought I'd sit down to a nice bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner, and watch a nice restful movie. But nope, the people just kept on coming. First was a friend of my parents, who stopped by to visit. Literally five minutes after he left, the Mormon missionaries showed up. :) Once they sat down and I knew they weren't just passing through, I couldn't wait anymore, I *had* to eat. So I pulled out a bowl, sat down at the table with them, and ate my cereal. I know the Elders well enough not to be bothered by eating in front of him all by myself. Besides, I wasn't being rude - I did offer some to them. Honest. We even had a charming conversation about the blessings of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, they just weren't hungry.

I did set up an appointment to have them over for dinner on Friday though. One Elder and I are in cahoots, trying to convince my Mom to let us all go to Sweetwater Tavern after dinner for some root beer and chocolate waffles. One of the elders has been to Sweetwater before, loved the root beer, but didn't know about the chocolate waffles. As a fellow chocoholic, he's eager to try one, and naturally, there's no way I deny the chance to go to Sweetwater.

Once all the company left and there weren't any further knocks on the door, I took myself downstairs, laid down on the couch, and proceeded to watch the Oscars. It was just about right for my mindset at that point; I was tired, but blissfully unaware of anything important going on. Thankfully the Oscars didn't kill my buzz, and I am quite happy to report that The Lord of the Rings won everything they were nominated for. You have no idea how happy that makes me, it just completes the lovely day I've had. I'm really happy for the people behind those movies, they deserved every award they received, and furthermore, I believe they deserved a few others that they weren't nominated for. In particular, it's a crime that Sean Astin wasn't honored for his performance as Sam, especially in Return of the King. He was responsible for nearly all of the scenes that moved me to tears. Secondly, Viggo Mortensen deserved a nod for his remarkable portrayal of Aragorn. And most importantly, I can't believe they got jipped out of a mention in the Cinematography category. The filming of that movie made it a moving work of art, which is what a motion picture should be.

But enough geeky obsession (I already worked all that out with one of the missionaries - we had a long talk about the random characters in Lord of the Rings and thoroughly weirded-out everyone around us.) I think I'd better get some sleep now because I actually have to wake up in the morning to go see my accupuncturist. Ergh, I'm not looking forward to it. My legs are all bruised up from ice skating, and I can't imagine how horrible that's going to feel sticking needles right into my black and blue bruises. Seriously, I have a bruise on my right shin that's bigger than a sand dollar, and a million and one shades of blue, purple, and green. It's oh so very lovely. So sweet dreams to me, sweet dreams to all those lovely Kiwis responsible for Lord of the Rings, and sweet dreams to all the nice new people I've met this weekend.