A Void at the end of the Tunnel

For the past few years I have been feeling a bit at a loss without a new Harry Potter book on the horizon. It has been almost 3 years since I stood in line to purchase my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I wanted to read slowly, but the 784 pages, even as they ticked past bringing me closer and closer to the end, were too tempting to put down. In one marathon session, I holed myself up in my room and walked the plank. Since that July day, no book has held me so firmly in it's grip and I had feared none ever would.

Not long ago, a friend of mine (thanks, Cis) mentioned how much she had enjoyed The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. She read the first and second books of the trilogy over the course of one weekend. It was a fascinating concept, a dystopian future society that requires child-sacrifices each year and reveles in viewing it on live television. "Survivor" meets "American Gladiators" but with real weapons, not NERF balls and you don't get voted off, you die.

(Harry Potter Spoiler Alert)

On her recommendation, I picked up the first book. When I got it home I began reading. From 7pm to 1am I didn't stop. It wasn't Harry Potter but it was fascinating and I was hooked. I even wept for one character nearly as much as I had for poor Dobby.

Unlike Hogwarts, Panem isn't a place you want to visit and there are no Ron Weasleys to lighten the load. Rawling started out with lightness and humor, only getting truly dark in the last few books. Collins, on the other hand, plunges readers directly into her dark and damaged society, and rarely lets us up for air.

The book is not without it's faults. The writing is okay, but where J.K. Rowling's over-use of adverbs had once driven me mad, Suzanne Collins' odd apostrophes are now giving me a conniption. I love it anyway. A week later I got the second book, Catching Fire, and finished it nearly as quickly. I am now eagerly awaiting the final chapter, due out on August 24th this year. It is good to have something worth waiting for, but what will I do on August 25th?!

The Nothing

In "The Neverending Story" The Nothing is a thing that destroys everything and leaves nothing. For a better description, you can view this:

Last night, The Nothing came to my room. I was reading before bed and Turtle (my smarter cat) sat straight up and stared directly at my ceiling, right where my light is. The light was not on and there were no strange, moving shadows. Turtle continued to stare for a good five minutes as I tried to figure out what she was seeing. I imagined spiders, centipedes, etc. It was The Nothing! The Nothing took five minutes of my life and turned it into nothing. When Turtle finally broke her vigil, she simply turned around and rubbed her cheek on the corner of my book as if she hadn't just been staring intently at nothing.

And now, The Nothing has struck you!

New Nail Polish

I bought my new Spring/Summer nail polish over the weekend and this is what I got. It is Revlon "Gray Suede" and was advertised with a picture of Jessica Biel. I think I like it, but it goes from looking down-right mauve, to beige, to a fleshy pink depending on the light. I'll stick with it despite Jessica's endorsement.

Super-evolutionary Me!

Today was "Root Canal: Part Deux". It was to be the final installment in my tooth decay saga. I have turned over a new leaf; I floss daily. Alas, it was not to be. No crown for this princess' tooth. Instead, my dentist found a mysterious fourth canal.

For those of you uninitiated into the root canal process, molars (like the one I was having roto-tilled), have 3 canals. That's why they take longer than those incisors and other mono-canaled teeth.

My dentist was working alone for most of today. No dental assistant. From what I saw, you need to be an octopus to do this, but she managed quite well. She commented on the petiteness of my canals (I assume all canals are pretty small, but mine must be extraordinarily so). We were winding down when she came across the aforementioned fourth canal. We had to take X-rays and, in true Norma Desmond fashion, I was ready for my close-up. A root canal expert was brought in and with much pushing of my jaw, confirmed that I was indeed a freak of nature.

Once the expert left, my dentist informed me of the result. I had to schedule another appointment. On the bright side, she referred to me as "super-evolutionary". Ladies and gentlemen, you are reading the thoughts of the next step in human evolution. I have glimpsed the future and it is more complex dentistry!

Flowers

I got flowers at work last week for "administrative support day" or "wonderful secretary day" or whatever it was. I also got chocolate. The flowers were pretty and I had them placed strategically on my desk, by the window and my phone.

I will have to ask my mom to forgive me, as this post will get a little crude in a moment. Sandy: read no further.

The chocolate was great, I even shared some. The flowers looked nice and fresh this morning. However, a couple of times today, I turned my head only to get a whiff of what smelled like fart. Now, I work in an office where that just isn't an issue and I couldn't figure it out. My fear

was that someone else might smell it and cast suspicion upon me!

This went on until about 3pm, when I finally figured out that although my flowers looked fresh, they smelled like death. Needless to say, they went into the garbage and as far as I can tell, no one's suspicions were aroused.

Note: the flowers pictured here are just a representation and are in no way associated with the story above.

Facebook Game Guilt

I don't know how it happened, but I have become a prisoner to Facebook Games. This has resulted in much guilt on my part. Before I go on, let me make one thing clear: I do not spend any money on these games, just oodles of time.

My guilt is centered around two specific areas.

1. Guilt about the "animals" for which I am responsible. These pixilated fish, sheep, geese, (even a treasure-bearing seagull), etc. elicit my pity when I haven't been by to feed them in a day. I have seen the damage caused by neglect (Kathryn) sad, dying, or dead imaginary animals. It is just inhumane!

2. Guilt about subjecting all my "friends" and some of my friends to this insanity. I want to post that i've found suchandsuch an object or reward, but I know many couldn't care less and are even annoyed by these inane announcements. On the other hand, I want, I need those prizes!

I could end it all now virtually painlessly but then what would I do with those 5 minute chunks of time? Contribute to the bettering of society? Or, perhaps, post even more inanity here!

It is called fiction for a reason

So my good friend Kathryn sent me this link the other day. It is awesome and I have been reading other funny stuff on that blog. This post isn't so much about the blog as it is about one comment in particular.

A commenter basically said people shouldn't kill spiders because of "Charlotte's Web". This is ridiculous! That spider may have saved Wilbur's life, but pork products are delicious and spiders are gross. Also, the idea that spiders can talk makes them that much scarier.

I saw a pretty small spider in my bathroom yesterday, freaked out, debated with myself about an appropriate weapon, found a Land's End catalog with which to kill it, freaked out again at the prospect that i might miss it thereby causing it to fall into the tub where I was standing.

This dance went on for a couple of minutes. Needless to say, I survived. The spider didn't. I doubt any pigs went to the slaughterhouse as a result.

No. 1 Stada Baba aka "the Bubs"

This is my grandmother, fondly called "Baba" by most everyone under the age of 50 (and some over it) who knows her.

She has always been feisty, and one of her favorite activities was watching my brother's High School soccer team.

There were times when her heckling of the other team and the refs made my family think she would be banned from the stadium. This never happened, but her Red Card worthy exclamations were the bane of my mother's existence and the delight of all the Braves' soccer fans who were not related to her.

America the Beautiful and my dad the artist

My father was so proud of himself for these images. Click on the squirrel to see the river in his eyes and crystals of ice on his muzzle. When the photo was taken, the squirrel was taunting my parents' dog, Daisy. You can almost smell the mischief.

His only regret (concerning the video) was that my mother had to cut it down by a minute in order to send it to my brother and me. Can you imagine how much MORE wonderful it would have been with an additional 60 seconds of footage?

Spooky

Just over a week ago I met Laurie Notaro at a book reading here in Chicago. She was very funny. I got a copy of her new book signed and spoke with her for a minute. She insisted that she had met me before. I assured her that she hadn't. We decided it was our curly brown hair that made me familiar to her and, almost in sync, we said we see each other in the mirror every day.

Now I'm really wishing I had taken a camera so I could post a photo. Well, you can just picture a 5'11" supermodel with great hair and lithe figure. Next, picture her standing next to a very similar supermodel. For accuracy, place them in a bookstore and give them both glasses. Got it? Good. Now (keeping the setting and glasses) picture the opposite and you should be pretty close.

Why Stada Baba?

My family, like many others, has always had words or phrases that we've used which are all but incomprehensible to others. Stada Baba is one such. It is basically an old lady and comes from my mother's Serbian side of the family.

I may not be a Stada Baba chronologically, but psychologically I think the label may fit.