Boring!

This week has been super dull after the weekend of pain (okay, and fun. Weekend of pain and fun. Huh. There's a sexual joke in there that I just can't bring myself to make). Anyway, to prove my boringness, here are some pics from this week:

Phillips Hall, GWU. I laughed like an idiot.
And I reflected myself in the window quite nicely, eh?
Evidence of why I need to take a photography class, really.

The remains of my dinner with Merrick.
That's right. I hate the WHOLE SAMMICH.
Quite a feat for me. Quite.

Greg and Julie are in DC this week for a wedding,
so I popped down to the mall to see them today to pose with Greg.
I love working so close!

And that's about it for me. I have a weekend of craziness ahead of me. Well, crazy if you consider drinks at Bar Louie, shopping at Eastern Market, and sleeping "crazy."

Oh, and I'm reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone again. Watch out for this girl!

So. Much. Pain.

Lake Michigan lighthouse and Heather

Okay, so the pain has since subsided, but let me just tell you: if the owners of a kayaking company tell you that the trip is "going to be a very strenuous workout," LISTEN TO THEM.

Let me start at the beginning (cue the wavy lines):

Last week, the Lady and I drove from Detroit to Athelstane, Wisconsin to spend the weekend camping, kayaking, and white water rafting. My cousin Holley (30 years old today!) set it up as a way for us all to save some money while helping her celebrate her milestone. Considering that her original plan was to spend her 30th in Europe, I'm thinking that it was a good choice (well, money-wise).

Suspension-y

Sure, the Mackinac Bridge is amazing, but once you arrive in the Upper Peninsula, things get a little weird:

Little meat pies, not twirly boobie stickers.
Too bad though -- I need new ones.

After nine hours in the car, we met up with my aunt & uncle and our family friend Di and immediately headed to the hotel bar. What? It was a long drive!

After spending the rest of the evening at a brewery with my Uncle Mike, we woke up refreshed, drove an hour to Kosir's to meet up with the rest of our group (twenty-two people!), and set up camp. And had some beer(s).

There were eight tents, in total.
It was like a freaking commune.

It was soon time for the "funyaking." Now, in their defense, they really did try to dissuade us from going, and even offered to let us raft two days in a row instead, but we were apparently too stubborn (read: stupid) to listen.

"Before." Obviously. Because we're still smiling.

I don't know how many people are familiar with the way rivers are measured, but I'll make it simple: Very good, very high water levels here are measured up to a 42. Very bad, very sucky levels are down to a -7. At -7, trips are cancelled.

The Peshtigo River was at a -6. A NEGATIVE SIX, people.

And we still went.

A trip that should have taken an hour and a half took FOUR HOURS. We put in and were stuck on rocks within seconds. It was almost surreal. After a few minutes of rocking back and forth, you'd free yourself, celebrate your victory over mother nature and her goddamn devil rocks, and then promptly get stuck again. Within seconds! I am not kidding!

I actually thought that it was fun and laughed each and every time I found myself marooned, but near the end, I was close to tears when my arms just stopped working. I was so tired and so frustrated that I just waited for one of the guides to free me. Once I finally finished and trudged back to the campsite, I had to ask the Lady to comb out my hair because I couldn't do it myself. Seriously. My arms would not work. It was hell.

We made up for it that night:

(Okay, I snapped this in the bar the night before. Whatever.)

Also, I'm twelve.

We rafted the next day, on the Menominee River. We put in on a spot in Wisconsin and finished in Michigan. That was pretty cool. Again, the water was lower than usual, so it was slow-going at first. Luckily, the Menominee is dam-fed so we weren't dragging ass like on the FREAKING PESHTIGO River.

We tore through Piers Gorge, the biggest drop, twice. I sat in the front for the second trip. It's a good thing that someone was instructed to hold on to the two morons in front, because my foot came dislodged and I got some sweet air.

It was a bit of a disappointment, especially for those who had rafted elsewhere (my cousins in West Virginia and the Lady in Colorado). There was one major "white water" area and it seemed like nothing more than a water ride at an amusement park.

But then, a massive bald eagle flew above us and all was forgotten.

We returned to camp, lit stuff on fire, and drank ourselves into oblivion. Well, not me. After an hour at flip cup, I was DONE and went to bed around 2:00. (Oh, and does the fact that we had three separate games of euchre going at one time make us nerds or totally awesome?)

Yeah, I kept that baby roaring.
What can I say? I love FIRE.

You simply cannot trust people who are doing shots of peach schnapps to remember to put the food away before going to bed. They were doing a shot for each trick they won in euchre. That's... a lot of alcohol.

I loved seeing my cousins - now that Holley is in Wisconsin and Christin is in Arizona, we only really see each other at Christmas (and sometimes not even then. Holley works for the airlines and is almost always working on Christmas Day).

It doesn't matter that the water was low or that the drive was long - that's not what it was about. It was a blast!

Pizza Pizza

My coworker ordered pizza for lunch today and offered me a slice. Score. However...

I don't know if it's because I already ate or because I had Little Caesar's when in Michigan, but hot damn! Domino's sucks!

When I lived the dorm life, Domino's was the only way to go - with tax, a large pizza cost $7.41 and arrived in fifteen minutes (and it goes without saying that the delivery guy got a whopping 59 cent tip. Sorry about that, guy. I mean, the Lady would send me "pizza money" every so often, but I spent it on booze. I mean, books. Books and copy cards). Maybe we were just used to the mediocrity, or maybe we were too cheap to shell out for Papa John's, I DON'T KNOW. But honestly, it wasn't that bad. I guess that the fact it was founded just a city away might have upped the stomachability quotient.

Even though it was complete crap, I do recall that ordering Domino's at a sleepover made the host unbelievably cool. We would eat our grease bombs while playing Mall Madness, Girl Talk, and Dream Phone. I may have had a Saved By the Bell game as well, but I totally don't remember. (But OMG if you picked the right card, ZACK was your date!) Some of those games, as well as covers of some of The Babysitter's Club books, prominently featured Domino's. It was a massive mind fuck, really. Though I guess that could be said of much of the early 90s after all...

(Okay, that link to the SBTB game is amazing. The author kills me: "They threw in a driver's ed spot too, but as any fan knows, these kids crash through houses after one beer.")

Right, so in conclusion: Domino's sucks, Little Caesar's rules, and Pressman Toy Corp. warped our fragile little adolescent minds into thinking that Zack Morris was a dreamboat when it should have been clear that he was a spoiled hornball who probably harbored numerous diseases and would break our hearts if something better (Kelly Kapowski) appeared after breaking up with Jeff from The Max.

Although he did turn down pot from Johnny Dakota. D.A.R.E.!

Whatever. I'm going to go take some caffeine pills now. "I'm so excited!"

Peshtigo!

It's like Mahwah!

In a few short hours (oh sweet Jebus, please let them be short), I'm off to lovely Wisconsin for some camping, some kayaking, and some white water rafting. It's a weekend-long celebration in honor of my fabulous cousin, Holley, who is turning the big three-oh and is now over eleven years cancer-free. (!!!)

I've never been white water rafting or kayaking, so this should be an experience for the books. I have a feeling that I am going to be a little sore and/or sunburned after the excursions, but after seeing the "best dressed rafter" on the company's website, I'm not worried. She looks so happy! And white-trashy! I plan on dressing like her and it will all be SO WORTH IT:

SEXY.

I don't exactly have "tennis shoes" that look like hiking boots, nor do I have lipstick in that particular shade of whore, but I will so be buying myself a super fly glasses strap when I arrive! I don't plan on wearing mom jean shorts, though. Those look, um... painful.

On Sunday, I found myself in an insane cleaning/straightening up/organizing mood, and so that's when I packed. I'm not sure that this was a good or a bad decision. It's good, mostly because Merrick and I made dinner last night and I was way too exhausted and full of wine (Delicious wine? Exactly.) to pack, but it's bad because I can't actually remember what I packed.

There is a good possibility that I will find myself standing on the banks of the Peshtigo River wearing six tank tops and no pants. Granted, packing while hopped up on chardonnay probably would have yielded the same result. I definitely almost forgot my bikini until I saw it hanging on the back of the bathroom door this morning, so who knows what surprises lurk in my suitcase.

And because the cost of flights into Madison from DC are the industry's way of sweetly asking us to bend over, I am flying into Detroit instead. Tomorrow morning, bright and early (I heard the words "six," "a," and "m," but subconsciously chose to ignore them), the Lady and I are motoring our way north on I-75 and then west through the Upper Peninsula. I'm pumped! Besides Maine, the UP is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. Oh sexy little camera, I hope that you are prepared!

(Oh, and P.S.? Northwest? If you fuck up my flight, there will. be. BLOOD. YOURS. Mwuhaha! Mahwah!)

Extras

For anyone annoyed with the vague ending of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, here are some tidbits for you to ponder...

(As scarce as it was, I loved the epilogue, so this info just makes it all the better in my mind!)

Solution!

Just call me MacGyver.

Last week, work was just painful, but Thursday was the worst. It dragged. And dragged. And the only thing that kept me going was the little recipe I had concocted in my head. Well, that and the TWOP recaps of "Ugly Betty." Sweet Moses, that show is hilarious.

I couldn't wait to get home and make my planned dinner - a mini homemade pizza on soy pita bread. It was going to be glorious: olive oil, grape tomatoes, shallots, fresh mozzarella, and fresh basil.

(Can we just talk a bit about how much I love fresh mozzarella? It is one of the few cheese varieties that doesn't send me to bed early with stomach cramps. And calcium! Yay!)

I preheated the oven, drizzled some olive oil on the pita, and tossed it in the oven to crisp up a little. I chopped veggies, sliced the mozzarella, tore the basil, and went to check on the pita.

Nothing. No heat. No toasty pita goodness.

Huh?

Now, I am lucky enough to have a lovely gas stove. When apartment searching a few months ago, I distinctly recall telling Jen that I had one demand, and one only: a gas stove. You wanna-be chefs know how it is - electric stoves suck!

I no suck.

I was also lucky to grow up with a gas stove and learned their inner machinations early on. I can re-light a pilot light with the best of 'em. Well, pilot lights for the burners.

I knew that the pilot light in the oven was out and that deadly gas was filling the kitchen with each second! Time was an issue! I was hungry, dammit!

Problem was, the pilot light for the oven was way in the back. On the bottom. My arms? Like T-Rex.

Rawr!

I didn't want to singe my arm off, but had no way to recreate the wire match holders that The Lady always used to light candles and pilot lights.

Or had I?

Yes, that's a match taped to a piece of linguine.

(It worked, by the way. My pizza was glorious.)

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

Hmmm.

Well, it was long. Over 1000 pages, and it took me a very long time to read (it's been a few months since I first cracked it open). It sat on my shelf numerous times as I read other books. I wasn't really compelled to read it, and there were days when I would only read a chapter at a time.

It seems like I am composing its death sentence here, yes? It sounds like it's not worth the effort, right? On the contrary...

This book was excellent. BUT. It is not for everyone. Let me just start by saying that many online reviewers have pegged Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell as "Harry Potter for adults."

No no no no no. NO.

The only thing that this book shares with Harry Potter is magic. And that is all. And it certainly isn't the same kind of magic found in Harry Potter. If you want a quick read, then... well, read Harry Potter. This is not a quick or easy read. It is difficult and time-consuming, and it must be read very carefully (there are footnotes, people. Footnotes!), but it is SO worth it.

Susanna Clarke has created a masterpiece that feels like a historical text at times (she uses people and events from history, like Napoleon, Lord Wellington, and the Battle of Waterloo), and like fantasy at others (faeries, other worlds, incantations). And concurrently, by diligently sticking to the social norms of the time, she has created a text in the style of Jane Austen. It is unlike anything I have ever read.

JS&MN is - to completely overuse the word - magical. Its writing is absolutely superb. There were slow parts, yes, but Clarke's prose made even the dullest subjects interesting. The social commentary, the historical details, and above all else, the character development, make this book one of the best I've read in years.

What is about, you ask?

Magic.

Set in the early 19th century, magic has been absent from England for hundreds of years. The mysterious departure of the Raven King, a man brought up in the land of Faerie, removed magic from the lands. Learned men study theoretical magic, but no one has actually been able to practice magic - not for lack of trying, however. They are just unable to make magic work.

When Gilbert Norrell sweeps into London from Yorkshire, determined to prove that he is the only worthy magician in all of England, he demands that all theoretical magicians cease their studies immediately. With help, he quickly climbs the social and political ladder, proving himself indispensable to both the Prime Minister and Lord Wellington. His popularity is at an all time high after performing magic to help a man and his new bride.

But when Jonathan Strange enters his circle and grabs London's attention, Norrell seeks him out immediately. You see, Strange announced that he, too, is a magician, and Strange is threatened. Strange becomes Norrell's student, and while Strange is eager to make advances in his studies, Norrell cuts him off from his famed Yorkshire library, limiting Strange to theoretical texts only.

And the practice of magic is strictly forbidden.

As you might imagine, Strange does not take well to this prohibition and before long, the plot thickens, as they say. Strange begins dabbling in darker forms of magic and soon the world around him changes, his loved ones change, and he puts the whole of Europe in a panic.

Norrell is a fascinating character in that his pride and social ineptness have removed him from society and severely limit his abilities to be a leader. When challenged, as he soon is, he retreats into a world of secrets and refuses to give up power. He desires change, but is terrified to return to the past -- the past of the powerful Raven King.

Strange also desires change, but he will stop at nothing to get it.

Don't let yourself revert back to college by ignoring footnotes -- the information included there is almost always important to the plot, because it includes stories and lore of the Raven King's past. (Not a spoiler - the Raven King is kind of a big deal.)

I can say with all certainty that some people are going to be underwhelmed with this book. It moves slowly, plot points seem to fade away, and there doesn't seem to be much going on. At the same time, others will gobble this book up.

If you feel yourself losing interest, or wondering when it's going to pick up the pace, do try to stick with it. It is immensely rewarding.

Peace

This is kind of a weird thing to write about, but a distant member of my family, a man I don't remember and never met, was murdered recently.

He loved the outdoors, and found peace there. He loved his daughter. He was a good man. He put his life on the line to save the lives of others, and his sacrifice has delivered him to God.

I didn't attend his funeral, but my mom sent me a poem that was read at the service. As someone who feels most at peace when in nature, I had a strong connection with its message. I hope that my second cousin, Richard, is now at peace.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water,
and I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

-Wendell Berry

Post-Harry Depression

I'm done.

I picked up my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at 12:10 this morning, read until 6:30, slept until noon, and finished it at 6 this evening. I am happy that it's finished, upset that it's over, and 100% completely satisfied with the outcome. It was perfect.

I must say, also, that I was pretty much right on with my predictions. A few missteps, but I guess I can't be right all of the time. Hrmph.

That's all I'm going to say. I'll wait on my review for a few weeks - I don't want to give away a single thing to any of those snail-like readers out there :)

OMG though, people. FINISH it so we can discuss!

My Predictions (or, I Am a Huge Nerd)

The Lady teaches fifth grade, and so had already been on the Harry Potter bandwagon for a few years. She had been trying desperately to get me to read them, and I kept blowing her off. One summer, during my college years, we were camping near Jackson, MI. I had forgotten to bring something to read and she confidently handed me Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (she had the first two books in the car - to bully me into reading? I don't know...)

By nightfall, I had completely devoured it and had started on Chamber of Secrets. Eventually I ran out of light, and had to sit my ass just inches from the campfire so I could make out the text.

Yes, I am awesome.

This series has always been a classic tale of good versus evil. It closely follows the monomyth (or Hero Myth) formula, and in this pattern, the hero does not die. He is tempted to quit, considers the "dark side," and hates his life at times, but eventually comes to accept his fate.

I am actually going to be waiting in line on Friday night, BECAUSE I AM JUST THAT AWESOME, and Amanda will be joining me. I'm not sure if she agreed to accompany me because of the drinks we'll be getting beforehand or the fact that she gets to borrow it when I'm done, but either way, I'm glad!

I mean, it's not like I'm dressing up or something (I'm really not). But I will take pictures of anyone who does! So if you're planning on being in costume at the Borders at Metro Center... beware!

I recently had an hour-long conversation with my dad about the series, and asked him if he could remember anything like this phenomenon in his lifetime. He mentioned getting excited about reading the Narnia books, and read them one after another, but they had been published a few years before he was old enough to read them, so he never had to wait for the next book. Plus, advertising certainly wasn't what it is now. When you add in the popularity of the films, in his opinion, nothing like this has ever happened before.

And it's over a book, people. A book!

The Harry Potter series is accessible, enjoyable, and teaches good lessons. This series got my teenage brother to put down Maxim (well, for a little while, anyway). This series got kids excited about reading again, and once they finished the series, they moved on to other books (His Dark Materials trilogy, anyone? OMG READ THEM). This series paved the way for similar books.

This series has captivated so many.

It's sad that it's coming to an end, but it's far from over. Like Narnia, kids will be reading this series forever. And they'll be better off for it! (Grumble, grumble, walking to school uphill both ways...)

So. Anyway. My predictions for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

1. Harry will live, but not after considering a move to the dark side. He will defeat Voldemort after the tragic death of a mentor and friend (Hagrid).

2. Ron and Hermione will live... and live happily ever after together.

3. Hagrid, Snape, Wormtail, and Lucius Malfoy will die. And some OOTP members and Death Eaters for good measure. And, unfortunately, a member of the Weasley family.

4. Snape is GOOD and will sacrifice himself for Harry.

5. I will cry.

I can't wait.