Home Depot Update

Ten percent off our cabinet order. We're OK with that. And at least they called back today. Then again, it wasn't the manager, it was the expediter. She was pretty nice about it. No apology or acceptance of responsibility, though.

The Next Generation Video Star

Instapundit links to a (highly academic at parts) James Pinkerton piece about videogames' inevitable takeover of film's historical role as king of all entertainment. For the most part, I think they're both right. However, I don't think the movie industry is standing still. I think they do recognize consumers' desire to take a more active role in their entertainment. But the inertia that comes with being such a huge industry has prevented tons of quick change to meet those needs.

But there have been changes (full disclosure: I know very little about the actual movie industry...except that I watch movies). About a year ago, I analyzed a study of the home entertainment experience. One of the glaring findings involved a huge generational difference in movie watching.

When my parents watch a movie, they watch it. They sit in their living room and watch it from beginning to end. This is, in part, why my mom likes going to the movies so much. And why my parents will never spend the money for movie channels (even though they really should get HBO just for the programming- forget the movies).

But when my friends or Cooper and I watch a movie, it's a totally different experience. It's not nearly as important to us to watch a movie from beginning to end. Right now, The Girl Next Door is on HBO. Not a movie I'd ever have planned to see (but it was pretty good). Two weeks ago, I watched the second half of the movie. Last week, I watched the first half. Now I've seen the movie. It doesn't matter so much that it wasn't in chronological order (thank you, Quentin). I'm sure I'll watch parts of it again before it ends it's run. And soon, lines from it will enter our lexicon. Movies live on and on, thanks to their quotes. They're interactive. And we have control over their lifespan.

And this is to say nothing of DVDs. Doesn't everyone watch the deleted scenes? The "making of" documentaries? Well, no, my parents don't. But I do. True, the actors and producers are still in charge of creating those bonus features...but watching them makes me feel like I've been taking behind the curtain, just a little bit.

Movie producers know all of this. Movies today are shuffled off to DVD much quicker than they used to be...with bonus features ready to go. And movies themselves, comedies at least, are clearly written with the quoter in mind. Yes, back in the day, you had Clint Eastwood and "make my day" and all that. But that was the exception, not the rule. Today, every producer/director/writer hopes to be quoted. Take writing for Christopher Walken for example. His character in The Rundown was written to quote just as much as his Bruce Dickinson was. Because quotable = funny. And quotable also = mindshare. It's survival of the fittest. The movie that's quoted lives on to see another marketing push at Christmas.

And, of course, there's always the web. The great equalizer. As movie fans, we can blog, we can chat, we can read away to our little heart's content. And on the web, the fans really are in the driver's seat. The studios play along, though, and create interesting web sites, games and message boards to fuel the fire.

So no, movies aren't now and never will be as interactive and consumer-controlled as videogames. But they're certainly not as static as they used to be, and we do have the evil empire of movie studios to thank (in part) for that.

Screaming

I had a visceral reaction this morning as I read that at least one of the versions of Munch's The Scream was destroyed. It seems to still be a rumor...but a disturbing one to say the least.

The link above goes to an interesting conversation on Metafilter. I actually didn't realize there were people out there who believe that an original piece of artwork, especially one of this level of quality, holds no more intrinsic value than its copies. I know I place a high value on art as compared to the general population, but come on. How can someone who's ever visited a museum actually feel that way.

Part of the argument made is that excessive commercial reproduction somehow cheapens the value of the work of art in any form. Maybe I'm a part of the Munch problem (I did send out Scream Christmas cards a few years ago...because they were awesome, not because I was trying to be cute) but I hardly see how overexposure would make it even a little OK to lose the original. If nothing else, I'd think its more important that people see the original, so they don't confuse the experience of seeing the glossy print or the cheap t-shirt with the experience of seeing the real thing.

Most of the commenters on "my" side, defending the value of the original even in the face of tons of reproductions, focus on the physical characteristics of original artwork (or live musical performance - an interesting tangent started by someone who's clearly never seen anything much live). This is a good argument - it's true - but I think it misses two things. First, and this is addressed in the comments, perfect brushstroke-matching forgeries exist. Over ten years ago, my parents bought a Renior "forgery" created by a computer. It is extremely cool, as it has all the brushstrokes of the original and, as a result, has some of the same presence as the original. But it doesn't have quite the same magic - at least not for me.

And magic is the only way I can describe it, as trite as it sounds. When I look at a painting, especially when I look up close, I always think to myself, "The artist actually touched this. This is where he was standing. He looked at this and thought about what to do next. What did he think about?"

For me, appreciating a painting - really appreciating it - requires establishing that kind of a connection to the artistic genius behind it. That connection draws me into it. The most amazing works of art are ones that engage the audience in just that way - drawing them (me) in and making them (me) feel a part of creation.

As a sidebar, that's how I distinguish between good and bad art (clearly subjectively). I could never look at a Jeff Koons piece and wonder what his inspiration was or try to imagine him at the point of creation. They're too obviously driven by money (from my perspective). But I can look at something created by a minimalist (the Baltimore Museum of Art has a nice room) and feel a connection. It's hard, then, for me to explain to someone else (like my mother), why I consider minimalism (which, admittedly, often looks like nothing) "art," and quality art, at that. It's all about the connection.

I'm beginning to digress, but I'll close with this. One of the Metafilter commenters said something about how cool it would be to ride a Dali-esque roller coaster and visit a Bosch haunted house. Totally agreed. I'd be all over an art-related theme park.

"It Just Keeps Getting Better and Better"

That's what Cooper said shortly after the trap for the sink broke as he was reinstalling it. Has a big hole in it now.

I hate Home Depot.

The Science Fair

Now that I've blown off (a little) steam about the countertop thing, I can get back to what I wanted to write about today: the Carroll Manor Elementary School Science Fair.

Unfortunately, I forgot to take pictures, but let me tell you...computers and digital cameras are amazing things. Back in '84, when I was in the science fair, it was all about markers and straight edges. These days, its a little more advanced, so even the most ridiculous project can look fancy.

And some of them certainly were fancy. Some had the definite luster of a mom who's not so far from her sorority girl days (everything but the puffy paint). Unfortunately, almost all of them managed to ignore at least one or two line items from the checklist we used for grading.

Even so, there were some pretty impressive projects. I judged the fourth graders with the help of two other judges: a retired man who tutors at the school (and who's kids went there) and an ex-cop stay at home mom who lives down the street from one of the teachers. The three of us got along well - our impressions were pretty consistent (we discussed the first project, then judged everything else on our own).

While I'm not going to sign up for a teaching job anytime soon, something about judging was definitely fun. The power! The excitement! After judging all 40 projects individually, we averaged our scores and interviewed the top 3 kids to decide who would go to the county science fair. The looks on the kids' faces was priceless. I can't believe I'm old enough to be on the receiving end of that kind of look...like I'm the authority.

The boy who won first place was awesome. If I was in 4th grade, I think I'd like him. He was friendly and obviously athletic and totally cute...and his project was amazing. It was on pond pollution and he obviously actually did it himself. I left crossing my fingers that my kids are that well-rounded.

And the little girl who came in third...I wanted to take her home. She was wearing an adorable pink polo shirt with white, pink and brown flowered capris. Clearly, all the boys like her, but she didn't give off a cocky mean girls vibe (then again, she probably wouldn't to me...I'm sure I don't exactly look like her competition). I loved her. I wanted to give her second place, possibly because I liked her outfit.

The third little boy had clearly not done any of his project himself...and he was super shy. But cute, I guess. I was still blinded by the other two.

So the science fair itself was great. I loved how happy the kids were...and I walked away feeling like I'll be a good parent when it comes to helping with stuff like this (though I will do my very best NOT to do my kids' projects for them. We'll see how that goes.)

But...possibly the weirdest part of the whole day was at lunch. My team of judges ate lunch with the other team and with the principal and vice principal (my friend Will). We were talking about random stuff when a woman on the other team (a friend of the ex-cop) somehow got on the subject of people from New Hampshire. She rambled on for a little while about how down to earth they are (who cares) and how they're so not into material things (I find that hard to believe as a state-wide statement). And the example she used..."like if you drive a BMW, they'll be like, whatever, you only drive that because you think its a great car. They have no patience for that type of person."

I might have blushed at that point (I should mention - I was all kinds of preppied out - pink pants, pink and white flowered shoes with a RIBBON on them, etc. I looked like I might drive a BMW.). I tried to catch Will's eye, but I think he was purposefully avoiding me. I wasn't sure whether I should say, "I used to drive a BMW" and make her (or me) look like an ass, but I just kept quiet. And reminded myself never to make a blanket statement like that in front of people I don't know. Not that I would anyway. Because I have, you know, social skills.

I couldn't help but look around in the parking lot before I got in my car, though. I kind of wanted her to see me in the (fabulous) Mercedes, just so she'd maybe be embarrassed. Then again, she probably would just think I was "that" kind of person. But so what if I am? Its a hot car. And so was the BMW (especially when I first got it).

She was kind of gross anyway. And she couldn't control her language. I mean, there's a time and a place. And an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL is not the place. Seriously.

Anyway, that was the science fair. Pollutants, pizza and class warfare.

"You're Asking Me to Fix Something I Didn't Break"

That's what the manager of our local Home Depot just said to Cooper. I almost can't believe it.

I'm more than a little upset with the orange giant right now. Ever since our new kitchen project began (almost a month ago), dealing with HD has been frustrating. Up until today, though, its been manageable. Today, not so much.

It all started back at the end of March. One day, we decided to get new cabinets, so we made an appointment with a HD "kitchen consultant." Our initial appointment, when we picked our cabinets and countertop, took 2 1/2 hours - even though we walked in knowing exactly what we wanted...and our kitchen is about 5x5.

So we were there forever, not a huge deal. We ordered and paid and got a phone call a few days later from Kraftmaid, saying the cabinets would be delivered May 11th. Fine.

Then we got another phone call, three days later, from HD, saying our delivery date had been pushed up and we'd get our cabinets April 29th. Fantastic. Especially since that's a Friday and it happened to work out well for installation.

The next few weeks went by with little pain (except for the 1 hour long countertop ordering meeting - even though we'd already picked the countertop and had all the info in the HD computer...and that I had to call HD TWICE to get them to finally fax the countertop info to the fabricator. But these are little things). During my countertop meeting, the consultant confirmed our April 29th delivery.

By Monday, Cooper and I were both very excited to get the new cabinets. He helped some friends install new cabinets last weekend, as practice. It went well. Yesterday, I took everything out of our old cabinets and he tore them down (and I do mean "tore"...they weren't the sturdiest) and took off the countertop. We took the sink out, unhooked the dishwasher and took down the over the range microwave. Only the refrigerator and stove are currently usable.

And today I called Kraftmaid to find out what time the cabinets would be delivered tomorrow.

Unfortunately, no one at Kraftmaid knew what I was talking about. Our delivery is scheduled for May 11th. Just like it (apparently) always was. They were very nice, but can't do anything to help me, since our cabinets haven't even been MADE yet. (At this point, I checked our messages to make sure we'd actually gotten the second call and hadn't dreamed it. We had.)

A call to HD was little help. First I talked to the "expediter" who was nice and confirmed that yes, indeed, HD had called us with the 4/29 date. But, sorry, Kraftmaid doesn't have a record of it - she confirmed that, too. And no, there's nothing she can do to speed up delivery.

I went into my kitchen, looked at the contents of the cabinets strewn all over the house and the big hole where we used to have a sink and counters, and very nearly crumbled. Two more weeks of this?

When he got home, Cooper called the manager. Cooper has a work account with HD and has spent a fair amount of money there in the past month. So we thought he might have some clout, as a "bigger" customer. Apparently, though, HD doesn't care much about that.

Cooper was very nice on the phone. He made it clear that he wasn't looking for free cabinets, just maybe some kind of discount. Maybe cover the cost of our sink. That's not so much - about 3% of the total cost of our kitchen. At this point, honestly, I'd almost be happy with an apology. Apparently, even that's too much to ask.

Ken took Cooper's name and number, but we don't really expect to hear from him. His initial response was, "You're asking me to fix something I didn't break." Well, no, Ken, you didn't personally ruin our cabinets, but there certainly was a mixup somewhere either in your store or between you and your vendor. As the manager, shouldn't you take the responsibility?As it stands right now, it looks like we'll be the ones paying for that mistake, even though we really are the innocent party in this.

Right now, Cooper is building a frame that will hold up our countertop for the next two weeks and is reinstalling our old sink. And I'm fuming, much like I have been all day. Lowe's is looking friendlier and friendlier by the minute. Not even to mention Stebbins Anderson and Ayd, our local hardware stores. They might be a little pricier...but a few cents feels awfully worth it right now.

Ugh. I'm still furious. Apparently complaining didn't help.

UPDATE: I forgot to add that during our initial meeting, we were told we'd get a $250 credit as a bonus because we ordered a Silestone countertop, only to discover, when I actually ordered the countertop, that the consultant was mistaken. No credit for us.

Boring Update because I Feel Like I Should Post

1. My herb garden has not progressed. While last week I did pull my hamstrings weeding for a few hours (got little done) and yesterday Cooper cleared some space for me, the herbs I bought are still sitting outside in their little plastic containers. They're dying from the cold. Right now, from my window, I can see one of them (the thyme I think) face down on the patio. I went outside earlier to straighten them up and saw a dead bird (a big one) right there on the patio next to it. It freaked me out enough that I had to leave the herbs as they were and go back inside. Apparently I can't deal with death.

2. For the past 3 weeks, our heat/AC switch has been broken. So our heat doesn't work. It was below 40 last night. I'm freezing.

3. Despite the cold, I read two really good books last week and have yet another authorly crush. This one is Ruth Reichl, editor of Gourmet and former restaurant critic for the NYT. I read her first two books on Wednesday and Thursday of this week. They were both extremely entertaining and well written. And I love books with recipes.

4. I am SO EXCITED for my big judging debut tomorrow. I plan to take lots of pictures, as long as I'm allowed. My own science fair experience was limited to a fourth grade study of tooth decay (pretty prescient, considering what lay in store for me, dentally)...that my mother did for me. I remember sitting next to her as she did it, but I played a minimal role. She was always better than I was at the science projects (she did a great job making my rocket in 11th grade physics...I mean, it was AFTER the AP test...its not like it counted for much...). Anyway, science fair judge. Excited.

Horrendous

This really, really, really, really hurts me. I can't even put into words how much.

So, do I watch it? Or pretend its not happening?

My Job Next Week

Next Tuesday morning, at 9:30, I will be one of the judges for an elementary school science fair (one of my friends is the assistant principal). I can't wait. However, apparently volcanoes have been outlawed. I guess there were just too many.

More Unabashed Althouse Worship

I've mentioned here before that I really, really like pretty much everything Ann Althouse writes. Her very law-focused posts lose me sometimes, but that's just because I'm not that into the detail of the law. But her pop culture posts...they're awesome.

Like this one, where she mentions that God Only Knows by the Beach Boys is her favorite song. Those of you who made it through my big list of music (aka the post that inspired the "get a job" comments from BOTH my readers) and/or this subsequent post know how much I love that song, too. A lot.

What you probably didn't know, though, is just how much I (like Althouse) detest the song Love the One You're With (Stephen Stills). I'm not as anti-CSN as she is (and I'm certainly not as pro-Neil Young as she is...something about him repels me) - but that song feels like a travesty to me. I don't hate the music itself, but the words bring something out in me. Some sort of hidden morality that just can't deal with the message.

Lacking in the Motivation

Over the past few weeks, I've discovered that all of my (female and married) friends are really into their yards. It's spring and all of a sudden everyone's talking about planting things and using words I don't recognize.

Last year, I was too busy with the wedding stuff to think much about our yard. We planted some herbs and I took care of them and was very, very proud, but that was the extent of it. So, in an effort to keep up (and because it is really nice outside and flowers are pretty) I've decided to become outdoorsy.

I mentioned this to Cooper, and that I wasn't really sure where to start, and he pointed out that I taught myself to cook in a few months by reading and experimenting...so at least he has faith in me.

I've done the first part - some internet research. And part of the second part - I bought a bunch of herbs (they're so practical - it makes me feel like Ina Garten to have fresh herbs to use - and I totally want to be her). I got cute copper plant labels and engraved the herbs' names on them. And I did a little bit of pruning on the hydrangea in front of the house (the reality is that this shouldn't be that difficult - there are tons of plants in our yard that just appear every year and seem to thrive without any prompting - so as long as I don't kill them, I'll feel successful.)

But that's where it ends.

For the past 5 days, I've written "herb garden" on my list of things to do. I picked a spot in the yard that seemed like a good idea (last year's herbs got too much sun and died in August - which made me feel like a total failure, of course). And finally today I went outside and found our garden rake to prep the area.

Lasted about 30 seconds. Its hard as a rock. Who knew? Well, I actually think Cooper knew and tried to warn me, but I didn't listen.

So I am totally back to the drawing board. And in the meantime, the herbs I bought are starting to look really sad and wilty. Inspiring, of course, a total crisis of confidence.

Dream Blogging and Maps

Since I started this blog, I have consciously resisted posting anything at all about my dreams. Not because I don't have vivid dreams - I do - but because I usually find reading about other people's dreams incredibly boring.

I'm going to break that today, though. I won't get into plot details (in part because I can't remember any) but I will say this: my dreams for the past few weeks have been less about action and more about place. Specifically, about a city. This city is a crazy combination of Baltimore and Washington and Lisbon and probably some other places I've been and is extremely vivid - more so in each subsequent dream. Its also a place with a lot of very cool shops and restaurants.

Last night a big chunk of the dream involved me looking at maps of the city and telling someone I was with about the different places where I'd lived and worked.

So I woke up thinking about maps and how much they fascinate me. My office calendar this year is a collection of ancient maps, even. And this morning, I remembered this post by Stephen Green about creating a real map of the world - totally cool concept, totally beyond my capabilities. I also remembered that a few months ago I scanned in a couple of metro maps I picked up while in Europe (belo). I love how all metro maps look so similar...even though the metro experience itself is so varied...

Paris

Sweet, sweet Paris. Somehow the metro is charming, despite the overwhelming stench. And it is overwhelming.

London

I think my favorite thing about this map might be that my Europe trip roommate's boyfriend's number is written on the top. She'd met him in Thailand the summer before our trip and had been dating him long distance (for almost a year). She broke up with him during the three big days we were in London. I felt so sorry for him...though I didn't really want to hang out with him either.

Stockholm

Stockholm's metro was possibly the cleanest public transportation ever (with very cool art on the walls you pass by while on the train)

Possibly a Sign of the Apocalypse

This kind of makes me want to pretend I don't own a cell phone. I'm not surprised, though.

Writing Again

A few months ago, I mentioned that I hadn't had an authorly crush in quite some time. I'm happy to say that all that's changed now (and just might be the reason why I was able to actually finish the Alexandra story - and have two additional fiction story ideas - within the past week).

My new hero is Bill Bryson. He's not exactly a new author, but he's totally new to me. When Cooper painted the built-in bookshelves in our living room, I went through all the books to sort out some to give away. In doing so, I found a book called Neither Here nor There, written by Bryson around 1991. Its nonfiction, about his travels through Europe in the 70s and 1990. It is the first book I've read straight through in years. I ALWAYS skip to the end after about 50 pages, then go back and read straight through. Even when I read DaVinci Code (in under 24 hours). Not this book, though.

The author is funny and interesting and a good storyteller. And the subject - to me - is wildly interesting. I love reading about Europe, especially Eastern Europe, in 1990 (just after the fall of the wall) from a non-historical perspective.

Bill Bryson. Highly, highly recommended.

The House that Almost Was Ours

Due to excessive water and termite damage of the structural kind, Cooper and I will not be moving to 20 Cedar Avenue (AKA Michael Phelps Way) any time soon. I'm a little disappointed, as the house had tons of potential, but not crushed, as we really weren't planning on moving for at least a year. This way, I'll be able to enjoy our fabulous new kitchen (cabinets arriving April 29th!) for more than three days before selling the house.

It was pretty, though, underneath all the ugly curtains and too much Wedgewood blue paint. Oh yeah, and the health-threatening mold and nasty water damaged walls.

But judge for yourself. Next two pics show where we could've lived, if only things had been different...

View from the backside. What you can't see is how the overgrown (but very pretty) plants have retained water over the years, causing great water damage. 

Ugliest. Curtains. Ever. Great fireplace and built-in bookshelves, though. And high ceilings and nice hardwood floors (in better shape than our floor here). There was also a built-in china cabinet in the (huge) dining room. Unfortunately, all of the molding and architectural elements in the ENTIRE house were painted that blue. Its not the worst color in the world (the mustardy curtains might take that prize) but there was WAY too much of it.

Fun Family Trips

Growing up in a family that revered the educational vacation/field trip, I can only imagine how many times I would have visited something like this if it existed on the East Coast in the early 80s.

Not that I minded the educational trips with the fam. I'm not in love with the Air and Space Museum, but all the "experiencing history" for an afternoon or few days certainly beats out three weeks of being 13 in an RV traveling the west. And something historical must have rubbed off on me, considering where I spent my college days.

Good Mood

a) I just finished writing the children's book I started two months ago. FINISHED. It's not very good, but I never finish anything, so it feels GREAT.

b) The house we looked at yesterday and that I've thought all day we wouldn't get might actually be ours. We hadn't planned on moving quite yet, but this is an AMAZING house.

c) Its nice out for the third day in a row.

Sounds Like..

the manic days in my high school diary.

And I mean, exactly.

The Pope

I guess because my family's Catholicism is SO lapsed, I've never really thought very much about the Pope until these past few days. Even when Cooper and I were going through pre-Cana, when we were talking about religion, the Pope didn't really come up. Which is why its so interesting for me now to read, over and over again, commentary from people who aren't even Catholic - some of whom don't even believe in God - who remark on what an amazing man he was. My mom yesterday, at lunch, said something about what a brilliant and good person he was. Which marked the first time I can ever remember her saying something about him.

I just read something that noted that we're at the end of one era, beginning of a new. For the past month or two, its felt to me like that's the case in a lot of ways. Possibly that's just how it always feels - I can't imagine living during any time period, even one that history would remember as relatively boring, and not feeling as though the world were changing dramatically. But maybe that's because the world is always changing dramatically. But I definitely feel like these years are more like 1848 than to, say, any year during the Plague (and I realize that's a highly Euro-centric view of things. But Europe's what I know about, so its what I think about).

So in a way, it seems right that the Pope would die during times like these, especially since he played such a big role in the fall of communism. Apparently when the announcement of his death was made in the Vatican, the crowd applauded. That seems very appropriate to me. It doesn't seem right to be sad, exactly, about the death of someone so holy and who lived his life with so much purpose and intention. Mournful, yes, but not sad.

It will be interesting to see what happens over the next few weeks. I hope that there's not too much opportunistic talk from people on either side of the Schiavo situation. Maybe this will help calm the more disgusting elements of that debate (which I can't turn away from, for whatever reason) and will help people, on an individual level, come to terms with death as a concept, for themselves. We'll see.

Something I'm going to be thinking about: something I read this evening (that I can't find now) touched briefly on how the Pope saw gender. It mentioned that he believed that gender was more than just a distinction; it was a calling. That seems so interesting and complicated to me. In high school and college, I strongly believed that men and women doing the same job would be more or less the same - that differences were personality based, not gender based and that to assume otherwise was stereotyping (mostly because I was extremely competitive and resented what I saw implied - that women are softer and more emotional and better with relationships - and I'm still not all relationshippy with work). But since then, since I've been working and as my friends start to have kids, I see more gender-based differences (nuances). So I will be thinking more about gender as calling.

This was a long post...and I didn't think I had that much to say. It is a little rambly...

For Posterity

The next two posts are pictures of my kitchen...as it is today. In 4-6 weeks it will be a fabulously gleaming haven of white, glass-front cabinets and sparkly black (Stellar Night) Silestone countertops. And the painting will be complete.

Then it will be on to the bathroom. Then it will be time to sell the house and start all over.

It is absolutely amazing how much we've done in the past month. And that we lived in this house together for almost two years before doing it. Cooper's lived here for just over four years now. And just this week, the outrageously ugly curtains in the kitchen and living room came down. Now that its all painted and pretty, I just can't believe how long it took us to get around to making the changes.

What you see when you face the front 

What you see when you walk in the house 

Something Interesting

...that I have never, ever thought of before. The Archbishop of Baltimore is one of the cardinals who will be voting for the next Pope. There are only nine voting cardinals from the US - and their geographic distribution is probably telling. One on the west coast, one in Chicago, and a whole bunch in the mid-Atlantic/northeast.

I think I was nine before I knew that there were religions besides Catholicism and Judaism (I had a Jewish friend, Debra Salob, in elementary school - her mom used to come to the school once a year to make us potato pancakes and explain Hanukkah and, as a side note, her dad was the dentist for the Washington Capitals. At 6 Debra was tight with a bunch of hockey players. She also got her first set of braces when she was 6. Poor girl - she had some kind of metal in her mouth all the way through high school. Little orthodontical guinea pig). Anyway, even though I went to a Baptist nursery school - and CCD in elementary school - somehow I was under the impression that everyone besides Debra was Catholic like me. All my neighborhood friends were.

Even now, almost all of my friends who are actually originally from Maryland are Catholic. Its especially noticeable around this time in my life, what with all the weddings.

Maryland: Founded as a haven for Catholics (I learned those exact words in fourth grade). Indeed.

Lunching

Its amazing how completely frivolous activity can be so exhausting. Like drinking at lunch. I just had lunch with my mom, grandmother and mother-in-law...its really tiring to hear multiple stories about how cute I was at three, dressing up in my grandmother's mink and heels and jewelry...and how completely opposite my brother was (apparently my father used to hold him down so my mom could dress him in his little suits, which only stayed on for about 2 minutes max)...and how totally different from both of us my sister was, probably at least in part because we were both old enough to torture her when she was three.

Lunch was really nice, though, and at times I think I could get used to not ever working and spending my days drinking Chardonnay in restaurants catering to the elderly. I don't think I actually have the domestic skills required for that type of life, though. I think of those ladies at good at running a household. Me, I tried to hem some drapes yesterday (the iron-on hem that comes with IKEA curtains) and failed miserably. Then I took a shot at cleaning my bathroom this morning. Not so good at that, either.

But the lunches really are nice...