Bel Canto

A book about opera and terrorism, you say?

It's good, really!

I lent Never Let Me Go to Amanda not just because of its amazing story, but because of its beautiful prose. She turned to her bookcase and handed me Bel Canto by Ann Patchett.

It was nice to read something so refreshingly different and at the same time so beautiful. Patchett's writing is addictive and pulled me in to the story, the characters, the themes, and the settings. While the story moves rather slowly at times, I never gave up on the book. In fact, I sometimes found myself wishing that my morning commute was a little longer just so I could finish a page or a chapter.

While I've never been one for opera, Patchett seemed to anticipate this. She made the music another character of sorts. You don't have to "get" opera to enjoy this book -- just think about the way that your favorite music makes you feel, and you'll understand.

A Japanese businessman is invited to celebrate his birthday in an "unnamed South American" country at a party hosted by the Vice President. This country is poor, and its leaders are hoping to convince the businessman to open one of his factories there. They lure him there with the promise of a performance by the famed American opera singer Roxanne Coss. It works. But the party is quickly interrupted by terrorists hoping to kidnap the President - but he's not there.

What follows is a story of survival, politics, and love. Bel Canto is wonderful.

Rainy Saturday (Not to be confused with Lazy Sunday)

It's rainy and cold today -- kind of a bummer as it's the weekend, but what are you going to do? Besides metro all the way to Old Town just to get a lovely turkey tom sammich from Jimmy John's, that is. Because I've already done that. How about movie night!

I have found myself watching the same few dvds over and over again, which is comforting and fun, but at the same time a little pathetic considering the fact that I have a ton of dvds. Meh. And while I already have a few comfort movies (The Princess Bride, Sixteen Candles, and Dumb and Dumber), these are soon to be joining that list:

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I love it, and I'm not embarassed to admit it. It is the most innocent of the series and the least scary. The music is wonderful (as it is in all of them), and the kids are so young and cute. I love that I practically know it by heart and that the end still makes me cry a little. I mean, come on -- the photo album? So good.

Home Alone. Now that I have it on dvd, I have watched it more than a few times. I know that I've said it before, but when Kevin puts the tarantula on Marv's face and he screams like a little girl, I laugh like an idiot. Every time. I don't know what it is about this movie that keeps me watching it again and again, except that I know I would have never been so resourceful as Kevin when I was eight years old, that's for sure.

The Parent Trap. While I absolutely adore the original with Haley Mills, I think that I like the remake more. Perhaps that is blasphemous to some people, and maybe it's because I am from a different generation than my mother (well, obviously), but this update is adorable and also makes me cry. It's also nice to witness the impressive acting talents of Lindsay Lohan in her pre-skank years. "Sisters? Halley, we're like, twins!" And... scene.

I'm thinking that I might branch out and watch something else tonight, though.

Yeah, right.

Reflections

Ah, Mount Fuji. Lovely, tranquil.

When is the last time you looked at yourself? I mean, really stopped to examine who you are? I've been doing a lot of stopping lately - call it soul-searching, examining, wondering, whatever. You never really know when you're going to start a journey of self-discovery, and I suppose you have to be ready to uncover things about yourself that you aren't all that proud of. I unearthed some things about myself, and for the most part, I'm happy with who I am. But I know that I have a long way to go to becoming the person who I'm meant to be.

I love that I am a passionate person. I cry at movies (okay, almost all movies, some TV shows, and a few commercials here and there), I believe in my work, I let music guide me, and I love when the guy gets the girl. When I feel strongly about something, I want people to feel as I feel. But being passionate has its drawbacks, too. I tend to assume that things should be perfect. They're not. Neither are people. It's ridiculous to think that everything is going to end up exactly as you planned. Maybe once in a while, things end up just great. Just peachy. But you know that there were variations, you know that something went wrong before something better went right. Learning to accept that is something that I know I need to work on.

I love that I worked my ass off to get where I am. Sure, school was tough, but I made a few amazing friends - friends that are spread out all over the place. Moving to DC was ballsy, especially not knowing anyone. And yes, I work for one of the most famous institutions in the world. Things are good, right? You'd think. I'm getting to be too complacent. I'm starting to wonder what else is out there. What am I really accomplishing from 8-5:30 every day? Taking risks has never been something that I've been all about, but I have definitely come to the realization that making things happen for yourself is just as big of a risk as not doing anything at all. Michigan, I'm coming back. I hope you're ready.

I am waaaay too serious sometimes. Man, you should have seen me in high school. You think that I'm uptight now? Good LORD. I've always been petite, but I had glasses and braces (and several other fantastic torture devices from my orthodontist. Wow, did I despise him) to boot. Oh, and I think that my forehead is ginormous. I grew up as the butt of jokes, starting in elementary school. Short jokes, forehead jokes (my favorite was being called Steven Seagal in sixth grade. GET IT?), braces jokes, etc. I soon built up a defense. Well, what I thought was a defense. Being a kid hurts, and I got angry. Now? I wish I hadn't worn my emotions on my sleeve as much. I got so defensive, it's all I really knew. And I think that I got mean. The worst result of this was that I had a hard time learning how to take a joke. That has really followed me to this day. Taking things so damn seriously impacts everyone around me. And really - isn't life too short for that?

Patience. Here's a big one. I am so NOT the poster child for patience. Add that one to the list.

But I like so many other things about myself. I love unconditionally, without question. I trust people. I try to treasure each moment. I believe in people - I really think that most people will come through for you in the end. And I believe in myself. I know that I have a lot to give and I want to make people happy. I want people to be proud of me. I want to be proud of myself.

This is a Good One, Too

Blogger's Block?

I always thought that writer's block was something that only afflicted college students and magazine writers. I never anticipated having such a long break between posts -- it just happened. I just haven't wanted to write. Now, that annoys me a little. It's like saying that I just haven't wanted to read. Or *gasp* that I haven't wanted to do a sudoku puzzle (I love them. So addicted). I think that the culprit is my mind-numbingly dull completely bored-off-my-ass job. So the job search has begun. And it's not going well AT ALL. Did you know that the Michigan economy is probably the worst in the country right now? Yep. Trying to find a job there is a great move, Heather. Good plan.

I also seem to be stuck in a daily routine. Wake up, hit snooze three times, shower, get ready, work, come home, eat, sleep. It's dull and I think that it's making me cranky. But I am tired of bars and happy hours and I am trying to save money, so shopping and such is basically out. I think that I might start walking to work and changing when I get here. It's gorgeous in the mornings, and I hopefully won't feel like such a slug. Maybe take some more pictures too (of things other than my niece). I need to get my mind back in order!

Not that I have too many pictures of my niece - I only take about forty pictures each weekend that I see her. That's not that many. It could be worse. I could be officially dubbed, "Crazy Picture Aunt." Oh wait. That already happened. Well then, I feel that is my right - nay DUTY - to post pictures of my niece. She's almost a year old and it's freaking me out!

I'd bet that bowl tastes amazing. Mmmm... molded plastic...

And here's a random picture! Pine trees pop up in the unlikeliest of places. Unless you meant to plant it behind the garage next to the neighbor's fence. Which is true in this case. I suppose that when my dad and brother were planting it there over ten years ago, he figured that he or my brother would mow it down eventually. Huh.

I braved the crowds down at the Tidal Basin just to get some pictures. And it was worth it. I walked from the American History Museum past the Washington Monument and strolled over to the Tidal Basin. Crawling with tourists, I was expecting to move about four feet a minute. Not true! If someone wished to take a picture of the pink and white flowers, they simply moved to the side of the walk. SERIOUSLY. What do you mean, Heather? They didn't stop in their tracks in the middle of the sidewalk causing a backup of khaki shorts and black socks? Well, a few did. But not enough to cause a full-blown traffic jam. It was kind of weird, though, moving along at a snail’s pace like an amoeba. But it was a beautiful day with a slight breeze and everyone seemed to have a smile on their face.

It's really a lovely picture, no?

Destruction!

With 40-mph winds today, I definitely had trouble walking. But I didn't anticipate coming home to this:

The tree to the right (covered in ivy) is super tall and apparently very brittle. It splintered and rained down upon our back porch. Here's a closer look:

Took me twenty minutes to clean it all up. And to top it all off, one of the monster branches broke one of the planks in the porch and I almost got stuck. If my feet were even slightly larger... Well, I wouldn't have to wear children's shoes if that were the case...

To seal the deal on a not-so-perfect day, the Orkin man cancelled on us and we have to wait another two days for him to come and find the rotting mouse (or rat - oh, I hope not!) trapped somewhere in our bathroom. I suspect it's under the under-the-sink cabinets and if I had a crow bar, I would have checked for myself. The smell is horrifying. Thank goodness my guests aren't coming until... oh, wait. They're coming tomorrow! Well, EmFace and Adam, I hope you like the smell of death! Welcome to DC!

F the F Off

K-10's job sucks, but luckily she'll be starting grad school in the fall (congratulations again, sloot!). We decided that she should spend as much if not more time writing her letter of resignation than she spent on her essay for King's College. Here's what I came up with (the craptastic formatting is thanks to gmail chat - I can't fix it without retyping the entire thing, and frankly, I don't feel like it):

Um, Hi. Remember me? I'm K-10. I do more work than you'll ever imagine. I do whatever I'm told and I never get a break. I interview people to work above me, I don't get raises, and I have to do everyone's shopping. So, I hope that you have a great time finding the twelve people to replace me, because that's the amount of work that I do. The work of twelve people! I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. F off. F the f off! Bye!


I don't know why, but "f the f off" made us laugh like idiots.

Polite = Free! I think...

A month or so ago, I was waiting in a fairly long line at the Chinatown Chipotle. The line really didn't matter - I had been thinking about my veggie burrito all morning while wasting away at work. So there I am, lah di dah, waiting. I get up to the front, order my stuff ("extra rice, please!"), and about halfway down the assembly line (I am so a Detroit girl), this Manager-type guy says,

"Hello! Thank you for coming in today!"

Now, I don't know what I said in return. I'm sure I said hello. I know I said something about guacamole (because, YUM), but I don't know what else. I think that I might have said the magic word he was waiting for, because when I made it to the register and got my cup to fuel my Coke addiction, the cashier said, "Thanks for coming in today!" as he handed me my bag o' burrito.

"How much?" I asked.

"It's on us today!" he chirped back at me.

"No, no... that's okay." as I push my money toward him.

Manager-type guy comes over and says, "I've got it today. You can pay next time."

"...Okay. Thanks!" I backed away slowly a few steps before finally turning around.

What did I say or do? I mean, I always make it a point to be polite in restaurants of any kind - I see no reason for why people can't be nice. Hell, I even say "please" and "thank you" in the McDonald's drive-thru. Was this a reward for being nice? Or was I just the one hundredth person in line?


I guess it wasn't such a surprise - I chalked it up to good luck and good timing. But I went to Chipotle this past Tuesday night - after working an hour later than usual - and the line was a little longer than I expected because a Wizards game started in a half hour. So I jumped in the line, busied myself with texting, and slowly made my way to the front of the line.

Halfway down the assembly line, who do I see? Manager-type Guy. He smiles.

"Thanks for visiting us again!" he exclaimed perkily.

"Yeah!" I can't believe he remembers me.

He nods something to the cashier. I SWEAR.

I stepped up to pay, and the exact same thing happens.

"Hi, good to see you!" (He apparently remembers me too) . "Thanks for coming in today! It's on us!" Same cashier.

"Really? Thanks!"

And I left.

I love Chipotle. Don't you?

~ ~ ~

Another good story involves me and the smoothie stand in Union Station's Food Court. I love their smoothies. Fresh strawberries with strawberry frozen yogurt. Sometimes I get bananas, too. YUM. The owner knows me - I get one at least twice a week. He now gives me an orange with each smoothie.

That probably has more to do with being a repeat customer than having good timing. But I'll take it!

Verbatim, part 2

Another amazing email (someone had responded to him about financial aid or something, and this is his response):

Hullo thank you for your correspondence you give me, but what i need from you is that, l am a male , 22years old from Uganda, Africa, who need to fall in relationships with a white lady from either Europe or america plus canada. i need help from you to solve that issue either to give me does email addresses and i contact them or if you have other ways to get them,i need your help. Thanks
yours
semanda.

Verbatim

This is, word for word, what someone sent to the work email account last night. It's pretty sweet:

"Any girl scout can graduate from scythe over corporation, but it takes a real toothpick to living with ocean.If stalactite beyond host living with ski lodge, then briar patch around sandwich hides.Furthermore, defined by fire hydrant dies, and for satellite conquer chain saw beyond food stamp."

Ah, philosophy. I hope that he/she applies for an internship.