February Running Calendar

I am pretty freaking proud of myself. Just saying.

Total miles: 18.5

The Amish Lifestyle

Yesterday, the snow fell. And fell. And fell. It piled, and piled, and stuck to everything. The trees drooped. The power lines sagged. We went about our business snug and happy while the storm played outside. I napped on the couch, since the Jack Frost's visit meant no working.

I jerked awake when the TV hissed at me announcing that the electricity had momentarily been out. Since it was back on, and all seemed well, I napped some more. I napped until the TV hissed again. Rinse and repeat this cycle about ten times until I woke up to silence. There is nothing like the silence of a snowy winter day without electricity.

We waited a half hour hoping that the lights would come back on. They didn't. We got bored. The silence of the snow was oppressive. I mentioned it would be less boring with the radio. My little brother excitedly mentioned that he had an old school Walkman (tape player), if someone had speakers. I had speakers. One problem solved.

That's when it started getting cold. That's when we found out 4,000 customers had no power. They put us on the list, but, really, that could mean anything. 

I remembered the kerosene heater that lives in the basement. I didn't know how to use it, but I read the instructions, and got it up and running. The little guy puts off a lot of heat. It kept us warm all day yesterday. It's chugging along in front of me as I type, and the room is getting toasty.

Once Dad came home, he got the generator up and running. It can power our fridge and freezer. We've been using it for charging our various electronics, and we even used it to watch Inception on the one television we have with a built in DVD player.

We cooked dinner. It was by far the most interesting thing we managed all day. Mom cooked our meat in the crock pot. We thought we could use the microwave to cook baked potatoes after the meat finished. Unfortunately, our generator does not produce enough juice to power a microwave. Who knew how much electricity microwaves actually use? I didn't. Guess what our generator can power: The George Foreman grill. Guess who devised a way to make French fries on that bad boy: This girl. Believe me. That might forever reign in my heart as the most interesting dinner I've ever participated in.

I hoped the power would be back on when I woke up this morning. I had plenty of this yesterday. I am a girl of the future no matter how much I like to think that I'm not. I could not cut it as an Amish housewife. 

The electric company hopes to have the power back today, but they didn't seem especially confident. I am hopeful. I need a shower.

An Open Letter to Amanda Palmer

Dear Amanda,

I'm fairly certain that if one were to go through the archives of this blog, this would not be the first letter I've written to you. If, in fact, it is the first letter I've written to you, I am surprised. If that is the case, I've written you many letters in my head. In fact, I've written this one over and over since the beginning of this week. I figure that since I'm still mulling it over after this long, I should probably write it down. It must be important to me.

I just wanted to tell you that this past Tuesday, I rediscovered my favorite album. Not just my favorite album of yours, but what is my favorite music album ever. Why should you care? Because said album wouldn't exist without you as it is The Dresden Dolls self-titled album.

I must explain. I fell in love with that album a couple of years after I graduated high school. A friend of mine who I worked with at a crappy fast food restaurant recommended it to me. I think he knew me better than I ever gave him credit for, because I fell, as he'd predicted, instantly in love with your humble little band. I memorized the songs, I followed your blog, I wished so badly that you and Brian would come close enough for me to make it to a show. When I found out that you had just released Yes, Virginia, I learned all of those songs as well, but they couldn't hold a candle to how I felt about the songs on The Dresden Dolls.

The lyrics spoke to me. The music... It made me feel something I've never been able to describe. The chemistry between you and Brian... The way you play the piano as if it is an extension of Brian's drum set... All of that together. I absolutely loved it. I rarely took it out of my car stereo.

One dark night, a man walked out in front of my car as I drove the lonely trip from my home to college. I didn't have a chance to swerve or even hit the brakes. As quickly as I saw him, he smashed into my windshield and flew over the top of my car. It was all I could do to keep the car from flipping into the ditch. I immediately called 911, but the damage was done. He died on impact.

My dear, Amanda, guess which album played as the worst day of my life... No, strike that... The worst moment of my life unfolded uncontrollably before me. You guessed it. After that day, I could never listen to that album. I could hardly stand to hear a random song from that album. What had once been beloved quickly turned into something forbidden.

Don't get me wrong. I still loved your band and your music, and I followed your career avidly as you broke with your record company, fell in love, became a sensation on the Internet. But I never felt the passion for the music that I had felt for my favorite album. After the accident, I lost a lot of things. I became depressed. I spent years watching you succeed and doing nothing myself as my life spiraled around me.

I hit bottom about a year ago. I'm on medicine. I'm alive again. I hope I never have to go back to that emotional place again, because I don't think I could survive it again.

I am going to be okay. I rediscovered your CD this week, and on Tuesday I found myself listening to The Dresden Dolls as I drove past the same spot where I had the accident. I am going to be okay.

I just wanted you to know.

Thank you for the music,

Kate Jones

In commemoration...

Today felt like spring, so the dogs and I (Yes, even my beloved, cancer-ridden baby.) went for a mile run. I realize with all the snow it really doesn't look like spring, but I assure you it was all melting.

The 85th Annual Academy Awards

 

I heard that the Oscar committee, or whoever is in charge of these kinds of things (probably some PR guru or something), decided to no longer call the Academy Awards the Academy Awards. And, God forbid, they mention how long the awards have been in existence. Instead, the powers that be decided to call them simply, The Oscars. I understand its because all the youngfolk think that if you mention 85 and use any kind of traditional name for anything, it must not be cool enough.

Now, I am a child of the 80s… or maybe 90s… (I’ve never quite been sure what to call myself, since I was born in the 80s, but spent most of my childhood in the 90s. Who knows? It’s not that important.) and I grew up every year watching the Academy Awards. I never particularly cared about them, and I rarely had even watched but one or two of the movies, but I always watched them. I’m not sure I’ve missed a year yet. That, my friends, is 28 years of watching this stodgy, old award show. Nearly 1/3 of the years it has graced this great earth.

Also, I don’t feel particularly old, but… but I suppose I’m not in the hip age group anymore. Still… I grew up with these awards. I don’t particularly think the change from The Academy Awards to The Oscars is exactly going to make anyone else watch or even care about the awards. In fact, I would almost go so far as to say that this illustrious name change makes the awards less prestigious. Almost.

That said, I took it upon myself this year, for the first time ever, to watch every, single movie up for the Best Picture award. It is a good crop of movies. I never realized exactly the quality of movies that vie for this award. After having watched them all, I can honestly say I have no idea which movie will take home the golden statue. No idea. How do people even choose? Do the judges just put all the movies in a hat and pick blindly. Or maybe they put all the names on the wall and play a game similar to Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

It doesn’t matter which movie wins in the end, I do believe that it is an honor just to be nominated. I always thought that was a cop-out, but it turns out that it is especially true.

If I were giving out the awards, I would have a hard time choosing between Argo and Silver Linings Playbook for the win. I believe the former is the better movie, but the latter… well, it features crazy people and Jennifer Lawrence. ‘Nuff said.