Blame the pills

A weird side-effect of the anti-depressants?  I am actually finding it easy to do work at work - which means I'm not blogging at work.  With the help of free wi-fi at my nearest Starbucks, however, I hope to do better.  So - what have I been up to?  Well, in January, there was my non-birthday (my choice) which nevertheless involved the gift of an amazing new camera, which I used to take this photo of my youngest nephew, Joshua David.  Adorable, no?

And then in February, I used the camera to take this photo of some other crazy person who was also headed to the Obama call center at 4:00 a.m. to take voters' calls on Super-Tuesday:

And then in March, there was, of course, Easter at the lovely Mrs. AK's home - I mean, regard the tablescape!

And this is the butter!  You see what we are working with here - impressive!

 

April, the camera was used again in DC, but I have to get clearance from those depicted before I throw any people photos on up here.  Here are some touristy/artsy-fartsy shots, though:

What?!?!

I find this more disgusting than I can possibly say - a children's picture book to walk a kid through Mommy's tummy tuck and nose job? Again I say - what?!?!

Kid: "Will you look different?"

Mom: "Not just different, my dear - prettier."

Kid: "But you are already the prettiest mommy in the whole world."

Which last statement Mommy proceeds to discount/ignore/invalidate by hopping on into surgery. "It's not who you are inside, kid, its how you look that counts."

Happily there is no possible way that thinking will rebound on Mommy and Daddy when their perfectly normal 14 year old stops eating because she isn't thin enough and wants to start botox because her face moves so much more than Mommy's - I mean, facial expressions can't be pretty if Mommy doesn't have them - and when she cruises right into demands for boob and nose jobs so she can unveil the new her at her Super Sweet Sixteen birthday party.

Is it wrong for me to hope for a more Bad Seed sequel? "Everybody Thinks So" maybe?

Argh!

Why can my sister see my new design layout, but I cannot! The horrifying mysteries of blogger.

Weekend

This weekend I saw Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, which I found delightful - I have a bit of a girl-crush on Francis McDormand - but, in addition, I do think Amy Adams just could not be cuter (although I do not have a girl crush on her) and then Shirley Henderson showed up, and then Captain Wentworth from the A&E version of Persuasion, which was lovely. And, of course, the costume and set design is fabulous. My new thing is to go to a diner for breakfast on Saturday and then hit the insanely early (but also relatively cheap) first matinee of the day. The theater is next to a Walgreens, so I went in to buy a few sundries, but it was St. Patrick's Day (observed) in Chicago, so I decided I would prefer to be shopping at Target without the noon-drunks, so I went to Target, and then, because one is at Target, one must look around and lo .... a vacuum cleaner designed for dog hair. So, Reader, I bought it - and then the rest of my weekend was spring cleaning (except for a delightful brunch at Melike's).

Wha???

The new Beowulf is out - basically, the odd offspring of the basic plot outlines of the poem, crossed with the movies 300, and, worse, Polar Express - the review, I noted, perfectly expresses my opinion of the body tweaking in said 300 (about which I continue to ask, why? Whence this notion that a six-pack is all that and a bag of chips? Myself, I am not opposed to a bit of a tum, but... that is neither here nor there.) From the NYT review:


The same no doubt accounts for why Mr. Winstone, an actor of substantial stomach girth who is every inch a sexy beast in his own right, has been transformed into a generic-looking gym rat complete with six-pack.


'Generic-looking gym rat' - flawless. I could not be more over the 'one-acceptable-body-type-for-women' thing (please, Ms. Parton? Ms. Ricci? Eat something, for the love of god) and I'm saddened to think that now the concept is going to be applied to men, too (although, with my typical feminist slant, I note that men aren't expected to *be* the 'correct' body type yet, they are just CGI'ed into it).

Boys. Oy.

Why oh why are boys at the gym so dang loud? I took a Pilates class yesterday next to this guy who you would think spent the entire class bench-pressing twice his own weight. In Pilates. (a) it really isn't the sort of workout that requires grunting and (b) aren't you supposed to be breathing in and out slowly and thoroughly anyway?
And why oh why do boys feel the need to grunt, groan, moan, exhale explosively, etc. in the steam room? Sweet Jesus - they aren't doing anything in there except (hopefully) relaxing - and can't they even relax quietly? Why?
The steam room aspect is clearly an annoying aspect of my gym - to wit. the co-ed steam room. In this instance I miss my supremely expensive back-when-I-was-a-lawyer gym with the steam room in the locker rooms - no need for a suit *and* blessed blessed silence. The other annoying aspect of my current gym is the Parade Grounds for all the women. Everything - and I mean *everything* - main cardio room, main weight room, pool, steam room, sauna, whirlpool, quiet cardio room, all studios and the MEN's locker room are on the first floor. What, you might ask, is on the second floor (and it is really more like a loft - it is not the whole second floor by any means)? The women's locker room - accessed by a set of stairs and a bridge, right out there in the open, which means that, when you arrive, to get to the locker rooms you have to Parade up the stairs and across the bridge - in full and glorious sight of the entire main work-out room, then you Parade back down. Even worse is getting to the pool area, because there is an equivalent Parade Ground consisting of bridge and stairs that you have to trot down in your swimsuit - cellulite and ass in full view of anyone (a) already in the pool or (b) lounging in the hot-tub. Men just appear - poof! - at the pool - their workout room opens onto right next to the pool - I feel it is unfair.
My annoyance with this has been building for a while, clearly. If it weren't for the lovely cleaned-by-non-chlorine-methods pool, which leaves your skin smooth and soft after a long swim, instead of stretched tightly across your bones in the manner of chlorine pools anywhere...

Random Dumbledore-ish Thoughts

Having read some comments on the web responding to JKR's announcement that she has always thought of Dumbledore as gay (which I was totally there for, and am (bias alert) totally for) can I just say the following?

1. Gay does NOT equal pedophile. Sweet Jesus, people. C'mon.
2. I sincerely doubt that JK Rowling is concerned about boosting her sales numbers.
3. I was there, and, while we, in the audience, speculated about how long it would take to hit teh internets, the AP? BBC? NPR? Really? (And did I mention I was there).
4. The books are written from a point of view - specifically - Harry's. If Harry doesn't see something (with I believe only one exception - "The Two Prime Ministers" chapter) neither do we. Harry is prolly not real worried about Dumbledore's sexuality (perhaps because he has many other qualities?). Dumbledore can be gay and it can be something that wouldn't make it into the books.
5. It makes sense in context of the books, particularly book 7. (And, see 4 above).
6. There are pretty broad hints as regards bestiality in the books and THIS is what has people's knickers in a twist?