So this is what "intensive" means

Wow. This publishing course is no joke. I don't know whether I'm coming or going. For all I know, I'll wake up tomorrow and it will turn out that I only dreamed that I posted to my blog. Eesh.

Does anyone who reads this blog go to Stanford? Is the dorm food always this good?

Is it the first day of the rest of my life yet?

So in about 2 hours, I'll be checking into my dorm on the Stanford campus--my home away from home for the next 10 days while attend the Stanford Professional Publishing Course.

Yesterday I cleaned out my desk at The Planning Shop. All of my snow globes, my box of Farrah Fawcett heads, my stacks and stacks of crap--gone. Boxed up. There's no sign of Deborah in The Planning Shop office other than my shadow box from team-building day. That and the weird dog smell.

In 12 days, I'll be boarding the plane to Dublin. I plan to sleep on the transatlantic flight. Sleep and dream of leprechauns.

So if I don't blog much over the next couple of weeks, it's because I'm busy learning, networking, and experiencing life-changing events. And if I do blog much, it's probably because learning means reading (and we all know how I feel about reading), networking is scary, and life-changing events have pretty much been the norm this year. Either way, I'll be having a great time.

Wild Like Children

Mir and I went to see Tilly and the Wall last Saturday. It was my last hurrah in the city before I leave for Dublin. They played at Cafe du Nord, which is 2 blocks from my old apartment. No, there weren't any tears (not from me), but it did contribute to the growing general feeling of "Wow. I'm leaving the country. And my hometown. For, like, a long time. Cool!"



Sure we could have gotten a better picture, but I really didn't feel like muscling my way through a bunch of sweaty hipsters. Sheesh, what a fashion show. And hair show. Good music though. It's hard to beat the poppiest of pop combined with tap dancing. Even if the tap dancer might as well have been holding a big cardboard sign that read "Look at me! I'm super cool!" Listen, sweetie, you're already a tap dancing percussionist for a pop band. From Omaha. We know you're cool. You don't have to convince us. Now take off the tutu.

Mine eyes have seen all kinds of stuff

Ozzy update: it's a miracle!

We went to the doggie opthamologist this morning, and Dr. M. told us that Ozzy's got 100% vision in his right eye and 90% in his left eye. The side effects of the prednisone--lethargy, general mopey-ness, peeing like there ain't no tomorrow--will subside as we lower the dosage over the next couple of weeks. He will need to take a low dosage of prednisone for the rest of his little doggie life, but it won't have any of these adverse effects on him. It will just keep his little doggie eyeballs from breaking again. Good boy!

I'm seriously not kidding

Oh crap--it just hit me that I'm going to really miss some people when I move to Dublin in a few weeks.

Like, *really* miss some people.



Can you guess who I'm anticipating missing right now? That's right--Dolph Lundgren.

This one's for you, my once and always doppelganger.

Knee-deep in the hoopla

We go together like, um, public beaches and illegal fireworks. Together forever like, er, 12-packs of Bud Light and illegal fireworks.

Spending the 4th of July at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk was as fun and entertaining as it was surreal and terrifying. The fireworks display after sunset was huge, impressive, and in no way approved or regulated by any official body. The quarter-mile long stretch of beach was occupied by dozens upon dozens of pyromaniacs equipped with large and loud illgotten fireworks. As long as you stay aware and be ready to run if you see someone sprinting away from a box or tube or anything smoking or with a fuse, you'll probably be safe. And the view can't be beat.

Ozzy update: Poor guy. His vision seems to be returning, at least some of it. It looks like he's responding well to the steroids that the opthamologist prescribed, but the pills are making him feel and act out of sorts. Our next eye doctor appointment is scheduled for Saturday morning. He's a real trooper, that's for sure!

Slightly more pathetic than he was last week

Question:

"What did you do this weekend?"

Examples of acceptable answers:

"I saw a movie and went for a hike."

"Met some friends for dinner and drank way too much."

"Nothing really--puttered around the house and did laundry."

"Ran around doing errands, took the kids for ice cream, watched the ball game."

And then there's my answer:

"I woke up Saturday morning and my dog had gone blind."

Seriously. Blind as bat. Blinder, actually. Only Ozzy could experience spontaneous blindness. One diagnosis of two detatched retinas and a prescription for prednazone later, his eyesight is slowly returning. I wish the same could be said of my sanity and low blood pressure.

Thankfully, he's not in any pain. I think he's rather enjoying all of the extra attention. "Here, Oz, have some hamburger. Let me carry you to bed, buddy." I sure do love that accident and illness prone dog. Even when he's got goofy eye.

That's what I get for eating Taco Bell before bed

I had a dream that I was falling. It wasn't one of those falling dreams where you suddenly wake up all startled and covered in sweat right before you hit the ground. I dreamt that I was on this falling team lead by Heather Graham. I think it was the Heather Graham from Scrubs, not the Heather Graham from Drugstore Cowboy or Boogie Nights. We had these lime green and black spandex suits, and we jumped feet first from a platform in outer space. Then we continued to free fall for the equivalent of 14 miles--this was the part of the dream that actually took a long time. I remember the fall, and it took like 20 minutes. But that's probably only like 10 seconds in dream time. At the end of the fall,we landed in a body of really cold water (we're talking Fall Creek, Oregon cold), still feet first. In order to keep my lungs from freezing or collapsing, I kept repeating this rhyme in my head. Sadly, I couldn't remember the rhyme when I woke up, but that would have been awesome. I swam away from the landing site, and then Heather Graham told us what a great job we all did and high fived all of us. Then we stood around talking about how far we had come as a team.

Lover Girl

I got back from Minneapolis last night. Spending the weekend with the lovely and talented Richman Family allowed me to get my fill of baby for the next little while. Babies (at least this baby) are like crack. No, actually, they're more like Taco Bell. Addictive and super tasty, and more time you spend with them the worse your tummy hurts. Or maybe that was all the taffy we ate. Either way, I just can't me enough of that baby. At least I was able to buy a pound of taffy to bring to Ireland. If only I could buy a pound of baby. Sigh.



Check her out. What a sweetie pie. It turns out we have a ton of things in common. We both love our mommies, and we're both all about giving high fives. And then there's the chocolate.



Well, I think you know how we feel about chocolate.

The other reason I love Minneapolis

Why I love Minneapolis

Nice melons! High five!

I love cartoons. Sure, I could be a snob and say that I love animated shows for adult audiences, which is more accurate and doesn't conjure so much the image of me sitting 6 inches from the TV eating cereal and watching Bugs Bunny. But while I love The Venture Brothers and Home Movies, have a soft spot for Sealab 2021 and The Family Guy, and am even starting to not hate Squidbillies, I truly dig the non-Adult Swim varieties as well. Currently, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends and The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy are taking over my Tivo. I think I've seen nearly every glorious episode of The Fairly Oddparents and far too many SpongeBob SquarePantses. And now Ren & Stimpy reruns are being shown daily on not one but 2 cable networks! Surely you can picture the smile on my face as a drifted off to a peaceful sleep last night while watching Rocko's Modern Life--it was the one where think their friend is an alien who disintegrates people by high fiving them.

Genius. Freaking genius.

Should I be saving all of my toenail clippings as well?

WTF?!

You'd think that I, watching the amount of Discovery Health Channel that I do, would have heard of this before now.

Regardless, YUCK. Super YUCK. Maybe if they gave it name like "Super Amazing Life Juice" I wouldn't be so appalled. But freaking cord blood?? Gross me out.

St. Vincent sure is tasty!

Well, nobody "tagged" me or anything, but I really liked this meme that Clamhead posted. So now I'm posting it. Try and stop me, yo.

The instructions:
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. One holiday or observance (if any).

January 22

Events
1. 1947 - KTLA, the first commercial television station west of the Mississippi River, begins operation in Hollywood, California.
2. 1973 - The Supreme Court of the United States delivers its decision in Roe v. Wade striking down state laws restricting abortion during the first six months of pregnancy.
3. 1984 - The Apple Macintosh, the first consumer computer to popularize the computer mouse and the graphical user interface, is introduced during Super Bowl XVIII with its famous "1984" television commercial.

Birthdays
1. 1849 - August Strindberg, Swedish writer
2. 1965 - DJ Jazzy Jeff, American rapper and actor

Deaths
1994 - Telly Savalas, American actor (b. 1924)

Holiday
Feast day of St. Vincent

What fun!

Pass the taffy

Hooray for today, the official end of the Great Dental Uprising of 2006! If I were you, I'd buy dental floss stock.

Take my Xbox, please

Who among my reader loves them some Xbox? It's OK, I still love you. Poor Max had to leave behind a bunch of his treasured toys when he left for Dublin, and there's a box full of delicious Xbox booty under my bed. But not for long....

Obviously there is some poetic justice involved. I'm hardly in my mid-twenties at this point. And I rarely drink tequila.

If anyone wants to drive their girlfriend to babbling, drooling insanity or rage-induced homicide, this auction is for you! Save me from having to explain to Max why I dumped his beloved Xbox-y things in the Foster City Lagoon.

Just for larfs

Two incredibly amusing things:

1) From Overheard in New York,


Girl: I'm going to bed when I get home.
Mom: OK, if I get up before you and I want to do something fun, then should I wake you up?
Girl: It depends on what "fun" is. If it's one of your ninety-seven Starbucks runs, then no. If it's chasing the dog around the house going "Eeeeee!" then, yeah, sure.

--B train


2) The entertainment for Max's company party tonight in Munich: one Mr. David Hasselhoff. For serious!

Into the Wild

I just got the first batch of pics from my brother's stint in Alaska. He's filming Into the Wild, and aparently they are not kidding!


Rat Roulette: Now that's wild!


My brother the mountain man! What a looker.

And I love it in spite of Steve Carell

Let's talk about The Office. The US version of course, because we're the best at everything we do. Duh. But seriously, how did I not immediately understand how great this show is? It took me far too long, but I finally came around and now I see the glory that is The Office. I would have known this pleasure were it not for the glory that is Tivo. Life freaking rocks in the 21st century.

It Is Not Easy

Desmond Dekker died last week, and since then I've meaning to post my thoughts on what he meant to me. But I guess other things have taken priority. Things like sushi with Rosa and Dave, disappointing grilled cheese with Miriam, 2 more fillings at the dentist, and life in general.

Desmond Dekker made beautiful music, some of the only music that I listened to in early college that I still listen to. You won't find any Grateful Dead or Bob Marley on my iPod, but you'll find Desmond Dekker.

Intensified Festival 68 - Desmond Dekker & the Aces
Honour Your Mother and Father - Desmond Dekker & the Aces
You Can Get It If You Really Want - Desmond Dekker & the Aces