odds, and perhaps a few ends

For those of you with significant others, or even good friends: Do these folks ever embarrass you? Answer honestly. I hear you. No, never! Yeah, RIGHT...
I'm not talking, "Can't he throw that raggedy shirt away once and for all?" embarrassment. I'm talking about an official, intentional intent TO embarrass you. Ouch.

So we're driving along in Manassas. A little deeper into Manassas than we typically dare tread. We thought it would be nice to make a second visit to Eat More Chikun, and let Lizzy romp about in the clean and well-kept playplace at Chick Fil-A. (or however they spell it. I can't be bothered to check at the moment; sorry. As soon as I get paid to spell things right on this blog, I will make more concerted efforts to do so.) We pull to a stop; one of many, I might add. I am frequently amazed at how many people are traveling through Manassas at any given time. We stop just ahead of a car in the neighboring lane that has one of those little street sign-looking window attachments -- you know, the ones that once said "Baby on Board," but now say just about anything. This one said, "Honk if you scrapbook." Matt got all excited -- he was clearly in a goofy mood -- and said, "Look! Look!" "Huh! Cool," I respond, nervous at his over-excitement. "You have to honk!" he said, still a bit more exuberant than the occasion called for. "Um, no, I really don't," I say. (I was driving.) He tries to reach over and honk the horn. Yeesh! He rolls down the window and is waving to the lady. He gains access to the horn when I am motionless with frightful embarrassment. But it just keeps on getting worse. "Hey!" he hollers toward her. "We scrapbook!" He's waving his hands around and bouncing with excitement. She laughs. I am, while repeatedly whacking Matt in the shoulder, hoping and praying that the lady doesn't think we're making fun of her. "What if she thinks we're making fun of her?" I say. Matt reacts by rolling down the window again. "No -- we really DO! We scrapbook, too! It rules!" he says, or something like that.
Thank God, the light turned green right about then. Horrifying.


As you might have noticed, despite the fact that I am forced to defect to an inferior brand of coffee when I see most of you (at church), I am a huge fan of Starbucks. They were founded in 1971 -- in Washington state! So was I! It's a match made in heaven. And I learn so much from my daily -- or, when I'm really being naughty, twice daily pilgrimages thither. So many shrines at which to worship this particular caffeine god! Today, feeling a rare weariness of the Starbucks rocket fuel they call their drip coffee, I went to Firehook Bakery for my infusion. Big mistake! Seriously, it tasted watered-down. Ouch. So, this afternoon I returned to my original love and begged forgiveness. I don't know if you've noticed, but sometimes the baristas -- that's employees who sling espresso drinks, for the uninitiated -- recommend a favorite on the chalk board attached to one of the walls. Something for us to stare at and ponder as we wait in line, I guess. Today's suggestion was a "Black Eye." Have you heard of a red eye? That's the unbelievably strong-sounding one shot of espresso in a cup of coffee. So a black eye is ... TWO shots in a cup of coffee. I have to tell you, their coffee is insanely strong. I honestly think it would serve me better than gas if I poured it into my car's tank, but as it's even more expensive than gasoline -- hard to believe as that is -- I shan't give it a try. Also, I don't have enough scratch to pay off the nice mechanics at Tyson's Ford if I'm wrong.

In other news: Oh. Okay. Since folks are still voting on dresses, I should fess up and say that I dragged Matt along -- actually, he was quite willing -- and Lizzy, too, to try on three of the finalists. I wish it had been convenient to try on the one that, it would seem, most of you liked -- the one with the straps across the shoulders. I really liked it, but I don't recall loving it more than any of the others. And, Matt agreed (after seeing the photo) that it was probably a bit more formal a look than we were going for. Though, it did look nice... (moment of silence for the Dress Not Taken. Thank you.)

So. When I tried on the Final Three -- halter top, sleeveless with lace overlay, and Option No. 5 -- the sleeveless was clearly, far and away, the best. Which surprised me! It really stood out. Matt said he had "a moment" when he saw me in it, so -- say no more! It was interesting to me how much I wanted -- needed -- his opinion on this to make a decision. I like that that's the case, too. (Option 5 was not, in fact, exactly the one that I found the photo of, as it turns out. The bodice was different. The skirt sprouted out from the natural waist, and I have to tell you, it was not a good look for me. I was right to discard it in the beginning. Though, I did love the edge of the skirt, and the cap sleeves were a fun touch.) So the sleeveless has been ordered. Hooray! I measured in between two sizes, and went with the smaller one, so you're all authorized to, if you see me shoving something sugary and/or carby in my mouth between now and Sept. 30, bat it away in horror. Please. I have no self-control; I need to borrow all of yours.

Speaking of Matt, and our relationship: On our way home at night, as we're commuting out on Hwy. 66, the one who's not driving -- most often Matt, since he usually drives in the morning -- will work on either Sudoku (Matt) or the crossword (me). The other night, the Sudoku puzzle was an "easy," so Matt finished it super fast. Yay Matt!! He commenced the crossword, soliciting my help. He was dazzled at my prowess. It made me feel all smart and stuff, a sensation that comes along all too rarely these days. I really used to think I was hot stuff, in high school and maybe even occasionally in college. Now, most of the time, I feel mostly brain dead. Not sure how, why or when that happened. Eh. It's not important. But it IS fun to nail some intellectual pursuit now and then. "You must be really good at Scrabble!" he said. And the fact is, I'm totally not. I'm much better at something that doesn't put a time constraint on me, and that doesn't involve putting things in clever places. Just coming up with the words, or playing with the letters, it/themselves.

Movies I've rented lately: Capote and Madagascar. Was less impressed with Madagascar than I'd hoped to be. Oh, well. It just felt a little too disjointed, and didn't, I thought, fulfill its dangled promise of exploring how the animals would react to being dumped on an island in the wild after so long in captivity. Okay, the lion wanted to eat his friends. True. Maybe I expect too much. Lizzy had great fun repeating the line, "You BIT my BUTT!" Thanks, Madagascar!
Capote: I wanted a bit more of his motivation -- for being interested in the crime, mostly, and for being so taken with the prisoner at first sight (a physical attraction thing? Not sure), but overall, it was pretty cool. Interesting to see his character just crumple by the end. How it took his life, in a sense, as well as the convicts'. And he was such a delightfully flawed character from the beginning. So self-centered and manipulative. Fascinating. And, of course, great acting job by PSH. And Catherine Keener, too.

Heard the new Metro voice? I don't like it. It's lame. Fat waste of money. People will pay more attention for a couple weeks, then ... No. And it's not like "paying attention" means "suddenly becoming polite users of the metro system." Or suddenly "treating other people as human beings, the way you'd like to be treated yourself." No. Those expectations are way too lofty.

Hm. I can't read my note regarding the other item I was going to type about, so ... oh well.

Happy day, everyone. ;)