The Forgotten Arm

This post was supposed to have been written five days ago and been about these adorable pictures of Piper "helping" us wrap presents and unpack.


Then, there was another three days ago and it was supposed to be about these--my fabulous new shoes. I saw them a store window and I remember my grandmother's story and decided to buy them on the spot. (And they were on sale! Score!) But instead my laptop, Sweet Betsy Ross, was infected with a terrible, malicious trojan and I lost days, yes days, battling the archfiend and you in turn lost two posts. And who knows? Those posts could have changed your life. They could have been the blogging equivalents of Rembrants. And now we'll never know. But, with Sweet Betsy reclaimed and oh-so-virus/adware/spyware/malware-free, we can again move forward.

I have recently been struck with a serious craving for a decent Italian soda. My attempts to purchase the syrup had been stymied and I had resorted to club sodas with grenadine, which are delicious, but not what I wanted. I finally tracked down some down at a world market. It was the right brand (Torani) and the right flavor (Raspberry), but somehow it didn't quite hit the mark. Then yesterday, I was almost knocked over by the sudden desire for passionfruit 7UP. I've been nostalgic for Taiwan lately, so it wasn't terribly surprising. I did a Google search and it just so happened that a very large Chinese market was in Chandler and Paul works in Chandler, so I picked Paul up from work (under the devious guise [can guises be devious? probably not] of picking him up from work) and promptly drove off in the opposite direction. The store was quite large and cheap. It looked kind of like Taiwan and it smelled like fish and durians and sold ground pork which is oddly difficult to find, but while it had the right brand of syrup, it sold only the lemon and grape flavors (or "sap" as the bottle's English proclaimed). So we picked up some pork, Meiji almonds, and choco-pies and left. In the car, I mentioned that there was supposed to be another Chinese grocery store on the same road much closer to home, but I had heard only rumors of it. Paul doesn't really like to be kidnapped and taken on multiple exotic grocery trips (he made fun of my willingness to buy meat there but not at Walmart), so I decided I would go by myself today.

I tracked the other store down (turns out it's brand-new) and set off on a wild adventure through West Mesa. I say adventure because the area is always crawling with cops and seems a bit...um, let's say run-down. (Also turns out the store is part of a big "revitalization" push.) Anyway, it was much bigger than the other store and did in fact have my beloved passionfruit syrup. I also bought some plum syrup, which may have been a miscalculation since I realized after tasting it that I liked plum flavored chicken and sweet potato fries, but neither of those taste like anything one drinks. The flavor was dead-on, though, so maybe I can use it in sauces or marinades.

So here I am, enjoying a lovely club soda with passionfruit in the sun while Aimee Mann's "Goodbye Caroline" plays on the stereo. Is there a better way to spend one's time? Okay, enjoying a lovely club soda with passionfruit in the sun while Aimee Mann's "Goodbye Caroline" plays on the stereo on a white sand beach might be an improvement, but this is pretty darn good.

Let There Be Rock!

I know I haven't updated for a while; I've decided it's best just to gloss over the past two weeks. So, shipped Paul off to Utah, bought a Billy Joel album, saw Yes Man, made potstickers, cleaned and organized the entire kitchen, found a new haircut, played with Piper, rediscovered Iron Chef. Whew. A thrilling time, I know. Now, for what this post is really about: arguing over VH1's latest top 20 list. Category? Hard rock songs. Here's their list:

20. You Give Love a Bad Name (Bon Jovi)
19. Tom Sawyer (Rush)
18. Rock You Like a Hurricane (Scorpions)
17. I Wanna Rock (Twisted Sister)
16. Rock and Roll All Nite (Kiss)
15. Dr. Feelgood (Motley Crue)
14. Run to the Hills (Iron Maiden)
13. Photograph (Def Leppard)
12. Breaking the Law (Judas Priest)
11. Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)
10. Ace of Spades (Motorhead)
9. Runnin' with the Devil (Van Halen)
8. Walk This Way (Aerosmith)
7. Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana)
6. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)
5. Enter Sandman (Metallica)
4. Paranoid (Black Sabbath)
3. Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
2. Back in Black (AC/DC)
1. Welcome to the Jungle (Guns 'N' Roses)

You see the outrageous flaws. First, let's all agree that Bon Jovi and Twisted Sister don't even belong on this list. I love Dee Snider as much as the next person, but seriously. Top 20? No. Frankly, the Scorpions and Kiss probably don't deserve the honor either. Although, both songs are legendarily awesome. I'm also kicking off Motley Crue because I just don't like their music and Def Leppard because Photograph is not that great of a song. So, we're down to:

19. Tom Sawyer (Rush)
14. Run to the Hills (Iron Maiden)
12. Breaking the Law (Judas Priest)
11. Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)
10. Ace of Spades (Motorhead)
9. Runnin' with the Devil (Van Halen)
8. Walk This Way (Aerosmith)
7. Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana)
6. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)
5. Enter Sandman (Metallica)
4. Paranoid (Black Sabbath)
3. Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
2. Back in Black (AC/DC)
1. Welcome to the Jungle (Guns 'N' Roses)

Now, the question is are we ranking songs or bands? Songwise, it's not that bad, but bandwise, it's criminal! Guns 'N' Roses over pretty much any band on the list? No sir, that is just not right. So, I offer my superior ranking in order of band awesomeness. I acknowledge that once you hit the top five, they're more or less equal.

14. Welcome to the Jungle (Guns 'N' Roses)
13. Walk This Way (Aerosmith)
12. Runnin' with the Devil (Van Halen)
11. Run to the Hills (Iron Maiden)
10. Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)
9. Breaking the Law (Judas Priest)
8. Tom Sawyer (Rush)
7. Ace of Spades (Motorhead)
6. Paranoid (Black Sabbath)
5. Back in Black (AC/DC)
4. Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana)
3. Enter Sandman (Metallica)
2. Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
1. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)

Songwise, the order is something more like:

14. Runnin' with the Devil (Van Halen)
13. Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
12. Walk This Way (Aerosmith)
11. Run to the Hills (Iron Maiden)
10. Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)
9. Welcome to the Jungle (Guns 'N' Roses)
8. Back in Black (AC/DC)
7. Breaking the Law (Judas Priest)
6. Ace of Spades (Motorhead)
5. Paranoid (Black Sabbath)
4. Tom Sawyer (Rush)
3. Enter Sandman (Metallica)
2. Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana)
1. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)

Still, it's not perfect. If you had to pick Van Halen's best song, would you choose Runnin' with the Devil? And Whole Lotta Love from Led Zeppelin over Kashmir? Sigh. (Shakes head) Oh well, at least I'm posting again. In the last minute, two future topics have been suggested courtesy of House Hunters: bad baby names (Phineas? Is your child a ninety-year-old Amish man?) and absurd Britishisms (there is no such thing as a "cooker").

Regretably, Christmas is Canceled

I regret to inform you that Christmas has been canceled. I'm afraid I simply cannot leave a place of sunshine for snow (even if it is two feet) if it involves air travel. Don't blame me. I checked it out. We could drive home easily--most of the roads are clear and visibility is excellent. But that big mean Grinch Paul said no and driving away by myself (well, with Piper for the companionship and all) probably wouldn't lead to good things there. Even if we were driving, I don't know what I'd bring our clothes in because I can't get the suitcases out. The noise they make...it's just like that awful rattling of the overhead storage bins at take-off. No, I've said it before, but I've never meant it so much. No flying. If that means it's the year without a Christmas, so be it.

What IS Up Doc?

Well, the semester has collapsed into finals (which are next week), so I finally have some time to think and sleep. Let's see. Paul successfully passed his 90-day review at work and was rewarded with a hefty raise. He's still very busy at work. There's a very funny story about why, but I'm not sure if I can post it. I don't want Paul to get fired too! We bought a new TV as a slightly early Christmas present to us. It's the 32" Sony LCD TV I mentioned before. We got it for a better price too, courtesy of Circuit City's bankruptcy. The old one wasn't doing so hot, so I figured it was replace it now during the fine sales season or replace it sometime during the next year when TVs may or may not be on sale. I really like it. It's a good thing it mostly covers Christmas because buying presents is hard for people with disposable income. Paul just buys himself what he wants, so there's nothing left for me to get him! (Yes, I am well-aware of how incredibly fortunate we are to be in such a position and yes, I feel the appropriate level of guilt, which is why I am having been answering yes every time I'm asked if I want to donate a dollar to [insert name of worthy charity here] at the checkout and tipping generously.) If you have any good Paul-present related insights, please share them because I don't!

There is No Me in Avant-Garde

There is no me in avant garde. Or we. Paul and I learned this last night as we yet again embarked on "an adventure." Oh foolish mortals, when will we learn that there is a reason we live a normal life? It's because we're NORMAL. By definition, if one are not normal, then one is abnormal. Who wants to be abnormal?

Our tale begins on Tuesday, when someone courteously left behind an alternative publication at the bus stop. I need to kill some time, so I started flipping through it. There was an ad for a film--Repo: The Genetic Opera--which Paul and I had periodically discussed. It had an intriguing premise (it's a horror opera--really, almost every line is sung) and cast (Paul Sorvino, Sarah Brightman, Anthony Head, even Paris Hilton). It was an 1-day engagement with one of those director-writer Q and A sessions after the film. So we said, what the heck? Let's be adventurous. So, I bought the tickets--little nervous about the part that said dressing in costume is encouraged--and on Thursday, despite the many better and more important things we had to do, drove off to a little dollar movie theater in Chandler. I became slightly more nervous given the amount of black and capes as we waited to verify our names and ages (you didn't actually get tickets, they put your name on a list at the door), but figured it was part of the adventure. We got in, found seats in a giant theater with with tables (like the Alamo Drafthouse!) and random pieces of furniture to make extra seats. (Ever watched a movie in a church pew? Me neither, but I know where to now.) Soon, the theater was overflowing with black, fishnets, piercings, and leather. Still, I held steady. Hadn't Chris Hicks once written that there was a certain amount of humor being there for one of those Rocky Horror Picture Show things? We sat through the opening banter and then the director, writer, and composer took the mike. The director opened by saying that Repo: The Genetic Opera had been called the worst film ever, the worst movie of the year. This is when genuine panic first set in. What were we in for? Well, something. A few parts were good, more were interesting, many I covered my eyes for. In brief, there's a man (the Repo Man) who repossessions organs. He's been coerced into the job (he's really a doctor, you see) because his daughter is ill. His boss is the villian. He is also the man's dead wife's ex-lover and possibly the daughter's biological father. Throw in the boss' three worthless children (in the role of the bawdy buffoon) who are squabbling over their dying father's estate, a drug-dealing grave robber/narrator, and a blind opera singer who is also owned by the villian and was the dead ex-lover's best friend. There's mostly revenge, some parents-must-let-go-at-some-point, a smattering of mixed social commentary (obsessions with plastic surgery, drug addiction, the evils of consumerism/genetic modification/etc.) as the plot's connective tissue. Paul and I had a secret signal worked out if we had to flee--three quick squeezes of the hand. Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication and I misinterpreted Paul's attempt to flee as him wrongly thinking I wanted to flee. Thus we wound up staying for the whole thing. And thing really is the word for it. It certainly gave us much to talk about on the drive home.

Paul's Official Opinion: Repo is a terrible movie--but stylish. It's uniquely terrible. The gore was over-the-top, yet lacked a payoff. C+ (B as average)
Jennifer's Official Opinion: Repo is a disappointing movie. It was often interesting, but lacked any real development of the plot or characters. The opera aspect was really underdeveloped. This is impressive when you consider than 95% of the movie was sung. (Paul agrees.) C+

Have Yourself a Merry Little Thanksgiving Now

Thanksgiving was a small affair for us this year. It was just us and I didn't have any pie pans, so it was a little less like Thanksgiving and a little more like a fancy Sunday dinner. We just had turkey, mashed potatoes, and rolls. And I still haven't made that pumpkin pie. I did buy a pie pan though. Apparently, Black Friday deals don't apply to pie pans or Walmart stores as it turns out. Those with particularly keen visual acuity will note that the very, very fine print notes that "local" prices and advertised online prices may differ and prices are not guaranteed. Thus a Sony Bravia 32" TV can be shown online as costing $498--and not available online for purchase--and $598 at the actual store. Not that I want to break kneecaps over it or anything.

In Kittenwatch '08, Piper has destroyed some carpeting and is proving scratching post-resistant. She also came dangerously close to eating my engagement ring (Paul had to snatch it from her tiny jaws), so now all of my jewelry has to be stored in its box at all times. I don't know what it is, but she really likes that ring. She tried to bite it off my finger today. I don't really enforce kitty discipline, but she's going to get spritzed in the face if this continues. Other than that, she does pretty much normal cat stuff. Which is cute and all to me, but Paul gets a huge kick out of it. It's like what people say about the wonder of the Christmas and children's eyes, only with the wonder of cats and Paul. Everything is new and exciting and entertaining. Sure, Piper will chase a laser light around for an hour, but Paul's the one laughing and operating said laser light for an hour. He's currently trying to teach her how to "talk" with some success. (Piper is an extremely quiet cat. She doesn't even really meow, just kind of murmurs.) Here's some pictures we took of her doing "cute" things. She's merely tolerating the camera in the second one and the third one is from Thanksgiving before dinner. I don't know about you, but nothing says vacation and comfort like a Quark's Bar shirt and "weekend pants" as Land's End euphemistically calls them. Oh, and that's Paul's behemoth of a birthday computer in the background of the first shot.

Creeping Towards Thanksgiving

I've heard complaints from little birdies that I'm not updating my blog enough. I agree, but for heaven's sake, it was the week before Thanksgiving, one of the most treacherous weeks of the semester. I made it out alive by the skin of my teeth! I kid, but it really is getting tight. It's that point in the semester where the professors realize what they have planned and what they have time for are no longer able to be reconciled. The good professors accept this and cut down their plans accordingly. The bad professors just keep on combining days and assignments and assume it will somehow magically work out. I have only one good professor. I'm burned out and tired of being sick, Paul's been pretty sick and exhausted as well. We really need a decent break.

Piper continues to show her personality. She's very inquisitive, exhaustively investigating every cranny, surface, noise, scent, person, etc. She's already climbed behind the washer, gotten inside the dresser, and tried to jump behind the oven. Thankfully, I caught her in mid-jump. I tried to take more pictures, but she was fascinated by the camera. All I got were blurry photos of various parts of her. We've also discovered that while she does like cat toys, what she really like is small balls of foil--preferably a couple of York wrappers or Klondike bars. She will chase those around for hours. She is also a skilled cricket catcher and likes sleeping on hard flat surfaces like tables or the top of the dresser. She still tries to eat moving appendages.

Hope this keeps the little birdies happy for a few days. :)