My Everest

Dearest reader, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first...

The good news, did you say? Well alright then, you're the boss.

On March 21st, I'm marrying this guy:

Yikes! Maybe he isn't making the best impression. Let's try that again...

OK, still a little weird. I guess he's just a little shy of strangers. Let's give him one more try...

Aww, that's better. Say hi to Cameron--you may remember him from such posts as Thanks for your concern, Time Out, and that old favorite Singing Solves Everything, Part Two. Oh, and say hi to Caroline, too (she's just hangin'). So maybe we're a little slouchy, but we're in love and hope you will all see fit to share in our joy despite our poor posture. Now for the bad news...

I have to purchase a wedding dress. THIS IS MY EVEREST. There is so much I could tell you about the many horrors I've been subjected to during my brief foray into the bridal industry---it's cold, it's sheeny (not shiny--shiny is good, sheeny is very very bad), it's self-entitled, and most of all it's overpriced---but as I have come to find there are many, many, MANY blogs dedicated to these subjects alone, I will spare you and instead share the one bright light in the mists. Behold:

I could get married in Alexis Carrington's wedding dress. OMH!

Lovely #5

I wish J-wood would work on this instead of robots that are destined to one day destroy us all (thanks digg)...

Lovely #4

Really, though, I found this while I was doing actual research work. I swear. I am no longer trolling for political web content. Cross my heart.

It's just been raining on my face

Rather than betray how much I cared about today, I offer you a few items of little consequence:

1. I heart Jim Lehrer. For awhile I feared he was going a bit senile, but now I just think he's begun drinking during work hours. Tonight he "dazzled" me with his electoral map (his words) and went on for 45 seconds about Missour-ee vs. Missour-uh.

2. Somebody already stole my "New New Deal" line.

3. Apparently J. Peterman just won a House seat in New York.

Oh, and yes we can.

Thanks for your concern

Dear 63,

No, Cameron and I did not break up. Who could break up with a guy that does this to his birthday pinata?

Besides, in the past week alone we've made seven pumpkin pies, seen Jenny Lewis and Beachwood Sparks, fretted over Halloween costumes, taken two midterms (him), asked for and received a new project at work (me), and gotten all fancy for SF Opera's Idomeneo. In other words, we've been much too busy for drama.

Sometimes girls just cry on the phone with their moms because they miss their old roommate, or they don't like any of their clothes anymore, or they can't find that "old faithful" recipe for Quiche Lorraine. I can't imagine this is all news to a man whose former girlfriend once got mad and locked herself in his dad's pizza place bathroom in the middle of a New Year's Eve party only to blow town in the morning without a word to anyone.

I also, for the record, can't imagine ever announcing a break up over the internet--that's just bad manners.

But thanks for asking. And I promise to set up the voice mail soon.

Hugs and Kisses, Cobb

Time out

You know when you call your Mom on a Saturday afternoon sobbing uncontrollably--to the point of hiccups and shaking--and she puts you on Time Out (always a high point)?

Then you'll also remember how you thought the Time Out was a really good idea so you say to your friends and colleagues all the time, "Sorry, I can't, I'm on Time Out. My mom said." But everyone just thinks it's a joke and so doesn't take it seriously, and after a week goes by where you spent just as little time at home and breathing as the one before, you realize that there really aren't that many things you are at liberty to cut out of your schedule because said friends and colleagues are depending upon you all the time.

And in the end, dear reader, you recall why it was the principle of the thing that mattered. And principles being what they are in this modern age, you'll understand why Time Out was no match for free tickets to fancy seats at a Giants game (still hate 'em...) with Tim Lincecum on the mound (...even though he's like an adorable little elf and their win actually helped the Dodgers).

Nor did Time Out stand a chance against Chihuly or his eye patch at the deYoung.

Mmmmmm. Glossy. Sparkly. Shiny. If I had stuff like that at home, Time Out might be more successful.

I love Rachel & Jorge

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jorge and Rachel Ambrocio:

Here you see them sporting the wedding gifts Drew, Alica and I won for them the night before the ceremony when we hit some skee ball in preparation for the big day.

Here you will see some more dignified (yawn) pictures of the event. Actually, they're quite lovely (that's their photographers' blog and, so far, Michael is my favorite of all siblings' weddings' photographers). Welcome Jorge--you're the berries! I hope you can learn to like pinochle and Silverado.

The Phoenix

Rising from the ashes of a stolen purse...behold its shining and impenetrable glory!

Isn't it pretty?

Back in June I was so charmed and amazed after seeing Wall-E that I left my purse in the newly restored Alameda movie palace (that second link is horrible--I suggest you don't watch it). By the time I returned, it had been nicked. Unfortunate yes, but as Reverend Mother says, when God closes a door he sometimes gives you an apple device. Since the 3G launch was moments away, buying the iPhone was actually the economical choice when confronted with replacing both cell phone and pod at the same time, coupled with the fact that Verizon has never once managed to give me service in the confines of my home, and Alisa always appeared to do fine with AT&T in our place (so am I, by the way--feel free to throw away the land line number if you've got it). Anyway, what I really want to talk about are the free applications.

I have the complete works of Shakespeare on my phone FOR FREE.

I have the complete LDS standard works of scripture on my phone FOR FREE.

I have Pandora on my phone FOR FREE.

I have the BART schedule on my phone FOR FREE.

I have a kitchen units converter on my phone FOR FREE.

I get beautiful glossy runway photos from the latest fashion shows on my phone FOR FREE.

I can shake my phone, which rolls three slot machine wheels, which when they stop will tell me what nearby restaurant I should eat at FOR FREE (the shaking thing is free, not the eating).

And these are just my favorites. I'm giddy as a schoolgirl! The Shakespeare will come in handy tonight when I can read along to Pericles in the park FOR FREE (both that time).

Maybe it's not enough

So I know I'm a big fat liar, and I haven't written in ages, and you all hate me hate me hate me. But I am actually sitting on my couch. Right now. Alone. Watching Big Jim's DNC coverage, and can I just say...

Beau Biden? Foxy.

What's that you say, Beau? Want me to hold your little donkey while you're away? Well, ok, I'll take it.

Lovely #3

First, a pledge: I will, by week's end, supply details of some sort in regard to my prolonged absence from this cozy little corner of the webernet I've carved out as my own. You impatient lot can find clues here and here.

In the meantime, I offer this little gem of post-modern ingenuity...something I found on Web Urbanist (thank you Digg! for keeping me unproductive at work).

Tell me...

...is less actually more?

Lovely #2

La Dolce Vespa offers up an inspired essay on driving in LA. Her truest point: LA drivers get it done, and they do so by exhibiting a great deal of communal heart. This is the kind of thing I'd blog about if I had more than 7 minutes' worth of attention to give any one topic. Thank goodness other people do, or I wouldn't have any books to read and then where would we be?

Lovely #1

Things for sale at http://davidhorvitz.com/if/.

I was about to buy an apology letter, but I saw how many have already been purchased and am worried that at this point all the really juicy apologies have been given, so now I'm trying to decide between an MFA donation and a cookie give-away. I'm also really tempted to spend part of my rebate check to buy the PO box, though I'd like to go on record as being morally opposed to the rebate (doesn't mean I'm not going to cash it).

My newest gmail category: Awesome

Like trips to Utah, I've noticed that blog posts are best when both short and sweet. I've also noticed that, like trips to Utah, blog posts are more often than not prompted by life events (read: funerals) and familial demands (read: blind dates). Hoping to roll all this that I've learned into a more efficient system of yourbird blogging I bring you, dear reader, the new Awesome post. These posts will contain things I think are Awesome. They will offer little explanation in the hopes that you will follow the accompanying link to said Awesomeness. Before launch, a brief discussion of the word 'Awesome'...

I feel this is one of those words that has been phased out and made to be uncool, much like 'groovy' and 'tubular' and 'tight'. Kind readers who have chosen to forget this blogger's age might find themselves suddenly wondering why a hip and savvy urbanite is using such outmoded forms of expression (by the by--'hip' and 'savvy' are surely on this list as well). Why not 'hot' or 'heckof' or 'fierce' (from Christian's lips to Ugly Betty's first night back from the strike. Oy--for more on how I feel about this word, please read paragraph 2 here). Others of you will have expected a more refined and Empire-sounding adjective from a blog whose reading level is high school. But would 'scrumptious' or 'delightful' or 'spot on' really have ended up anywhere but on the same list? I think not. So I give you Awesome. Because that's the first word that comes to my mind when I see something I really like.

Scratch that. I just realized the first word that really comes to mind when I see something I really like is 'Lovely' and so said new posts will be called Lovely, followed by a numerical marking. I'm suddenly looking forward to the opportunity of referring to them in the plural as Lovelies. I was about to delete all that above, but then I thought, "Eh. Full disclosure. This is how I roll."

Participatory Art

Give that Play button a click to listen and vote for my favorite Larry's remix of Radiohead's Nude. Can I tell you how much I love the world wide webernet and online 2.0 creative community thinking for making projects like this so accessible to shmos like you and me?

Should there be a 'c' in 'shmo'? And maybe an 'e'?

Regardless, bless you Radiohead--in a world brimming with proprietary entitlement, you share your deep black well of grooving sadness freely with us all and even encourage us to participate. Let Bono fight poverty--you guys just keep breaking down the wall.

Earth Hour

Turn off the lights this Saturday, March 29th from 8-9pm...find out why here: Earth Hour. Things you can do with friends in the dark:

• make no-bake cookies from memory
• play murder in the dark
• tell scary stories
• get into the business of trading secrets
• play pin-the-tail-on-the-amigo
• sing songs in the cave
• take a night hike (this option makes me want to turn on my big TV and bag the whole thing)

What's more American than a big TV?

I've held out from buying a TV for a long time now, and yet I have only experienced a single period in my life without one, and even that lasted only about 3 weeks (one of the college roomies finally buckled and rented one for the semester... I know, who rents a TV, right?). For years my Dad has been begging to buy me a television just because he loves buying televisions and his home has maxed out at 3--including one so big they had to take the doors off the beautiful entertainment center it was intended for just so it would fit. I have firmly resisted his offers in the hopes that one magical day I would live in a TVfree home filled with productivity and reasonable bed times.

About two years ago I thought that Great Age of Recreational Reading was upon me when Outgoing Roommate packed up her TV before leaving to get married and Incoming Roommate had none coming with her. Hopes were dashed, dear reader, when I came home to find Outgoing Roommate had replaced her own TV with another one that seemed to have appeared out of thin air--we kept expecting her to come pick it up, but she never did. Was it meant as a gift? Outgoing Roommate--you never knew me at all.

Since then Alisa and I have lived on a strict diet of ultra-basic cable and netflix on this ten-inch screen, and we've done quite nicely, thank you very much, despite the inevitable "Hey, that's a big TV you've got there, yuk yuk," we get from 9 out of 10 male visitors to the apartment. Apparently one of our neighbors has shared their sentiment and taken pity on us...when I came home last night from a 10 minute burrito run, this is what I found:

Surely he must have seen us huddling our friends around the tiny screen on the right and found his conscience wouldn't allow it to happen again on his watch, by golly, so now that he's moving out he offered us this giant black box that, as you can see, hardly fits our rolling TV stand. Surely he meant it as a kindness, but I tell you no lie when I say I'm going to miss rolling the stand closer to the couch when I need to see the subtitles. Strangely, I think I'll also miss hauling Cameron's equally giant TV up and down his steps every year when he insists we borrow it for our Oscar party.

But now I'm wondering...what other things can I repeatedly refuse to buy that will eventually end up falling into my lap? Let it be known, dear reader: I refuse to buy this cool rolling planter. And an iPhone. And I especially, above all things, refuse to buy this spectacular jetpack:

fugigglefit

Oh how I love

the fug girls

...enough to blog at work, even. Which I guess leads you to deduce that I was fugging at work as well. Oh H! Now you know all my secrets.

Consider this an endorsement

In regards to the woman on the right--do you think her seat buddies were partying it up in the cockpit? I see absolutely no need for six recording devices.

The Gang (TM) in our nation's capitol

A couple of weeks ago Shawn here...

...got hisself hitched in Washington DC, so The Gang (TM) got out their quart-sized toiletry baggies and started a phone tree to address whether or not we'd be bringing jackets and if we were going to get something to eat, while Diego, stretching his arms behind his head, said to us, "Naw, you guys go ahead. I think I'm just gonna stay in the room. No really, you guys go ahead." So we headed to our nation's capitol.

Apparently I'm not allowed to call this the Friends Trip (TM) , because apparently the Friends Trip (TM) entails certain unquantifiable elements that make it the Friends Trip (TM). But from my point of view, this trip contained all the things we like.

Love

Food

Novelty Photography

and Smiles

Why you gotta fight a good thing, Chippy?

If you're having trouble with the big words...

Now I'm wondering if there's a site that will give me a MPAA rating.

Your Default Song

Work buddy Adam comes to my side of the wall yesterday to tell me what song is in his head (Sheena Easton's "Morning Train"--brutal), I then tell him what song is in my head ("Get Me to the Church on Time"--no joke!), and this all leads to a conversation I can't believe I've never had before: default songs.

Adam asked if there was one particular song that most often comes into my head whenever I try to think of a song to sing to myself, or for something to drown out other noises, voices, thoughts, songs, etc...and the answer is ABSOLUTELY! I've thought about the weirdness of this several times, but I don't think I've ever verbalized it or heard it from someone else. Before I reveal my default song, dear reader, let me make clear that I do not have an affinity for said tune and I can't for the life of me figure out why in a life filled with music this is the one song that makes the most recurring and uninvited appearance.

This has been going on for almost two decades:

Welcome to my nightmare: "Walk of Life" by Dire Straits (seeing it in video form makes it even worse). All the time, friends. All the time. So if you've ever thought to yourself "What's her problem?!" well, now you know.

I hope I'm not betraying Adam when I tell you that his default song is "You Are My Special Angel" by Bobby Helms (and Adam: you HAVE to read the note from Bobby's daughter on the youtube page--she'd be so happy this is your default!).

Care to share your default song with the world? It feels good to get it off your chest--just hit that handy "comments" link...

My Dad just wants us to be little again...

Thank goodness Leah is preggers.

Jump into 2008

Blogfolk, I return with glad tidings of a happy new year and jumping pictures!

Long a staple here, here and here, I have finally succumbed to posting some of my own jumping pics because this one of me in front of Sleeping Beauty's castle is GLORIOUS (look at that shadow behind my arm--how did that even happen?!?! Good work LXIII)! I could not be more pleased with the way the new year began, rung in by 63, Ashley and I--with a little early help from Renee--at Disneyland (don't judge me; do click that link). A few more disney jumps...

I was supposed to send this last one to Renee so she could blog it, but you saw it here first--that's right, folks, a Your Bird exclusive. Sorry Crusty Dusty--but you do look amazing! I know what you're thinking, dear reader: "Where did you find time to ride rides what with so much jumping" --and you know jumping pictures take time. Eventually our calves needed a break and I opted to bring back a former photographic passion: blurring lights.

Just so you know for the next time you see me, this is what I look like in 2008. Don't be afraid.