I suggest

Sometimes I do crazy things. Like drink several cups of coffee the day after I was miserably sick to my stomach because I drank too much coffee. At least, that is why I think I was miserably sick. It might of been because I was licking the salt lamp. Some friends of ours were gifted a lamp that they didn't like. They gave it to us. I think it is very pretty. It is also made of a giant piece of Himalayan salt. Yeah, so I spent some time licking it. Whatever.

Anyway, the coffee drinking. I get a bit worked up when I drink that much coffee. The words coming out of my mouth, though words that I would say, are not the words that I meant to say. I find myself giving in to that secret inner belief that I am the foremost authority on anything and everything that could possibly come up in conversation. I am a talker. And I've had several cups of coffee today.

I wanted to expand a little on one of the books in my "what you should read right now" column. Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow is just one of the best books ever. Like, ever. It is set in "the future" (2019? The soon-to-be-upon-us future) and it is wonderful, intelligent, reverent sci-fi. D is reading it right now (sort of) as a result of one of those conversations that go, "You never read female writers. What are you? Sexist or something?", and then he points to the Zadie Smith books on his shelf (two), and says that women don't write the kinds of books that he likes (sci-fi). Mary Doria Russell is a physicist, and adult convert to Judaism. The protagonist of the novel is a Jesuit priest/linguist.
I am the child of a linguist. I will admit to having a bias towards linguisticy-smarts. Sandoz is a wonderful, brilliant, loving main character.
The book follows the linguist/priest Sandoz as life is discovered on Alpha Centauri and the Jesuits decide to go. I want to quote the prologue to you here, just because it is so good I don't believe anyone could not want to read the book afterward.

"It was predicatable, in hindsight. Everything about the history of the Society of Jesus bespoke deft and efficient action, exploration and research. During what the Europeans were pleased to call the Age of Discovery , Jesuit priests were never more than a year or two behind the men who made initial contact with previously unknown peoples; indeed, Jesuits were often the vanguard of exploration.
The United Nations required years to come to a decision that the Society of Jesus reached in ten days. In New York, diplomats debated long and hard, with many recesses and tablings of the issue, whether and why human resources should be expended in an attempt to contact the world that would become known as Rakhat when there were so many pressing needs on earth. In Rome, the questions were not whether or why but how soon the mission could be attempted and whom to send.
The Society asked leave of no temporal government. It acted on its own principals, with its own assets, on Papal authority. The mission to Rakhat was undertaken not so much secretly as privately - a fine distinction but one that the Society felt no compulsion to explain or justify when the news broke several years later.
The Jesuit scientists went to learn, not to proselytize. They went so that they might come to know and love God's other children. They went for the reason Jesuits have always gone to the farthest frontiers of human exploration. They went ad majorem Dei gloriam: for the greater glory of God.
They meant no harm."

Go read this freaking book. I just, oh, it gives me chills and I want to read it again. There is a sequel, which is important and equally wonderful. I have lately started finding them cropping up in used bookstores. I don't know what was wrong with their previous owners, but I suggest you profit from their imbecility.

Also, this woman is my current favorite person on the internet. I've been reading a lot of blogs lately and people are - how do I put this delicately? - mostly humorless bores. Or prigs. Or preposterously self-obsessed pretentious people. Which doesn't mean I don't subscribe to their blogs and eat up every bit of ridiculous advice on (insert appropriate topic here) as if they really are the experts they think they are. Shauna, at glutenfreegirl.com, however, is lovely. And normal looking. And a really talented writer. And genuinely not trying to be anything she isn't. And she makes amazing gluten-free everythings. Gluten-free everythings that I feel capable of reproducing in my own kitchen. And I like her. She is today's internet crush.

homemade is well-made

I have been notified that my camera is shipped! Hurray!

I wandered into some very cool things the other day. Firstly, I found this blog which I find sometimes very silly and sometimes wuuuuuunderfully helpful. The most wonderful of the wonderful finds was this post on making your own body lotion. Amazing. I have adult eczema which, I assure you, is a pain in the ass, and I spend just all of my money on expensive lotions and moisturizers. To have the ability to make them myself?! And for an extremely cheap amount of money!? Glory be. Also, I recently acquired a lotion specifically meant for eczema treatment, meaning it is 1% colloidal oatmeal. This particular lotion is upwards of $13 for 8 oz. That is ridiculous. So I found this: how to make your own oatmeal bath (on babyparenting.com, obviously, because that is who has eczema. Babies.). This teaches you how to make colloidal oatmeal in your blender which you can then (I imagine) easily add to your homemade moisturizer.

I will let you know how this goes. Or, maybe I won't and you will just receive a surprise gift of homemade moisturizer in your mailbox.

Also, through some friends blogs, I found this gem of a gluten-free blog. Flat bread recipe looks amazing, though I'm not sure my hand-me-down blender is entirely up for the job.

In other news, I got my hair cut. At the mall. I have been needing a hair cut for months now. About five, I'd say. Maybe eight (how long ago did you move, Haley?). I cut it myself (see something in a previous post about self hair cuttery), with minimal success (I mean, it was shorter) but have recently been craving a real, stylized, posh sort of hairs on my head. D and I have a friend who works in the mall. His girlfriend also works in the mall and cuts hair. Well. Plus, since she is a friend (or friend of a friend) she made it so that I can actually afford getting my hair cut at the mall. And, I like it. A lot.

Do it yourownself, dammit.

Hi. Again.

So I spend a lot of my internet time looking at DIY wedding sites. It is a hobby of mine which I have indulged in for years. I also like to read the wedding magazines in B&N whenever I find myself there.

I love this one.

I really like weddings. Really really. I will go to almost any wedding if I can snag an invitation. I'm not entirely sure of my motives for the wedding loving. The obvious is probably true; that I am a wedding-craving girl-loony. I hope that there is more to it than that. I like to think that I am incredibly crafty and that plumbing the depths of the wild world web will help me to perfect my craft.
Confession: I am not actually crafty.
I'm not sure what I am exactly, but it isn't crafty. I think I am more . . . spontaneous. Or dauntless. Whatever word means recklessly optimistic. Like cutting my own hair, or turning some clothing into other clothing. I'm 100% certain I can do it, regardless of the end product. Hair grows, you know. Always. I have bins full of half completed attempts at turning pants into skirts. Does this stop me from starting another pant/skirt transformation? No. No it does not.

However, true crafts thwart me. Case in point: damn paper cranes. Oh sure, they are crane-like, completed and replete across the back of my printer, but are they crisp and clean looking? Would you want them anywhere where some-other actually had to look that them? No. No, most definitely not. Of course, I am using recycled printer paper from my recycle drawer. I like to think that origami paper would slide into its corners in a much more graceful manner. Don't you think?

Regardless, weddings. Weddings are wonderful. I was glad to learn that Drew likes weddings too. We're actually totally snobby. We sit and critique choices in music, food, colors, flowers, blah blah blah. Which is a little bit hilarious, if you think about it. We are unmarried and snide. I think we would make a wonderful wedding planning team. We are eclectic and strange. So, I guess, if our wedding should ever roll around, you all should strive to be there. Because it will be awesome. I will make thousands of paper cranes, just promise not to look at them too closely.

This is my favorite new thing on www.soyoureengayged.com. Click it. I think I would get married just so I could get a nice letter from Obama. That might be an understatement. I might sell my kidneys for a nice letter from Obama. You know how that goes.


EDIT: I mentioned my "crafting" tendencies to Drew, namely the skirt/pants/skirt/pants cycle, and his response was, "Isn't that one of the clear definitions of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting the outcome to change?"
So. Yeah.

As a part of my work I maintain a website. I've been working here for almost five months and just learned how to do this last week. I feel like Mark Zuckerberg, only sans the genius and math parts. We watched The Social Network the other day and I came away with two major observations:

1. Mark Zuckerberg is an evil genius,
2. Justin Timberlake is one seriously homely fellow.

I guess I'd never really looked at him before when he wasn't doing something else really well, like dancing or being hilarious on SNL. When he is just standing there his mish-mash of a face is a little disconcerting. In many ways, I find this hopeful. Americans buy fame with their faces so often. It's nice to see someone whose talent merits the hoopla.

Website management and (sigh) newsletter creation are awful. I am thrilled, of course, to have something of the "work" variety to do here, at my desk, on my refurbished computer, in my cave of a crowded, windowless office (redundant so you get it). Considering no one calls me (except for Kevin. Hi, Kevin!), visits me, or needs me, I was starting to go a little nuts. This, at least, is a reason to be chained here and strongly discouraged from leaving. It feels wuuuuuuunderful.

These endless preceding months have enabled me to develop my mad-savy intertube (that's my cutesy nickname for the world wide web. We're close like that.) sifting skills. I find all sorts of interesting crap on the internet! I have my websites, mostly humor based, which I frequent. For a while I had a contest that I entered every day (and I am considering entering the search for contests into my daily intertube routine), and I, of course, am incredibly versed in which celebrities have various deformities. That's an incredible use of the internet right there.

I am starting to wish that I had a digital camera. I've never really wanted one before, but I live alone now, and have been convinced by everyone else's blog-led lives that I am at least as clever/artsy/snide as anyone else. I just need a camera to prove it. Also I want to learn how to make marzipan. And fabric flowers.

You are probably wondering why blog posts have been so few and far between if I am spending as much time as claimed swimming the internet. I have no explanation for you. As far as I can tell, I am lazy.

Since acquiring a boyfriendother, my productivity has plummeted. I'm pretty sure it is his fault. I used to do . . . something. Stuff? I had friends, maybe. I am sure I did. Whatever, regardless, yesterday I decided to make good on my time. Things I did yesterday:

• sewed a button on D's shirt
• hemmed a pocket
• swept my apt.
• did some dishes
  
• tore the seam out of some pillowcases (they will eventually be a skirt)
• sorted my laundry (thought it all ended up back in the same basket since I only have one laundry basket and I didn't actually do laundry yesterday).
• made up my mind to go swimming today.

I will go swimming today.

If anyone still reads this, I hereby promise to be here more often, waiting for your visits.