One down

I finished the first of many hats that I have committed to knitting for various folks nationwide (well, LA and NYC). Here is Joey's hat, as modeled by Joey himself.What a great shirt! The hat seems a little big, I know. I think I'll begin the decrease rows a little sooner for the next one. Here's the reverse side as modeled by me in my bathroom, as usual.I messed up the ribbing a little because I didn't trust the instructions. I followed the instructions exactly on the last two rows of ribbing and guess what? I'm an idiot and should have trusted them all along. Oh well--Design Element!

Joey was thrilled and this is how he repaid me.I'm a sucker for pretty flowers. How did he know these are my favorites? (pay no attention to all the boxes in my messy office)

Later I enjoyed a delicious lunch of mini cheesecakes from the lovely Silentia Jones, formerly of the Cheesecake Cafe (not Factory) which used to be in Rosemead. She's currently looking for a new location. I'll let you know when she's got one, because her Death By Chocolate and Snickers cheesecakes are not to be missed.

My duty is done

On Tuesday, when I was sworn in, the judge told us to be there at 10:45am, the trial would start at 11:00am and we'd be done by 2:00pm. She wasn't kidding. We were in the jury room at 2:00 and on the road by 2:40. That's not to say that we, the jury, rushed a decision. We gave it a good discussion and weighed the matter carefully. It was just a pretty obvious decision. So, that's it. Here's a look at the beautiful court house.

There was a metal detector that went off after every person, but the deputies just waved us through. I felt so secure. Actually, I felt sad. All the patients walking around seemed doped to the gills and were just shuffling up and down the halls. There was a woman with her husband, who was the patient, trying to have some privacy in a very non-private place. They strolled up and down the hall, the wife trying to be cheerful and failing, the husband looking vacant. At one point I saw her holding his hand and gazing lovingly into his blank stare and my heart broke for her. Did she see her husband the way he used to be? Was she willing him to break through the haze and really look at her? It was obvious how much she loved this man and I felt so sorry for her having to have this private moment in a crowded hallway with Sheriff's deputies and lawyers and other patients milling about. Mostly I left that day feeling very sad and thanking God for whatever tenuous hold on sanity he has granted me.

I came back to the office to check my email and do a few things, got home at 7:00pm and fell asleep. Sound asleep. I woke up briefly around 2am and washed my face, but then I was back in bed until 8:30am. So why am I still so tired?

Jury Duty--Cheap entertainment at its finest.

I got called to Jury Duty. Woo Hoo! I kind of like jury duty but I wasn't looking forward to this one because I have piles of work to do. But alas, I am not one of those who tries to ditch my civic duty, so I woke up at 6:30 and...WHAT? 6:30?! I have to be downtown by 7:30!! After the fastest shower ever, I hopped on the freeway and off to Disney Hall to park. I rushed over to the courthouse and made it only 10 minutes late. Until I realized I was at the wrong court. Rats. I rushed over to Civil Court, had an asthma attack, and sat down to listen to the spiel. The cast of characters were rich, especially OCD woman who kept rubbing her hands with hand sanitizer every five minutes. Chuck Taylor was on jury duty (and me wearing Keds. For Shame), as was Mr. Pacman. Oh, but folks, let me tell you about Mama's Boy and his Helicopter Mom.

Mama's Boy was easily mid-to-late 20's. His mom drove him to jury duty--and stayed with him. She told him when to take his paperwork up front. She detached his juror's badge and put it in the plastic holder. Then, as God is my witness, she attached it to his shirt for him. Mind you, Mama's Boy was physically able to do all of this by himself and did not appear to have a mental disability (which would preclude him from Jury anyway). Time went on and Helicopter Mom reminded him of a dentist appointment and to have the cable switched over to her and to go back to the salon and tell them he needs his haircut again because they didn't cut it short enough on Friday when he got it cut. He told him if he gets called before lunch to meet her back at the jury room, where she'll be waiting, and they'll go to lunch together. Then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.
Mom: I haven't seen you since Friday. You went out with (poor girl he's dating) and stayed at her place. I don't know why when you had to work the next day. What did you do on Friday?
Son: We went to dinner.
Mom: Where did you eat?
Son: Daily Grill.
Mom: Which one?
Son: Burbank.
Mom: Did you pay or did you go Dutch? [Dear God, woman, what's it to you?]
I don't know how she has the time to date between work and school and the gym.
Son: (mumble mumble)
Mom: She takes Internet classes too. That's what she told me. I know what happened. She went back and talk to her girlfriends. " Oh, he said he needs space. He just has cold feet." That's what girls think. (mumble mumble) She's a smart girl. If I were that smart when I was younger, you wouldn't be here. You hear me? You'd never have been born.

Yikes! Suddenly, I felt very sorry for Mama's Boy. But not for long. My attention shifted to a woman who was clearly not wanting to be on a jury. Lady Huffington flounced and huffed and generally made it known that she was unhappy. The supervisor announced that they were sending a group to a different court house and started calling names. When she called Lady Huffington's, she answered with a "(damn it) Yes!" The court they sent us to was the Mental Health court in Cypress Park or Glassell Park, I'm not sure where. It was a drive, but not too far and the directions were straightforward. Lady Huffington (and a few others) made a stink like it was in Orange County, for Gods sake. It was a strange little court house, but everyone seemed friendly and it was positively crawling with handsome deputies. So, the huffy one tells the bailiff that she needs to be excused and he says "sure, I'll tell the judge." We start getting called and she's still sitting there. She is making faces and it's clear she thinks she's privileged.

Jurors #2 and #4 lied--no, really. I heard them in the hall say what they did, and when they got inside, suddenly their jobs had changed to something that would excuse them. With them out of the way, Lady Huffington was called. She plopped into the seat in the jury box and the judge had had enough. "Look, we're all in the same boat. Let's try to have a positive attitude." Huffy explained that she had a migraine. The judge pretty much told her to take some pain medication and get over it. And just like that, I ended up on a trial. It's supposed to be over by tomorrow afternoon. Stay tuned for more.

Confessions of a Possible Somnambulist

So, It's Monday and I was visiting with Amber, discussing our weekends, wishing she was with me at Vons when I saw the woman in unfortunate Lycra pants that were not doing her any favors, when I mentioned that I woke up Sunday morning with a killer headache. I said, "It felt like I had been drinking all night Saturday, but I didn't have a drop of liquor. And I was ridiculously tired, too."

"Maybe you drink in your sleep," she replied. "You know, like those people who sleepwalk and eat in their sleep." I laughed it off and went about my day.

Then, I was talking to someone else about my tailbone. For the past couple of weeks, my tailbone has been killing me as if I fell on it hard, but I didn't fall--or did I?

I told Criss, my voice of reason, about Amber's assessment. She replied, "Laurie Ann! It was YOU who put the lipstick on the towel. You're totally sleepwalking!" I insisted that I don't own that shade of lipstick, but maybe I do? Maybe it's tucked away somewhere until my sleeping self pulls it out and gussies up for some sleep date. Come to think of it, there's a half empty bottle of wine in my fridge that I don't remember opening or drinking.

Now, wouldn't I know if I sleepwalk? I mean, don't sleep walkers wake up in odd places and stuff? I wake up in bed snuggled under the blankets. I have never been known to walk or talk in my sleep before. I've had roommates and shared a room with my sister for the first 16 years, so someone would have noticed by now. Do you think I could have suddenly developed this?

And what am I doing in my sleep that leaves me bruised and hungover?

Magic Monkey Number

The story that accompanied this headline is not nearly as entertaining as the headline itself. Or maybe it's just me. I've been saying Magic Monkey Number (with an accent, 'cause it's funnier) all day long.

So, yeah, the Frau thing is gross, but I think y'all are more disgusted than I was. I kind of shook my head and said, "oh that Frau." I guess she finally broke me. Jennifer, Gladys Kravitz's daughter, told me that Frau used her key and walked into their apartment without knocking one day, and when they confronted her she said, "I didn't think you were home, " as if that justified her actions. She had come to fix something "because I have time now." She didn't bother to call ahead of time. I've taken to leaving my, um, toys laying about and locking my bedroom door, just in case. I probably won't confront her, as Uccellina suggested--which, btw, I read as comfort and I was all, "why does she need comforting?"--because it's like talking to a wall. Remember the time she used my towels to mop up the leak and then left them in the tub? I gave her hell for that and she felt completely justified because "I needed something to mop up the water." No amount of telling her it was wrong changed her mind, and in fact, she went on to complain to all the other neighbors that I was a bitch for complaining. Same thing went she accused me of not paying my rent. No matter how many times I told her "the check is in the mailbox...just reach down inside," she insisted I hadn't paid and needed to pay a late fee. When she found the check in the box, she never apologized or anything. I could report her. I could make a stink. I could do a lot of things but I'm just don't have the energy to deal with her.

So, I've come to see Frau and the tribulations I encounter as just something I must patiently wait out until I can move, which I WILL be doing this year because I cannot stay here any longer. Wheels are turning, plans are in motion, moves will be made.

Golly, then what will I have to talk about? I'll lose have my readers if there are no Frau stories.

Frau would be an awful burglar

I do not wear lipstick (I'm a gloss kind of gal), but if I did I certainly wouldn't wear this particular shade of pink.

Guess who does wear lipstick in this particular shade of pink and who apparently likes to kiss my hand towels when I'm not home? I'll give you a hint--she owns the place.

Reason #673 on Why I love my nephew Roy

This is his status on Gmail Chat:

Oh work, how you soak up every bit of my spirit and vigor, like those fancy paper towels I'm too cheap to buy, from the nestle of my soul.

Word.

But it's such a great idea!

I feel old. Well, no; that's not true. I feel sad that no one except the older folks at work knew what I was talking about. Oh, let me explain.

See, I'm knitting hats for several gentlemen at work. It started with Joey looking at the Son of Stitch 'n' Bitch book and asking for the double knit Celtic beanie. Then, while knitting and subsequently abandoning (temporarily) a hat for The Roy, Hong asked me to make one for him. Then, Christian came by and asked for one. Since I'm a sucker for the boys, I am a hat knitting fool these days.

Joey's hat is easy. I'm just knitting the hat from the book but in gray and navy blue. Hong has not given me his color scheme yet, but he wants the earflap hat that was on Knitty--the one with the waves. I may try to find a different earflap hat, though, because I'm not liking that pattern so much. Which leaves me with Christian's hat. The hat he saw when he asked me to make one for him was the earflap hat, but I really like the double knit hat. Then, since he's a DJ, I had a genius--no, GENIUS--idea. I'd use the double knit pattern but incorporate the chart from a sweater in the "Son of..." book (see below).
Since Christian asked for neutral colors, gray and black, I wanted to spice it up and make the "spider" in red on both sides. Being fairly new to double knitting, I made a test swatch to see if I could pull it off. See my swatch here:
I wanted to get some opinions before I committed this to hat, so I brought it to work and asked some folks, "Does this look like a 45 adapter to you?" I received blank stares all around, followed by "What's a 45 adapter?" and "It looks like a throwing star." Okay, it looks nothing like a throwing star. But seriously? No one knows what a 45 adapter is? Are we that far removed from vinyl that people in the 25-30 year range have no clue? It made me sad because I was really excited about this hat. Christian came in later today but I didn't ask for his opinion. It would have broken my heart if the DJ didn't know.

So, what's your opinion? Should I make this hat anyway? Or, would it be safe to assume that if six other people in his age range were clueless, he will be too. It's such a great idea, I hate to abandon it. (oh, and I notice that the person who made the sweater pictured above has altered the chart a little so I'll follow their chart. It fills out the spindles more.) What do you think?

I want to say one word to you. Just one word.

Plastics!

I went to Track 16 Gallery in Santa Monica to see the Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef exhibition that Ellen blogged about and to attend a workshop on how to crochet with plastic grocery bags. The sisters Wertheim were interesting to listen to but as a workshop I have to say it was a bust. Although we did learn how to turn the plastic bags into "yarn," much time was spent teaching newbies how to crochet the basics and we never got to the hyperbolic part. Ellen was there along with a few familiar faces, but I didn't get to talk to them much. It wasn't bad though; I spread the love by teaching two ladies (Jade and Mary) how to crochet and let them leave with two of my hooks with the promise that they not give up and keep practicing.

Afterward, I checked out the Harriet Zeitlin exhibit, notable for a creeptastic sail made from latex gloves, as well as a small collection of garbage from Kamilo Beach, Hawaii, by Captain Charles Moore, who was also speaking about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch and our polluted oceans and beaches. Kamilo Beach is labeled "the dirtiest beach in the world." The collection included bottle caps, toothbrushes, plastic hangers, umbrella handles (what? I know!), and of course, plastic bottles, some of which had shark bites out of them. There was also an albatross carcass that had died due to ingesting trash, but I didn't look too closely at it.

Check out this shop on Etsy, where I purchased reusable produce bags and tea bags. I gave two tea bags to my friend, Terry, who declared them "the best gift ever." I used my produce bags this weekend, and while the clerk was a little confused, I assured him he could just weigh them the same way he would the plastic produce bags and everything would be fine. This shop also sells a reusable organic cotton coffee filter, which if I still had a coffee pot, I'd totally buy.

So, all in all, this day has led me to a renewed effort to reduce my plastic use significantly, to recycle more diligently, and to spread the word so that everyone else can try to do the same.

What are you doing tonight?

Well, if you're anywhere near a television at 11:30pm, tune into the Late Show with David Letterman. Why? Because The Airborne Toxic Event will be the musical guests. As you may recall, the drummer for TATE is the handsome and talented Daren Taylor, a friend of mine from my movie theatre/ Tower days who once spent 9 months in my apartment putting up with my mood swings and still cheerfully singing "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots" and Postal Service songs upon request.

You owe it to yourselves to check out this band. Their self-titled CD on Major Domo Records is available, oh, just about everywhere including iTunes, which is where I got my copy.Lead singer Mikel Jollett (far right) has one of those voices that touches you somewhere deep inside and doesn't even buy you dinner or drinks first. The rest of the band (left to right from Daren) are Noah Harmon, Anna Bulbrook, and Steven Chen. Anna plays a killer violin and was very sweet to me when DT introduced us at El Cid a million years ago (okay, maybe two years ago;I can't remember 'cause I'm old). As Dave used to say, wake the kids, phone the neighbors--this a band to watch.

Not that I'm calling anyone a freak...

Oslowe posted the following over on his Live Journal:

Pay It Forward/Freebies for Freaks meme

The first five people who comment here will get something I make. Could be a real life thing, could be something dead. Depends on what I think you will like and my inspirations. (Note, it's going to be something I think you will like. Actual liking not guaranteed!) The only real rule is that you have to make this offer in your own journal.

Well, who can turn down an offer like that? I commented and, as per instructions, am making the same offer to you fine folks. Now, I guarantee the something I make will not be dead. However, I do not guarantee speediness of delivery. I'm up to my arse in hat orders for the boys at the office, although one of them went on tour, so his hat can wait. Comment away and I'll figure out a way to contact you later.

Seeds saved in Sussex! Superforest seeks success!

Handy bit of alliteration, eh?

Have you heard about the Millennium Seed Bank Project? It is an international conservation project coordinated by the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew, UK, and housed in the Wellcome Trust Millennium Building in Sussex committed to preserving seeds from endangered plant species worldwide. Why save seeds? I'll let them explain.

All life on earth depends on plants. Plants are the basis of ecosystems in which all animals, including humans, live, survive and grow. By saving seeds we can save plants.

Despite our reliance on plants, we are at a crisis point. It is thought that 60,000 to 100,000 plant species are under threat. Direct threats to plant survival are climate change, habitat loss, invasive alien species, and over-exploitation. The root causes of these threats are difficult to control and include human population growth and socio-economic factors.

Seed banks provide an insurance policy against the extinction of plants in the wild and provide options for their future use. They complement in situ conservation methods, which conserve plants and animals directly in the wild. The Millennium Seed Bank already holds seeds from species thought to be extinct in the wild. In addition, seed banks provide a controlled source of plant material for research, provide skills and knowledge that support wider plant conservation aims, and contribute to education and public awareness about plant conservation.

My friends over at Superforest have embraced this cause and started their own Save-A-Seed Coalition. Jackson and company are working to raise the $3,000 needed to insure preservation of just one seed (and more, if all goes well). But wait--don't go away--I'm not here to ask for your donation. Nope, we just want to spread the word and make more folks out there aware that there IS such a project in existence and that it needs our help. So, I'm asking that you tell a friend (or two) and they'll tell two friends and so on and so on, just like the Faberge Organic Shampoo ads.

However, if you want to donate, we won't stop you and it will come back to you threefold, as Sister Bea used to say. Just see the button on the bottom of this post or go to the MSBP website. The seeds thank you and so do I.

Photo from home

My adorable Daddy sent me a photo of snow...just in case I forgot what snow was.
It reminds me of this Supertramp album coverand now I'm singing "Even in the quietest moments" over and over.

In which I shake my head

There was a great article in the LA Times today about divers from Catalina volunteering to cut a net from a sunken trawler which has been killing marine life for two years. The fact that the net has been killing things is not great, but the volunteers from the various diving schools and stores getting together is wonderful. You can read it here. One of my favorite parts is this:

"Wind-driven waves bucked the hull as several children on board plucked a variety of critters -- strawberry anemones, sea cucumbers, brittle stars, shrimp, crabs and snails -- off the retrieved netting and tossed them back into the ocean."

It's downright "aw" inducing. I, personally, would be squealing and as far from the critters as possibly, but I love kids who are unafraid. Then I came to this part:

"Worldwide, there are many thousands of derelict killer nets like this one, abandoned and adrift in the in the seas," said marine biologist Cooper. "In one case, abandoned fishing gear in Puget Sound was studied for 10 years. An estimated 30,000 marine mammals, fish and birds were killed each year in it."

Thirty thousand creatures were killed each year and they just studied it. In ten years they couldn't figure out a way to fix the problem? Perhaps send divers to gather the gear? A crane, maybe, if it was too heavy? Nope, let's just study this and watch the animals die. Obviously, all the abandoned nets in the sea can't be retrieved. I'm sure there were extenuating circumstances--no one claiming it, lack of government funding, no volunteer group to take up the cause--but someone cared enough to study it for ten years. Couldn't that person/group organize something? In ten years time?? If tiny little Catalina could do it...

A lesson learned

Never put off filing. It only backs up more and more and then you will spend the better part of Friday afternoon as well as your entire weekend trying to catch up. I have been at work for 5 hours and I'm too tired to file anymore. I will have to come back and finish tomorrow because the boss wants it ALL done by Monday morning. My weekend--das sucken muchen.

Fortunately, I have Ben & Jerry's in the freezer to drown my sorrows.

Clearly I work with heathens

I slept poorly last night and woke up late this morning, but I had to shower and wash my hair. I turned on the water and the pipes made the most horrific sound, like the wailing of demons. That should have been my first clue.

I stepped outside to find my street completely empty except for Jamie. The whole street, people. No one around at all. When I got up to Sunset Boulevard, it was empty, too. There wasn't a car for blocks and I was able to zip right out. I also hit three green lights in a row and saw maybe five cars in as many blocks. I pulled into our parking garage, which was relatively empty, parked and zipped right up to our floor. Upon entering the office I asked our receptionist, "Did I sleep through The Rapture? There's no one on the roads." She said that she, too, had an easy commute. Then, a gentleman who was driving up from San Diego for Noon meeting arrived much earlier. "I left early to give myself plenty of time, but there was no traffic." Hmmm....

Later, while running errands, traffic was still really light. I know Fridays are normally light, but this was to the extreme. Our office was fully staffed, however, so if this was The Rapture I'm in good company. or bad company....(sing it with me) Baaaad Company and I can't deny it.....

also, I'm totally getting kicked out of NaBloPoMo for not posting two days in one week.

Lunch of Champions

Don't mess with me when I want my XXX water.

Conspiracy Theory

Occasionally I like a Vitamin Water with my lunch. It's not that I need the vitamins (I probably do, but that's another issue) or that I'm fooled into thinking it's doing me any good (although that one with the purple label totally helps with cramps). I just drink a whole lot of plain ol' good for you water and sometimes a girl needs flavor. Criss turned me on to the XXX Vitamin Water with Acai, blueberry and pomegranate and it quickly became my favorite. The only problem is the deli downstairs where I purchase them only has one at a time. If Criss and I both want one, we have to fight and it's not pretty--plus she's got about 4 inches on me and grew up with 3 younger brothers. Also, the one bottle in stock is usually hidden about three deep and you have to really want it to wade through all the pink and orange ones to get it. I think the deli lady does it on purpose, although I have no idea what that purpose could be. Does she have a sweetheart on the side for whom she saves it ? Does she have a strange sense of fun and gets her kicks out of watching me climb into the refrigerated case to find one? Criss thinks it's just that she has limited space and only orders big on the best sellers but I know better. She's got mischief in her eyes.

Today, I stopped at the newly-opened convenience store located in our building's lobby, which is owned by the deli folks. The deli owner's son was minding the shop. I searched and found the ONE bottle of XXX Vitamin Water and told him jokingly, "I found it! I think your mom hides them on me on purpose." He replied, "Oh, there's more of those in the back. I'll bring more out for you."

So, she does hide them on me! Why? What kind of wacky hi jinks is she playing at? I'm not sure, but it's on.

Oh, please don't kick me out of NaBloPoMo because I missed yesterday. I was going to cheat and back date this post, but I'm honest that way. I'll post twice today.

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse...

Please tell me someone is watching the train wreck that is "True Beauty." I think the best was host Vanessa Minnillo practically wagging her finger at the gal who got sent home tonight saying, "True beauty comes from within." Please tell me that's going to be the catch phrase like "you're fired," especially if it comes with Vanessa's finger wagging. You can tell Tyra has a hand in it. Between this and DeAnna showing up on "The Bachelor" to mess with Jason's head (after having dumped Jesse, the snowboarder), it's going to be some incredibly bad reality TV. Damn, I have to fix that HD converter.

And yes, I watch the worst in television broadcasting.

HD Fail--Again

I checked with the fine folks at DTVanswers.com and watched the video and everything and I still have nothing but noise. And it doesn't help when they have thisall over the TV. Okay, principles be damned. I want TV. Where's my nephew when I need him?

The glamorous single life

I had an itch on my leg and while scratching I realized just how long it had been since I shaved my legs. I wear pants to work and since no one is seeing me naked lately, it hasn't been my top priority. How long? Harold of the purple crayon fame has chest hair.

Don't get me started about pedicures.


[edit] Yes, I have taken care of the grooming situation.

Oh, sleep, you fickle mistress

When I go to bed at a decent hour, I can't sleep. So I start to read or write something and I'm drifting off in no time. When I want to stay up and watch "Hellboy," I'm out like a light midway through. When I wake up at 2am on the sofa and go to bed for reals, again with the wide awakeness. Dear inner clock: What are you trying to do to me??

I did manage to doze a bit after the 2am wake up call, but was awake again at 6am. In an effort to avoid Frau contact, I skipped downstairs in my jammies and dropped my rent check in the box. Since I was up, I got dressed and came to work. Did I have to work today? no. Was I on time for what would have been a regular work day for the first time in six months? yes. Sheesh. I did not tackle the mound of filing that has been backing up because I was too tired to stand in the filing room all day. I did, however, manage to listen to and transcribe a two-hour finance committee meeting which is no small feat considering my incompetence in the numbers field. Why do all finance meetings end up sounding like that annoying hum of power lines after about 15 minutes? Basically, I spent the past four hours like this: zzzzzz...oh, wait, what did he say? (rewind) blahblahblah...zzzzzzzz...Oh, what was that figure? (lather. rinse. repeat)

I popped downstairs to the deli for soup (because it is cold today, yessiree) and salad. I got the Chinese Chicken Salad. Can you find the salad in this picture? Because all I see is the chicken and crispy noodle things.They do not skimp on the Ginger dressing, though, and I do appreciate that.

I'm heading home now. Hopefully I'll make it through the end of "Hellboy" and possibly, dare to dream, "Hellboy II."

So far, so not good...but I'm okay with it

I had plans for today. Mom always said whatever you do on January 1st you'll be doing for the rest of the year. I have plans for this year and I didn't want to jinx them by setting a poor tone today. First, I was going to do what I do every year--call my mom and watch the Rose Parade with her via telephone.

Then, after a quick breakfast, I planned to start an overhaul of my apartment--cleaning as if I were moving out, because that's exactly what I want to do this year. I want to move out. I was going to spend the day in the area I would like to move to, but I decided against it. I don't want to put too much pressure myself to fulfill that dream.

My next plan of action included writing. Once upon a time, I was going to be a writer. I wrote like crazy. My mind worked faster than my hand and pen could move (this was back before computers because I'm old). Then, something happened that I can't explain and I stopped. Every once in a while I'll wake up with a story in my head and write it down, or write down an outline with some full paragraphs that sprung fully formed from my sleepy brain. These usually get no further than this stage. I come back to them and the outline doesn't make sense to me anymore or I can't remember that one phrase that I thought would be perfect. So, yeah, me as a writer? Not so much.
Then, last week, I was talking to a guy at work and mentioned this past ambition. He is a sweet guy and always has a kind word, but this time, he seemed particularly sincere. He simply said, "you should write." The next day I opened a package from a vendor and inside was a bunch of sample logo products. One of items was a pink terry cloth head band, like the tennis players wore in the 70's, with the words "Be Creative" embroidered on it. I saw this as a sign.

So there you have it--things I was going to do today to set the tone for 2009. What have I done today? Called my mom and watched the parade, made killer guacamole and ate way too much in one sitting, and fell asleep. I don't think I've cursed the year, though. I have plans, you see, and one wasted day will not deter me.