The power of love

How cool is this? I'm sitting in my chair in the dining room--the green velvet upholstered chair in the corner--and writing a journal entry. Not only am I writing it, I'm writing it in Blogger, and when I'm finished I'll hit "publish," and it will be immediately published. And should I feel so inclined, I could pick up and go into the living room and watch television and continue to blog because I bought an iBook yesterday! And it's here today!

I've wanted one forever, of course, but just didn't feel like I could justify it. Then a day or so ago, when I was on Amazon.com, I noticed that they were offering a $100 rebate on the smallest iBook--the one that I wanted--and I figured well, I could write it off on my taxes since I use it for my business, and if I buy it before the end of the year that would make sense, and I just went ahead and did it.

The reason it's here today is that I splurged on one-day shipping. I really didn't need one day shipping, and honestly, it wasn't because I'm obsessive or anything, it was so I could insure that they wouldn't send it in the mail and would have to send it Fed Ex (or UPS overnight, which is what they did). The postman that delivers mail to our office won't deliver packages. We don't know exactly why, but he never even attempts to deliver them, he just puts a slip in the box and we have to go to the post office to pick them up. I had to do that this morning to pick up another package from Amazon that I had ordered (the complete [only] season of Firefly for Bob's anniversary gift). And frankly, I just wanted to avoid having to mess around with it in this case.

Two day shipping was $26, and one day shipping was another $15, and I just thought, what the heck. Live a little. So it came today and I charged it up at work, and here I am, back in my comfortable chair with the laptop on my actual lap.

I won't be using it for everything, because of course I still have my wonderful eMac with the huge, clear screen, but this will give me some options. It came with Airport already installed, so since we had Roadrunner install a wireless network for Bob, all had to do was turn it on, and I'm online, and I can get on the wireless network at work, too, and, like I told Bob, I can get on the various wireless networks that they have everywhere now--Starbucks, Panera Bread, Borders--so if I'm so inclined, I could check my email or blog or whatever from practically anywhere. How cool is this? Very cool.

I've been listening to the audio version of Anansi Boys in the car, and I finished it tonight on the way home. I won't spoil it for anyone that might be planning on reading it, but something happens toward the end where a song is mentioned, and I started to cry. It's not just the song, of course, but the feeling and meaning behind it, but it made me think how affected I am by music.

Misty and Sam have several friends who are musicians, and they played and sang at the wedding. (Several of them are in a band called Joe's Pet Project. Misty sent me a copy of the ceremony ahead of time, and when I saw that the ceremony was ending with someone singing, "The Power of Love," it made me choke up, and I honestly have no idea why. But every time I thought of it, it almost made me cry. All of their musical choices were wonderful--Ben Harper's "Forever," the Indigo Girls' "Mystery," The Nields' "One Hundred Names." An East Mountain South song--"So You Are to Me." And after the ceremony, when they were married, they danced back up the aisle to "Concrete and Clay." And just thinking about them dancing, with such light in their faces, makes me feel like crying again. But then when Scott--who performed the wedding ceremony--broke into "The Power of Love," it just made me want to laugh and grin and cry at the same time.

So amazing. The power of music. And the power of love.

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Always prepared

What a week it's been! Bob was out of town last weekend, and I, as I mentioned, spent Saturday trying on underwear, and Sunday doing laundry and cleaning the house. He got back on Tuesday, and we went out to dinner for our anniversary--29 years! Which means, I believe, that we got married the year Misty was born . . .

I had called and made a reservation at Stephenson's Old Apple Farm, "our place," but with everything else that was going on, I decided I didn't feel like driving all the way out there, so we went to On the Border for Mexican and had big Margaritas. Wednesday night was dinner out with Misty and her bridesmaids and another friend--two glasses of wine. Thursday was a shower, but I didn't go -- it started at 4:30 and I just couldn't get there, so instead, I worked late. And I think maybe Bob left that night to go hunting . . . it's all kind of a blur.

I know he was gone Friday, because the rehearsal was Friday night, then the rehearsal dinner afterward. It was cool out, and it made me realize that I was going to need some kind of wrap, so I got up early Saturday morning and went shopping again. I found a beautiful black velvet jacket with a cut velvet shawl collar--too expensive, but it was beautiful and perfect, and so I just decided to get it and not try to find something else. Then I ran a few more quick errands, got a quick lunch at Long John Silver's, then went home to get ready.

We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day. The weather cooperated -- no rain -- it was cool and clear and windy. I was glad I had the jacket! Bob came to the rescue not once, but four times: he had a knife in his pocket to cut the packaging off the new extension cords for the band/sound system; he went out and bought bottled water for the band (and for me); he had a lighter in his pocket and kept the little candle lighter boy's candle lit; and he provided Misty's mother with a clean handkerchief when she started to cry during the ceremony.

I was telling David about Bob being a hero at the wedding, and he said, "As ever!" Bob is pretty much always prepared for anything. Most people don't seem to really think about it. When we were in the cave last year and the lights went out, he and I were the only ones with flashlights -- little ones that we keep on our keychains.

When I was changing purses for the wedding -- I had a small black one that I was switching to in lieu of my big brown leather one -- I remembered something I'd seen on a website recently: "CLICK." That's what you need to have in your evening bag. Cell phone, lipstick, identification, cash, keys. And that's what I took. Plus a credit card just in case, and a pen, because I always have to have a pen. I wished later I'd remembered to bring a hairbrush, after standing around in the wind for three or four hours, but then I remembered that I had one in my gym bag in the trunk of the car, along with spare clothes, moisturizer, toothpaste . . . I could easily spend the night somewhere if I needed to. I know Bob always keeps a change of clothes in his van, just in case.

In case of what, I'm not sure.

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October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Too much information

As I've mentioned before, Misty's wedding is next weekend. Yesterday I knew I had to figure out what I was going to wear. TIme was running out.

Over the last few years I've arranged my life so that I never have to go to the mall, never have to go to the big department stores (except for Clinique gift-with-purchase events, of course, and then I just zip into the store and out, and never actually go into the main part of the mall at all). I thought I might have to do that this time, but I started out at the discount stores, and found a dress right away, at Marshall's.

It's long, long-sleeved, black, and slim, and very low cut. It's those last two -- slim and low-cut -- that gave me pause. But it's a lovely dress, and it wasn't terribly expensive, so I figured I'd spend the rest of my budget (okay, so I didn't really have a budget, but it seems necessary to justify spending $50 on underwear) on undergarments. Undergarments that, you know, actually do something rather than just cover me up for the sake of decency.

Push-up bras and something called "shapewear," that's sort of like a girdle, and sort of not . . .

I spent the entire afternoon in Kohl's lingerie department, trying on bras (and "shapewear" which is a whole other category of torture, believe me--I bought a "smoother," which is more or less just really tight underwear.).

I'd go pick out three or four bras that didn't look too bad, go wait for the dressing room, go in and try them on, take them back out, find three or four more, lather, rinse, repeat. You know what would be really good? A bra department that's closed off from the rest of the store and you could just walk around and try them on without all the constant dressing and undressing. That's the part that wears you down.

I ended up buying four bras--two black ones, one (the "push up" one) padded, one not, and two more in the same two styles, but purple, and that only because I couldn't find my size in white or beige. I figured after all that work trying them on, I should get a couple, since, of course, if my usual luck holds, they will now stop making those styles.

In other domestic news, I made soup this morning, which is always one of the indications that it actually is turning into winter here. When Bob and I were having our discussion the other day about what I would eat while he was out of town, he suggested I make soup and chili, and I could alternate those two meals until he got back to cook for me "properly."

My soup is pretty simple. Carrots, onions, potatoes, celery, tomatoes, white beans, salt and pepper, and water. I mostly just keep putting things in until the crockpot is full, then turn it on and leave it for about 24 hours. I'll have wonderful, fragrant soup in the morning to take to work for lunch all week.

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October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Eating vs. dining

As I mentioned yesterday, dinner at our house is often pretty weird. I hardly ever cook anymore. Since I'm working downtown and never get home before 7:00 p.m., and sometimes much later, Bob has become my personal chef. He calls me around 4:00 or so and asks me, "What should I cook you for dinner?" It's usually a piece of frozen fish or shrimp in sauce, baked in the oven, and some kind of vegetable, either creamed spinach, asparagus or brocolli. Sometimes he makes me an omelette; last night it was Eggs Benedict and fresh cauliflower. I usually eat about half of whatever he makes me, and bring the other half to work for lunch the next day.

He did sit down with me and eat last night, but most nights he either cooks an entirely separate dinner for himself, or just has a sandwich or something. Yesterday afternoon when he called and asked if I would like Eggs Benedict for dinner, I told him that he didn't have to go to all that trouble, and he said no, he wanted to, because it would probably be the only good dinner I would have until Tuesday night--he's going out of town for the weekend and won't be back until sometime Tuesday.

I asked him what he thought I'd be eating over the weekend, and he said, "I shudder to think." Years ago, when he would go out of town, I would use it as an excuse to stock up on frozen Stouffer's entrees at the supermarket, and eat those for a week. Lately I'm more likely to eat out every night--maybe Chili's one night, pick up a burrito bol at Chipotlé one night, maybe get Chinese at the grocery store counter. And then there are the nights that I have wine coolers and ice cream . . .

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October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Fever dreams

I've had the weirdest dreams lately.

Or maybe the dreams aren't any weirder than they usually are, maybe I'm just noticing them more because I'm sleeping lighter. We've been sleeping with the windows open, which I adore, but which also keeps me from sleeping deeply through the night, so I'm always waking up.

Last night I had several odd dreams, but I only remember one of them, which was really odd. I dreamed that Bob wanted me to kill him. It was because he was out of clean underwear. He insisted that if I would just kill him, he would come back to life, and when he did, he would have plenty of underwear. That didn't seem likely to me, so I was resisting, but he kept trying to talk me into it.

When I woke up this morning I told Bob about the dream, and he said that he had had a weird dream, too. He dreamt that there were mice in the house, specifically, purple mice, and they were dropping out of the exhaust fan in the bathroom. He was trying to keep it a secret from me because he knew I would freak out about it.

I was telling Cello about both of these dreams today, and he said, "What did you guys eat for dinner last night?!?" Which reminded me of Bob's dinner. He had made a lovely dinner for me--shrimp in a cheese sauce, and asparagus--but when I asked him if he had had any dinner himself, he said he had had a can of tuna mixed with cottage cheese, and saltines with strawberry jam. He got hungry around 10:00, and we went out and drove through McDonald's, where he got a couple of fish sandwiches and some fries, and I had an ice cream cone.

When I told Cello about the 10:00 p.m. McDonald's run, he said, "Yeah, the food there is like LSD." Maybe there's something to that.

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October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month