Pregnant, Pink, and Snowy!

The happily pregnant Pink and Green Girl has a wonderful new homepage for the holidays--check it out.

I wonder if she'll be doing a new look for every trimester? Can't wait for the spring version!

Pizza Pie in the Sky

My husband is very excited. I'm very excited. They finally opened the Upper Crust Pizzeria in Lexington. (It's so new that the Upper Crust management hasn't even updated its location list on the website. The Lexington store is on Waltham Street near the Lexington Town Center, in case you're interested.)

We wondered if anyone would notice the opening, which was delayed a week by the big boom and ensuing gas-main tearup in town. NOTICE? HA! Jim stopped by on Sunday evening, hoping to grab a slice to eat on his walk home from the Center. The wait for food was 90 minutes and growing, so Jim told the harried counterman that he was glad to have them in town and said he'd try again another day.

Monday, before my folks, brother, and I left for the airport for the post-Thanksgiving return home, I suggested we order pizza. It was 2:30 p.m. on a Monday, and the guy on the phone said that business had just quieted down, so they'd be happy to deliver a pizza. "Just quieted down" on a weekday in mid-afternoon!

The two pizzas arrived hot, tasty, and big. I never realized an Upper Crust large was quite so ... large. Plenty of leftovers in a box that barely fit on the bottom shelf of the fridge. As anyone who knows me knows, I have a somewhat complicated relationship with pizza. So when I like the pizza, it's usually pretty good. (At least I think so.)

Although we have other good pizza in town (Alexander's and Lexington House of Pizza spring to mind), I must confess I like Upper Crust better. (Although I really like the steak tips at Alexander's and the house special sub at Lex House...) I also like the fact that it's a local company, based out of Brookline, not some big national chain.

More choices, more prosciutto--all these things are good.

Pie in the Sky

Can your personality be summed up by pie? I love pie (much more than the typical cake--so often too dry). Berry pies of all types--especially strawberry rhubarb--are high on my "must eat" list. When my family took our two camping trips to Newfoundland (two weeks each), we ate some type of berry pie (a Newfoundland specialty) every single day at either lunch or dinner (I confess--sometimes both!).

So imagine my amusement when I found this link on Rebecca's site, which says I am a pumpkin pie (just like Rebecca herself):

You Are Pumpkin Pie

You're the perfect combo of uniqueness and quality Those who like you are looking for something (someone!) special

What Kind of Pie Are You?

The funny thing is, although I appreciate the sentiments of uniqueness and quality (so true--LOL!), pumpkin is the one pie I can't stand. It's not the pumpkin per se, but rather those pumpkin-pie spices (nutmeg, allspice, whatever). In fact, I once made a pumpkin chiffon pie without those spices and it was yummy.

But what the heck--pie is pie, so enjoy!

And Thanks for the Chocolate Croissant Bread Pudding*

A little late in the day, but then again it's never too late to give thanks, is it?

Thanks to my mom, my brother, and my stepdad for making it in this week so we can spend Thanksgiving as a family. I know I must drive you all crazy, but remember: I kvetch because I love.

Thanks to The Boy for being the world's greatest kid.

Thanks to my husband, Jim, for being not only a wonderful husband, but for staying true to himself, always being my moral compass (actually, him and Mom), and for always doing the right thing, even when he's feeling a little crabby. There's a reason some of my friends back in Texas, when pondering a difficult choice, would say: WWJD?--What Would Jim Do?

Thanks to my colleagues at work. You're a good bunch of people.

Thanks to my friends (at work and beyond). You're an even greater bunch.

Thanks to my doctors at Mass General. I'm feeling pretty good now, thanks in large part to you guys (and some luck--health still involves a little luck).

Thanks to other bloggers--locally, nationally, and internationally--for giving me a chance to learn, laugh, get annoyed, and celebrate life and its vagaries along with you.

Thanks to the Mass. Supreme Court and so many of the people of this commonwealth for supporting equal marriage rights. And thanks to the folks at Mass Equality and other like-minded organizations for hanging in there, yet remaining unfailingly polite even in the face of the occasional idiot. And thanks to the people, legislators included, who took the time to change their minds and see the light.

Thanks to New England in general, which has turned out to be a great and interesting place to live in general. Thanks for the little kindnesses, good iced coffee, fine roast beef sandwiches, rocky beaches, fried clams (but not just the fried clams), good schools, the T, and too many other things to enumerate.

Four years and counting--only a year to go on the Subaru payments. Thanks for everything.

*And thanks to the staff of the Cafe Fleuri at the Hotel Langham Boston for a fine, fine Thanksgiving meal, which made my family and friends very happy and very stuffed.

Three Sisters, Two Tickets

My mom is the world's biggest fan of Anton Chekhov. If he were alive, I venture to say she'd be a groupie, though she's never been a groupie for anyone, so I'm not sure why I would venture to say that.

My folks and brother are visiting from their respective home states this week. Mom read in the Sunday Globe about the new production of Three Sisters at the American Repertory Theatre. She loves the play (one of her top three of all time, and that's saying a lot) and thought the show sounded wonderful, but was sure there couldn't possibly be any tickets.

Naturally, being a "let's check the Web" sort of gal, I took the chance that seats might be available. Lo and behold, good seats were still available for Sunday's performance at 2 p.m. I whipped out the good ol' Visa and bought two seats, center section, on the aisle. Mom's very excited, and I'm excited that Mom's excited. We'll see you Sunday, Anton!

It's Not Good Just Any Ol' Way

I learned something important last night when I went to the Manchester Airport to pick up my brother for Thanksgiving. Namely: while Dunkin Donuts iced coffee is still the best iced coffee, Dunkin iced with skim milk instead of cream is gray and yucky.

I was trying to do my brother a favor--he wanted a few sips, and he favors skim in his coffee--but I only get Dunkin iced about twice a month, so I don't worry about the extra calories in the cream.

Then I find out that he doesn't really like skim milk in his coffee (of which he drinks about a gallon a day); he likes fat-free half-and-half.

Learned my lesson, but good.

Fun with Books & Lists

The stylish and smart Tish G's Love and Hope and Sex and Dreams is challenging me and a few fellow bloggers to construct a literary meme using the following rules (which Tish in turn got from Kira of Loving Twilight):

Take the first 5 novels from your bookshelf....then do the following
1. Book One - take first sentence
2. Book 2 - the last sentence
3. Book 3 - second sentence on page 100
4. Book 4 - next to last sentence on page 150
5. Book 5 - Final sentence of the book.

Make the five sentences into a paragraph. Feel free to cheat and make it a beter paragraph. Name the sources and then post.

It's a lot of fun, but, as I noted on my comment to Tish, I have a couple of slight dilemmas: so many bookshelves and boxes of books, where do I start? And if worked off only my latest reads, they're both non-fiction*, and the meme says to use novels. On the other hand, I haven't read any of the books Tish made her paragraph from (though I've seen the movie version of Fight Club, of course), so it gives me even more stuff to look for. (Too many books, so little time...)

So I'm going to have to work on this. If anyone else wants to try, please hit "Comment" and let me know what you came up with. I'm especially hoping to hear from Michele, the most voracious reader I know. Michele--feel free to use your latest five books from the library if you like; I know you always have a stack at home.

*Last read: Mary Roach's Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers--an amazing collection of connected essays about the lives of corpses (in medical research and much, much, more). She's one of my favorite health/medical writers and she comes through again. (I can't wait to read her latest, about investigating claims about the spiritual afterlife--sort of the flip side of the corporeal Stiff.)

I'm currently reading Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle, about growing up the rootless, poverty-stricken child of a loving yet damaged family in the 1960s. If Walls' name is familiar to you, it's because she's now one of America's most respected celebrity journalists (and in her case "respected celebrity journalist" is not an oxymoron). Quite a personal story, but more important, quite a book, on par in many ways with Angela's Ashes, but much, much closer to home.

For God's Sake, Take Him at His Word

According to MLB.com, Johnny Damon (known around my house as "My Johnny") says he'd like to finish out his major league career in Boston. But if that's going to happen, the front office needs to make its move--and fast.

Damon would very much like to remain in Boston for the remainder of his career, and if that's going to happen, the dynamic leadoff man says time is of the essence.

"You know, what would help me out is if they come to me sooner than later," Damon said by phone Tuesday night. "Once I know what other teams are offering ... I still haven't had an offer from Boston. I know that there were reports that they offered me a contract, but that's not true. I've been hoping for a contract since last offseason and back in Spring Training, but hopefully they can beat everyone to the punch. I know they have a lot going on. And I know, pretty soon, I have to start listening to other teams."

Come on John Henry, Larry, whomever--get off the stick and make the man an offer. You worked it out for Jason Varitek. Now give Johnny his due. And fast.

Pink and Green--Definitely Not Blue

I had lunch today with a fellow Boston Globe "Sidekick" blogger, Pink and Green Girl. (Yes, she told me her full name--LOL!) Although I'd been reading her for awhile, when I found out we'd both been asked by the Globe to be Sidekicks, I suggested coffee or lunch. Lunch it was.

We'd never met, so she thoughtfully wore a pink sweater and carried a green purse. Even with the lunchtime crowd at my local Chili's, she was easy to spot. As anyone who's familiar with her blog knows, she's several months' pregnant and writing about her pre-mom experience with charm. She's just as charming in person--funny, lively, clearly crazy about her husband and the baby-to-be. We talked a lot about parenting, schools (she'a teacher/administrator, currently taking time off to ditch a monstrous commute and enjoy the impending baby), politics, our parents, and even a little about blogging. We both seemed thrilled that people bothered to read us (given the, what? eight million blogs out there).

This was a first for me--meeting up with a fellow blogger (not counting Halley, of course, whom everyone knows and was the first person to encourage me to take to the Web). If they're all such pleasant encounters, this could become a habit. Thanks again, Baby Mom!

What I'm Making for Thanksgiving: Reservations

My grandmother was a very wise woman. She lived to be 102, which still wasn't nearly enough time for her family and friends, of which she had many.

One of her many legacies to my family is the restaurant Thanksgiving. I realize it's become somewhat trendy to eat out on Thanksgiving, but I like to think we were sort of pioneers. (An argument that falls apart when you realize that, obviously, if we were really pioneers, there wouldn't have been any place to go out to. But I digress.)

In my family, Thanksgiving is a pretty big deal. (Being Jewish, Christmas Eve isn't, as you might imagine.) Thanksgiving was always a time for everyone in our relatively small group (anywhere from about 8 to 12 of us) to gather at my mom's house for a feast. And that worked for the first half of my life, until about 20 years ago.

By that time, I was married and living several hours from Mom; same for my brother. We all worked, which meant we couldn't get to Mom's house until Thanksgiving morning. That wouldn't have been so bad, except Mom taught community college, and for last 20 years or so before retirement, she always had a Wednesday night class that didn't end until 10 p.m. So she was left to prepare a huge meal by herself on Thursday morning, essentially on her own.

Why didn't my beloved grandmother (Mom's mom) help? Well, for all her wonderful qualities--smart as a whip, loving heart, great legs (like Marlena Dietrich's!)--Gigi (a variation on her name, Jennie, and pronounced with two hard g's, like a musician's job) couldn't cook worth beans. Heck, she couldn't cook beans at all. This was not a reflection on her intelligence or physical adeptness--she could sew and crochet beautifully, for instance--but rather an offshoot of a life of work begun at age 12, in 1903. She simply never learned to cook. And the one time Jim and I played host in our new condo in Virginia, she was savvy enough to realize that we'd spent a fortune on food and drink to feed the clan--a painful stretch on our newlywed/newly mortgaged budget.

So, realizing what a burden the Thanksgiving meal was becoming, Gigi laid down the law, in her own style: simply, succinctly, and with no room for argument:

"Thanksgiving has become too much for your mother to do alone. And you kids can't afford it. So I've asked her to find a nice hotel with a fancy buffet so everyone can eat what he likes, and your mother can just enjoy the day. Anyone who wants to come is invited, but everyone pays for himself. THAT'S IT."

We initially had several nice meals in Norfolk (where my grandmother lived), then later ended up everywhere from Baltimore to New Mexico to Boston.

In Boston, we've settled into a pattern: Thanksgiving at Cafe' Fleuri, at the Langham Hotel. Yes, this is the home of the famous Chocolate Buffet, though I confess I've never been. There's such a superabundance of great desserts (both chocolate and non-) on the Thanksgiving buffet that going to a separate pig-out seems superfluous.

We love it: the ambience, the food, the service. Tasteful, but not stuffy (Jim never wears a tie and never feels out of place). And all the savory food is wonderful too--from sushi to shrimp to pasta bar to--yes--turkey with all the trimmings. (Jim doesn't much like turkey, just another reason why he gleefully endorsed my grandmother's plan all those years ago.)

One of the things that won me over was the children's buffet--a special, kid-height table with things like mac and cheese, pizza bagels, and the best--the best--chocolate cupcakes I've ever tasted. (Yes, adults can scarf food from the children's buffet, and kids are equally welcome to eat the adult food.) Cafe' Fleuri doesn't just pay lip-service to the idea of serving children; they do it in a meaningful way. (Warning: none of this comes cheaply--be prepared to splurge.)

This year, with my folks (and my brother--I'm very excited about that) coming up again, I asked my mom if she'd like us to look around for another spot, to try something new.

"Oh, really, if you don't mind, I'd love to go back where we went the last couple of years," she said. "I just love everything about it. And not just the food--the room is so lovely, don't you think?"

So back we go. I just love family traditions, don't you?

And So It Continues

Wending my way home on some back roads tonight, I counted no fewer than five--count 'em, five--KeySpan trucks with crews digging up various parts of Lexington. All were well away from the town center--more than a mile in each case.

"Arrested" Arrested?

I should know better than to become attached to low-rated shows, but I still can't shake my funk over the news that Fox's Arrested Development, the funniest comedy currently on TV (that includes you, my newly beloved My Name Is Earl) may have been cancelled.

Whether or not it's gone for good is still a mystery, as explained by the San Francisco Chronicle's Tim Goodman. What's for sure is that Fox has cut back this season's order of episodes to 13 (instead of the usual 22) and it won't be on at all this November, during "sweeps" (and isn't that an outdated concept, what with year-round show starts?).

Please, people, when it comes back on December 5, give it a look. It's the funniest show on TV (not counting the Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and Scott McLellan's daily press briefings). Maybe it can be saved. Maybe Showtime will pick it up. (As Goodman mentions, it would go well with that network's Weeds.) But at least take a look before it becomes a memory available only on DVD.

Touched and Gasless

I was quite touched by the fact that several of my colleagues--knowing I live in Lexington--stopped by my office on Thursday morning to make sure my house wasn't affected by Wednesday's explosion and fire, or the ensuing gas-supply shut-off and evacuation. Nice bunch of people I work with. (And a shout-out to my faithful readers who also commented their concern.)

While the evacuation ended quickly, the issue of gas supply is still open. At 5 p.m. last night (Friday), KeySpan still hadn't restored natural gas to a large part of Lexington, especially the area including and surrounding the town center. The company is digging holes everywhere around that area, and businesses that rely on natural gas--chiefly restaurants--found themselves still without a fuel.

According to an article in the online version of the Lexington Minuteman, daily losses are hurting the local businesses hard. No gas for cooking or heating water means closed doors. .

Lexington Center looked more like a western ghost town late Thursday morning rather than the sidewalk bustle typical from early lunchers and coffee-seekers.

Most food-service businesses on either side of the Massachusetts Avenue marketplace were shut down due to a nearby residential gas explosion that occurred yesterday morning. Gas-powered ovens and water heaters are by far the norm for the industry, and the shutoff has led many to shut their doors for the entire day.

Daniel Hebenstreit, manager of Not Your Average Joe’s, said the loss of the previous day’s dinner business and Thursday’s closing could cost the restaurant between $5,000 and $7,000.

(And this is not to mention no hot water for showers or clothes washing in the homes around the town center.)

That article appeared Thursday. By last night, nothing had changed. I called my son's favorite Indian place, Khushboo, and after numerous rings, someone picked up. Are you open yet, I asked?

"No--we still don't--we don't have any gas yet. Maybe tomorrow--definitely not tonight," he said sadly, another night's revenue gone. Alexander's Pizza, which is well away from the town center, also had no gas, which meant no pizzas. Ironically, the soon-to-open Upper Crust Pizza on Waltham Street was originally scheduled to have its gas meter installed the day after the explosion.

Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt at 3 Hancock St. And thankfully, no other houses caught fire or blew up. Compared to other natural disasters this year, we were all lucky. Though it looks like an investigation is going to show that this disaster was not exactly "natural," given the discovery that the gas lines near the town center appear to have been dangerously overpressurized.

So now it's time to get things back to safety and normalcy. According to KeySpan's website, gas is being restored zone by zone. Some streets have their gas back on, others won't get it till tomorrow. Fortunately, this is New England, so everyone should have a supply of blankets and sweaters.

Not a Tear Down--A Blow Up

Wow--my husband and I either walked or drove past this house just about every day. Now it's gone. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, but it's a shame to lose such a beautiful home--Civil War-era.

Scary, fiery stuff happens--I know, because my house was hit by lightning in Texas. No one was hurt then, either, and most of the house was salvaged, thanks to the quick response of the West Carlisle (Texas) Volunteer fire department. So what I want to know is this: although the Lexington, Burlington, Bedford, Belmont, Waltham, and Hanscom AFB fire departments showed up at 3 Hancock St. within minutes, where was Keyspan?

From the Lexington Minuteman:

The fire, Lexington police say, blazed for two hours because the gas line to the house was not shut off. It took Keyspan employees one hour to reach the scene and another hour to shut off the gas, according to police.

And a Shout-Out to My Home State

Virginia, you've disappointed me in the last several years with your turn to the right. But yesterday, you did me proud, with the election of Democrat Tim Kaine as the governor. From Reuters:

The outcome in conservative, Republican-leaning Virginia was a particularly bad blow for Bush, who stopped there on election eve for a get-out-the-vote rally with Kilgore. Bush's mounting political problems and Kilgore's poor showing could make Republicans hesitant to call on him for help next year.

The heated Virginia race featured a series of Kilgore television ads attacking Kaine as too liberal for the Southern state on social issues such as the death penalty, abortion and immigration.

But the harsh tone of the ads seemed to sour voters on Kilgore. Kaine allied himself with popular Democratic Gov. Mark Warner, a potential 2008 presidential candidate who is barred by law from seeking a second term, and argued he was the logical choice to move Virginia ahead.

"The people of Virginia have sent a message loud and clear that they like the path we chose and they want to keep Virginia moving forward," Kaine, with Warner at his side, told cheering supporters in Richmond.

Now, maybe I can go home again. Just for a visit of course. Wouldn't want to miss skiing season. And keep an eye on Warner--wouldn't be surprised to see him on the ticket for the 2008 presidential race.

Civil Rights in Maine--SFNE

The real news today is from our neighbor to the north. (No--not Canada.) Congratulations to the people of Maine for roundly defeating an attempt to repeal its newly enacted Human Rights Law. From the Globe:

The issue, put before voters for the third time since 1998, pitted a coalition of mainstream religious and business groups and politicians, including Governor John Baldacci, against a network of Christian church groups that sees gay rights as an assault on traditional marriage.

The vote was a referendum on the law, enacted earlier this year, to amend the Maine Human Rights Act by making discrimination illegal in employment, housing, credit, public accommodations and education based on sexual orientation.

The Maine law had prohibited discrimination based on race, color, sex, disability, religion, ancestry, and national origin. The gay-rights provision was broadly worded to protect transsexuals, transvestites, and those who have undergone sexual reassignment surgery, in addition to gays.

The law exempts religious organizations that do not receive public funds. It also is worded to say it is not meant to address a right to marry. The law had been put on hold pending the outcome of the balloting.

This vote makes Maine the last state in New England to protect the legal rights of gays. Wicked good!

The Sign of the Devil?

Should I be concerned that my Site Meter says I've passed 6,666 page views since I began counting a few months ago? Is that E-V-I-L? Or 6,000 pages beyond E-V-I-L?

Lordy, I'm easily amused.

Weather or Not, Part 2

Still not sure what's up with this weather, though I'm enjoying it. But was that a major, boomy thunderstorm I heard last night? In November?

On the other hand, one of my colleagues says we're due for a bad, bad winter, which means that the adorable "ultrafleece" coat I ordered from TravelSmith that's now on back order will still come in handy when it arrives in January.

Miami-27, Virginia Tech-7

Bummer.

Laser Mom

Today, my son had what was probably his last all-class birthday party, because next year he starts middle school, and the concept of a single classroom dominating his life will become a thing of the past.

Although we invited the entire class, only the boys showed up. This is typical of the last couple of years. When he was younger, girls came, too. (The one girl who did come is someone he's been buddies with for most of his life--her family moved to New England from Lubbock a year or so after us.) I imagine there will come a time in the not-too-distant future when girls will start showing up again, and Jim and I will be politely asked to make ourselves scarce. But for now, it was tweener-boy-city.

Being that it was laser tag, the boys are very much into shooting the birthday boy's mom. Jim played, too, but I'm the more aggressive player, so I'm the bigger target. I must admit, I love, love, love laser tag. It's like being inside a video game, although people seem to laugh more. (If you've never played--it's pretty simple: you wear a sensor-studded vest and aim a harmless beam of light at other players' sensors. If you're hit--which is frequent--you're "out" for five seconds, then you begin again. Unlike, say, paintball, it's completely painless, though still good exercise.) If I were one of those $25-million- mansion mogul types, I'd have the builder add a laser-tag arena of my own. Imagine a bunch of 40 year olds stalking each other in a maze between rounds of ice tea and popcorn. (You were hoping for martinis, maybe? I'm not much of a drinker, to tell the truth.)

But while part of me was mulling over the fact that this was probably The Boy's last "invite everyone" party, another part was celebrating. Not because my son is growing into smart, kind, handsome young man that anyone would be proud of--though that's certainly worth celebrating. No, I was celebrating because I took first place in one of our two 20-minute rounds of tag. First out of 34 players (people other than our party joined in). And this from a woman for whom the words "athletic ability" are an oxymoron.

Woohoo! Moms rule!

Quote of the Day (Well, Yesterday) and Thankfully, Not SFNE

Yesterday on NPR, reporter Michele Norris interviewed New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin. Late in the story, Norris asked Nagin how he has changed personally since Hurricane Katrina:

"Well," he said, "my wife has noticed that I'm cursing a lot more. And I don't sleep as much at night."

Considering that he hasn't slept in his own bed for more than nine weeks because his house is still uninhabitable, I'm impressed that he's sleeping at all. Kind of puts things in perspective, don't you think?

Lipstick Love (Or: Some Things Are Worth Waking Up Your Mom For)

I'm not a particularly girly-girl. I left the dating scene not long after I entered it. (Same guy, nearly 24 years--whoa!) I don't wear foundation (partly a reaction to all the goopy stuff I wore during years of high school theater), though I do moisturize. I will not not wear high heels--a fact that caused me great consternation when starting my first professional job 20 years ago, when I had a terrible time finding decent flats (a situation that has changed for the better). I like pretty shoes, but I have big, wide feet with narrow heels, so I struggle to find well-fitting (and low-heeled!) shoes of any kind.

But I do enjoy some makeup, especially the kind that adds color. Especially lipstick. The little bag of essentials I carry in my purse contains a comb, mascara, mirror, and lipstick from at least four manufacturers, both fancy and drugstore variety. MAC, Bourjois, L'Oreal, Maybelline--if it looks good, I'll buy it. It's not a true visit with my mom without a trip to Burlington Mall--first to Sephora to try on all kinds of stuff, then across the hall to the MAC store, just for lipstick.

For years, my mom's Holy Grail has been to find a substitute for a lipstick that Revlon made. It was part of the Moon Drops line, but not just any Moon Drops lipstick. Each color came with a solid tube of moisturizer right up the middle--so you got nice color and your lips felt great all day: soft and smooth. As far as I can tell, they stopped making it several years ago, and Mom has mourned it's loss ever since.

So imagine my surprise and pleasure when I discovered Maybelline Moisture Extreme Lipcolor, with moisturizer built right in. It looked promising, the colors were nice, and it cost $4 at my local Bed, Bath, & Beyond (which for some reason now carries makeup and hair products). I bought a tube in Rosy Glow. Heaven! Great color, none of that weird dryness that some lipsticks give you. I couldn't wait to tell Mom.

But the next time I hit BB&B, stickers all over my lipstick announced that the store was discontinuing my Moisture Extreme! Aaagh! I finally found a virtual replacement for the old Revlon Moon Drops formula, and now it was disappearing! Fortunately, they were selling it for about $2.50 a tube, so I whipped out my cell phone to call Mom.

"Hi, Harvey," I said to my step-dad. "Get Mom on the phone please."

"She's asleep. I don't want to wake her."

"This is IMPORTANT. Wake her up, please."

"I don't see what could be that important..." Just then, I heard my mom in the background. Apparently our bickering had woken her up. (Oops.)

"Mom--listen, I finally found the perfect lipstick and now the store is discontinuing it," I said. "I don't know if it just means the colors are changing or they won't carry it at all or what. But I have to hoard it now."

She gave me her color preferences as we conferred. This one was too brown, another too orange, another too red. I picked ten tubes of varying shades of rose and plum, some duplicates. We can sort it out at Thanksgiving when she comes. (And based on the link, it looks like Maybelline is still making it, though I'll have to hunt down a new supply. But when it comes to lipstick, better safe than sorry.)

"Sorry I woke you up, Mom," I said.

"Oh, Honey, it was important. Some things are worth waking up for."

Weather or Not

My parents are coming for Thanksgiving from Virginia. As she always does before planning the trip (usally mid-October), Mom asks, "So, honey, what will the weather be like? How should I pack?"

Um, let's see: there was the nearly two straight weeks of rain, followed by warming, which was followed by snow this past Saturday, and now that it's true fall--November--it's sunny and in the 60s.

"Pack whatever you want, Mom. If you need a coat, I've got coats. I've got sweaters."

Maybe I should have added, "I've got sunscreen."

Darwinian Test

I was driving home tonight through the only partially lit streets of Lexington-- honest-to-goodness only driving 25 miles per hour--when out of the darkness loomed a skateboarder.

Dressed in near-black clothing with no reflectors. In the street.

Where I almost hit him because he was in the street, in the darkness, wearing near-black clothing with no reflectors. And thankfully, I hit the brakes and he skittered off to the sidewalk--safe. For now.

Jeez.