Vacation, all I ever wanted....

Evidently my enthusiasm for blogging and regular posting got tiresome, so I’m back to the monthly updates. Ah well. So what’s been up in the World of Beth? Here’s the lowdown:

I was off work for a week, with no plans whatsoever. Lesson learned from that? BETH NEEDS TO MAKE PLANS. Otherwise, she finds herself taking 2 naps a day, reading for hours at a time, eating cold cereal, shuffling into the shower around 6 p.m. and then staying up until the wee hours watching “What Not To Wear” and feeling superior because at least she doesn’t wear acid wash jeans or kitty sweatshirts. Repeat this activity for seven days and you get the idea.

I have been reading like a madwoman! Well, that’s not quite accurate. More just like a person that actually reads. In the past three weeks I’ve tackled In Cold Blood, Bel Canto, The Curious Incident of the Dog In the Night-time, Fraud AND the latest copies of US Weekly, InStyle and Real Simple. Get me!

I’ve become a houseplant whore. I get like this every spring. Four new additions to my household – including a cyclamen, which sounds to me more like an antibiotic than a plant name.

Old Versus Never Old: The Battle

Things That Never Get Old While You're On Vacation:

1.) Hearing your neighbors' front doors close at 7:30 while they're on their way to (hee hee) WORK and you're still snuggling in your warm bed.

2.) Spooning with Mrs. Puff

3.) That Dog Whisperer show with Ceser Millan on National Geographic.

Things That Get Old Really Quickly While You're On Vacation:

1.) Those blasted telemarketers that keep calling.

2.) Spooning with Mrs. Puff and not, say, Philip Seymour Hoffman or Luke Wilson or Heath Ledger or Jake Gyellenhaal.

3.) Dial-up Internet access.

Party up, Dudes, in Liechtenstein!

Okay, so maybe this news is three years old. Whatever. I never claimed this to be a breaking-news blog.

But an Alert Reader recently alerted me to the fact that you can -- hello! -- RENT OUT LIECHTENSTEIN. As in, rent it out. Yes. Just like you would the East Ballroom A at the local Westin. Or your local Elks Club lodge. Except, as I've stated, you'd be renting out the whole of Liechtenstein. How did I live this long without knowing this was an option available to me?

This news makes any upcoming wedding invitations seem rather anticlimactic when the knowledge is out there that the happy couple could be utilizing a wealthy European micro-country for a venue rather than...oh, say, anywhere else.

I'd be interested to know if this is actually still possible to do three years later and what types of corporations/gabillionaires have done this. Is there an event coordinator that puts these events together and if so, how many post-it notes does THAT person have to deal with?

Take a Wild Guess

It's Saturday afternoon/evening. The entire day has been gloriously sunny. I'm not sure it's warm out there, but it's sure pretty. What has Beth been doing all weekend so far? Here are your choices:

a.) Went for a early morning run, where I later met up with my co-ed intermural soccer league teammates for some training before the big game.
b.) Headed up to the mountains for some camping and a chance to break in my new boots from REI.
c.) Stayed home, drinking an entire pot of coffee while listening the Magnetic Fields and reading In Cold Blood. Napped intermittently and finally got around to Swiffering the floors.

Stumped? Give up? Whoo. That was fun. I'm still snorting and giggling over the idea of my wearing anything from REI. Let alone the idea of my running in public.

Stephen Merritt beckons me again.....

My Boyfriend Mark Bittman

I heart Mark Bittman, I really do.

I first became attracted to him when I picked up his amazing "How To Cook Everything." Because it really does, honestly, tell you how to cook everything. I mean, seriously, where do you go from there? After you've cooked everything?

I'll tell you where. You go around the damned world and cook everything, everywhere. Because you're Mark Bittman and you kick some major culinary booty.

And as one whose apartment now smells (okay, reeks is probably the better word) of ginger and tumeric and chilis, I have made a giant batch of Saag Paneer and am feeling pretty durned fancy and chef-like.

If a note goes around your classroom and asks you if you heart Mark Bittman, you'd be wise to check the box marked "YES."

Seriously, folks, no squealing

Um. Wow. It would be downright irresponsible of me if I did not share the following Websites with the World At Large as they never fail -- no, not even once -- to make me giddy even on my most angst-ridden of days.

Enter the world of CuteOverload.com, where you will be mercilessly subjected to baby bunnies, hamsters, kittens and even a newborn kiwi bird.

Need more cuteness? Think you can handle the cuteness? Get your daily panda fix at (appropriately enough) Panda Fix.com.

Just TRY and be in a bad mood after visiting these sites. I dare you. Double-dog-dare-you with a baby panda on top.

Beth's Incredibly Low Key Vacation To Come

For the first time in, um, ever, I’m going to be on vacation next week without a single thing planned. No trips, no planes/trains/automobiles, no major home-based projects, nada. Which I do realize is an obnoxious thing to be complaining about (but hey, I’ll do my best). Bring on a week of sleeping in, catching up on my Julia Child DVDs and reading trashy magazines.

I am a wee bit fearful that Reclusive, Asocial Beth will not take over and keep me locked inside my apartment alone for nine straight days with the Puff. I would prefer to be parked at my local hipster coffee shop with my journal catching up on my morning pages….or wandering through an art gallery…or making Saag Paneer....or tossing my beret up into the downtown skyline a la Mary Tyler Moore. My best guess is that it’ll be a combination of all of the above options.

Anybody out there got suggestions for what I could be doing in Seattle next week? Anybody got a beret they can lend me?

Warmth and Fuzziness

I’m feeling genuinely, 100 percent warm and fuzzy after going to a baby shower today for a good friend of mine. Normally – for a single militant non-parent like myself – these events are (let’s face it) not all that much fun since they always involve lots of stories about labor and (ugh) squatting and breastfeeding and things that I cannot in any way identify with. Usually I end up smiling politely and laughing at the right times (“….And I said to him, don’t tell me to push, buddy!” Ha ha ha….ugh) wondering when I can go back home to my apartment and order some Tandoori Chicken to eat during the Simpsons. But this time was different.

This time I couldn’t help but bask in the glow of my friend and her wee one. She was beautiful. And terrified. And excited. And overwhelmed. And so, so happy. And seeing her hold up a tiny pink velvety little footy pajama thing against her big belly just filled me with joy. I felt so proud and giddy and protective and happy for her and her husband and her little muffin-to-be. I just can’t wait to meet the little creature that’s going to be coming in a few weeks.

So. Huh. Yeah.

I realized about half way through the day that today is the 20th anniversary of the day that my dad moved out of our house. I’m not in meltdown phase at all (and I’m not saying that as I bravely bite my lip and hold back tears, either), it was just one of those “Oh. Yeah. Right….” moments that hit me suddenly. The 20th anniversary of anything in my life seems like a big deal. It definitely puts things in perspective. Well, in this case, sort-of perspective. I mean, it’s hard to compare my life at age 12 to now….or my parents’ lives then to how they are now…and make sense of it. I mean, whodathunk? Could I have envisioned then the way my life would be now? Did I see myself one day living in Seattle, working in high tech PR? Hell, no. I probably couldn’t have envisioned myself in high school yet, let alone 20 years down the road.

I don’t’ even remember much about that day. It wasn’t particularly dramatic for me. I got to stay home from school. My mom and I went to see “Pretty in Pink” at the mall while my dad packed up. (*Which means, as an aside, that that movie is also twenty years old, which is just too much for my little brain to comprehend today.) And so that was 20 years ago. Huh.

Sorry, not a very articulate posting here. Huh. That’s all I got, I guess.

Smelly Cat, What Are They Feeding You?

Thoreau’s little cabin in the woods has nothin’ on my eventful night. One has not fully lived until they have picked up their smelly, poopy 20-pound cat named Mrs. Puff, dropped her into the kitchen sink, and given her a bath. Until you have heard the low, guttural, Linda Blair-esque growling coming from said smelly cat, and the squirmy-ness of a furry, terrified miniature bear cub/house cat covered in Dove shampoo, it’s just not a complete life.

Reading Books With Pictures

Okay, I admit it. It’s a little unusual to be reading Strunk and White’s “The Elements of Style,” especially when not in the context of late-night term paper preparation. But have you people seen this illustrated version? I mean, come on, people. This is Grade A adorability and for language/grammar geeks like me, this is like buttah.

The book itself is gorgeous and colorful and amusing (I can’t say hilarious, exactly, but that’s probably not the goal anyway) and I can just imagine how exciting it was for the illustrator Maira Kalman to see her name on the book spine right alongside E.B. White and William Strunk. Nicely done, girlfriend.

Another Open Letter

Dear World At Large,

Um, how long have you been holding out on me, World At Large? You're telling me that they have brought back Jell-O Pudding Pops and no one alerted me to this? Where was the ticker-tape parade? Where was the Food Network Marathon?

It's not often that I am known to squeal in the frozen foods section of my local grocery store, but clearly this discovery merited a giddy little shriek.

Keep me posted if other major elements of my childhood come back into the mainstream. Oh wait, they already have.

Sigh.

Yours in 80's nostalgia,
Beth

Open Letter of Thanks

Open Letter to the Previous Driver of the Flexcar Which I Recently Used On Weekend Errands

Dear Sir/Madam,

In the one-in-a-billion chance that you actually should come across my blog, I wanted to take a moment and say thank you. While bopping around town in my Flexcar today, I noticed a CD hiding above the cup holder entitled, simply, "Car Mix." I popped it in. And it was SHEER BRILLIANCE.

Was it the opening remix of The Smiths' "How Soon is Now?" that made this such a fabulous, enjoyable CD? Was it the ABBA-infused Madonna song that I cannot get enough of? Was it that feel-good Natasha Bedingford song "These Words" that had me shouting "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" out loud while driving? It was the whole thing, my Flexcar amigo. Whether you left your mix in the car by accident, or whether you left in there to pop in the next time you needed to run some errands, this sampling of new songs and old favorites made a rather dull errand trip much more entertaining for this gal.

Come to think of it, the only way that they could make Flexcar any better is if all users, just like you did, started leaving little "gifts" behind for the next passenger to enjoy. Could be a refreshing bottle of water, a recipe for Scalloped Potatoes or a mix CD of your favorite songs. Just a thought. Thanks again for turning my temporary Honda Civic into a temporary dance hall/karaoke bar.

Yours in the spirit of Flexcar,
Beth

Reflections Upon My Kitchen Trash

This week while I was cleaning up my kitchen I accidentally dropped a coffee mug and broke it.
This bummed me out deeply.

For one, it was a damned nice mug on its own; but on a more sentimental note, it was a mug I had bought several years ago while staying up at Orcas Island on a 3-day getaway with my then-boyfriend, whom we'll just call Mr. Crazy. I picked it out at this fantastic pottery place that had its wares scattered all around a yard right along side the Sound, including inside of a raft that they had christened the "sale boat" (this dorky sense of humor appealed to me greatly). He bought a bowl there, I think. We went driving all around the island that day. We read. We listened to Van Morrison. We later argued because I burnt dinner to a charred crisp and there we were in the middle of (sort of) nowhere hungry and annoyed with each other. We made up. More Van Morrison was played.

So then, fast forwarding to five years later, I'm standing in my kitchen, looking down at the broken mug sitting in my trash, realizing it was one of the few tangible items I actually had from my time with Mr. Crazy and there it was...in the trash. Which made me very sad and sentimental about those years and that trip and that time in my life. I moped around for a while until common sense came back and Swiffered away the nostalgia and reminded me that Mr. Crazy was, well, crazy, and it was not a relationship that could have ever worked in the real world.

Still, I'll miss that mug.

Jennifah & the Baxter

I recently saw THE most adorable movie which I need to recommend to the World At Large, The Baxter. Great little indie flick by Michael Showalter of the comedy troup Stella and co-hort of Michael Ian Black, who is a snarky, slightly annoying/slightly humorous manchild. It's about a classically overly nice, well-intentioned guy (i.e., a "Baxter") and his adventures finding love.

Also featured in the film is my new favorite actress Michelle Williams of Dawson's Creek/Brokeback Mountain fame, and target of my Dawson's Creek drinking game involving taking a shot everytime Gram said "Jennifah!".

In other news, I recently found out that Michael Ian Black was the voice (and wrist) of the Pets.com sock puppet dog? Is it just me that was unaware of this, or have I been living in a cave since 1998?

Really? I mean, seriously?

Is it just coincidental that the same week that I suffer a four-pound setback in my fitness plan, we get Girl Scout cookies delivered to our office?

Are ya trying to KILL me here, people, by testing my already sensitive ability to restrain myself with Samoas?

FAQ on Girl Scout Cookies here. More questions out there than one would think about something as simple as cookies, but hey. I digress.

Back in the blogging saddle

After a spirited couple of days of chatting and researching and immersing myself into the world of peer media and blogging, I'm more motivated than ever to get back in the spirit of the blog. No more monthly postings! You hear that, world? Gear up for more frequent updates about Mrs. Puff, my impending travels and the various escapades of my relatively dull life.

I've also reopened the comments capabilities here at the World of Beth so CHIT CHAT away and let me know what you're thinking. We'll see how it goes -- thanks to one too many spam comments about hot tubs and winning lottery numbers, I got tired and discontinued them but evidently blogs are all about open dialogues and conversations and interaction and all...And here I thought you all just wanted to know what I was doing with my weekends.

Everybody Okay Here

From the crew that brought you Spitesgiving 2005, I'd like to wish my single readers a Happy "I"m-A-Okay-By-Myself-Tines Day."

Not because you're bitter. Not because you live alone with an obese cat. It's because you're A-OKAY by yourself. Yes you are. You are.

Have a good day with your A-Okay Single Selves, or with your Snuggly Wuggly Doodle Bears, whichever you prefer.

What's been up with Beth?

Evidently 2006 is not gearing up to be the year where Beth spends a great deal of time on her blog. Ah well. Here’s a quick update on my life and what adventures I’ve been up to. In the past month I’ve been:

Aging!
Another Beth-filled year on the planet. I rang it in with brie and olives and red wine and all was right with the world.

Organizing!
A while back, I found a picture of this bookstore in San Francisco that had rearranged all of its books by color and am pleased as punch to say that I have done the same with my home library. The idea started one day when I was sitting in bed reading, staring straight ahead at my bookshelves and wondering how I could make them a wee bit more visually appealing. Okay, so it’s only two bookshelves’ worth, but I’m mighty proud of my accomplishment. Pictures to come if I can figure out how to download from my digital camera.

Eating Organically!
In an attempt to eat better, I signed up for a grocery delivery service that brings fresh, local, seasonal organic produce every single week right to your doorstep. Love that! First box arrived today and I am a little thrown off by the leek hiding inside. Any good leek recipes out there? Anyone?

Armchair Traveling!
Must. Get. Out. Of. Seattle! Am thinking of Santa Fe, or someplace equally desert-y and hot where I can just bake in the sun and dry out from all of this damned rain. This place seems enticing. While I am intrigued by the idea of staying in a genuine Airstream trailer, but then am reminded that I already spend my days in a 500 square foot studio apartment, so why not get crazy and mix it up in, say, a real hotel room? Spa treatments and soaking pools…sign this girl up!

Losing things!
I lost my cell phone. Then I bought a new one to replace it. Then someone found my old cell phone on the street (of course). Then I couldn’t get in touch with them. Then they kept calling. And calling.

Drinking!
Equation for 2006 – Beth + Too Much Sofia Champagne = BAD TIMES. ‘Nuff said. But damn, that packaging is CUTE. How can one resist the power of the bendy straw?

Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Cool hipster stationary and hilarious products!

Cool hipster stationary and hilarious products who?

At Knock Knock.

Who's there?

Stop. Stop right now. Just go to the site and look at the witty, snarky products you can buy that crack me up. The "How To Find True Love" poster is beyond words.

Birthday Shout Out

Once again it's time to give a special birthday shout out to my co-hort at KSIS-radio, who celebrated her 32nd birthday today. Ma-nah-ma-nuh!

Here's hoping you put on your fancy Christmas dress, slick on some Dr. Pepper lipgloss and dance around like a rockstar. Have a fabulous day, old friend.

Best. Quote. Ever.

I got together with a friend for a poetry reading last night who I had not seen since waaaaay back during the summer. As we sat sipping coffee and catching up on our adventures, I found myself babbling in that nervous way I do where I do nothing but mock and make fun of myself in an attempt to set the other party at ease. It's self-deprication in its most extreme form. I think I'm trying to be funny? Maybe? Sort of?

So anyway, my friend kept listening to me rambling on about how many classes I should be taking and how much more I should be travelling and all of the things I wanted to be doing this year but hadn't gotten around to, and she interrupted me and said, gently, "Stop. You're should-ing all over yourself."

What a wonderful thing to say. I felt instantly at ease, like I could exhale and relax all of my muscles. It was a nice reminder for me to be a little more forgiving and kind with myself. Nice lesson learned. Stop should-ing.

Thanks.

Beth's OTHER new boyfriend, Dell

Move over, iPod mini....it's time to meet the newest addition to Beth's technology roster, Mr. Brand New Dell Laptop. Sigh. It's true. I'm in love. He's dreamy and shiny and fast and really, really smart.

Although he has yet to find his way into my apartment, my Shiny New Smart Laptop should be arriving in a week or so and I could not be more excited. My current laptop is from 1998 (yes, that's eight years ago), which essentially makes it a 20-pound rock powered by an elderly gerbil and a ball of twine. This laptop has been with me since my receptionist days -- before public relations, before Y2K, before the dot-com bubble both ballooned and then burst, before Mrs. Puff, before the dawn of time itself, apparently. Now the thing gets cranky if I want to have more than one application open at a time.

Imagine -- a world of multiple applications. I shudder at the thought of it. CD and DVD burning have nothing on the concept of my being able to surf AND work on a Word document at the same time. I need to tread cautiously with the new power I will soon possess....it boggles my low-tech brain.

STEVE-worthy reading

Third consecutive entry about reading and books. Perhaps 2006 will be the year of reading and not-so-much with the mythical activity/fitness/social interaction scene I keep hearing so much about?

After a year of sitting on my IKEA Billy bookshelf, I’ve finally started reading The Know It All, a great read for those members of STEVE, which is (duh) the Smarter Than Everybody Else Club. A guy reads his way through the entire Encyclopedia Britannica. The whole thing. A-Z. He’s unabashedly proud of being smarter than everyone else. Godspeed, A.J. Jacobs, Godspeed.

I especially enjoy the fact that one of Jacobs’ main motivators for this project came from the fact that he felt himself getting progressively dumber the longer he was away from school, a topic I can relate to all-too well. He’s got a great essay on Powell’s site here.

Two weekends into 2006 and I am still not entirely transformed

So last year at this time I was all gung-ho into fitness and exercise and transformation and becoming the Newer, Fitter Beth. Apparently that’s not happening in 2006 because for the second weekend in a row I have spent WAY too much time napping, reading or on my couch watching "Scrubs" on DVD. I may heart Zach Braff (Zach, call me!), but this does not make for a Fitter Beth.

In a new low, I overdosed today on Sudafed thanks for an allergy attack and spent the majority of the day literally staring at the ceiling which my mouth open. I felt like I was re-enacting the scene in "Sid & Nancy" where they set the apartment on fire during an overdose and just have to stare slack-jawed as the flames engulf the place because they’re too stoned to move. Yup. Not my finest moment.

Here’s hoping the third weekend’s going to be a more active charmer. Unless I find myself sprawled on my bathroom floor in a Nyquil-induced haze, I’m not sure how it couldn’t be an improvement.

2006: The Year of Domestic Beth?

Hmm. As I read that subject line, I think it’s probably a little unlikely that I’ll become super-domestic this year, but that certainly won’t stop me from tryin’. Thanks to a Christmas gift card to Borders, I’ve purchased not one, not two, but THREE massive cookbooks as well as a McSweeney’s anthology of snarky hipster lit. The Puffster’s kitchen will hopefully soon smell of homemade soups, a la the Williams-Sonoma Soup edition; healthier traditional food a la A New Way to Cook; and shi-shi schmancy food a la the Dean and Deluca Cookbook.

Did I mention Mark Bittman also has a new cookbook out? A girl could go culinarily out of her goard if she wasn't careful.

This could be all motivated by another gift I received recently, a book called Julie and Julia, by Julie Powell. The woman gets it in her head to cook every single one of the recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It’s hilarious. It has reignited my love for Julia Child. There’s something very endearing to me about a six-foot-two former spy with a passion for life and a foul mouth and a love of brie and butter. Her kitchen was custom-built for her frame, two inches higher than a “normal” kitchen so that she wouldn’t have to stoop her gigantic self over the sink and counters. I mean, how does that fact not make you smile? Did I mention you can get DVDs of Julia Child’s old shows? How does THAT fact not make you smile?

What's Up With Beth, You Might Ask?

Realizing it had been almost a month since last Beth blogged, she stumbled out of her stupor, brushed the sleep crusties out of her eyes and sat down to inform the world about her activities. Since you last heard from me, I’ve been:

Reuniting With Old Friends. After a 13-year gap, I had a lovely day in Seattle with my old friend David Bede. Yes, we met at a summer creative writing camp in high school. Yes, we really WERE that cool. You got a problem with that? The important thing to focus on here is that we’ve managed to keep in touch all of these years after going through the experience of writing and sharing angst-ridden, overly serious, really, really deep short stories written by our 15-year-old selves.

Meeting The Mythical Lurpy Lurperson. Okay, so I haven’t written about Lurpy just yet. Here’s the scoopage. The house behind my mom’s house in Denver has this dog that we’ve been obsessed with for years. It’s a cross between a Pooh bear and a Shar-pei. Yup. Seriously. It never barks and its snugglier than snuggly. We LOVE this dog. Thanks for a winter wind storm, my mom’s back fence caved in allowing – you guessed it – Lurpy the Wonder Dog to wander into our yard and snuggle with us. Think Diane Fossey was excited when she got to meet the mountain gorillas for the first time? She ain’t got nothing on how amped I was to meet the Lurpy dog for the first time.

Reveling in Holiday Merriment. Holidays happened. My family’s still crazy. Santa was very good to me this year. High Five, Santa!

Ringing in The Year of the Buck. We have christened 2006 “The Year of the Buck” since it’s going to “buck the trend” of crappy years that have been taking place recently. Did you hear that? 2006 is going to ROCK THE HOUSE. It’s going to be awesome. Seriously. Really. It will. We are all going to be thin and rich and fabulous and successful. Beth toasted in the New Year in Portland, while starting a new tradition of shopping tax free, eating 12 grapes and eating long noodles at midnight.

Holiday Gift Guide

If you find yourselves running low on gift ideas this holiday season and are looking for the perfect idea for that special someone, might I recommend pee and poo?

Forget visions of sugarplums dancing through your head, man.

Taking Craftiness to a Whole New Level

Let's just say that Beth tried stamping for the first time last night and I'm not afraid to say out loud that I kind of-sort-of really, really liked it. The idea of making adorable homemade cards with cute trim and backgrounds and papers and flare seems durned fun.

Oh yes. You heard me.

Mrs. Puff Gets A Brazilian, or How Beth Spent the Holidays

Oh friends. FRIENDS! So much to report! I realize it's been for-danged-ever since last I updated the blog, so I'm trying to get caught up before the full holiday madness kicks in.

Let's start with Mrs. Puff and her Thanksgiving Of No Dignity Whatsoever. For the turkey day holiday, the kitty got boarded at the vet's for a week, which is good since she can get checked out and get her shots, etc. I tried to convince her it would be like going to a health spa.

Except. When the vet weighed the giant furball it turns out that the kitty has put on eight (8) (that's EIGHT) pounds in just the year since she was there last and that puts her total weight now at twenty-four (24) (JEEBUS) pounds total. You do realize that's like the human equivilant of gaining 50-80 pounds in a year, don't you? You do realize this made me tremendously embarrassed and ashamed of how morbidly obese my cat is, don't you?

The worst part of all of this is that being as fat as she is (really, in human terms she would need a scooter to get around, let's face it), our little Puff can't, well, um, groom herself in all of her secret places. If you know what I mean. And I hope you do. So the vet had to....well, um, well, shave Mrs. Puff's naughty bits. If you know what I mean. The whole thing just makes me blush and want to take her out for long walks so she can lose weight and get to grooming herself like a normal cat.

Let's just say the Puff has not quite forgiven me for putting her through that week-long experience and I can't really blame her for that.

And what did YOU do for the Thanksgiving holiday?

Down With Fat Suits

Is it just me, or is the rest of the free world getting a wee bit tired of “investigative reports” about skinny reporters/supermodels who don fat suits and then talk about how “horrifying” it is to be fat? In the past few months not only has Tyra Banks done a show about this, but now the Today Show and Entertainment Tonight have both put on “Special Reports” involving thin reporters strapping on fat suits and walking around Manhattan to get reactions from the general public.

Apparently – news flash – people aren’t real forgiving to the morbidly obese and it seems that men aren’t as helpful to 350-pound women as they are to supermodels. Also – again, news flash – it’s apparently harder to get around when you’re wearing a 350-pound fat suit than it is when you’re in your normal 120-pound body. This is news? This is something that required “investigating?”

Grrrrr. Add this to my list for next year's Spitesgiving.

Let Us Bow Our Heads and Give Spite...

In what I can only hope will be an annual, if not semi-annual event, Beth and her crew of cynics put on a killer Spitesgiving feast as an antidote to the goodwill-towards-men-spirit soon to be floating around this holiday season.

Instead of going around and saying what we were thankful for, we chose instead to say what we were most spiteful/bitter about. Some of the responses were lighthearted, others were more serious and they all made for a nice cathartic way to reflect on the past year and grumble collectively. Everyone should go through this process before having to slap on those polite smiles and gather with family over the holidays. The fact that you can celebrate Spitesgiving while eating turkey, dressing, mashed potaters and cranberries (motto: “the bitterest fruit EVER”) surrounded by good friends makes it all the better.

Think of it as a way to confess your regrets and disgruntlement for the year and then move on into the new year and new beginnings. Sage burning optional. What are you most spiteful for this year? What could you do to change that next year?

As an added bonus, you should check out the Jones Soda Holiday Pack and sample them during Spitesgiving. If the brussel sprout and pumpkin pie-flavored soda doesn't make you spiteful, then nothing will.

So what made my spiteful list? People with soulmates, folding fitted sheets, President Bush, the phrase “hella,” people who require size “extra small,” the combination of fruit and meat, celery, and, of course (never to be forgotten) EELS.

So Much For The Banana Stand

Sad days, my friends, sad days. And I am NOT talking about "7th Heaven..."

Comments

Um, dudes, what’s up with the spam in the comments section? I don’t want to have to get snarly and bust a cap over this.

Capote

Having just seen this brilliant film, I have to ask, is there any role where Philip Seymour Hoffman is NOT totally creepy? Could the man just do one lighthearted romantic comedy or something so that he’s not always associated with spine-chilling and heeby-jeeby-inducing freaks?

Detox diet

Beth went on a shopping binge at Half Price Books earlier this week, which makes for one happy little camper here in Seattle. One of my finds was the Great American Detox Diet, written by the semi-famous girlfriend of documentarian Morgan Spurlock, who spent a wee too much time in McDonald’s a white ago and, well, nearly died. She’s a vegan who is also a personal chef and basically nursed Morgan back to life as he,well, nearly died and all.

It gets a shoulder shrug and an “Engh” from me in terms of a review. Apparently you should drink more water. And eat less sugar. And eat more quinoa and locally-grown organic bok choy. Unfortunately, I already know this. Well, YES, you should do all of those things. Of COURSE you should. I have no doubts that we would all feel better and healthier and more vibrant and alive if we prepared homemade meals every single day of fresh whole foods bought from a local farmer’s market.

Clearly I read with a high degree of snarkiness. Nothing particularly illuminating, except for still good suggestions that anyone with a nagging mother has already heard before.

Smuggy McSmuggerson

If I haven’t grabbed you by your lapels and shouted into your face lately, let me reiterate how much I freakin’ LOVE FLEXCAR. I mean, I LUUUUURRVE Flexcar. If I could date Flexcar and have its babies, I totally would, which is not something I say all that often except when I am talking about Mark Ruffalo.

Case in point: today on an errand I got to drive around town in a sporty, brand-spankin’ new Honda Civic Hybrid that had 422 miles on it. I have never in my life been in a car that new. It still had new-car smell. It was divine. For non car geeks like me, this was the equivalent of driving in a Ferrari or a BMW 20AZ-J model or whatever you car enthusiasts get all excited about. It was a car I could see myself purchasing someday.

Except, with the joy of Flexcar, I don’t have to (a) actually purchase the car (b) pay for the gas to feed the car (c) pay for the car insurance to protect the car and, best of all, (d) I get to radiate in the arrogant smugness that comes from driving an environmentally responsible hybrid car.

Neener-neener to you suckers not enjoying the thrill and convenience of Flexcar.

Knitting Bitterly

I am having a vague memory that in high school – just to prove how cutting edge, rock star COOL my group of friends was –when one of us was in a pissy mood (i.e., often – it was high school, after all) we would mock that person incessantly by referring to them as a “bitter knitter.”

Yes. We were THAT COOL. What the hell did that mean? Where did that come from? I don’t know, it was a different time back in the early nineties, kids.

At any rate, to prove that my coolness has continued over the past fifteen years, I’m getting together tonight with some friends for a knitting group that will be called, you guessed it, the Bitter Knitters. The bitter knitting has indeed come full circle.

We’re open to suggestions at this point for logos, designs for satin jackets, coffee mugs, pot holders etc. to celebrate the Bitter Knitters.

New Family Member

I am bursting at the seams with joy. Proud to announced the latest family member into Beth’s life.

It’s shiny.

It’s pink.

It’s my new iPod mini.

I love it so unbearably much. I promise to feed it and water it and play with it and take it for walks and name it George.

Personal Update

Again with the sharing of overly personal information in a public forum! Yahoo! I wanted to provide an update about Beth’s Antidepressant Adventure since it’s been almost two months and many of you have been kind enough to ask how things are going with me.

First of all, thank you, friends. Thank you for the terrific emails and phone calls and chats over coffee to check in with me. I was a little tentative to go public about this whole experience, but it’s ultimately made it a billion times easier for me to get through the whole process. Hearing people’s stories about their own personal struggles and dealings has been enormously comforting, and the support I’ve felt lately has just been so inspiring and touching. So thanks.

Second of all, thank YOU, antidepressants! Thank YOU, scientists and drug companies that make antidepressants! Thanks to my sweet pharmacist at the downtown drug store! After finally getting my dosage upped to the right level, can I just say what a wonderful addition to my life you all have been? You. Are. So. Great. Seriously. I feel so much better! I have energy and interest in things again. This was the first weekend where I actually DID NOT want to sit around the house doing nothing for two straight days. I can concentrate and focus and feel things again. It really has been a huge transformation and I’m very happy that I finally took some action and got some help.

Sigh. Life is good again. It’s amazing, like being shown the proverbial light at the end of a dark, cramped tunnel. I wish I could come up with a better analogy than that, but it's apt. And it's great to be on the outside again.

National Puff Day

Hereby solidifying my status as a crazy cat lady, I report to the world that today is the One Year Anniversary of Mrs. Puff’s Life With Beth. It was one year ago today where I ran frantically into the Bellevue Humane Society and screeched to whomever would listen that I needed to immediately rescue the giant grey cat I saw on the Internet (formerly known as Teddy Bear).

The old girl was hidden away in the quarantine section, asleep in her food dish, her face caked with food, coughing and wheezing with a respiratory infection, suffering from an irritated eye. It was Not Pretty. Pleased to say that she’s all recovered, now snugglier than ever, more obese than ever, and happier than I think she’s been in a long time.

Everyone please shout out “MURF” and roll over to expose your giant bellies to celebrate National Puff Day.

For all you art geek types

Having just finished The Passion of Artemisia, I am all hopped up to head out to Florence and wander the cobblestone pathways looking at art while baking in the Italian sun. It was one of those books that had sat on my shelves for literally YEARS before I finally dug it out and decided to check it out – well worth the time!

If you’re interested in learning more about the actual artist Artemisia Gentileschi and would like to check out some of her paintings that are referenced in the book (c’mon, you know you do…), you can check them out here, and here and here.

On the road again…..

Forget whiskers on kittens and warm woolen mittens – this weekend was all about indulging in my favorite things in Vancouver. I’m feeling all warm and snuggly after a weekend getaway to Canada where I got to enjoy my usual routine of Robson Street goodness. Anyone who’s been to Vancouver with me can attest to the fact that I have the Exact. Same. Routine. Every. Single. Time I go there. Even the bathroom stop/coffee pickup at the Haggen’s in Bellingham – it’s the same trip every time and that’s just fine by this girl.

Beth’s Consistent Vancouver Routine kicks off at the Sheraton Wall Centre (really, the best hotel in all of Canada, it never fails to exceed my needs), where I comment extensively on the softness of the bedding. This may or may not involve my petting the throw pillows and saying “DAMMIT THESE ARE SO FRICKIN’ SOFT!!” many, many times.

Next up is Hon’s for some dim sum and wonton soup. The wonton soup there is seriously amazing – a hint of sesame oil in the broth just makes it all go down the right way. This time it was packed with ramen noodles. Niiice.

After that the tour takes you to Lush and Kiehl’s, and then down the street to Chapters to check out the trashy British chick-lit novels that aren’t yet available in the States. Sometimes there’s spa activity involved at Skoah, sometimes not. Usually there is sushi at Tsunami Sushi, where I marvel at conveyor belt sushi and drink too much sake and say “DAMMIT EVERY RESTAURANT IN THE WORLD SHOULD SERVE FOOD ON FRICKIN’ CONVEYOR BELTS!”

And then it’s back to the States, where I wait for the next time I need to leave the country for some predictable Canadian enjoyment.

Open letter to the kid across from my on the bus, talking to his brother on his cell phone:

Dude. Seriously. I know you’ve got a rough day ahead of you, but can I offer a tidbit of advice? When you’re on a crowded bus during the morning rush hour, it’s best NOT to throw phrases like these around loudly:

“Yeah, I’m going off to court this morning…”
“….yeah, I guess he’s pretty strict…”
“….Mom? Yeah, I called her already…”
“….so yeah, if I call you this afternoon it means it went well I guess…”
“….yeah, I mean, if you don’t hear from me, that means….yeah.”
“….that would just suck, dude, because I like having my freedom, you know?”

Thanks and good luck today,
Concerned Passenger on the Number 10 Bus

Sunday evening

Has it really been a month since last I blogged? I guess so. Yeesh. How's life been with y'all? It's been a bunch of different emotions these last few weeks:

Domestic and nesty. I made my annual batches of pickles and blueberry jam over Labor Day weekend. I never thought I'd be the type of person that made jam on an annual basis, but hey, it works. Tonight I made lemon bread -- that Better Homes and Gardens cookbook has surprisingly come in handy lately. With fall comes a desire to nest and buy scented candles and decorative throw pillows.

Exhausted. Work has been crazy busy lately. Craaaazy busy.

Thankful. And yet, despite the crazy work-related business mentioned above, I still find myself loving my workplace and feeling so blessed to have found an environment that nutures and cares about me. I really can't see myself working anywhere else.

Frustrated, cranky and irritated. Cause, you know. I just am, okay?

Pandas and Extended Nudity With Friends: Beth Returns From Vacation!

So, phew, where to begin? It’s been a mighty long time since last I posted anything, so there’s much to catch up on.

Let me start by thanking the Johnson clan for putting me up in their lovely home for a few days and for showering me with the gifts of homemade naan and roasted Tandoori Chicken. Taste-eeeee! These folks put on an amazing feast every time I see them and this was no exception. Props to Tony for giving me WORD (You rock, little man) and to Sophia for a great picnic with the Care Bears. Here’s to more bizarre memories that we won’t be able to remember 20 years from now! Scavengers? I’m so glad I finally got off my behind and came down for a visit, just as I’ve threatened to do for years and years, it was definitely worth it.

Which brings me to the PANDAS. Pandas! Wheeee! Live, cuddly, snuggly pandas. Life is just totally worth being giddy over after you’ve watched a panda sitting in a tree, eating some bamboo, being all snuggly and panda-like. It’s just cuteness on a ridiculous scale. They should come with the same warnings that I feel baby otters should be issued. Do Not Look Directly Into The Cuteness. Can you tell I went a little panda-happy, folks? Can I also mention that you can buy a shot glass at the zoo with a picture of a baby panda on it? Does that seem….not quite right?

Which NEXT brings me to the wine country. Wine country! Wheeeee! Land of full-bodied cabernets and brie by the truckload – Beth was truly in paradise. The only way it could have been better was if the pandas actually came with us and served up the brie and wine (a plan I am actually working on, by the way). In an attempt to detox from the past few weeks/months, Beth and her travel companion Stacy decided to hit the spas for the famous Calistoga mud baths during our stay.

This seemed like a good idea at the time. Again, I repeat. A good idea at the time.

It wasn’t until we entered the mud bath room at the spa and stared at the giant vats of mud before us that we realized – Holy. Crapola. We will. Have to be. Naked. In the mud. Next to each other. Together. Without. Clothing on.

After much sputtering and staring and awkward glances we sucked up our dignity, sucked in our tummies, closed our eyes and the next thing we knew we were sitting in a vat of hot mud in the buff. We’re definitely crossed a line that friends usually don’t cross on vacations. (This line is called the Sitting Naked In a Vat of Hot Mud For $75, by the way).

Was it all worth it? Let’s say I’ve seen a lot in a week’s time, and that’s not a bad thing sometimes.

Home on a School Day

I was feeling deeply under the weather today so I decided to stay home from work and have a sick day. Can I just reiterate how BORING sick days are when you're an adult? One one side, yes you're not at work, so that's a good thing. But at what cost? Not only is there nothing good on TV, but there's no one to call up and keep you company. The biggest highlight of my day came from discovering which of my neighbors were home in the middle of the day on a Thursday.(Hint: LOTS OF THEM.)

One of my greatest joys when I was a kid on a sick day was having my mom come up to my room and make my bed because, as a nurse, she had the magical ability to make the bed WITH ME STILL INSIDE OF IT. We're talking fitted sheets, people. This skill still boggles my brain. I can't even straighten up a comforter with my cat on the bed. Can someone please diagram for me how you do this? I'd like that to be my Party Trick the next time I find myself in a group of strangers.

My biggest accomplishment today consisted of sleeping for nearly 20 of 24 hours. I best get my behind back to the daily grind.

Another Open Letter from Beth

Can I just share with the free world that I woke up this morning at 1:53 this morning to find not one, not two, but like FIVE spider/mysterious bug bites on my body in the middle of the night?

Open Letter to the Spiders Living In My Bed:

Listen guys, I know summer is headed to an end. I know you're looking for a place to camp. I know you have families to think of. I know my high thread-count sheets are appealing. But BACK THE HELL OFF. Seriously.

As a PR professional, I realize that spiders have a tough rap to beat. You're rarely listed among the most snuggly of creatures. Hiding around my pillows and nibbling at my wrists and face isn't helping that any. Your heeby-jeeby rating is OFF THE CHARTS right now.

Did you not happen to notice that I have a 20-pound furball of a cat sleeping right next to me? Why would you attack me and not her? I'm trying to help you here by pointing out other candidates for attack -- next time either focus on the furry feline, or better yet just skip my place altogether.

Your pal,
Beth

Coffee. Grounds. (Beth weighs the risks)

Sorry folks, but the blogging about anti-depressants continues.

If you're one of the FREAKS that enjoys reading about Beth's life on a regular basis, then this is what you get these days. Part of me feels strange for blogging about this ongoing dilemma I've been having, like I'm letting the free world know all-too much about my intimate, personal problems. But isn't that exactly what defines a blog in the first place? Wish it could be all about my British supermodel boyfriends with thick, black nerdy eyeglasses, but alas...Plus, the more I'm reading up on the topic and talking to people about it, the more I'm starting to realize, for better or worse, how commonplace these little magic pills are and how non-taboo they are. I feel almost ashamed for not recognizing that -- for assuming everyone else has perfectly-formed lives free from problems and that I'm the weirdo with the problem.

So ANYWAY. I have Contacted My Doctor and Taken Action. And predictably I have gone on the Internet to find out about more possible side effects of my medication. Including the following -- which I'm sorry, but if this is not material for a stand-up comedy routine or a David Sedaris essay I don't know what is:

"Tell your doctor immediately if any of these highly unlikely but very serious side effects occur: unusual muscle stiffness, fast/irregular heartbeats, chest pain, black stools, vomit that looks like coffee grounds, easy bruising/bleeding, unusual bleeding, seizures."

Really? This beats staying home alone on the weekends in a coma watching a marathon of "Good Times" on TvLand? Are you absolutely, positively SURE?

So the long, strange trip begins.

Stuff on my Cat.com

Stuff On My Cat.com.

Someone at work forwarded this link on a lazy Friday afternoon and ever since then I have seen it EVERYWHERE. I've also referred many a friend to this site when they need a pick-me-up. I think the world is slowly starting to revolve around Stuff On My Cat.com and I'm not sure that's a bad thing.

Given that Mrs. Puff is headed up on 20 pounds, she better watch her back. She has the potential for LOTS of stuff being balanced on her ginormous tummy.

The countdown begins

Reasons to perk up a bit after several posts this week about how down in the dumps I'm feeling lately:

1.) Seriously, Beth, your life could be a LOT WORSE right now.
2.) I am going on not just ONE vacation at the end of the month (San Diego), but TWO (then to Napa).
3.) On those vacations I am going to see panda bears, my boyfriend Tony Johnson (age 1), and hopefully a massage therapist named "Maverick" or "Gunner."
4.) My new crisp white IKEA duvet cover makes me feel like I'm sleeping in a hotel every night. The matching bedskirt, not surprisingly, fits strangely and was impossible to put together on my bed. Lesson learned: IKEA ONLY GOOD FOR SO MUCH. Second unrelated lesson learned: IKEA MEATBALLS = YUMMY NUMMY GOODNESS.
5.) See reason number 1 again. Repeat often.

Catching up with old friends

In addition to being remiss about blogging, I've also been remiss in checking in on the blogs I used to track. Man, I used to be religious about checking in with the same 5-6 blogs every morning. They got to be like virtual friends, people whose lives I followed and cared about in some lurking, stalker-like way. Clearly if you're reading this you understand what I'm saying?

ANYWAY. Today I went and looked up my old blogs. One gal had lost her job. Another was writing about her friends moving away and how bummed it made her feel. It was nice to hear about what they were up to, to reconnect in a sense with people I've never connected with directly.

In case you're wondering why I'm rambling about this, it DOES relate to my previous post about anti-depressants. I'm still thinking about getting something, but part of me realizes too how much better I always feel after I call or write or read or hang out with PEOPLE. I feel like I've lost connections with a lot of things lately -- I'm finding a lack of interest in things I usually care more about -- reading, writing, knitting, mocking, walking...blah blah blah. The sofa has been very comforting lately, it has low expectations of me, which I find all-too soothing.

But here's the rub. Part of me is starting to think that the solution might not be in a magic pill, but more in just getting out and experiencing the world rather than sitting home during the weekends stewing in asocial solitude.Intellectually, I know that's what should happen. I know what the solution should be. And yet, maybe the magic pill could help to get me out in the world in the first place? Does one lead to the other? Coax it out somehow? Or are they not related at all?

The traditional Midwesterner in me is telling me to buck up, get things figured out and quit looking for drugs to solve my problems. The new-agey West Coaster in me is telling me to ask for help when I need it and stop feeling guilty about needing it in the first place. Feeling philosophical tonight. No easy answers here.

A very strange reason that I love my mom

I'm recalling an all-too personal conversation I had with my mom while in Denver that made me realize how much I like her.

It involves a conversation about antidepressants. I admitted to her that I was thinking of asking my doctor for something to help get me over this slump I've been in lately. And first of all, she didn't blink an eye about that. In fact she offered advice for how to do it. (Imagine now my mom with a cigarette in one hand and a V-8 in the other) "You go in there, you say look here pal, there've been a lot of nights lately at home alone watching TV and not going out and I just need some damned happy pills."

First of all, I enjoy that my mom would say to her doctor, "Look here pal..." (and anyone who knows my mom knows that's EXACTLY what she would say) and secondly I love that she offered advice about how to ask for what she refers to as "happy pills" without asking me any awkward questions.

Drugs. Are. GREAT.

Looks like the bi-weekly posting is the new norm and I'm trying hard not to feel guilty about that.

Would it help to mention that I'm totally dizzy and high right now from painkillers due to a dental procedure this afternoon? Can I mention how FREAKING GREAT PRESCRIPTION PAINKILLERS ARE? I mean, seriously, that was one of the best $10 co-pays I have paid in a long time. Maybe I should do that more often and there will be more to post about! Wheeeeeee! Get me, swallowing codeine and then BLOGGING! The minor tummy trouble is nothing compared to this fuzzy feeling. I might go find me a tractor or some other heavy machinary and operate it. Labels be damned!

So. Ahem. Yeah. Let's see how to sum up my life over the past few weeks:

1.) Went to Denver for my mom's birthday. Had minor freak out over fact that parents are getting older and that the day will come when they, um, won't be there anymore. Instantly surpressed those feelings by going to Southwest Plaza with my mom and letting her buy me a new skirt to wear to work.

2.) Finished the new Harry Potter book. I give it a 5 out of 10. Not the best in the series, but it's definintely got my appetite geared up for the final chapter to come in the next book. Can we even talk about that sex scene between Herminone and Hagrid? You think I'm joking about that? Only the true Harry geeks will know for sure.

3.) Went to the dentist and got. Some. Prescription. Drugs. My attention span is aboutthislong. Better sign off because my laptop is starting to swirl.

weeeeeeeeeeeee....

Birthday Shouts Out!

A big, fat, "we've known each other since the days of poodle perms" Birthday Shout Out to my amiga Rachel -- hope you crank up the Erasure, peg your pants, dig out your AP history book and snarf down a Chocolate Chipper like it's 1987 all over again, girlfriend.

Also a shout out to my dad (the man, the myth, the LEGEND), whose birthday was this weekend and if he's actually sitting there reading my blog about his birthday right now, then we know Beth is in for a helluva lot of trouble moving forward.

Cool your jets, gentle readers

Clearly hell HAS frozen over, because I've finally gotten back in the blogging saddle and returned to update the world with my daily minutia! There just hasn't been that much going on worth noting, plus I've been deeply lazy and out of sorts lately. Let's see....

It's been a pretty mellow summer so far. Seattle (State Motto: "We don't NEED no stinkin' summer") has been all-too mild and overcast. I'm tired of hearing about states where there is "sun" and "heat." Who are you people?

On the travel front, I'm looking forward to returning to the Mile High Homeland in a little over a week. Then it's off to San Diego for some nostalgia with my junior high poodle-perm-compadre and then finally off to Napa Valley for some convertible-driving, spa-visiting, merlot guzzling goodness with my SSB.

I've become hooked on the VH1 reality shows "The Surreal Life" and "Celebrity Fit Club," only because it gives me an excuse to reference Balki at the water cooler at work. As someone said to me over the weekend, "What, cousin Larry's too good to be on VH1?" Exactly, folks.

And with that, I think that sums up the past three weeks. You were expecting something more exciting that that? You and me both, amigos. Here's the breaking the Curse of The Summer Malaise.

A few random Sunday thoughts:

1.) Per yesterday's posting about rolling the dice and seeing what type of Beth you might get, can I just say what a GREAT idea that was? I mean, seriously people? It would be so much easier if you could just wake up, roll the Emotional Dice and know what you were in for that day. I mean, here are a few options that the product development team could use for me for the starter model:

Sourpuss Beth
Funny But Clumsy Drunk Beth
Overly Enthusiastic Fag Hag Beth
Hipster Green Eyeshadow-Wearing Beth
Smarter Than Everyone Else Beth
Skiddish, Easily Frightened Beth

2.) If I haven't said it yet, I can say now that I cannot stop listening to the new Ryan Adams CD and it might be a close contender against "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" as my new favorite summer album.

3.) During my shut-in weekends, of which there are far too many, I often find myself staring at Mrs. Puff and wondering what Mr. Puff might have been like. I have finally found the answer to this. Warren from Fox's old series "Greg the Bunny." It upsets me that I can't find a good picture of Warren for Mrs. Puff, or for my loyal readers, but if you happen to come across one, and you want to make a shut-in very, very happy, send it my way!

Greetings from the Shut-In in Lock Down mode

Tomorrow is Pride Day on Capital Hill, which means that there are more than 100,000 proud, proud folks in my neighborhood that are not here the other 364 days of the year. In response, I've bolted my doors, secured two days worth of snacks and hunkered down for a shut-in weekend with Mrs. Puff.

I know this action will officially put me in the "grouchy," or "sourpuss" category, even the "asocial" and "party pooper" subsections of those categories, it's just where I happen to be this weekend. You roll the dice, sometimes you get Sourpuss Beth. I've imbibed more than my share of mimosas along the parade route in years past (In those cases, you roll the dice and get Funny But Clumsy Drunk Beth that will talk your ear off about Duran Duran) and loved cheering on the thousands of gay men in hot pants and body glitter ("Overly Enthusiastic Fag Hag Beth").

Look, this isn't about what my parents would affectionately call "the gays." This is about what I call "the tourists." Thousands of them looking for the parade route. Thousands of them looking for parking to get to the parade route. Thousands of them waiting in line for bloody marys at brunch. Bloody marys I should be drinking without having to wait in line for 2 hours.

Pride Day celebrants -- have a great Pride Day and hold your heads up high not just today but every day of the year. Have fun in our city, catch up with your friends and loved ones, and then, well, head on home as soon as you can. We'll see how my attitude might change the next time pride rolls around.

Actually, maybe it's best if we DON'T do the time warp again...

Last Sunday's "This American Life" featured an installment called "Mortified," a sort-of literary event where people get on stage and read from their high-school era journals. This has the potential for hilarity, right? I mean, like, she's all, you know, yeah, and I'm all, like, wow, and she's all....

As you can probably guess, this prompted me to dig up my journal from high school, mostly from my senior year, and see what embarrassing entries might be hiding in there. IMPORTANT ALL-CAP NOTE to others considering doing this activity: IT'S IMPORTANT THAT YOU BE IN A GOOD MOOD TO BEGIN WITH WHEN YOU DO THIS ACTIVITY.

Otherwise, as was the case for me, this activity will just bum you out and make you wonder what the hell was WRONG with you all through high school. Was it really all this bad? Surely we had good times, guys, didn't we? A few? One? At least?

On young love: "And, if I wasn't before, I am now definintely, officially, head-over-heels in love with David. There's just something about him! Sometimes our eyes meet, and I just turn to Jell-O....In all reality he probably thinks I'm a really good friend who he can talk to...I don't know why I'm staying up so late. He won't call. Why do I put myself through this??"

On angst: "Everything is so fucked up in my life and I hate it. I want everything to go back to normal, where I was at least half-way stable and able to go for at least a week without changing my damned emotions."

On "family": " I miss the security of high school already -- the no-responsibility attitude that someone will always be there to fix your mistakes-type of feeling. I'll miss the newspaper room, the late nights bonding with Joey and Hoolie. Even through the hellish times we had, I've come to see newspaper as this second family of mine. We all loved each other even though we sometimes hated each other, and I truely (sic) don't think I'll ever forget it or the people I met there."

On changes ahead: "Everything is changing now with school and my friends and my family. My once inseperable clique of friends now can't stand being in the same room together. People are going their seperate ways, I suppose. School is slowly winding down. It's scary that next year I will be in a totally different place with complete strangers in a new environment. My so-thought secure world will be over."

On graduation: "'It's over,' as Morrissey says, 'but it never really began.' Up until about a half hour ago, I didn't get teary eyed. Then R left and I felt all empty inside. My mom said she told her parents that I was more like a sister she never had and that only made me cry more. I feel like I should say something, like, write down some deep, insightful thought on this important day, and all I can think about is how R's gone."

Squirrelish Goodness

It's been a pretty ordinary week for Beth, so there's not much to post about. Life just keeps plugging along, which is fiiiine by me. A few items to note, however:

I was surfing around looking for fun blogs and found Someday Is Now, a weight-loss blog. It seems pretty entertaining so far, but I think the main sticking point for me was the fact that this woman has calculated her weight loss to date (and still to go) in terms of SQUIRRELS. Hot damn, that's enough to get me coming back to it every single day.

How much Alone In Your Apartment Time does it take before one can officially be considered agoraphobic? Methinks I am on the edge.

Better head out and burn off a few squirrels.

Perhaps My Domesticity Has Gone Too Far

Yes, I really, honestly, DID make crackers FROM SCRATCH last weekend.

Crackers, you might ask, like Saltines?

Yes.

Why, you might ask? Who makes homemade crackers?

It's like this, I would say, the only reason I made homemade crackers is because my Mark Bittman "How To Cook Everything" book (which is the best cookbook ever written) said they were (and I quote) "RIDICULOUSLY easy" to make. I took that as a personal challenge. I mean, few things in this world are RIDICULOUS easy to make, short of Jell-O and Top Ramen. I had to call him on that claim. Turns out they ARE NOT all that easy to make, in fact it involves making dough and then using a rolling pin (a rolling pin, for God's Sake, immediately rules out all ridiculous easiness) and then throwing them into the oven for ten minutes.

Not hard, but not in the category of the ridiculous.Not all that flavorful either, but that could be remedied with some kosher salt and rosemary next time.

Siiiiiiiiigh. I need hobbies, fast. I need my soul mate, fast. I am blogging about how to make crackers from scratch, people. MAYDAY. MAYDAY. THIS SHIP IS GOING DOWN.

Great idea for Summer 2005

Once again, Andrea Scher's Superhero Journal has provided me with inspiration and kind words. There's something about her writing style and enthusiasm for life that is just infectious, even on my most cynical days, of which there are many.

If you go to her site, the June 7 entry talks about writing yourself a letter entitled "What I Did During the Summer of 2005 That Made Me A Better, Smarter, Happier Person." If you mail her your letter with a SASE, she'll mail it back to you at the end of the summer so you can see how you did.

First off, WHAT A GREAT IDEA. Aren't you already starting a mental list of stuff to do this summer that could be put into that letter? Doesn't it get your wheels spinning around the possibilities and opportunities over the next few months? Especially for Seattleites I think this is a great idea since our summers are so incredibly incredible and unlike anything we'll see for the other 9 months of the year.

I have visions of me leaning against a log at Alki on a sunny hot day watching the waves, listening to Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, my quintessential summer album....it's all good, folks.

A lucky day INDEED

My new issue of Lucky arrived today, which always makes me happy because it unabashedly talks about shopping and girlieness and which cuticle balm is superior without the trashiness of Cosmo or the healthiness of Self.

Which brings me to the fact that they were discussing a superior cuticle cream put out by the UK chemist Boots. Really, Boots is just an ordinary Walgreens-y type drug store, but for Americans abroad it takes on this super-exotic quality becuase it sells -- hee hee -- funny flavored toothpastes and brands of lipgloss we can't get in "the States" and when toothpaste and cough drops become EXOTIC you know you have a good thing going for you.

And. Ahem. I found out that Boots has a Website that you can peruse and buy stuff from. I. Just. Don't. Know. What. To.Do. With. This. Information.

I'm not too proud to help myself

Every now and then (usually after drinking), I get on a self-help book kick. I'm not proud of this trend, but I guess it could be worse. I could, for example, listen to early recordings of Celine Dion over and over while curled up on the floor after I get a little tipsy. Instead I end up at the downtown Barnes and Noble dragging friends over to the "self improvement" section and force them to listen to the wacky titles that Drunk Beth mocks (usually too loudly), but Sober Beth secretly wants to read but is to ashamed to follow through on.

I mean, really, after knocking back a few too many vodka tonics, what single gal doesn't want to find out "All You Need to Know to Make Men Fall Madly in Love with You and Marry "The One" in 3 Years or Less" or "How to Meet Anyone, Anytime, Anyplace"? Lest you think I am joking, these are actual titles I have seen, and proud to say I have never picked up. Seriously. Even at my drunkest.

ANYHOO. This entry is rambling a bit. Point being -- while we're on the topic of self-help books, I'm actually looking to find some good suggestions focusing on success/leadership/management/business. If it specializes in PR and/or marketing specifically, all the better. I never read these types of books, and figured now might be a good time to learn more about how to excel and motivate and succed and....yeah. You get the idea. Books with candles on the cover or quotes from John Gray on the back will be immediately declined. But if you've found a good "Ten strategies to be a better, studlier you" type of book that you found helpful, drop me a note and let me know about it.

Otherwise, dammit, I'll have to get drunk and look for it myself and I think we all know that's not a very good idea.

One goal decided

Beth has finally walked for the cure, alongside 14,000 people -- what a sight! To see the waves of people making their way up the Alaskan Way Viaduct was very powerful and inspirational -- it made me proud to be a part of it. Thanks to all that helped out with a little cha-ching for this great cause.

Still haven't come up with my ideal career path as per Friday's goal, but let me just say for the world to hear that after yet another night of nonstop tossing and turning and lower back discomfort that I have decided that my next major purchase is going to be a new bed. A really good bed, with good sheets and a fluffy-ass down comforter. I'm fed up with my crappy, sub-par bed and I have had it.

Sub-goal related to this larger goal -- research wonders of memory foam, pillow top versus firm, pricing for high-thread-count sheets. Advice? Shopping tips? Horror stories? Shout em out over the next few months while I think about my forthcoming purchase.

Goal: Embrace goals

Today at work I learned about my company's review process, which consists of putting together a set of goals for me over the next 6 months to a year and then breaking those goals into acheivable sub-goals that can be completed to support those bigger, longer term goals.I realize that's a pretty elementary concept, but I am having a hard time getting my simple brain around the idea of essentially making a roadmap (career or otherwise) that would....and this is the wacky part....actually get carried out.

It seems for all of my compulsive list making and goal setting, I'm very bad at breaking down my enormous, generic goals into smaller, manageable pieces. Every year I make a gigantic list of things I want to accomplish, but very few of those items ever get done because there's never a plan or a timeframe for executing them. Instead I just flip through my lists throughout the year wondering why things never get done, and in the end I just feel guilty about all I didn't get accomplished. I'm an extremely ambitious person, with very high standards for what I want to get accomplished, but totally inept at putting the wheels in motion to get things actually started.

You can see how this simple , half hour conversation about the review process has spiraled into a larger life-organizing idea-fest for me. It's going to be a tough weekend of thinking about an action plan that I'm supposed to put to paper next week.

My Goth Sensibilities Are Offended

Excuse me.

I’m all happy for Trent Reznor being awarded several million dollars over….something…but where does he get off showing up all tanned and handsome and Roman-nosed with a BUTTON DOWN SHIRT ON for God’s sake? I mean, Marilyn Manson at least puts in the effort with the freakshow contacts and powder makeup, but Trent? Trent? You’re looking like an extra from a Toyota commercial, amigo, and that is NOT GOOD.

If I were a professional photographer...

I thought about the various people and scenes I saw throughout my day today and wondered if I was a photographer that captured those people and scenes, what would I title the photographs?A sample listing:

Angry Mrs. Puff
Meterosexual drinking coffee
Man with pompadour eating marshmallows out of a bag at the bus stop, Seattle
Tourist with overly long shorts
Brie sandwich, $5
"Big Ass Grapes," Pike Place Market, Seattle
Exhausted mother, Union Street
Keyboard with crumbs, 4:03 p.m.

Yet Another Reason to Love, or Fear, Target

So clearly I've been living, or rather shopping, in a giant solitary cave for the past few years because my local Target store is now selling WINE right next to the kitty litter and granola bars. Good wine too, like my Blackstone merlot that I can't guzzle down enough of. Target even has its own brand of wine-in-a-box that's in this funky well-designed packaging. I'm a big box-wine snob and nothing makes me get all squinty and cringey like a big box of Franzia, but somehow I'm feeling I need to test these little boxes out the next time I'm shopping for batteries and shampoo.

Not sure if it's a good thing that you can buy all of those things in one batch.

Apparently this all got announced back in 2003, so I'm hardly unveiling a secret here, but it sure made my little eyes pop.

Begin the Touching!

Well thank God SOMEONE has some sense over at Fox (and that sentence doesn't come our easily) and they've renewed Arrested Development! I am breathing a giant sigh of relief that this show has not been relegated to the likes of brilliant, well written and cancelled shows like Sports Night that never seemed to pull in million dollar advertising deals.

Well done, Bluth family! Frozen bananas for everyone!

Viva Los Comments!

The joy of commenting on Beth's blog has been returned to the masses. Comment away, loyal readers, and let me know if you have any problems or comments on...the comment process.

Beth finally Races for the Cure

After three years of registering for the Race for the Cure and never actually getting around to, well, actually racing for the cure, Beth has vowed to participate in this year's 5K event on June 4. If you're interested in supporting this cause and making a donation to support me, you can do so here -- just enter my name and it will bring you to my home page where you can submit your pledge.

Don't get too excited at the thought of me RUNNING a 5K (ask anyone who's actually seen me run and they'll probably compare it to Phoebe from Friends), I'll be walking it. No pictures of spastic Beth running around Seattle, even if you make a huge donation. Well, maybe we can talk about that if it's a truly huge donation.

Actually, Britney, I really CANNOT, under any circumstance, handle your truth

Hi again kids. Beth returns! Beth is alive! Given my lack of posting lately, I've decided to go with one randomly-ordered update to keep my loyal readers in the know:

1.) Britney's reality show. Yes, I watched it. It made me feel like the mentally challenged Rosie O'Donnell riding the bus around town. These are not emotions you want stirred up when you're watching television, folks.

2.) I am pleased to report that I am back in the habit of writing morning pages before work. At the risk of sounding all self-helpy, I find that they're really a great way to get myself more "centered" before I head out and face the day.

3.) I went to Portland (okay, Hillsboro) this weekend to help a friend look for a new apartment. Low rents. Ginormous townhomes with beautiful kitchens and fireplaces and patios. Am feeling very low as I now trudge around my 500-square-foot studio in Seattle that is completely void of hip contemporary furniture. Siiiiiiigh.

4.) Rest assured that Beth is looking into getting the comment capabilities fixed on this damned blog.

5.) The new job continues to surprise and amaze me with the unheard-of concept that one's job truly does not have to suck and depress them in a soul crushing, mind numbing manner. It's a concept I have literally never experienced before.

Why yes, since you asked,

I am rather excited about the fact that season five of Dawson's Creek has just been released on DVD.

And yes, I do know I have a serious problem.

NBC's The Office

Have you people been watching this show? I have been meaning to write about it for sometime, but kept forgetting. I have mixed feelings:

POSITIVE : Steve Carell is hilarious.
NEGATIVE : I miss Ricky Gervais. Brilliant as he may be, I'm not sure Steve measures up to the genius that Ricky provided.

POSITIVE: The US show is actually okay to watch and does a good job of capturing the awkward squirmyness factor of the British version.
NEGATIVE: The US show is okay because it is a carbon copy of the British version (note catchy brilliant pun because the show is set in a paper factory). There seem to be absolutely no changes at all made. Just different faces and accents. The intro music is even similar. The adorable young pup still has a crush on the adorable receptionist chick. The Gareth character is still Gareth-like.

NEGATIVE: GOD I MISS GARETH. Can I mention that he, the character of Gareth, has his own Webpage?
NEGATIVE: GOD I MISS TIM, TOO. How frickin' adorable was he?

I think I just made up my mind about the US show. Without Gareth and Tim, I think Beth has to say thumbs down to the US version, even with the antics of Steve Carell.

SIFF Resolution 2005

Every year I make the same resolution. I WILL attend more films at the Seattle International Film Festival! I WILL! I REALLY, HONESTLY, TRULY WILL!

And yet I never do. And every year I march down all proud and giddy with film-geekdom and I buy my tickets by the dozens and then....something happens. I find excuses. Work gets crazy. Someone calls. I get tired and unable to leave my house/nest at 9:30 at night for a showing of some obscure Swedish film I've never heard of. And every year I end of having blown a couple hundred dollars on tickets that are never used. This has happened two years in a row now, which is INCREDIBLY LAME. I KNOW. You don't have to tell me because I walk around all mopey like listening to everyone talk about the great films they've seen and I...well...you get the picture.

And so. It's that time of year again. The SIFF schedule comes out today for 2005 and I have my highlighter pen ready to tear apart the schedule to find the films that I swear to God I WILL SEE. You can check out the schedule here if you'd like. Pass along any recommendations and perhaps I'll see you in line around town basking in the glow that comes from breaking the Film Festival Attendance Curse.

Sake it to me, Baby!

Yes, with enough warm sake in me, I really WILL say that line to you. I'm just sayin'.

Ahem.

As if my subscription to Lucky magazine has not provided life-changing, soul nourishing tip after tip, the April issue featured a mention of a store in San Francisco devoted soley to sake. How amazing would that be? I would love the opportunity to be a sake geek and sit there for hours learning more about this wonderful beverage. It looks like the site features a newsletter, events listing and a number where you can order sake via phone.

I sense the delicate rumblings of a new hobby being formed....

It's time to get things started....

....on the Muppet Show tonight! Or so this article from the BBC says.

Sounds like the Muppets are getting themselves into action with everything from a new movie to a blog to mobile phone wallpaper and ringtones (at least in the UK). Let's hope Kermit and Piggy force the trend to hop the pond into the States so us Muppets junkies can get our fix.

Clearly I am being punished for that last posting

So I stopped at my local health food co-op (how many bad jokes/stories start off like THAT...?), picked up some random things like hand soap, sparkling water, and cabbage, and my bill was $31.THIRTY ONE DOLLARS.

THAT'S U.S. DOLLARS, PEOPLE.

LESSON LEARNED: Organic cabbage costs $2.69 a POUND at the local health food co-op. If you buy three heads of cabbage it will cost your stupid-ass do-good self more than TEN DOLLARS. Whereas if I just walked a few blocks to my local evil corporate soulless grocery store, it would be 49 CENTS a pound.

I'm just sayin'.

I am SO going to hell

Let me just apologize straight away for giggling when I saw a commercial for an upcoming TV movie of the week that features Rosie O'Donnell as the, um, "special" sister of Andie McDowell.

I just....well....it's just...no, it's no good. Even thinking about it makes me chuckle a little.

Open Letter

Open letter to the producers of Evening Magazine, a local news feature show here in Seattle:

To Whom It May Concern,

I was flipping aimlessly through the channels last night when your program caught my attention and made me spit out my gourmet/nutritionally sound and balanced dinner (i.e., cold cereal). It was about the new baby otter at the Seattle Aquarium that is looking for a name.

May I just say, kind sirs, that you cannot in good conscience show a BABY FRICKIN' OTTER and not expect people to squeal and spit out their dinner with the immense CUTENESS that you submit them to. I mean, as if full grown adult otters are not ridiculously cute ENOUGH, what with the eating shellfish off their tummies and their swimming around all cute-like, but to show a BABY OTTER was just too much for me. It bordered on the cruel. Cruel and snuggly and wuggly and precious and who's a baby otter? Who is? Are you? You are??

See?? You've distracted me just THINKING about that damned adorable baby otter.

Therefore, I suggest a short warning be issued whenever you feature the baby otter again on your program, so that I won't have to squeal like a giddy schoolgirl again and dribble my cereal (oops, I meant gourmet dinner) all over my shirt again.

Cheers!

Already smackin' the roof of my mouth

Today on the Food Network I heard about a restaurant in the Mall of America that sells nothing but peanut butter sandwiches. At first I thought, "Hmm, that seems kind of lame," and then I realized that they sell things like raspberry white chocolate-infused peanut butter and then I thought "SWEET JESUS AS IF THERE ARE NOT REASONS ENOUGH TO LOVE THE ALMIGHTY MALL OF AMERICA!!"

I mean, who couldn't use a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich after trekkin' all over that place loaded down with bags from the Gap and Macys? I'm just pissed that I didn't see this store while I was there. I sense a compelling reason to return...

One week later

Yes, it's been a week since last I posted on this thing and I was about to start the entry off by apologizing and groveling for forgiveness, but figured HEY. IT'S BEEN A BIG WEEK, OKAY?

I have started the new job and haven't stopped smiling in two days. I'm exhausted. I'm overwelmed. But so far, everything is gooooooood. The honeymoon phase is in full force and I've decided not to focus on when the glass is going to start seeming half empty and instead just enjoy that I have a darned good glass with something tasty in it and that's ENOUGH for now.

A few non job-related items before I forget to enter them into the blogosphere:

1.) JESUS, someone stop me for just using the term "blogosphere." I just felt some bile rise up into my mouth when I typed that. Sorry sorry sorry.

2.) Does it bother/disturb anyone else out there that Old Navy is using Young MC's classic "Bust A Move" for their summer tunic campaign ("Just Bust a Tunic!")? Surely Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina" is just one step away from being "Funky Cold Capris-a"? Siiiiiiigh. It's not like I'm some old school hip hop expert, but that just seems kind of sad.

Simple joys and change in the air

Today I sat down and ate lunch in a restaurant. Okay, not an actual restaurant. I went to the little food court near my office, ordered my chicken Phad See Eew like I always do and I sat down and ate it in the tiny Thai restaurant. Then I got up and returned to work.

This might seem like a normal, even daily activity. But it was the first time in more than three years that I did not immediately race back to my desk with my food, hurry and snarf it down in three bites in front of my computer, and then immediately return to working.

It was so out of my normal routine that it felt rebellious, like shoplifting. But it was a tiny change that signaled the end of one part of my working day and heralded the beginning of another new one that starts next week.

Sitting down! Eating lunch without feeling sick afterwards! A girl could get used to this.

Random Celebrity Shout Out

I was having a pretty crappy day until I found out that today is Emma Thompson's birthday, and then the day started to seem a little better. I mean, who doesn't LOVE Emma Thompson?

Cheers, Em!

Artfibers

Yes, I have officially become a knitting geek. (Sorry, Jen, I know you're clucking your tongue in disapproval, I'm still sticking with it...)

Wanted to mention an adorable yarn store I found while in San Francisco last week, Artfibers, which was an absolute delight to find. I left feeling grumpy and disappointed only because I was on a budget and didn't get to spend more money at this store -- and man, I wanted to. If you're in the area and feel the need for a yarn fix (I just used the term "yarn fix," I just made myself gag a little...), head up a narrow staircase and you'll be more than pleasantly surprised.

Today's Emotion Is....

Ashamed. Based largely on the fact that I am watching NBC's "Revelations" right now and enjoying it just a wee bit toooo much. Okay, so more like ashamed mixed with giddiness because Television Without Pity will be doing recap of "Revelations."

Also furthering my feelings of shameful giddiness is this book, "Not Proud: A Smorgasboard of Shame" that I found at Urban Outfitters tonight that made me guffaw like a major dork right in the middle of the store.

My favorite "Not Proud" passage? "They say the world would be a boring place if everyone were the exact same. Yet when I think of how interesting I am, and what a pleasure I am to be around, I can't help but realize that a world full of me's would be absolutely brilliant."

So to recap, I am feeling ashamed, giddy and cocky as hell. Watch out world.

I'll be the one wandering in pajama bottoms with the chocolate milk if anyone asks...

It's interesting that in today's modern world, people still seem shocked when I tell them that I enjoy travelling by myself. The reaction I get when I mention that I've taken vacations on my own -- that's right, folks, I mean solo, alone, companionless -- is always one of total disbelief. You did WHAT? By YOURSELF? What did you DO? I mean, what could you POSSIBLY DO ALL BY YOURSELF IN A CITY?

The short answer to that last question is ANYTHING AT ALL. That's the joy of solo travel -- your schedule is ENTIRELY in your hands. If you want to sleep in until 3 p.m. and then go out in your pajama bottoms to a grocery store to buy a gallon of chocolate milk and then go back to your hotel for more sleep, you CAN. If you want to go to the most culturally enriching museums in the world and then hit ONLY the gift shops, you CAN. Feel like going to a zoo and looking only at panda bears? You CAN. Because there's no one to nag you or keep you on schedule or tell you that there are lots of other animals to see at the zoo besides pandas bears.

Is it self-centered? OF COURSE IT IS! That's the joy of travelling by oneself -- the trip is entirely centered around YOUR needs and wants and desires. Does it get lonely? Sure. I can't handle more than two days in a city on my own, it's just too much. Does it compare with travelling in a group or with your special snugglywuggle doodlebear? Not at all, but then again sometimes that's the whole point.

World of Beth Update!

Once again Beth kicks off a blog entry by apologizing for not writing more often, but behold, Gentle Readers! I bring tidings of great joy! Beth is pleased as punch/tickled pink/giddy as a schoolgirl to announce that she has....drumroll please...a NEW JOB!

The glass-half-empty gal inside of me is scared that by typing those very words into the Internet that I have now jinxed myself into oblivion, so that's all I'm going to say about that for now. Let's just say it's a great move and one that's so overdue it's downright ridiculous and leave it at that. Call or write if you want the skinny and I'll share over drinks while trying not to dribble all over myself while giggling with joy.

Other than all of THAT, I have been slammed at work preparing for last week's trade show (went well) and vacation/family reunion in San Fran and Anaheim (both of which also went well). I feel like I'm finally starting to decompress and exhale a bit, but still holding in my breath a little until the nervous tummy feeling goes away. It just doesn't seem quite real yet.

Gotta run, but thanks for all the well wishes so far and I'll keep everyone posted. Now I can finally try and be better about writing more often and posting fun things...like the fact that at my family reunion I actually had to compare what I do for a living to what the girls on PoweR Girls do for a living....

Pint-sized Summer Fun

It must be summer in the city because Larry’s is all decked out with adorable, individually-sized watermelons, which are apparently now all the rage. How could a single girl turn down something like this? Best $1.99 I ever spent.

I've said it before....

...and I'll say it again. Seattle is an awesome place when it comes its libraries. We are just nutso for libraries. Can't get enough of 'em. Yet another great article about the Central Library here.

People ask why I left Colorado, a state that RIOTS when rival college football teams play each other, a state where it's okay to wear a Broncos jersey to the theater...and I draw their attention to the fact that Seattle love its libraries more than it loves its football team. I realize that sounds kind of snotty, but I couldn't think of leaving a town with this much passion for its public libraries. How could I? We're like the nerdy state way up in the corner of America with thick glasses and pocket protectors and our heads buried in an encyclopedia. Ah, Seattle, my dork-infested moss-encrusted homeland, how I love you...

PoweR Trippin'

Lately I've been writing about how sad things are and how sad I feel and how sad my family is and well....you get the idea. I've decided that now is the time to buck the trend and write about something that makes me absolutely giddy -- that is, MTV's new show PoweR Girls.

For those of you NOT obsessed with this new program, it's a reality show about a PR agency in New York that specializes in club openings and celebrities. It follows the young, nubile staff around as they romp around in slip dresses with clipboards launching nightclubs and trying to get Lindsey Lohan's picture into US Weekly.

I've worked in PR for a while now and can safely say that this show is 100 percent totally representative of my experience, in that Paris Hilton is totally representative of farmers and interns and whatever else she does on that show of hers. Yuppers. I've never worn a slip dress in any sort of professional capacity and the only celebrity encounter I had was when I once stood near a guy in a Spongebob Squarepants costume at a trade show. This show really might as well be set in a remote Afghan village for as foreign as it is to any semblance of my daily reality.

Which is why, as I type this, I feel better already, with my weekly infusion of PoweR blaring softly in the background. Ahhhhhhhh.....

A Few Words on Family

Well, I am back from Denver after a very emotional and exhausting couple of days. I was surprised how hard this trip was for me -- I flew in feeling very in control and ready to support my mom and Get Things Handled. Going in, I was sad about my uncle, sure, but we didn't have a particularly deep personal relationship and I hadn't seen him in a long while and certainly not while he was sick.

And yet, sitting in church and looking at his coffin flanked by my aunt and uncle and cousins and their kids, it hit me how much I was going to miss my uncle Steve. And how, despite not being a really integral part of my daily life, he was still such a huge part of my family and that part is gone now, which is such a shame.

So we move on. Or we try to as best we can. I guess the old saying of taking it one day at a time is true, so that's how I'm going about it.

On a related note, I was so moved and touched by the thing that a certain person emailed to me (you know who you are) that I just can't describe it. That was so thoughtful...and so NEEDED. I can't WAIT. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For everything.

Sad News

I feel weird delivering this news over my blog to the ENTIRE Internet, but wanted to tell folks that my uncle passed away on Monday and I'll be heading home for the services this weekend.

I remember writing about him over a year ago when we first learned he had cancer and the doctors had only given him a few months at most. He proved them wrong and really made a terrific effort to live to the fullest in the time he had, surrounded by the folks that loved him most. For that, I truly admire him and think there's a lesson in that approach to life for all of us.

More later, but I'll be taking a few days off to be with the fam. Being home sounds so great right now and being able to be there to support my mom during a really painful time for her feels even better.

A Cat Lady Moment

Being of a certain age (over 30) and a certain marital status (single), I try to make a point of not having long-winded conversations with people about the adorable/annoying things that my cat does. There's a fine line between normal pet owner conversations and Cat Lady conversations and I have crossed over that line on more than one occasion. Like I will right now.

So yesterday morning I noticed that Mrs. Puff has some serious dandruff action going on. She is also shedding like a...thing that sheds a lot. It was not a pretty day for Mrs. Puff. Being as obese as she is, it's tough for her to groom herself. She just seems to have no interest in it, because she knows I will brush her and she is lazy.

So on the way home, I stopped at my fancy-schmancy Capital Hill pet store and bought some pet wipes, which are basically non-toxic Wet-Ones you use on your pet to clean them and condition their fur.

CUE TERRIFYING HORROR MOVIE MUSIC RIGHT NOW. Because the minute those wipes came out of the package, Mrs. Puff's eyeballs popped out of her head and she RAN under the bed as though I had opened up a package of poison-tipped razor blades to insert under her claws. She hid. And screamed. And probably shed tears. And squirmed like she has never been in more pain in her life while I rubbed conditioning NON TOXIC pet cleaner (i.e., not bleach, not acid...) onto her fur. She has no doubt this morning called the ASPCA to alert them of my torturous plans, to (GASP!) WIPE OFF HER DIRTY FUR.

Anyone else had a reaction like this with the whole pet-wipe experience? Anyone at all? Hello, cat ladies?

"...So Shut Up, Live, Travel, Adventure, Bless, And Don't Be Sorry."

I started reading Desolation Angels by Kerouac last night. What a trip. It's like being inside someone's head listening to the rambling cacophony of every strange and incoherant and sometimes beautiful thought coming towards you at full speed all at once. I think it's just what I needed after a rough couple of weeks.

When I very moved to Seattle some eight years ago (whoo!), I saw a van with the quote above painted on it and just last night I came across those words again in this book. I've had the picture of that van on my fridge all of these years and feel a nice sense of serendipity going on where random things coincide at unexpected moments.

Mailbag!

Q: Beth, I notice that you regularly update your list of Things You Do (and Do Not) Enjoy, but never, ever, not even once, have you taken "Eels" off of your list of Things You Do Not enjoy. Fess up. What's your beef with eels?

A: Are you kidding me? Have you ever seen an eel? Take the creepiness of a giant snake, couple it the Underwater Factor where said giant snake can swim really really fast, and then give that giant underwater snake the power of electricity. ELECTRICITY, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. I am getting the heeby-jeebies just typing about eels. Your letter alone gives me the shivers and not in a good way.

Q: What's a supposedly hip 30-something single woman doing watching The Spongebob Squarepants Movie? I would have thought you to have a lot more sophisticated taste in movies than that.

A: Oh Puh-leeze. We can't all watch existential Bergman films all the time. Spongebob is a super-cool subversive (and submersive) yellow ROCK STAR and I love him. I don't like the tone of your letter, it reeks of someone that is accepting of eels. Back off, eel-boy.

Beth Returns to the Blogosphere

Contrary to rumors circulating in certain B-level celebrity circles, I have not fallen off the face of the earth, at least entirely. True its been more than a week since last I wrote, but there just hasn't been much going on. Here are a few highlights:

* I bought what looks like a really nice, and really cheap, chair-and-a-half/ottoman set through Craigslist.
* STILL. HAVEN'T. FINISHED. ANNA KARENINA. That book will be the death of me. Hoping the chair-and-a-half will help me get back on the reading kick.
* Going through massive laptop frustration and thinking about buying a new one maybe later this summer.
* No update on family, which I think is a good thing.
* Had a chance to spend some time catching up with old friends I hadn't seen in a long while, which was very comforting since I've been feeling stretched very thin lately.

Security Scarf

Thank you to those of you over the weekend who listened to me ramble on about my family issues of late, I'm feeling a little better. Still helpless, but better.

I finished a scarf I was knitting for my mom this weekend -- talk about perfect timing -- and mailed it off to her. Figured if I couldn't offer her a security blanket, I could offer a security scarf instead.