Porch Scene

So, I've been bragging on the porch. Since I enjoyed it so much again this weekend, I thought I'd show it off a little. My digital camera isn't the best, but you get the idea. Y'all pull up a chair and stay awhile.

Y'all Help Me Out Now

Please, kind readers, help me bring Bradley Whitford back to television. I've been a little distresssed since The West Wing wrapped last year. I mean, I know Josh Lyman and Donna Moss are in some alternate TV universe making cute little political babies. But, I need my Bradley Whitford. He's unconventionally handsome - or maybe just so quirky that he's really attractive. Tune in to Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip tomorrow night at 10 on NBC. Also in store - Amanda Peet's first non-topless role in years.

FutureSex/LoveSounds: A Review

So the other day when I went to purchase the new John Mayer CD, I noticed that the new Justin Timberlake CD was on sale for $9.99. And since I had already shown him my boobs, I figured I should at least buy his CD. I already knew I liked "Sexy Back," but I was surprised by my response to the rest of the CD. You should also purchase this CD if you...

...are the kind of person who thinks that other people don't enjoy their time in the car enough.

...are not embarassed by letting your bass thump a little and succumbing to the urge to do a bit of behind-the-wheel dancing.

...enjoy a good dance mix while cleaning the house (i.e. like to shake your booty while swishing out the toilet).

...sometimes dance around your house like it's American Bandstand when no one is home.

...during said private dance parties, you think, "I am a REALLY good dancer."

...have ever (also during said private dance parties) danced on one or more pieces of furniture in your house.

...think Justin Timberlake is hot.

Seriously, y'all. This album's pretty good. I give it two boobs up.

Sad Mac

For those of you who are PC/Windows users, you can't possibly know the fear inspired by the appearance of the Sad Mac. The Sad Mac is the agent of ultimate destruction in the Mac universe - the CyberAngel of Death, if you will. And today at work, the Sad Mac descended on my computer in the form of a blank gray screen. Despite attempts to revive from the startup disk, the Sad Mac persisted in the form of a red error message that the Mac Pro told me indicated a hard drive problem.

Unfortunately, our backup system has been down since we've been in the new office. Meaning I've potentially lost everything since May. The Mac Pro told me that data recovery was "ify" but I overnighted my little eMac to him anyway. It was all too reminicent of the Sex & the City episode where Carrie's Mac crashes and the tech guy says, "You saw the Sad Mac? That's bad." And, like me, she had no backup. But unlike me, she had great Manolo Blahnik shoes to ease her pain.

Make It MINE

I just went to Bravo's Project Runway site to get a picture of Kayne so I could post a little post to say farewell to this season's best queen. That ribbon was heinous, but I still loved him in all his flamboyant glory. Instead, I found the Tim Gunn bobblehead. HOW MUCH do I need this for my desk at work?

Math is Fun

I discovered this site when it was listed as a Blog of Note. It's called Indexed and it's little mathematical charts and graphs that depict funny truths. Now, I'm not a mathematician - in fact I probably wouldn't have passed any of my high school math classes without having sat in front of the very smart Josh Phillips. But this is the kind of math I can get behind.

Days Gone By

Today I met with a man who was born & raised at the beach. He's a historian by hobby, and he has been collecting historic photographs from family, friends and other locals for a long time and assembling them into a historic photo essay of sorts. He's about 80, white-haired, brown-skinned. He was waiting for me to arrive, standing on the porch that faced the main thoroughfare of the island. He invited me to sit in a rocking chair on his back porch and chat for a bit before we took a look at the photos I was hoping to use for an ad series. We sat looking out on the waterway on a perfect afternoon - breezy, 83 degrees, zero humidity. He told me a little bit about his childhood and how the house he grew up in caught fire in '74 and took his father and he rebuilt in '78, retired in '85 and how his wife had just died two years ago so it's just him and his cat named Schooner.

When we looked at his photos together, he talked about each of them as a man who is profoundly devoted to place. He described riding the trolleys from downtown to the beach, stopping at Station 1 at the beach to get a soda and watching nickleodeons at the downtown theater. He remembers when no cars traveled over the main bridge. When the 200-room hotel burned to the ground in the 50s, he stood across the channel on the mainland and watched as bits broke off and caught the whole north side of the island on fire.

It was fascinating to know another part of this place that I know in my own way. To see for an afternoon how he has grown old as the island has grown up and developed around him in his little waterway-facing cottage. As I drove over the bridge, I thought about my history with the place. And something about the air and the light and the time of year reminded me of when Kim, Hoang-Anh & I drove out to see the sunrise in the early months of our first year of grad school. Those are some of the first pictures I took when I got here. And I couldn't help feeling as nostalgic as the old man for the memory of the way it was.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

I had a dream last night that I went to a Justin Timberlake concert topless. I've never been to a Justin Timberlake concert. And I've never been to a concert topless. I was trying to keep covered, but whoever I was with (who was a friend but a vague nonspecific dream friend) was like, "Don't cover up. He's looking at you! We'll be able to get backstage!"

But I'm still trying to cover up and Justin Timberlake comes over to us and is all, "Whoah! Whoah! I gotta see this! Lemme see!" And so I showed him my boobs. And he invited us to go backstage. He was very nice. I quickly relaxed about being topless. As though it was okay with me if it was okay with Justin Timberlake.

HOW WEIRD is that?? But hilarious. Definitely hilarious. Especially that moment where I just held out my arms and was like, "Here are my boobs, Justin Timberlake."

The Good Stuff

After a somewhat scary experience converting to Blogger Beta, I decided to embrace its new qualities. I'm not as daring as Kim, who gave The Unwilling Adult a blog-lift. But I did go through and tag all my posts so that if you likey one you can find the others like it. I realized going through that I had a lot of complaints on the blog. So in an effort to give you something uplifting in lieu of the traditional negative fare, I give you the following list of good things about the weekend:

* New haircut (that I still like today) * Two books read * Much quality time spent with Kudzu (who very much enjoyed having his belly rubbed) * Finished Season 5 of Sex & the City * Did not eat out once but cleaned out some leftovers and saved money * Had a delicious red apple after dinner * Watched less TV this weekend than I can remember in a long time * Had lovely walk to church and back this morning * Enjoyed back porch reading once again * Felt kindly toward neighbor who was also on his back porch and playing classic rock loudly * Wished Mom & Dad happy 39th wedding anniversary * Talked to the parents-to-be about baby books * Vowed to have better attitude about work than in recent days * Laughed out loud at least twice while reading * Took a nap

Stacks & the City

Today I decided to walk down to the library to pick up a few books. I love being in a library, walking up and down the rows of books, checking their spines and admiring cover artwork. The smell of pages. The comforting silence. Today was no different, and I only wished I'd given myself more time instead of having to head to the desk 30 minutes before closing time.

On the way home, I was thinking about the city. I complain about it from time to time, but on days like today, I realize how much I like it. It was one of those days that's still summer but trying to be autumn. I can't wait for the cold breeze to start blowing up from the river. And just this morning, I was talking to Crazy J. about how many lovely porches there are in the city. Cobblestone streets. Church spires. An admirable skyline. I love seeing the columns on City Hall and the clock tower of the old courthouase as I cross Third Street.

Inspired by all that, I sat on my back porch this afternoon in one of the rockers and read a book from cover to cover. I left the door open so Kudzu could come out and chew on some of the vines that creep up the wrought iron. At particular moments, the huge air conditioner that cools the county building across the street would slow to a stop and the traffic noise would quiet and I could hear the breeze and the leaves rustling and, later in the evening, the crickets. And all in all, it was a fabulous Saturday.

Who Could Ask for Anything More?

Today, another visit to my hairstylist, Crazy J. I know, I know. I complained about the length of my hair after my last cut, so one might wonder why I'm going back six weeks later. But I wanted it to grow out a little before Jenn's wedding, and I knew if I just let it go until right before the wedding, it would be ratty mess. Besides, what better way to start your Saturday than with a hilarious gay man who tells you how fabulous you are? I mentioned the wedding, and he said he was going to do a little showing off so that whoever did my hair for the wedding would be impressed with his "technique." I love that my trim took an hour and a half and that he insisted that today was a day for rock star style. I'm convinced that it's impossible to leave his chair without feeling like I should be headed for Vogue. So I say again, who could ask for anything more?

List of Items Preventing Weight Loss

* Remaining 26 Starbursts on the coffee table

* Vase filled with Dove Milk Chocolate squares (also on the coffe table)

* The couch

* Two unopened cans of Pringles (Regular & Salt & Vinegar)

* Sort of stale Chex Mix that I plan to crisp in the oven

* Pint of Haagen Daz Strawberry Ice Cream in the freezer

* Cable TV

* Almost-finished bag of Tostitos Scoops

* Buy-one-get-one-free Nestle Quik Chocolate & Strawberry Milk

* 17 beers leftover from this weekend

* Bag of Snack Size Oreos

* 2 unopened bags of cookies that I forgot to offer guests this weekend (Fudge Stripes and Chips Ahoy!)

* Seemingly unlimited supply of Hershey's Miniatures at the office

* Sam's-size container of Atomic Fireballs in the conference room

* Kudzu (who sets a very bad example of general laziness)

Will hereby commit to taking at least one walk this weekend (not including walk from couch to bathroom or couch to fridge). Otherwise will have to start buying elastic-waist pants so that I will stop outgrowing sizes at current pace.

We Need to Talk About Your TPS Reports

For the last three days, I've been stuck in our conference room from 9 to 5 in software training. I'm not absolutely sure, but I think that we might now be on the road to TPS reports. After watching what this system can do, I'm almost certain that it's going to become the Office Big Brother. Responsibility for micromanaging will now be transferred to this nebulous internet portal that can report on each employee's individual productivity and profitability, both of which may now be directly tied to our bonuses and raises. Not that I think it's that outrageous to base raises and such on performance. It's just that this is another excuse for the blinders to be put on and focus put entirely on two little numbers generated by a computer system rather than people. I'm not going to quit my job. But I'm thinking that I just might not go back.

Who's With Me?

Potter fans, is this what you thought Tonks would look like? This is one of the first casting choices made in the Potter films that I think is totally off base. She looks much older than I pictured Tonks. And the hair..is...somehow wrong.
P.S. In a recent statement to the press, Pope Benedict XVI's senior exorcist announced that Harry Potter is the "signature of the king of darkness." Is this really the only thing the Vatican has to worry about right now?

Why You Gotta Be So Mean to Me?

Dear U.S. Air:
I know all you airlines have fallen upon hard times lately. Could be due to the outrageous price of flights. I'm just sayin'.

But since you're keeping up with the gas prices, you might like to keep up with technology, too. I mean, I'm not the world's most tech-saavy person, and I'm using Mozilla Firefox, so maybe you should upgrade your site to be friendly with it. When I was trying to book flights to my friend Jenn's wedding, I got to that page where all my flights were showing and I was inputting names for the tickets. This all sounds very simple to you, I'm sure, but as I'm flying out of a small airport into an airport that doesn't have any of the carriers that are flying out of said small airport, figuring out the connecting flights and when would be enough time to arrive (because, you know, there's always a chance that one of your airline pilots will oversleep or leave his pilot's license in his other pants and delay the flight), I'm thinking I might need to get another degree before I can book this flight. But there I was. Departing and return flights all ready to book. And it wouldn't let me select seats for the flights.

Now, for some people, this would be okay. But I don't like people. Especially people I don't know. I live in fear of those people who choose to ignore the indulgent copy of In Style that I purchased at the airport kiosk and proceed to tell me about their trip to visit their grandchildren. An airplane is just one of those places that all my humanity goes out the window. I don't care. I don't want to talk to you. We are not friends. And by the way, I'd like to sit with my boyfriend instead of Grandma Moses.

Luckily, my boyfriend is much smarter than I am and offered his laptop and the use of Internet Explorer, which, apparently, is a-okay with you. I finally completed my itenerary, seating chart, credit card information, my mother's maiden name, my first address, the first word spoken by my great grandmother's uncle's wife, ecetera, ad infinitum. So I really appreciate that after all that, I have to accept the terms of a carry-on bag no larger than 15" x 9" x 11". Awesome. I have purses that are bigger than this. I can hardly wait until we meet again.

Ciao,
Ash

On the Placement of Ohio

I'm wondering who I might petition about the placement of the state of Ohio. I know some Ohioans enjoy the proximity to Canada, but, if it were closer to, say, North Carolina, there would be the allure of the beach and the mountains. Everybody loves the beach and the mountains. And, as evidenced by the past weekend, some very important things are being prevented by the distance between these two states. For example:

* There is less modge-podging going on. And frankly, the world needs more thinly spread glue over pictures of Mr. Big and Dwight Schrute cut out of magazines.

* Improptu live concerts of "Me & Bobby McGee" and "Rockin' the Suburbs" are at an all time low.

* Krispy Kreme consumption is limited to late night, end-of-trip runs.

* The discovery of the wine cubes available at Target might have been prolonged even further.

* Less money is put into the North Carolina economy during shopping trips that involve buying accessories and clothes "just because" and I might never have purchased that great green tunic shirt.

* Not as many people know the joy of Old Time Pottery - where you can purchase a small bamboo rug, four drinking glasses, a hamburger flipper, two 6 x 8 pieces of art and a kitchen timer shaped like a chicken all for the bargain price of $18.75.

* Opportunities for great films such as "Justin Recounts a Bar Fight" and "Tom & Dave Talk Anchorman" go unrealized every day.

In conclusion, if I had a million dollars, I'd move Ohio.

Break Out the Cigars!

IT'S A BOY! Justin is, at this very moment, planning to plow under their backyard and build a baseball diamond. And I'm already thinking about all the things that my little nephew needs - first on the list is the sterling silver frog musicbox in the Kingoff's Jewlers window that I've been dying to buy since I found out they were pregnant. I'm SO EXCITED! Ten fingers and ten toes have all been accounted for by the proud papa-to-be. I'm awaiting the ultrasound photos now. Hurrah for my nephew!!

P.S. I know this is a cigar label, but it was so cute, I just couldn't resist.

More Mayer!

I've been dying for some new music from an artist I really love. And while I've been complaining about the new Killers album being delayed until October, little Johnny Mayer's been putting together another solo album. I feel a little shamefaced that I didn't know about this coming up until today. But all the better. No waiting involved. It drops next Tuesday. Check out the video for the first single "Waiting for the World to Change".

Continuum by John Mayer
1. Waiting On The World To Change
2. I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You)
3. Belief
4. Gravity
5. The Heart Of Life
6. Vultures
7. Stop This Train
8. Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
9. Bold As Love
10. Dreaming With A Broken Heart
11. In Repair
12. I'm Gonna Find Another You

Sprout Vote

Just a quick update. We have two votes for boy and one vote for girl. Two votes for either. I'll hear something tomorrow morning. I'm going to throw my vote in the ring. I think it's a girl. I don't really care one way or the other. As I said, I can spoil both equally. Justin called and asked me if he needed to wait to call me after work or if it would be okay to call me during work. Silly boy. I'm taking my phone into staff meeting!

Dear Departed Ernesto:

A final word to you Ernesto. I know we had our differences, and at one point, I even said we couldn't be friends. I'm sorry about that. You know, it's been a bad week, and I know that's no excuse to behave badly, but you have to admit that you were threatening some pretty impolite behavior.

In the end, though, it's T-minus two hours til Kim Shable's arrival, and you've left behind some beautiful, refreshingly cool, early fallish weather. So, Ernesto, please consider this the olive branch. Let's kiss and make up. I hate to think you're somewhere out in the Atlantic feeling badly about yourself.

Love,
Ash