Pimp My Dog

Whether a woman grants or withholds her favors, she always likes to be asked for them.
– Ovid

Ok, not my dog. J’s dog, Buddy:

He emailed me today to tell me about the Humane Society of the United States’ Spay Day pet photo contest. He submitted a picture of Buddy, and he asked me (and some other people) to vote for him. I did, of course, because how do you not love that face? He also asked if I would publicize the contest on my blog and urge you to vote for Buddy, and I am happy to oblige.

If you’re so inclined, please go here, enter Buddy in the search box using Pet Name as the search option and then click search (that part’s important; it doesn’t work – at least for me – to just hit enter). Then find the Buddy that looks like the one above – when I searched this way, J’s Buddy was the second one down in the first column on the left on the first page of Buddys – and click “vote for me.” (There’s an easier way, but I’m not comfortable giving you J’s last name so you can search by pet owner.) You’ll have to enter an email address because you can only vote for Buddy once, but they won’t send you any junk mail if you don’t check the box. It’s that easy!

J said something in his email about Buddy trailing a pitt bull by only 2500 votes. I say, no problem. Hit it.

ETA: Voting ends March 7!

Happy Belated Birthday to Me!

Sometimes cameras and television are good to people and sometimes they aren’t. I don’t know if it’s the way you say it or how you look.
– Dan Quayle

After much research and consultation with the people at Circuit City, my brother, and you commenter-types, I finally bought my very own digital camera! I went with the Canon Powershot A720. I had my eye on one that had a bit more zoom but was otherwise mostly the same, but chose this one because it has a viewfinder, which I think will come in handy on sunny days when the LCD screen is obscured by glare. The guy at Circuit City said the difference between the 6x zoom I got and the 10x the other camera had was not a big deal. I was hoping to score one with a tilting LCD screen, but they don’t make very many of them anymore, and the least expensive one was about $150 more than I wanted to (and could, reasonably) spend. Oh well.

Also, because this one was a bit cheaper than the other one with more zoom, I got the camera, a carrying case, a 2G memory card (on sale for the same price as the 1G), and a Duracell 4-battery rechargeable battery dealio for only $3.91 more than the amount I told myself I could spend (which, thanks to Aimee and Tim and my grandparents, was about $150 more than my original budget!)!

I got it yesterday and got it all set up. I don’t really know what to show you; I’ve only taken pictures of my cat so far, and that’s kind of boring. But he’s pretty handsome, so let’s take a look, shall we?

Hmm. I don’t really get why I have to resize all of these pictures (I had to do the ones from Houston too, which Aimee burned onto a CD from her camera). They’re HUGE, and I’m having to edit them in Microsoft Photo Editor to be 80-85% smaller than they are when I open them. I wonder why that is? Seems like they’re going to take up way more space on my hard drive than they should because of that.

Anyway, so that’s done, and I’m pretty excited about it. Thanks for all the advice and suggestions; it was very helpful!

Houston, Part 3 (Finally)

Let your memory be your travel bag.
– Alexander Solzhenitsyn

Ok here’s the final rundown:

Saturday, we went down to the Houston Galleria, a HUGE mall downtown. When I googled for that link, I discovered the Galleria is so famous, it has its own Wikipedia page. Awesome. You’re probably wondering why I had to fly 1500 miles to go to a mall, aren’t you? Well, this is why:

I don’t know if this picture does it justice, but this water wall is huge and water falls down both sides. It’s really something, and it’s next to the Galleria, so that’s why Aimee wanted to take me there. It was raining that day, so we didn’t get out and walk around, but I would love to go back and see it on a nice day.

The only other newsworthy thing that happened at the Galleria was this: gaggles of teen girls and boys dressed in what was, essentially, prom attire. You know, if your prom required white tie attire and multiple tiaras. And a court of girls in matching dresses. All with escorts in matching tuxes. There were no fewer than 4 sets of teenagers hanging around the food court, waiting to celebrate someone’s Quinceañera. I guess there’s a hotel attached to the mall, and I suppose the ballrooms were where the actual parties were, but they just wanted to walk around in public all dressed up to show off. At 15, who doesn’t?

A Quinceañera is a kind of coming out or coming of age for hispanic girls, and there’s always a big party to celebrate. Apparently in the wealthier part of Houston (and I assume other places in the U.S.), the girls get to dress up like princesses, make their friends all wear matching (but less pretty) dresses, and make the boys wear ties that match the birthday girl’s dress. I wish I had pictures of this, because it was UNreal.

The first group we saw was a set of twins in matching pink princess dresses and tiaras. Their “court” had on deep purple spaghetti strap dresses with pink ribbons around their waists. The boys wore black suits with pink neckties. In the next group, the birthday girl had on an even pinker, more princessy dress than the twins, but her court was in teal halter dresses, and the boys wore white (after Labor Day even!) with teal vests. You should have seen the way the girls in these two groups were sizing each other up. I was sure there was going to be a Sharks vs. Jets-style rumble in front of Chik-Fil-A.

The next group’s birthday girl wore deep red; it was really pretty. Her court had our favorite dresses – black strapless with white patterns. But the most outrageous, in my opinion, was the last group. If you didn’t know what was going on, and you couldn’t tell that the birthday girl was 15, you would have thought she’d just come from her wedding. She had on a strapless white dress with a big skirt, with a bustle in the back, a tiara, and a veil! It was crazy. Her escort was in all white as well, but her court was in wine red. Madness.

Sunday was my birthday, so Aimee took me out to lunch. We went to a place called Pappasito’s for Mexican. They make their own tortillas there, right in the middle of the dining room. Wanna see?

Here’s the whole thing:

And here’s the process. First, dough balls:

Then, SMASH:

Then, hang out on the spiral-y thing and cook a little:

Then, fall off the spiral-y thing and join your friends at the bottom:

Then, get in my belly! (No pictures available; we were too busy stuffing our faces)

As we were finishing lunch, the waitress came up and asked me, “Do you want us to sing to you for your birthday?” My response was, “Um, yeah!” I guess Aimee had told her when we ordered that it was my birthday (taking full advantage of my small hearing problem – I had no idea she’d done it, and I was right there when she did). So they brought over the purple (!) birthday sombrero for me to wear, and clapped to get everyone’s attention. The waitress announced that it was my 21st birthday, and Aimee captured my reaction to that bit of information:

Then we got to eat a brownie sundae, and it was good!

I flew home Monday, and I have to give Continental a shout out because not only did my flights to and from Houston leave on time, but they both arrived early! And the pre-flight video (the one that tells you where the emergency exits are) was subtitled – the first I’ve seen – which was a really nice thing to have. The movies were not, however, so you can’t win ‘em all, I guess.

I had a lovely time in Houston, and it was so good to see Aimee and Tim and meet Ben, and just relax and hang out for 5 days. When can I go back?

Houston, Part 2

A vision in white appeared . . . . Above it all was Angela’s face, beaming. Mattie felt as if the medics had arrived. . . . The women lay on their sides facing each other and talked all night, like homesick beings from another planet who had been living among earthlings far too long.
– from Blue Shoe, by Anne LaMott

Aimee and I have known each other for nearly 17 years. She’s my oldest and best friend, and when she moved to Texas, right after I finally moved back down to Virginia after three years away in law school, I was heartbroken. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to see her very often, that I would miss Ben’s birth and so much of his growing up, that I couldn’t just drive to her house if I wanted to . . . it was all very sad for me. I know, though, that she made a choice that was best for her little family, and I know she won’t always be so far away, and that makes it a little easier. Still, when I saw her car pull up at the airport on Thursday, I cried with relief that we were really together again.

I admit that I worried before I arrived that having Ben would have changed her so much, that all she’d want to talk about was him, that being so far apart physically would have pushed us apart spiritually, but I was glad to see that things weren’t all that different. Being a mother has definitely changed her, but she’s still the girl I remembered. We laughed so much, and talked a ton, but there were plenty of times where we didn’t talk at all, and that was ok, too. I think that’s a measure of a friendship – the way you can just be together without always needing to fill up the empty space.

Anyway, Thursday we didn’t do much (did we?), just hung out at home and went for a walk with Ben in the stroller. We ended up at a playground and I took a couple of spins on a good old-fashioned merry-go-round. So fun. I haven’t seen one of those on a playground in ages. You can thank lawyers for that.

Friday, we hit the Downtown Aquarium. It didn’t take long to get through it; in fact, I can show you everything worth seeing right now, ready?

Why do they have a boa at an aquarium? I don’t know. I guess it’s part of their “Adventure Exhibit.” Whatever, it was cool – he was so big.

Now, I don’t eat seafood, but from what I understand, lobster claws are some good eating. I bet this guy would be pretty meaty.

Next, at the “touch me” exhibit, there was a pool with some little sting rays and other small aquatic items that you could touch. I did not touch them. But, there was also a porthole underneath the pool so you could watch the critters from below. From above, it distorted your image:

Now, look, it’s an aquarium; it should have dolphins, right? I was expecting dolphins, and I don’t think that was unreasonable. There were NO dolphins. However, the “aquarium” (and now I’m using that term loosely) did have this:

No dolphins, that’s too much to ask. But white tigers? Sure, we got white tigers. Four of them, in fact. Whatever, they were cool, too. I’m just mad about the dolphins.

Finally, we braved the rain and made our way to the Shark Train:

The train took us around the outside of the aquarium and underneath the shark tank, so that the sharks were swimming above and around us. I know we were completely safe at all times, but it still was a little freaky.

After that, we headed home. On the way, we stopped so I could pick up a rental car so I could meet J for dinner later that night. Due to baby-related contingencies, I couldn’t borrow Aimee’s car, but when I saw what I got to drive, it was totally worth it:

2007 Mustang. I don’t know anything about the engine or how many horsepower it had, and I didn’t really like driving it all that much because the hood sat up so high I was always worried I was going to run into stuff, but I loved the way I imagined I looked in that car.

That night, I drove down to Rice Village to meet J and his wife for dinner. I’d never met her before, and I admit, I was a little nervous. I shouldn’t have been. She was lovely; so nice, and it was so great to finally meet her. Seeing J for the first time in 5 years, it didn’t actually seem like any time had passed, but it’s always been that way between us; we just pick up wherever we left off. He looks older, sure, but he looks more like himself than ever, I think. He’s obviously really happy, and that makes me glad. We had a good dinner at a nice Italian restaurant (I had jalapeño fettuccine with chicken and black beans and cilantro, and it was SO good), and good conversation. It’s funny: years ago I wrote something about J – a poem, probably – and at the end it said something like, “my wish for us is that one day we’ll be able to talk like the old friends we’ll be.” And that’s exactly how it was Friday night. It was really wonderful (and thanks for dinner, BTW).

I think one more post on Houston is going to do it; maybe I’ll get to it this weekend (I’m meeting Mo and Sharky in Richmond on Saturday – don’t be jealous, my invisible friends).

Oh, also: dentist tomorrow.

Did You Miss Me? (Or: Houston, Part 1)

There is a growing feeling that perhaps Texas really is another country, a place where the skies, the disasters, the diamonds, the politicians, the women, the fortunes, the football players, and the murders are all bigger than anywhere else.
– Pete Hamill

I’m back, and I have pictures, thanks to Aimee indulging my blogger whims and loaning me her digital camera! I almost bought my own while I was in Texas, but the 8.25% sales tax persuaded me to wait and get it here. There’s too much to tell, I think, for one post, so I’m going to split it up and see how it goes, and I’m exhausted today, so I’ll just start with this:

Things I Learned In/About Texas:

1. It is FLAT

2. There is at least one Sonic in approximately every square mile (we have plenty of Sonic commercials here, but I’d never actually seen a Sonic until I got to Houston)

3. They love gullies:

But a gully, despite the image it might conjure in your head, is really just a low-rent stream or a glorified ditch:

4. They also love donuts. I have never seen so many individual, independently-owned donut places in my life.

5. They have more car dealerships than you can shake a bundle full of sticks at. Driving down I-45 into Houston, you can buy any kind of car you can dream of.

6. I now love America’s Next Top Model. I had never seen it before and was sure it was inane and not worth my time, but Aimee Tivo’d one of the marathons on MTV, and I got so into it, I stayed up way too late last night just so I could see who won before I had to leave this morning. According to that link, a new “cycle” starts this week. I may be in trouble.

7. I may also need to get Tivo. It’s genius and I want it.

8. They have funny stoplights:

But they have normal “stoplight ahead” signs:

Go figure.

9. Without any sense of irony, George Bush Intercontinental Airport is less than a mile from Halliburton.

10. Young Benjamin is supremely handsome:

Happy Valentime’s Day!

Love is just a four-letter word.
– Joan Baez

By the time this is posted, I will be in the air on my way to Houston to visit my BFF Aimee, her husband Tim, and their new giant baby, Ben. I haven’t seen Aimee since just before she and Tim moved to Texas in September, and I miss her a ton. I’m so looking forward to meeting baby Ben; I can’t believe he’s five weeks old and I’ve never held him. I am staying until Monday, so hopefully he and I will have plenty of time to get acquainted, Aimee and I will will have plenty of time to catch up, and maybe I can even give them a chance to get out of the house together without the little one. Oh, also on tap: dinner on Friday with J.

Valentine’s Day has been my least favorite holiday since my freshman year in high school. For several weeks prior to that day that year, I had been talking to a guy, Jason, and it seemed we were headed toward dating. Then Valentine’s Day came, and with it came the deluge of flowers and candy delivered to the office which were announced over the PA system all freaking day (“The following students have deliveries waiting for them in the main office:  not Melanie.”). Even if your boyfriend went to our school, he was still supposed to have the stuff delivered to the office, not bring it to you at your locker that morning – half the appeal was having your name announced so that everyone knew you were part of a couple.

Now, I may have mentioned that I was a bit of a dork in high school, and all that stuff made me uncomfortable. I never expected Jason to get me anything, and I didn’t want him to think I did, and the easiest way to convey that, I thought, was to avoid him that day. So I did. In defense of my stupidity, however, he avoided me, too. And that was the end of that (except for the inevitable part where I spent the next, oh, two years “in love” with him, lamenting my missed opportunity).  And that’s the story of how Melanie came to hate Valentine’s Day.

Those of you who do celebrate, however, I hope you have a wonderful day. Those of you who, like me, are sometimes convinced that it is your destiny to end up the neighborhood spinster-cat-lady, well, for you I found this. I’m partial to the “Dejected” version – “peaked at 17″ killed me.

P.S. The one bright spot about Valentine’s Day this year: pitchers and catchers report today, which means baseball season is just around the corner! (I get my baseball info from Bugs and Cranks, and you can follow your team there, too!)

Monday Night Roundup

“Think as I think,” said a man ,
“Or you are abominably wicked;
you are a toad.”
And after I had thought of it,
I said, “I will, then, be a toad.”
– Stephen Crane, “Think As I Think”

I had a good weekend. I left work a little early Friday and came home and worked out, even though I usually take Fridays off. Didn’t do much that night, just watched a new episode of Friday Night Lights – that, if you don’t already know, is the best show on TV, and there are grumblings that NBC might not renew it for a third season, and to that I say: boo.

Saturday, I headed down to Richmond. Nate was going to take me out for my birthday, but he and Molly (my SIL) were both sick, so I took the kids to the Children’s Museum for an “extra-special day with Mel-Mel,” as the Princess called it. They had never been, and they had so much fun, if you don’t count the part where the Princess got whacked in the eye with a bucket by accident in the fossil digging sandbox. We took a tear-filled trip to First Aid and I had a minor aunt-freak out, worrying whether I should call Nate and if he’d be mad and if she needed to go to the hospital to get stitches and whether, if I didn’t take her to the hospital, she’d wind up scarred for life, literally. I decided it wasn’t that bad after all, and once we got back out there, she got distracted by all there was to do and soon enough, it was all forgotten. Whew.

I have to say, though, I don’t know how parents do it. I only had the two of them, and every 10 seconds I was sure I’d lost the Conductor forever because he was constantly running from one thing to another and I was trying to catch him but not lose sight of the Princess, and at the end of the day, I was exhausted, both from the running all over the place and the anxiety. Karen has four kids, so she does this on a bigger scale on a regular basis, and I think I would just die. My hat is off to you people and I am revising the number of kids I think I want downward.

We met Karen and baby Caroline for dinner at Friendly’s where we had possibly the worst service I’ve ever had at a restaurant, even considering that it was Friendly’s. I don’t stand for poor service – 40 minutes to get macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for the kids, without the waitress coming over once to check on us or let us know there was a hold up in the kitchen? Hell no. – so after speaking with the manager, who was an unprofessional mess, she agreed to take the kids’ meals off our tab. In the end, we actually only paid $10 for 4 meals, because she gave us our meals at half-price; a bargain to be sure, but it wasn’t worth the near melt-down of the Conductor who was so, so hungry (I had ordered their meals right away because I knew it was busy and I wanted to avoid just such a scene). The Princess was remarkably patient and well-behaved, and even leaned over to comfort the Conductor when he was crying. They’re such good kids. Conehead sundaes went a long way toward erasing the memory of waiting so long for dinner, and we all went home exhausted.

I hung out with the kids Sunday morning – they tag-teamed me and begged me to be “the Mel-Mel monster” or “the Kissing Monster” and we just generally goofed around. There is no place in the world that makes me happier than being with them. Things are just easy with them; I don’t worry about anything when I’m hanging out with the two of them. Would you like to see a picture of them? I thought you might:

(Nate said it was ok for me to post their pictures “as long as they get famous,” whatever that means. I think he’s jealous of my site view stats.)

When I got home yesterday, it was just the usual Sunday stuff – laundry and cleaning and whatnot. I ordered The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford on pay-per-view because I’m an awards show junkie and I’m trying to watch as many Oscar-nominated performances as I can before the show on the 24th (and yay – the writers’ strike is over, so the show WILL go on!). I thought it was well done, and Casey Affleck deserved his nomination. Then I watched week 2 of In Treatment on HBO InDemand, and was as impressed as I was with week 1. It’s quite an interesting concept, and Gabriel Byrne may be older than dirt, but he’s still hot.

Oh, before I forget: Those of you in D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, don’t forget to vote in the primary tomorrow! I’m not allowed to tell you who I’m voting for or campaign in any way for any candidate because of my job, but I do think it’s super-important to exercise your right to vote, so be sure to vote early and vote often. Oh, wait . . .

Pick My Birthday Present

You may send poetry to the rich; to poor men give substantial presents.
– Marcus Aurelius

It’s almost my birthday and I’m getting a fat tax refund check this year. No, I’m not blowing it all; in fact, nearly all of it is going to pay off my credit card. But I am saving about $200, give or take, to buy myself something nice. So far, I have narrowed it down to three things:

1. Food Saver (for a persuasive argument on why I need one, see here)

2. digital camera (I may be the only person in the world without one, and until now, I haven’t really wanted one, but blogging is more fun when there are pictures, I think)

3. scanner (this is the one I’m least familiar with – I really just want to scan old photos so I can save them on my computer, but space-wise, it might make sense to replace my old ink jet printer with a scanner/printer, but I don’t know what any of the technical terms mean, so it’s hard to know if I have my eye on the right thing)

So, thoughts? Brand suggestions? Things to beware of or look for specifically? Any other ideas? All advice is appreciated!

Brothers and Sisters

To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time.
– Clara Ortega

Today is Nate’s birthday, so I thought I’d tell you a little bit about him. He is two years and twelve days older than I am, and so as far back as I can remember, he’s been part of my memories. Early on, we had what can politely be described as a shitty childhood. Details aren’t necessary, I don’t think, but I will say that, being older, he got the worst of it, and to this day it makes me cry to think of it.

When our dad got us out of that situation, we were (I think – Nate would know better) 3 and 5, and we had to be separated for a while, because my dad couldn’t take care of us both while he finished college. Just after I turned five, and my dad met the woman who is now my mom, we finally got to be together again, and we stayed that way until we went our separate ways after college 16 or so years later.

We did not always get along growing up, and the number of times one of us got in trouble for something the other did are too numerous to count, as are the number of times we combined our powers to make extra-mischievous mischief. But even more numerous are the times I’ve seen him stand up for me, take care of me, do something nice for me, or just be there for me.

• He never acted like he didn’t know me in the hallway in high school, despite his being much more popular than I was and the embarrassment I must have caused him with my constant, unrequited crushes on his friends.

• He bought me beer when I was underage.

• Once, when I was learning to drive stick and he already knew how, mom gave me the keys when Nate and I were going to the movies. I knew he was pissed and that he’s prone to mumbling under his breath, and so before I pulled out of the driveway I said, “I would appreciate it if you’d talk to me nicely when I do something wrong,” and he did, and I learned to drive stick.

• When I lost my hearing, he was the first frantic phone call I made that morning – even though he was in North Carolina.

• When I got my wisdom teeth out, I was disoriented coming out of the anesthesia. They put me in a recovery room with a sign over the door that said, “How did I get in here?” which made me cry because I didn’t know how I got in there. Nate was in the room when I told the surgeon why I was crying, and when the surgeon laughed at me, Nate yelled at him.

• Before the Princess (my niece) was born, he made sure they bought a baby monitor that lit up when there was noise, so that I would always be able to baby-sit without worrying I wouldn’t know when she needed me.

In my family, I sometimes get a lot of attention because of my hearing loss and because I went to law school and passed the bar, and blah blah blah. I think he is often overlooked, and that makes me sad. He’s been married to an amazing woman for five years and they are the parents of the two funniest, most beautiful kids I know, the Princess and the Conductor, who are three-and-a-half and two, respectively, and who I adore beyond all reason.

I look at the four of them and I feel such gladness that he found such happiness. He is an excellent dad and a very devoted husband, and there are times I’d trade everything I have accomplished for what he and the missus have together.

He’s struggling right now, but I hope he knows that it won’t always be like this, and that the things he does have are priceless. Happy birthday, Bubba. I love you.

(If this post had a soundtrack, it would be this song.)

Super Bowl Sunday

If two hitherto rival football teams, under the influence of brotherly love, decided to co-operate in placing the football first beyond one goal and then beyond the other, no one’s happiness would be increased.
– Bertrand Russell

Three posts in three days? What is going on here? Don’t get used to this. I just had to post today in case I’m right: Giants 27, Patriots 20. I’ll pause while you laugh.

I love an underdog, and the world will never hear the end of it from sanctimonious Pats fans (not you, of course, Julie) if they take the whole thing, and I really, really don’t like Bill Belichick. Or cheaters. But that is neither here nor there, is it?

Plus, Peyton Manning is going to marry me just as soon as he’s done being married to his wife, and it would surely make for some awkward Thanksgiving dinners down the line if it comes out that I didn’t root for my soon-to-be brother-in-law.

I just made a batch of this, and it is really good, so I thought I’d pass it along if you still need another snack for this afternoon’s parties:

Homemade Salsa (about 3 cups)

1 1/2 pounds tomatoes (about 4 medium), chopped
1/4 c. loosely packed, fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 c. red onion, finely chopped
1 T. lime juice
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl until well mixed. Cover and refrigerate up to two hours if not serving immediately.

Per 1/4 c.: 15 cal., 0g fat, 1g protein, 1g fiber, 0mg cholesterol

Enjoy! Go Giants!

Edited to add:

Holy bananas! That was, hands down, the best Super Bowl game I’ve ever seen. It took everything the Giants had to hang with the Patriots, but in the end, they pulled it off! Unfreakingbelievable! When Eli escaped from that sack and Tyree came down with the ball, I knew it was truly possible. That was amazing!

My favorite part now is watching all the commentators – who, this morning, were speaking in terms of “when” the Patriots win the Super Bowl – scramble to explain how this could have happened.  It’s easy: they don’t say “any given Sunday” for nothing.  And when no one expects you to win, you’ve got nothing to lose.

Congratulations to the Giants!