First Birthday

Yes, it's a bit belated, but happy birthday to my goddaughter Adrienne. She turned one Sunday past, and even if these birthday wishes are belated, it's okay. Because her actual presents got to her right on time. This was one of them (which I made and framed):

The others were books I thought she would like; one of them was cloth, and definitely teething-baby friendly. I am super excited to one day share my favourite Dr. Seuss book with her: Hop on Pop. My mom and I read that book so much that I still have most of it memorized ("My father can say big words too, like Constantinople and Timbuktu." I could go on....)

I know I'm a bit partial, but how many godchildren change their hair from dark brown to orange so they can match their godmother? This one did!

There's a baby in my jacket

Book Recommendation

When I was doing some work-related travel in May, my co-worker Kate and I stumbled upon a lovely little bookstore in Denver, Colorado: The Tattered Cover. The shop was three floors of books connected by a green carpeted, wooden staircase. I loved the carpeting because it reminded me of both the carpet I grew up with and the floors at my Nana's best friend's house (sometimes she would babysit me when my mom and Nana went shopping). At the foot of the staircase and a little to the left was the staff recommendation section; something that always gives me some ideas when I don't know what to read next.

One of the staff members had raved on about a little paperback with an apple green cover called The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley. The short synopsis of an eleven-year-old detective in 1950's England appealed to my obsession over all things English, and the staff review made the book sound like fun. So I bought it, hoping to get to it during my trip.

Four months later, the book sat on my bedside table unread. It's not like I hadn't tried to read it; things just kept popping up. Books I ordered from the library would come in, and I wanted to give those top priority since I didn't actually own them. The little green book became fairly well-traveled, bumping along in my suitcase during other trips to Las Vegas, Vancouver, Pittsburgh, and Maine. Every time I'd open my bag, it would look patiently up at me and then dart a dirty look at the other book I was holding in my hand.

Finally a few weeks ago, I picked it up during a lull in the constant march of library books and started reading. I loved it immediately! I'm not sure if it was originally meant for children, but it's quite wonderful for adults too. I found myself wishing I had this book when I was 12 or 13; in that awkward period between kid/teen books and adult books. Thankfully, this book is now part of a series entitled Flavia de Luce Mysteries. I am excited to get the second book (grad school schedule permitting) called The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag and put it on the very top of the pile of books at my bedside...or just forgo the pile and read it immediately.

The Return

I haven't looked at this blog for ages. I blame this on grad school, but it's probably also a bit of laziness. I do think it's interesting that my last post was based on the feeling that I needed to move...because just a few months later, I did move. After that car accident last August, I came to hate driving more than  used to, and I finally found a place that was close to a (different) train line. I only drive when I want to now (or when I need to buy food). I have my own bit of a house back in olde Pennsylvania, and I quite like it.

This is my new roommate, Hank. He's more like a wee baby who screeches a lot and occasionally poops on the floor. But at least I can put him in a cage...I'm pretty sure such a thing is frowned upon when it comes to an actual child.

I'm trying to teach him how to talk....we'll see how that goes, and if I regret it at a later date. For now he just whistles and toddles around at times.

Moving

Around 7:30am on a rainy day last week, I was walking from my apartment to my car.* A man was putting oil in his car about five spaces away from me, and when he saw me he called out, "Hey! What happened to your truck?"**

Shocked/jet-lagged/a bit confused, I mumbled, "I had a car accident." And he just nodded like, "Oh, okay. Just checking," and disappeared back under the hood of his car. Now let's put aside the fact that 1.) I was still extremely jet-lagged from my recent return from the UK, 2.) it was 7:30am, and 3.) I am so not a morning person. I would instead like to focus on the fact that here was this guy who lives in my apartment complex, who I have never seen before in my life, and he knows what kind of car I drive. Creepy much?

"It's time to move," I thought to myself.

But is it really? It's strange how my first response is "Oh crap, people are starting to remember that I live here. Must be time to get the hell outta here." I mean, I was always the kid who begged her parents not to move and felt sick at the thought of somebody else living in her house. Was it the fact that I moved at least twice a year from the ages of 18-24 that changed things for me? Has all this traveling and exploring made me way too restless?

Maybe not. Most of the time I like knowing where the nearest dry cleaner is or the best place to go for a pint. I've been getting my hair cut by the same person for three years now, and I've been working for the same company for a pretty long time as well. Maybe "too restless" comes when I have an experience like the one above and immediately run back into my apartment to start packing.

I still think it's time to move, tho. People should at least say hello before the freak the crap out of you.



* I use the phrase "my car" only for convenience sake because it, actually, is not my car. It's my mom's van that has been bequeathed to my Not So Little Brother. We affectionately refer to him as "Old Sideburns" because he can grow them and to the van as "The Tank" because it kinda feels like you're driving/sitting in one.

**No, this was not a miscommunication. I used to drive a truck. I hope to do so again sometime soon.

Viva la Postcard!

A dear friend of mine is currently traveling round Europe and the UK for a few months. Before she left we were talking about postcards and how it's such a shame that people don't really send them as often as in years past. So we made a deal. It's quite simple, really. We're just going to send each other postcards from wherever we are (even if that doesn't happen to be a vacation spot). After all postcards are cheap, postcard stamps are even cheaper and can be bought in mass quantities, you don't really have to say much, and they range in design from something you can send your kid sister or grandmother to something you should probably be embarrassed not to be putting into an envelope.

True that they usually arrive at their intended destination a week or so after the person who sent them has returned from their trip, but who cares? In this age of "all mail is either a bill or junk" isn't it nice to get something that's nothing but fun?

My answer to this question is yes.

Album Currently on Repeat: Kings of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak

We Recommend....

Sometimes you have to be super discriminatory when it comes to recommending something. Thankfully, a friend was wise enough to recommended this part of the McSweeney's site. One thing I can confidently recommend: do not read this at work unless you're really good at laughing silently (I am not).

Here are a few of the recommendations that made me laugh when I probably should've been working. And yes, the Steve Martin book they mention really is that good (and also makes you laugh out loud on airplanes and/or in other inappropriate situations).

*Fifteen-month calendars
Who doesn't like a little overlap?

*Duff from Ace of Cakes
This guy Duff has a cake bakery in Baltimore and a show on the Food Network. Maybe you know the show. Our sense is that if everyone were like this guy, and if every show had this joy, we'd be all good.

*The Remington ShortCut
If you cut your own hair and like it really short, this is the Jesus Christ of hair clippers.

*Fastpasses for rides at Disney's Magic Kingdoms
We wish there were Fastpasses for other things in life, like grocery shopping and graduate school.

*Born Standing Up by Steve Martin
The story of the genesis, apex, and end of Mr. Martin's standup career. This book has been justifiably praised.

*Microwaving cake for 20 seconds before eating
Doesn't matter how powerful your microwave is—you put the cake in there for 20 seconds. Remove. Add a dollop of vanilla ice cream (chocolate generally doesn't work in these cases, probably because of some kind of microwave-induced molecular rearrangement). Use a spoon. Do that mmm-mmm-wow moan-noise thing. Thank us later.

*Bacon of the Month Club
You haven't known pleasure until a full rasher of applewood smoked bacon shows up in the arms of the UPS man just as you're prepared to give in to the forces of healthy living and eat yogurt, or some crap like that.

*Sticky roller lint pickups
We remember the older lint pickups, the ones with the semi-velvety surface stretched across an oval head. Those didn't pick up shit. These do. (If by "shit" you mean sweater fuzz and dog hair and the like.)

*Baseball on the radio
A rich experience exceeded only by baseball at the park, in which case, we also recommend listening to the radio broadcast with an earpiece in the left ear as you watch from mid-lower level, left field. Funny, too, that the rise of radio and the rise of baseball were concurrent. Timely then, timeless thereafter.

Forever a College Student

I took a publishing seminar at U. Penn today, and the whole experience of being back on a college campus and in a classroom really made me miss college. It isn't really the first time I've been to a college since I graduated, but I don't want to count spending eight hours of mind-numbing boredom in the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champagne ballroom as a nostalgic experience. However, putting my mind back into student-mode made me notice a lot of things from college that I still have around me on a daily basis. This is by no means a comprehensive list.

1. My student ID is still in my wallet. I'm not ashamed to admit that I occasionally still use it to get money off things. If you have a moral problem with that, then put yourself through college and see what you can afford post-graduation.

2. My bright orange parking permit sticker is still on the back window of my car. I never did affix the college alumni stickers they keep sending me, but anyone who looks at my car knows I once parked in G Lot.

3. My boss at the library used to make me baskets filled with candy and assorted good things for each holiday. One year, she was out of town so Dee from the ILL department left some candy on my desk and named me "an honorary ILLer." I still have the tag hanging above my desk.

4. A Care Bears valentine from Rictor.

5. A note on blue paper that also sits in my wallet (seriously. and I just cleaned out my wallet too). This note is from Becca and was written with the spinal pen. I would reveal the message, but it's a private joke so you wouldn't get it anyway. Trust me, though, it's funny.