B Cubed in the House

Monday usually finds me a little worn out from my exertions with the Rev. Boxing exertions. We now have four fighting chicas in our class, and it might stun you to know just how violent we are under our sweet exteriors. Or it might nauseate you how girly we can be..."that was a really good left hook just now, D." "R, your kicks are great." "W., that's a good jab." All compliments and making sure everyone knows they're loved.

This Monday night, though, I am Bouncing Baby Beverly. 'Cause I got some news that has me dancing. My Lendrum is wending its way to me, even as I type. ETA is Friday...just in time for Crafty Friday.

Even more exciting news...my ex-SIL is having a baby girl tomorrow. She was supposed to deliver on Friday, had a cold, and had to reschedule her C-section. Keep her and baby Shane in your thoughts, please. My gramps believed that if you prayed 12 Hail Mary's, 12 Our Father's, and 12 Glory Be's on a Tuesday morning that nice things would happen. A new baby sure is a nice thing, prayers or not, don't you think?

Movies according to Courtney

Noelle's Movie Meme is out of my league. I haven't seen a whole lot of the movies on it, but Courtney at Yarn Tootin' made up her own list. I've seen more of these, so I'll bold the ones I've seen, italicize the ones I want to see, then I'm going to grade student stories.

Now in Theaters
Brokeback Mountain
Walk the Line Loved this. Even if it was a Hollywood version of Johnny's life, I loved it.

1960's
The Sound of Music Watched this at my bachelorette party with Brian.
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
Breakfast at Tiffany's My new blog name PoMo Golightly (to be unveiled someday) is named after this one.

1970's
Kramer vs. Kramer
The Goodbye Girl
Grease
The Champ
The Way We Were
Rocky
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

1980's
On Golden Pond
Big
E.T.
Amadeus
Tootise
Say Anything the quintessential love story of my teen years. Lloyd rocks.
Fletch
Hoosiers
Legal Eagles
Top Gun
Ferris Beuller's Day Off saw this NINE times in the movie theater. NINE.
The Breakfast Club
Sixteen Candles
The Mosquito Coast
Men Don't Leave
Dirty Dancing saw this one in the late 90's. I was in Australia the summer it was big and missed. Own it. No one puts Beverly in a corner. Got that?
St. Elmo's Fire
Dead Poet's Society
Field of Dreams
Steel Magnolias
Dances With Wolves was this the 90's?
Running On Empty
When Harry Met Sally back before Meg started scaring me.

1990's
The Cutting Edge
Dazed and Confused
Father of the Bride (1991) the original is funnier...
Four Weddings and a Funeral
Jerry McGuire
Quiz Show
Sliding Doors
Scent of a Woman
As Good as it Gets
Reality Bites
Good Will Hunting
Kindergarten Cop
The Man in the Moon
Muriel's Wedding
A Few Good Men
Sleepless in Seattle
Strictly Ballroom
Before Sunrise
American Beauty

Jennifer Aniston
Office Space
Bruce Almighty
Along Came Polly

Julia Roberts
Pretty Woman Babs's favorite movie. She owns it.
Erin Brockovich
Mona Lisa Smile I didn't!

Bill Murray
Meatballs
Groundhog Day
What About Bob?
Lost in Translation

Documentary
Spellbound
Supersize Me
Fahrenheit 9/11

2000's
American Beauty
Lost in Translation
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
In Good Company
Pay It Forward
Meet the Parents possibly the funniest movie I'd seen in a long time.
Meet the Fockers
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
Sideways
Saving Grace
Love Actually
A Mighty Wind
Garden State
Thirteen
Traffic
Miracle
Cinderella Man
40-year-old Virgin Surprisingly sweet.
Before Sunset
About a Boy
High Fidelity
Sweet Home Alabama
The Station Agent

So that's my take on Courtney's list. What's yours? I'll try to get up my courage to tackle Noelle's soon, too!

Jaycrawlin' to Bed

It's too late for me to drag out the camera and give you a picture, but while watching Must Love Dogs (yes, I'm a sucker for John Cusack in any and all situations--will any man achieve what Lloyd Dobler did?), I finished the heel flap, then turned the heel on my Jaywalker. I'm the gang's slow knitter, I'll be the first to admit it. C'mon, there's even a button for me. But I may very well have a sock done for the picture on Tuesday. Here's hoping.

Night.

Book Meme

I saw this on one of my UNM friend's blog:

Top 50 books from whatshouldireadnext.com - copy it, bold what you've read, italicize what you plan to read. And if I haven't marked something that you think is a great read, let me know! I'll add it to my post- MFA list.

The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger
The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy - Douglas Adams
The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J.K. Rowling
Life of Pi - Yann Martel
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story - George Orwell
Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
1984 - George Orwell
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - J.K. Rowling
One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
Slaughterhouse 5 - Kurt Vonnegut
Angels and Demons - Dan Brown
Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Neuromancer - William Gibson
Cryptonomicon - Neal Stephenson
The Secret History - Donna Tartt
A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess
Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
Snow Crash - Neal Stephenson
A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
Good Omens - Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman
Atonement - Ian McEwan
The Shadow Of The Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway
The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

If I Could Turn Back Time

It would be Monday again, and I'd be at my boxing lesson. And I would box better than I did. I would not flop my elbows out, I would not give my opponent a chance to zing me one. I would throw my jabs more quickly.

I saw Cher in concert, you know. She was like a Barbie doll with lots of outfits to show off.

Monday will be here soon enough. I have boxing gloves now, just little practice ones, but they look super cool. I don't hurt my hand as much with them on. Maybe all this shadowboxing will pay off. Maybe I'll keep my elbows where they belong.

I tried to watch Broken Flowers last night, but was too tired. Now my chance at it is over...only get 24 hours with Movielink. If I could turn back time. I would have waited to start that movie.

Jaycrawler progress: almost done with that heel flap. May even finish tonight if I get off the darn computer. By finish I mean the heel flap. NOT the sock!

What's the Deal with Blogging?

Noelle posted about someone talking trash about bloggers, knit bloggers in particular. While I tend to walk away from this sort of ugliness (the trash talking, to be clear), I do think that it's sort of a super ratty thing to grouse about. I agree with Noelle. Click your mouse somewhere else if you are not interested in what is going on in someone's blog.

I've learned so much from reading blogs, about knitting, about books, about cool sites to visit. Blog reading is a nice part of my day. I don't have a television. I haven't had one in 14 years, with the exception of the time I spend at Neal's house. Knitblogs are my entertainment, and to be frank, much more productive and interactive than television usually is. We all know I'm hopelessly hooked on Netflix-ing Sex in the City. But I get more out of keeping up with the projects my local girlys are working on and reading blogs like Whip Up.

Blogs give me a sense of community outside of my UNM graduate student world. Does this community replace real life for me? No, but it is a part of my real life. Here's some interesting reading about blogs. Those of us writing blogs do so for a variety of reasons. We know we're opening up our lives, the part of our lives that we as narrators choose to reveal, to anyone who stumbles by. Those who lurk, or who like to read blogs and comment but don't have their own do so for their own reasons (btw, stop lurking. Join the WBNM Posse on my frappr map. Just for fun.). Those who are just plain ol' snarky, but keep reading anyway...I, a woman of great imagination, cannot imagine why. What do you think?

How Do You Know When You're In Love?

I remember asking my mom that question when I was a teenager (lo, those many years). Her response has always stuck with me. See, Babs washes the Donald's hair in the sink each night. After cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, she pulls a couple of towels out of the linen closet and puts them on the table. She puts the nicer one (you know how there's always a more raggedy towel) on top, to be used by the Donald. That, she told me, is love. When you want the best for the other person. You know what else she told me? The Donald always switches them, so the nicer one is waiting for her. There may be other ways to define love, but that's the one I cherish. And, heck, they're going to celebrate 50 years of marriage before too long. I guess they oughta know.

Happy Valentine's Day, my loveys.

Short Story Sunday #5: Read and Discuss

I don't get a big thick New York Times delivered to my door. I read it online. I miss the Sunday Times, though, and although I could easily have the physical paper in my hands, I'm going to stick to the online version while I'm in NM. Because, you see, I take most of the day to read the physical version. Sometimes most of the week.

Since I spent much of this evening on homework and fretting by the phone, I thought Short Story Sunday could have an "I'm Five" diversion. Want to join? Read this article, then post a comment about a book club in your life...past or present. The good. The bad. The...you get the picture. Lurkers, this is a good time to participate. Don't make me call on you.

Here's my book club story. For 18 months in 2000-2002, I met with a group of friends--some of whom became friends through our meetings--each week to read James Joyce's Ulysses aloud. I had never read it and was determined to do so. We had the usual reference books to help us through, as well as the experience of a professor, lots of artistic folks, and a woman who grew up sharing a bedroom with her Irish gram. We rotated homes, always had good snacks, tried to meet in pubs (too dark and noisy), comforted each other after 9/11 (we met in Westchester. We knew a lot of people who suffered), celebrated New Years, birthdays, births, and anniversaries. We stopped meeting shortly after the book was finished. No one wanted to re-read it right away, and Portrait doesn't have the same "read me aloud" music to it. That group, Pam, Joel, Fred, Robert, Susan, Andy, Margie and me, plus the many drop in folks, has a bond that I feel for few other groups. Good reading. Good discussions. What more can you ask for?

New Anticraft is Up

Gee, a few days off the computer, and it's all exciting! The new Anticraft is up. Shall we explore? First off, kudos to the crew for dedicating the issue to those affected by cancer. Let's all think about those we know for a moment, ok?

Part of the fun of this issue is that it isn't all knitting. Gasp if you must, but let's be real. If you're a knitter, most likely you enjoy other crafts, too. But we'll start with the knitting. These socks would be a loving treat for any man. Like to cook? Try this recipe. I might try it without the chicken. I know Carole is going to make this. And while I'm not going to make this, I like the idea of a collage or diorama, or whatever you call it.

Other online fun...I came across this KAL. You know you've seen this bag, wanted, lusted, longed for this bag. Me too. While there are a few projects in line ahead of it, I joined the KAL so I'd be able to keep it in the front of my mind. I especially love the Mary Poppins button. She's one of my favorite characters. Possibly because my gramp and my oldest brother were chimney sweeps.

MP takes alot of yarn, though, and as you all know, I'm on a bit of a diet. Look: Weekend Getaway Satchel (Marta McCall)Reynolds Lite-Lopi (l00% wool; 109 yd [100 m]/50 g): #0005 black heather (MC), 15 skeins; #0434 crimson, 5 skeins; #0439 cherry red, #0414 burnt red, #0444 dark grass, #0240 golden green, #0435 goldenrod, #0443 bright blue, #0438 light fuchsia, #0436 pumpkin, #0442 royal blue, #0264 mustard, #0441 leaf (light green), and #0440 bright purple, 1 skein each. All colors are used double throughout. Yarn distributed by JCA Inc.

That's a lot of yarn, huh? So, I think this is going to be a summer '06 project.

ETA: My favorite knitting designer has a new pattern in the Spring Interweaves. Check it out. I want it.

FO and Waiting by the Phone

Is it wrong to embroider a onesie while watching Sex in the City? If it is, well I don't wanna be right! My ex-SIL is scheduled for a C-section delivery of her second daughter on the 17th, and I thought I'd play with this cutie poodle for a little gift. I like the fairly instant gratification of little embroidery projects. I'm such a slow knitter that I sometimes need the boost of a FO to keep me crafting.

There's snow in the NE, have you heard? I spoke with my cousin this morning and had a spark of glee when I heard that. Surely, I thought, Neal can't fly home in this. He'll have to find a flight tomorrow morning. But he's smart, my guy. He called me on my "yippee, it's snowing, I don't have to do my homework" attitude. If you grew up in a snowy region, you know what I mean. Well, if you grew up in the South or NM, it probably only took two flakes before school was cancelled. If you grew up in TN, a little rain seems to do the trick (so MB tells me).

So, after a few tears I admitted that he was right. Most likely, he would not be staying here that extra day. Now I'm waiting by the phone to hear he's safe and sound. Another hour or so. Fly safe, Delta plane, fly safe.

While I'm waiting, I may as well bask in the memories of our too short weekend. Dinner on my birthday (thanks, btw, for all the lovely wishes/cards/gifts) was yummy: rigatoni with artichoke hearts and lemon caper sauce. On Friday we bought paint for touching up a few marks on the walls and to FINALLY paint my closet doors (installed a year ago. Yup, I didn't once think I should tackle that myself). Friday night we met D&M for dinner at il vicino. At the risk of sounding all NY on you, it's the closest thing to pizza I've found in NM. After dinner we headed out to the UNM Works in Progress. My pals Carson and Allen both did strong readings, and then my teacher Dan made me laugh as I envied his skill. More important, he got Neal to want to read a short story. Neal's been begging off reading b/c of tired eyes, and this frustrates me. He went home with Dan's collection, How Animals Mate. My best birthday gift of all.

When we came home, Neal read the essay I'm working on for my CNF class. It was so great to be able to talk about my writing with him, to hear what he thought, to talk about all sorts of things. Sometimes phone dates just don't cut it. Face-to-face conversation with him reminds me how lucky I am to have him in my life. I'm gushing now. Sorry.

Saturday we returned to my puppy's home: Madrid, NM. I like going there, but it's starting to feel like Santa Fe South. I'm not such a fan of Santa Fe, can you tell? I bought myself an egg separator at Conley Studio Pottery. If you go to Madrid, stop in there to see some neat things. After a nap on Saturday (Neal painted closet doors, I napped), we found a little Albuquerque miracle: a beautiful meal. My girly Ramona's place Graze is worth a visit. Worth planning my next visit. Soon. Neal and I shared a Graze plate...such flavor! such perfection in portion size! Neal opted for a sea bass special, while I luxuriated in the wild mushroom orzo. With truffle oil...possibly my favorite taste of all time, and this, my dear reader, is my new comfort food.

Now...I'm waiting for the phone call that lets me know my lovey is home safe. How long until the end of May?

Drained, But Still Kickin'

I just got home from having my first creative non-fiction essay workshopped. I wrote about some things that have weighed on me for decades, some things that have been critical in how I see life. It was hard at times to listen to what people had to say. I have a renewed sense of direction, though, which is good.

I came home to find a letter from one of my neighbors urging me to take more of a leadership role in our Homeowner's Association Board. I'm on the Board, which I'm glad to do--I like to be involved--but I joined it with the explicit understanding that I COULD NOT take a leadership role. My instinct is to just do it, to make happen what needs to happen. But the fact of the matter is that I will be gone in May. What good does three months (two, really, as I'll be at conferences most of March) of leadership do? A bit of sticking my thumb in a dam, I'd say. I'm bitter right now. I sometimes feel like I give and give and then get asked to give more. Of course I can say "sorry, no." But in this situation, I'm feeling manipulated. The fact that I'm moving was used as a chip of sorts in this letter. As in, don't I want to make sure everything remains in order as I go to sell my place? Permit another moment of whining. I am about one responsibility away from collapsing into full-on freaked out mode. Ok. That's enough, Missy.

Countdown: 30 minutes until my big day. 16 hours until I pick Neal up at the airport.

PoMoGolightly

Noelle made the comment that she and her sweetie pie hubby had a conversation in which my name, Post Modern, and Audrey were all mentioned. That set me to thinking about the what-do-I-call-my-blog-when-I-move question. PoMoGolightly it is, then. I'm setting a new space up for myself, and I'll be sure to let you know when it's ready.

In Stitch and Bitch news (bring it Sew Fast, Sew Sleazy. I got a right hook to knock your socks off), there was a record 28 knitters at Flying Star tonight. Shout out to the girlys! Scout gave us our "business cards," so if I see you knitting, I'll slip you one as a private invite a la Gertrude Stein.

Since I know my readership is as vast as the stars in a New Mexican night sky, let me ask for help here. I KNOW that somewhere I saw a picture/schematic of how to properly measure for the One Skein Wonder. I lucked out and sized the one I made for my little cousin just right, but this one is for a swap, and I want to make sure it's perfect for the recipient. Anyone know where that is online? I wish I'd bookmarked it like I seem to do with everything else I find.

Neal Countdown: 40 hours to go! Gotta clean and stock the fridge and catch up on homework. The time will fly!

Boxing Hurts Your Hands

Just thought I'd let you know. Can't cry during my workout, but...ouchy! My fellow boxing student couldn't make practice today, so it was me and the Rev. I hit some good punches. Muttering nasty things about people I dislike helped a lot. And realizing that I'm ambidextrous when I box helped, too. It shows up in strange places. Do you think that explains my inability to remember left from right without thinking about it (really hard)? Damn, I got a good hook. Left or right. Gotta work on that upper cut, now.

I'm off to a hot shower. These bones are getting old. I'm proud of the bruise on my left knuckle (call me quaint, biatch) and the scrapes on both hands (take that, smirking student). I can't wait for next Monday.

Neal countdown: 65 hours. Woohoo!

Happy B'day Maddie Mulligan!

My little girly is two today. Well, her grandma decided this would be her birthday, because do you ever really know when you adopt a little pup? This picture is of us the day after I adopted Maddie.

Maddie is my first dog. Neal's Tilly, who loved me through a hard time in my life, was the first dog I ever REALLY knew, the dog who made me think I might want a puppy pal of my own. Less than a month after I moved to NM, lonely and sad, my sister MB sat outside of Pet Smart, holding my chai and not at all annoyed, while I fell in love with the divine Miss M. Her name is short for Madrid, my favorite town in NM. Her loving previous owner (who was moving and not sure she could take Maddie a.k.a. Tickle with her) and I spoke on the phone, and I learned that Maddie was from Madrid. X, her first owner, had found her tied by a shoelace to a telephone pole. As if that isn't awful enough, she had over 300 ticks and shards of glass in her. Life picked up after that...I adopted her mere hours after X, broken hearted, gave her up. She's living with Tilly and Neal in CT now, learning to be a more obedient girl, and cute as an effing button. I'm so in love with her, I can't imagine life without her, even if I'm 2,500 miles away from her. Sometimes I hear her singing for her supper (she LOVES her some supper!) during my phone dates with Neal.

For her birthday, she dug in the muddy back yard, then took a road trip to Auntie I's to visit her pal Romeo. Neal's promised a sliver of cheese for a special nighttime treat.

Mama loves you, birthday girl! xx

Superbowl Challenge

Scout threw down the Superbowl Challenge gauntlet, and who am I not to step up to the task? I'm a slow knitter, but I like the fun of seeing what I can get done while everyone else is enjoying the game. I made a pot of chili to bring with me, so I'll be well fed and happy to have company for the evening. I don't give a rat's patootie about who wins. Me, I'm a UCONN Huskies girl.

Short Story Sunday #4: "The Third Thing that Killed My Father Off" by Raymond Carver

“The Third Thing that Killed My Father Off” is told in the first person point of view in thirteen sections. Although the title uses the phrase “killed off,” the first line of the story sets up the tale as what “did in” the narrator’s father (198). The expectation that the narrator sets up is that this is a story about his father, but to my way of reading, it is a story about Dummy. More than the meaning of the story, though, I’m interested in looking at the construction of it. Carver writes in what I’ve heard called The New Yorker style. This isn’t so much about the language or plot or characters as it is about structure. The story is broken into sections, which show shifts in time and/or understanding of information.
The first section sets up the entire story. If Carver were sitting next to me, I might be satisfied with hearing the first section on its own as a whole story. Sure, there would be questions raised, but the narrative arc is all there. There are no surprises for the reader. We know Dummy will die. We know the things that “did in” the narrator’s father. We know there are problems with Dummy’s wife, with his fish, and we know that the father takes the blame about the fish, at least.Curious as I am, though, I want details. The story in section one doesn’t quite satisfy because the information raises too many questions. How does he die? What’s the deal with the wife? The fish? Why does this do in the father?
Despite the straightforward language and linear structure, I find this a difficult story to navigate. I’m left with a lot of questions, which I don’t mind at all, but I do wonder if these questions are the mystery of the story. What, exactly, was it about Dummy’s death that did in the father? I can make guesses, but ultimately I think that the answer, for us as well as the narrator, is unknowable.

Sometimes Pretty is Enough

Um, I posted and published, but the post has disappeared. So, sometimes pretty part deux.

Back in the 80s when I was younger than I am now, I would have identified my look as "vintage punk" or "thrift store punk." My prom gown was a swank black number from the 30s. I liked pretty with an edge. I still like that edge, although it's less about safety pins and irony than it used to be. Sometimes, though, all I want is to exude the class of Audrey Hepburn. Good luck, I know. Spring is in the air in Albuquerque. I promised Neal to go outside and look for buds on the trees. And spring, more than anything, makes me believe that indeed, pretty is enough.

Countdown

I'm cranky from not sleeping enough during the last ten days. I miss my guy. I miss my pups. I miss the East. So...even though I know I'll be saying how much I miss NM once I'm gone, this here countdown makes me miss Neal and the girls a little less...

Horoscope

I'm a sucker for Crazy Aunt Purl's horoscopes. Here's mine:

Would you like fries with that Quarter Pounder of Stress? Your commitments to school or work combined with the constant demands from your family and friends have you near the end of your rope this month. That urge to escape your life and run on autopilot is particularly strong near month's end. You might begin harboring serious fantasies of sitting alone on a mountaintop and pondering your navel. Take a deep breath, clear you calendar for at least one full day in February, and commit to some serious alone time before you become commit-able. You may long for a padded room ... but I hear that straightjackets make your butt look big.

Um, yeah. End of the rope. Maybe I'll take a day off in June. Sure.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Sure, I like February an awful lot. It's my birthday month. It's a short month, but it's jam packed with excitement. Including Sockapaloooza, which I dreamed about last night. I dreamt (see how I'm trying out both past tenses since our language is so plastic) that I got my sister MB as my giftee. Convenient since I promised her a pair of socks as part of her Christmas gift.

Today another beginning. The elegant, lovely Whip Up went live today.

And...the Neal countdown begins. Eight days. 192 hours, more or less.

Happy February!