Miles to Go Before I Sleep

I can't believe it's been a year.

Last week, I was in Half-Price Books and came across a book Cherie and I had dearly loved, and much to our chagrin, could never find in hardback. I have no idea why, once online second-hand bookstores became common, we didn't think to look there--probably just because we'd been looking in second-hand shops for it since about 1994, and it didn't occur to us.

I spotted the hardback on the clearance shelf for $3, and just about let out a "whoop" of joy right there. I grabbed it, shook it at the crappy ceiling of the store, and said, "We got it, Cherie."

This year has been full of rediscovering awesome memories I'd nearly forgotten, a lot of crying, a lot of realizing how waiting for reunion in heaven seems impossibly long, a lot of raw and ugly anger that was terrifying in its intensity. It's made me feel closer to Cherie in ways I'd never have predicted, and it's also made me feel near insane when I can't repress the urge to talk to her aloud. It's made my heart break realizing that this process has been intensely, exponentially more difficult for her family.

Happy Homecoming day, Cherie. You earned this rest, that's for sure. But we all sure do miss you.

Sunny (Kinda) Cali!

It was an early morning with a flight and time-change that made for a long day, but it was fun. Here are some highlights:

• realizing that Dr. Totten from UNT's SLIS was in the TSA security line right behind me at DFW
  
• riding in a convertible through Beverly Hills, Mulholland Drive, Rodeo Drive, and Santa Monica with Greg, Cari, & Emma
• the resulting crispy shoulders (despite liberally applying 30 - 50 spf sunscreen four times)
• seeing dolphins playing in the waves at Santa Monica
• eating almond-chocolate-chunk ice cream on Santa Monica Pier
• photographing my favorite part of the Pier: glimpses of the waves beneath the boardwalk
• passing Kodak Theater and Groman's Theater
• chatting with a librarian/vendor from Melbourne on the shuttle from LAX
• getting a tremendously-upgraded room at Residence Inn... and finding three closets and two balconies in it!
• finally staying in a hotel with free wifi
• eating at In-N-Out Burger (nod to Tihleigh)
  
• "talking" to Alex (still in Russia); he was IMing Robert, who called me, and we had an interesting three-way conversation
• sitting in my hotel room, getting annoyed at the loud upstairs neighbors... realizing there *is* no upstairs... walking outside and realizing it's the enormously loud/huge fireworks at Disneyland... and laughing at myself
• (did I mention my room has three closets and two balconies? yeah, dude.)
• exchanging thunderstorm stories and befuddlement at the convention center entrance with a Library Journal exhibitor from NYC
• walking around the Convention Center... the looooong way
  
• being so tired from the long day and time change that I ate popcorn for dinner--thank goodness for Residence Inn's kitchenette!

This isn't even all of the selected photos from today.... but it's a start.

More Letters to Cherie

It makes me angry, now, to watch Battlestar Galactica. One of the main characters, President Laura Roslin, has cancer, and it hurts me and makes me angry all at once, that she looks nothing like a cancer patient. Oh, they give her a skincap once in awhile to show her bald, and her wig is sufficiently un-shiny to look like a wig rather than natural hair, but other than that, she just looks tired all the time. Like, mother-of-three-children tired, not fighting-for-her-life tired. They tried a little harder with a cameo role of a character that died of cancer--but they but such odd, harsh makeup on her that she just looked dirty, like she'd been playing in mudpies. She was still fleshy, whole, untouched by disease--just dirty.

It makes me think of your graveside service, when I see Laura Roslin. It reminds me that standing next to your coffin was probably the hardest thing I have had to do in my entire life. I thought it would be difficult, beforehand--I had no idea.

It was all I could do, hanging physically on to Jayne for dear life and biting my lip, to keep from screaming and throwing myself forward. If it had been an open-casket service, I don't think I would have made it.

I kept looking at that coffin and picturing your disease-wasted body lying there. And I think it was painful on two levels. I wanted to throw myself onto your body, to touch your body one last time, to see your golden eyelashes and your freckles--it was some deep visceral need that I didn't anticipate or understand. And on another level, I couldn't stand to even imagine your wasted body there, so unlike the body I used to know, before it was twisted by cancer and treatments and prescription drugs. I know in either case, I know, that that body is not you, was never you, even before that disease captured you. I know that your "you-ness," your soul, is long gone and destined for a better locale. But that didn't make it any easier.

The last time I saw you, barely able to lift your legs onto the recliner footrest, your legs were mostly bone, kneecaps knobily protruding from what had once been vibrant, muscular legs, capable of back-handsprings and running after two energetic kids. Your arms were so thin that it's painful to even think of it, and your face was swollen from the steroids--you wryly compared it to a chipmunk's. You made us all laugh at your comments about your complete lack of any butt, the fact that you could still somehow gain weight in your face and your stomach. But in the end, it was so hard to see you look so alien, to wonder where that body I had known had gone. To see my strong, vibrant friend so frail.

So I see these characters on TV shows, in movies--they all have cancer now. It seems everwhere I turn, there's a plot where someone dies. I'm sure everyone feels this way when they lose someone. But still, it makes me so angry. I want them to take the President Laura Roslin on Battlestar Galatica, and make her face look pinched and drawn--or swollen by drugs. I want to see her arms look thin and wasted, her legs look so frail as to nearly be incabable of supporting her body. It makes me resent her, that her acting expects me, the audience, to be sympathetic toward her plight, to fear for her health and feel sorrow for her pain. I simply don't believe it. She doesn't look sick, or exhausted. She doesn't have cancer, and I know it. My suspension of disbelief is no longer willing.

I cry a lot more now, at anything. Part of it is that every plot line is related to death, or cancer, often both. Part of it is that emotion seems always to be bubbling just beneath the surface--good ones, bad ones, all kinds. Except for those days when I'm too numb to feel anything. On those days, I wonder if I'm dispassionate, or happy you're no longer in pain, or too busy to feel anything, or forgetting you, or if I'm simply over your death. But I'm not--it's just another wave of numb, to be followed by another wave of sorrow. In and out, the tides flow.

I feel like no one who's not in this sorrow with me can understand. I need to talk about you, think about you, look at your pictures and--even more so--your handwriting. When I look at your handwriting, you seem so alive. Perhaps everyone feels this way, or perhaps it's just that in high school and college, we wrote so much together--stories, yes, but also notes in class and goofing around. We didn't write notes and then hand them to each other, we wrote entire conversations, sometimes talking at the same time, sometimes simply silently communicating through words. Your handwriting is, to me, like your voice--therefore reading it isn't like watching some static photograph of you. It is you, almost audibly speaking to me, in the present.
Your photo is on my bedside table, on my desk at work, and I've been carrying your senior picture with me in my backpack for weeks. I feel like anyone who doesn't understand will see it as some bizarre shrine, some evidence that I don't believe you're in Heaven, or that I'm obsessed. I think it's just my way of reaching out for your presence, not to hold you on earth, but to know that my (I keep using the word "vibrant," what's another word for this, for you?) hilarious creative friend is still alive. Not here on earth, but alive in a far more real way.

Everything I just wrote was about my own selfish sorrow--I certainly feel a lot of that, but it's tempered by my knowledge that for you, this is better. You are happier, you are without pain, you are waiting for us. But I also hurt far more for your family, particuarly for your mom and your sister. I cannot fathom what they must feel, knowing that their sorrow must be so much deeper than my own. It makes me unspeakably sad, and it strengthens my resolve in the promise I made you. And I pray for them, oh I haven't prayed this much in years. When I hurt for them, I pray.

And I remember what you told Mom, at Sasha's funeral, that it wasn't sad, that this was just the beginning for her. That it wasn't a waste of her young life, but that she got to go on to the real life that much sooner. And I know you were right, that you are right. Sometimes I can nearly see your wry smile as you shake your head about all the fuss we're making. But it's so amazingly hard, being left behind. I cannot believe it, it amazes me constantly how hard it is. I didn't see you every week, every day. I lived far away, I hadn't lived in the same room as you for twelve years. And still, it is this hard.

I've been talking a lot with a friend at work, who lost her younger brother in a car accident three months ago. I cannot believe, at times, that she is able to keep going. She didn't get a last chance to say goodbye like I did, she had no idea that this was coming, that he would be lost in an instant in a car crash. I know it's incredibly difficult for her, every single day--and I'm thankful that she talks to me about it, that we each have someone who understands a bit of this experience.

I started reading "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion, about the year after her husband suddenly died of a heart attack. I'd been wanting to read it for over a year--and now it's exactly what I wanted. I would have thought the last thing I'd want is to read a book about grief--but that's what I want, to hear someone else say "this is how it is" and "this is okay" and "you might later expect this." It makes me cling to Alex like he's a life preserver, or like he might suddenly vanish. It makes me almost want to have kids and screw that I'm not ready for that or wanting them at this moment--but just in case, just in case. To quote "The Time Traveler's Wife," when Claire talks about wanting a child with her husband, Henry:

"...I wanted Henry to be in this child, so that when he was gone he wouldn’t be entirely gone, there would be a bit of him with me…insurance, in case of fire, flood, act of God."

I know it's irrational, and we'll wait for kids at the right time, if and when it comes. And I know that ultimately Alex's safety--and mine, and everyone else's--is up to God. But right now I feel like I'm clutching desperately at everyone, to keep them close.

And in the end, if that makes me reach out to my friends more often, treasure each moment with them more dearly, then I think that would make you happy. So I'll wipe my eyes--yet again--and I'll do just that.

More Memories

I keep having these memory flashes, and I want to get them down for keeps.

Saturday mornings after staying overnight at Cherie's house: frozen Red Baron pepperoni pizza, brownies we made that morning, and Dr. Pepper. I have no idea how we survived so many years on that diet, but that was the tradition. Then we'd plop down in front of the TV with something like "Hunt for Red October" that was almost impossible to see, because the movie was so dark, and because the sunshine glared through the back living room windows in the morning.

The music of our youth:

• Waking Up the Neighbours by Bryan Adams (this has been in my dashboard player for months now, retro-rockin' out)
• Top Gun soundtrack (dude: you know you love The Danger Zone)
• Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves soundtrack (Cherie's favorite movie at the time)
• Three Musketeers soundtrack
• Footloose soundtrack
• Shout soundtrack
• Amy Grant's Heart in Motion

It was because of Cherie saying how Christian Slater's line in Robin Hood POT was the only time she'd ever found the F-word funny, that I discovered both that word and what it meant. Um, not that I lent on that I had been clueless. Heh.

Cherie had a photo of a cop pointing a gun at the camera--the barrel was the only part in-focus. She absolutely loved that--at the time, she and Beth wanted to be FBI agents.

It's funny that, although I was a really vain and sensitive kid, I loved hanging out with Cherie. She was so frank--she told you exactly how it was. But when she said an outfit looked ridiculous or I was being silly, it didn't hurt like it would have with others--I valued her words because they were spoken in absolute honesty, without malice. And when she said you looked great, or--even mor importantly--that the story you wrote was incredible--you knew it was absolutely true, that there was no bias in it. Her honest opinion was a gift.

I find it hilarious and ironic that one of my favorite photos of Cherie is her cheerleading portrait. The non-conformist, non-girly, sarcastic pal of mine was a cheerleader for exactly one year. Yep, it baffled me, too.

The next-to-last time I saw Cherie, she was up in Dallas visiting her sister. She, her sister, her mom, my mom, and I all went out to Chili's and had a great gabfest--and wow, was it. I think we are about five of the talk-i-est gals I know. We left Chili's and were going to say goodbye, but ended up gabbing a long time on the steps, Cherie regaling us with her hilarious take on what the cancer and drugs were doing to her body. She made us scream with laughter as she showed off the absolute lack of a butt, and as she described how square the steroid had made her face. Although her body was distorted to the point where it made me sad to see how different she looked, she was completely herself with her dry sense of humor. After six years of hell with that disease and its nearly-as-bad cure, she had an immensely upbeat attitude.

We used to write together a lot--sometimes trading off paragraphs or sentences in short stories. We wanted to write a novel that way together called "It Was a Dark and Stormy Knight." I think we only got one or two chapters written. My favorite thing we wrote together was a story-poem (our term) called "The Tree Way Up in the Sky All Alone and Bill the Canary." It is awesome.

I am immensely sad that the only person I ever planned on writing collaboratively with is gone.

We both loved fairy tales, and my bookcases (well, okay now my many many boxes of books in storage) are filled with the fruits of our long weekends spent at used book stores. Many fairy tale rewrites, original volumes of them, reference works about them. Our favorite bookstore, which is now closed, was in San Antonio near the Shepherd's Shoppe, and was about the size of a closet with bookcases nearly to the ceiling. We thought it was about the coolest place on earth (but then, I hadn't seen Recycled Books in Denton yet). I think we must have spent half our weekends there.

The other passion we shared was movies--to be honest, Cherie got me far more into movies. My husband has her to thank for that, and for getting me even more into Star Wars than I was. (Sidebar: it's odd now that my interest in Star Wars is due to three women: my mom, Jayne, and Cherie. I didn't realize how odd that was until I got to college. And became popular with boys. Er, geeky boys.) I did not know how Boba Fett was until Cherie told me--I didn't pay attention to the names of secondary characters until college, for some reason.

We spent almost as many weekends at the theater as we did at bookstores. I remember watching so many of the movies of the '90s with her, good and bad... The Bodyguard (heh), French Kiss, While You Were Sleeping, Only You, Crimson Tide, Circle of Friends, Batman Forever (slight cringe), Batman and Robin (shudder), Johnny Neumonic (shudder), Waterworld (biggest shudder ever)... Cherie saved the poster images from the newspaper ads and had them pinned to a bulletin board in her room. The one I always remember looking at was the one for Beauty and the Beast, because it was my favorite movie and it was an awesome silhouetted image.

While sitting under the steps at Bracken Christian School (it was an awesome hideout after school), we planned out an entire Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves-themed bedroom. I remember the bunkbeds were treehouses, and the carpet was green with a curving blue section for the river... I don't remember the rest.

Cherie is the only person I've known with naturally orange hair.

I kept thinking about that first time she was at my house, with the black and white outfit, and I couldn't remember what necklace she was wearing, just that it was special. This afternoon at the service, Rynae came in wearing Cherie's hourglass necklace, which she wore every waking moment in high school--and beyond. When she ran up to Carolyn today and said "this was my Mommy's necklace" and asked her what it was, it about broke my heart.

Had dinner with my parents, Jayne & Tony, and Martha & Brandon (with their kids Zachary and Lydia). We went out to Adobe Cafe, in honor of Cherie, and at first I couldn't decide what to eat. But then I remembered that not only had Cherie ordered tortilla soup at every Mexican restaurant I've ever eaten with her at, and she ate it last August when we went to Alamo Cafe, but she's also the person who got me to try it for the first time in high school. So that's what I had, and it was very very good.

I've uploaded some photos I took when visiting Cherie last August up on Flickr.

Hey Cherie:
Yep, I wore the outfit--fittingly enough purchased at your favorite place, Kohl's--and will wear it again at the second service tomorrow. I've found a Princess Leia shirt for Rynae--it's even pink--so yes, your princess-loving kid will finally get a shirt that encourages her geek side. It's even the exact graphic of the shirt I wore three weeks ago that you liked so much. And yeah, I remember that third promise--don't you worry. It's taken care of, and I've enlisted help. And stop rolling your eyes at me from up there--I know you think we're all putting up such a fuss. I hope you got a good chuckle out of me walking through Half Price Books like a loon with tears streaming down my face--yes, I honestly didn't realize how much every single book I looked at would remind me of you. And yes, now you know exactly how the Wheel of Time Series ends--I know you finangled it out of God or RJ himself.

But I'm going to miss not seeing your reaction to the last seasons of Stargate: SG-1, and to the new Indiana Jones movie, and so many other things. I'm wearing my half of that silly black ying-yang friendship ring we bought as our RJ rings, believe it or not. I wanted so bad to send this to your email address, as if somehow it would be forwarded, to cherie.tamar@heaven.org, or something. But I didn't want your family to read this and be sad, if they cleaned out your inbox--so I'll just post it here, teary-eyed, yet smiling to myself because I know you're definitely up there shaking your head and rolling your eyes, with your own awesome smile.

Can't wait to meet you again, girl. I love you.
*Jen

Promises to Keep

Last night, my mom called to say that my good friend Cherie had finally escaped cancer. She passed away at noon yesterday.

L to R: Jayne, me, and Cherie in 1995, senior year

My emotions are kind of running a wild course at the moment, although I think I've cried harder for Cherie's family than anything else. It's particularly awful that Mother's Day is this weekend--both for Cherie's mom, and for the fact that she's leaving her six-year-old daughter and three-year-old son behind. Please, keep her whole family in your prayers.

But when my mom related the news, I was driving home from work, and instead of continuing on, I made a detour. I wasn't ready yet to face family--Alex wasn't home yet, but we're temporarily living with his parents, and loving sympathy wasn't something I was strong enough to face at the moment. I'm one of those prickly private types, especially in emotional moments.

So I drove south to Old Navy. It wasn't so much retail therapy, although it was partially a distraction--I went with a mission.

When Cherie and I were about fifteen or so, in high school, we made this pact. It was especially silly and dramatic, because that's the kid of gals we were (even more so back then, yeah). I think our favorite article of clothing at that point were our black jeans. Yeah... that was a bit of an unfortunate mid-1990's thing, and we bought it hard. I remember hanging around North Star Mall many, many weekends in those black jeans, feeling cool while probably looking like the biggest dork on the planet.

We had this theory, that if you paired a black turtleneck with black jeans, it would be the coolest outfit ever. However, in this completely irrational twist, we thought it breached some major kind of fashion faux pas, so we thought we could never actually wear this awesome outfit. (This flabbergasts me now--we prided ourselves of being non-conformists, and yet wouldn't wear something we thought was awesome? Chalk it up to the insanity of being a teenager, I guess.)

Hence the pact: whichever of us died first, no matter how old, the other would wear that outfit--black turtleneck and black jeans--to their funeral.

I have no idea if Cherie still remembered this. I've been thinking about it a lot, off and on, for that past six years that she's battled cancer. I've done a lot of praying that I'd be wearing that outfit--or she would--at the ripe of age of 103. I've thought a lot about buying the outfit, just in case, and thought that it was morbid, or superstitiously that it would bring about the end, or that it was a sensible move because it might be hard to find black jeans on short notice. In the end, I waited.

I got rid of my last black turtleneck a few years ago, and I don't think I've owned black jeans since 1997. In fact, to be honest I'm such a fashion low-lier that I had no idea if that was even an item you could find anymore, or if it had gone the way of ripped stone-wash jeans... er, but since the 1980's are back, maybe that's a bad example.

I hunted through Old Navy desperately, to no avail. They indeed had black jeans, but these are apparently--to my amazed discovery--a "winter" item. The ones left were all on sale, and in sizes 12+. Not quite a perfect fit.

I figured I'd look elsewhere, but I didn't see any other clothing stores nearby, and when I get upset like that I can't think, so I couldn't even remember where any other store was in McKinney at that point, to be honest. But I couldn't go home yet, I just needed to be alone in a crowd. Luckily, I managed to remember that there was a Half-Price Books close by.

I just went as a distraction, but it was the best thing I could have done. Yes, I found some books--but what I didn't count on was running into memories of Cherie at every turn. She was my reading and writing friend, my fellow fiction devotee, compelled not only to read it but to write crazy stories that ran away from us and turned into things we didn't expect.

I went to fantasy--well, there you are. Robert Jordan, the reason that we used to guide each other down the hall, while one was reading and walking simultaneously. (RJ passed away last year before finishing the last book--so I guess now he can tell her how it ends.) L. E. Modesitt, Robin McKinley, Patricia McKillip. Star Wars books, that's a whole other story. Since my eyes started overflowing, I quickly went to check out the clearance aisle--Clive Cussler. That really did it--Sahara, the book she loaned to me that started my obsession with Dirk Pitt. I turned to the YA section... Madeleine L'Engle (who also died last year). The only place without memories in the whole store was the comics section.

It made me overwhelmingly sad, but also wonderfully happy, remembering. It was a fitting farewell, one that I wouldn't have thought of myself. I'm glad I was there.

Then I --slightly-- came to my senses and remembered that there was a Kohl's nearby. Off again to hunt for the funeral outfit.

I was in luck: they were clearing out their winter stock. It took me two hours of hunting in every form of women's department they had, but I finally located a pair of black jeans, a black turtleneck, and a black and white bracelet.

I was rushing past jewelry on my way to the absolute last area that might have black jeans, when I saw the bracelet out of the corner of my eye. It was chunky plastic black and white beads, and I had a sudden flash of the first time Cherie ever came over to my house, freshman year of high school, 1990. She was wearing black jeans (naturally!), a white shirt, black and white dangly dice earrings, and a plastic black-and-white bracelet. She was heavily in her "black and white phase" that year, as it's now referred to. I thought that she was the Pinnacle of Cool, devoting herself to a limited palate for the sake of fashion. My mom thought it was amusing, my dad thought it was unbelieveably ridiculous. Anytime I brought up Cherie's name, for years, he'd bring up the Black and White Phase with an amused expression, as I rolled my eyes.

So, yeah, naturally I got the bracelet. It will totally go with those rad black jeans and black turtleneck, I laugh to myself, and it will remind me of the girl I met eighteen years ago. As she was--vibrant, hilarious, frank, creative--and as she remained to the end, despite the cancer consuming her body.

So I'll be keeping that promise, silly as it is. And hot as it's destined to be, in Texas in May, in long sleeves and black. Because yes, it's silly--but that's the kid of gals we are. That's how I loved her, and that's how I'm seeing her off.

(And thanks for the line, Robert Frost.)

We've Got Two New Nephews!

...Don't know names yet, but the twins each weighed in around 5 1/2 pounds today. That makes for a grand total of five nephews for us--the Hoffman genes run strong to the male tendency, apparently. ;)

Alex is in Vegas for a work trip through Thursday, so I'm trying to be good and get homework done while he's gone. And am crossing my fingers about our current contract on the house during this 10-day options period.

Had a blast last night finally hanging out with my old pal Amy and her man Jaime. Had quite a nice chat--I miss how we all used to hang out once a week--but alas, my schedule won't allow that for awhile. Was good to see the ol' Amos Moses and remember the old times while dishing about the new times. And dude, she hooked me up with some pants--I do love me some hand-me-downs, cheap gal that I am.

Also, I am wearing AWESOME shoes. That is all.

The Falcon Has Landed

(Er... the falcon being Alex.)

He called at 4:30 am to let me know he was in Paris, and I just got off the phone with him--he's in Helsinki!! It's odd how he seems closer now, over the phone, than he did when I dropped him off at DFW airport, when he was still in town for two hours. The beauty of cell phones and global communication, eh? And my husband is now officially an American Airlines Advantage Platinum member, and he's terribly pleased with himself making it to that point before I did. Hmph.

Monday morning is proving to be much more fun than yesterday afternoon--lack of sleep and coffee are much more my normal routine, I guess. I did complete my homework last night, but not all my work-work, so I got to work a bit early to start on that before my meetings begin. And a huge thanks to Tihleigh, who chatted me up last night until I was cheery, as well as let me know that I wasn't pathetic for feeling sad. And another huge thanks to Gayla, who is graciously hosting me tonight and tomorrow, so that I don't waste time and gas commuting home for no reason (particularly since I work until 9pm both tonight and tomorrow). I'll be back in McKinney Wednesday to catch up on mail and housework, since I will end work at a much more normal time.

And I'm wearing a new Audrey Hepburn shirt today--who can't help but feel a little glamorous when wearing such a gal on your shirt, I ask you?

Weekend O' Fun

It's hard to describe how awesome it was, but I'll try. (I should have allllll the photos up on Flickr at some point this coming weekend.)

Jared drove in from Abilene Friday night, and for once we all went immediately to bed. This is how you can tell how important Star Wars is to us--we all went to bed shortly after midnight on a Friday, voluntarily!

We got up early-ish Saturday and picked up Claire, another friend who just happens to be my GovDocs student assistant, at her home. We all sang along--loudly, if not well--to oldies, thanks to the glories of the Siruis Satellite radio in my Awesome New Ride. (Which, btw, I've named Dreamsicle. It doesn't fit in with my previous car-naming scheme, but sometimes things find their own names, y'know?)

We arrived in Ft. Worth at the Museum of Science and History for their Star Wars exhibit... only to find that the adjacent Will Rodgers Auditorium was hosting a gun show the same day. No parking. Less than no parking. We ended up parking on the grass, crossing our fingers that we wouldn't get a ticket.

Inside, we found... a huge, long line. Because, really, that's what Star Wars geekery is all about. Fans may tell you it's about the imagination or the effects or the really hilariously bad dialog--but when you come down to it, Star Wars is about two things: merchandising, and lines.

Luckily, though, the line moved quickly, and soon we were near the front, where we discovered that the "Special Effects" move at the IMAX was already sold out--primarily because "Harry Potter" had been contracted for four time slots that day, and there weren't enough seats to go around. We groused about it, quickly recovered, got our tickets, and made our way to the exhibit--but we had fifteen minutes before they opened it to our time-slot.

We wandered through an exhibit of the last hundred years or so of the museum's artifacts. Some were neat, some were silly, and some were just plain disturbing. Like the huge display of odd-things-preserved-in-jars. Or the bureau that had a drawer full of neatly-lined-up rodents (aka, my mother-in-law's worst nightmare, neatly encased in the same kind of place that she keeps her socks). We all made appropriately-grossed-out noises and took photos to prove just how inhumane, disgusting, and creepy it all was. I was nostalgically thrilled to see they had a case of phosphorescent rocks with a lightswitch, so you can view them in the dark (well, under blacklight) or the light. When I was five years old, a similar phosphorescent rock exhibit was my favorite thing in the entire San Diego Museum of Natural History. I mean, even more than dino bones, and that says something. (It says something about how extremely nerdy I was as a kid.)

Then, it was the magical time to enter the Star Wars exhibit. It was, all told, a really nice exhibit. It was so gorgeously lit that I hardly used my flash, which made for a few blurry photos, but the atmosphere was worth it. The exhibit blended current/upcoming technologies with the Star Wars equivalents that "inspired" them. They were very hands-on (and therefore fun): build your own levitating Lego car, build/program your own R2-like droid, and this fantastic RTS-like (real-time-strategy game, for those of you who don't Speak Geek--think of Age of Empires) interface. The RTS-like thing had an optical sensor that recognized patterns on cards that you laid out in a table, which represented portions of a city (sanitation unit, water plant, housing, eatery, etc.), which you then laid out to make the citizens "happier" in areas like social, health, etc.

The Star Wars paraphenalia was incredible. There were lots of original costumes, props, and--most fantastic of all--the original models of the vehicles. For all intents and purposes, the "real" Star Destroyer, X-Wing, Millennium Falcon. All four of us had this mouths-open, eyes-wide kind of moment when we saw them. They are simply huge, and so detailed, and... just wow. If you're a Star Wars geek, then you went to this exhibit and therefore you understand. If you're not a Star Wars geek, you wouldn't understand anyway, so I won't bother describing it.

Hours later, we finally pulled ourselves out of the exhibit--and then another hour later, pulled ourselves out of the gift shop. (Remember that second facet of Star Wars culture I mentioned--merchandising?) Alex and I managed to come out only one t-shirt, one bib, and one onesie poorer, which is a tad bit of a miracle (I was sorely tempted by the entire "Infinities" trilogy of comics, though--that is sooo on my wishlist).

We drove back and grabbed some Taco Bell, being starved after all that geeking about. We stopped in downtown McKinney, where we'd planned to attend the Killis Melton Ice Cream Crank-Off... but sadly, they'd already ran out of ice cream and were shutting down. No jalapeno ice cream for us.

Claire and I headed off to Walmart to procure some more traditional ice cream, and other snacky foods to sustain us through the planned Firefly marathon. We all made it through half of the season, but by the end of "Jaynestown" sometime after midnight we had to crash. Claire, the Firefly newbie, was just as enthralled as I'd hoped she would be--the first thing she said after the pilot episode was "Next!" --always a good sign. Then on Monday at work, she informed me she'd already ordered the DVD and soundtrack on Amazon--another browncoat recruited!

And thus was our grand weekend. Rather less ice cream was consumed than was planned, but all in all it was a tremendously geeky good time.

How Did It Get to Be August?

Wednesday, I got a happy little letter detailing my promotion and raise next month--w00t! Alex and I celebrated at a great Greek place in Plano, Zorba's, with our pals Josh and Stacey, then played Hearts at their place. I cheerfully lost, having completely combined Hearts, Spades, and Pinochle together in my brain for all time.

This weekend, we drove done to ol' San Antone to visit my parents. We had a grand time--Mom and I lost to Alex and Dad at Canasta (quite shamefully, too). We enjoyed key lime pie, some fantastic pecan praline ice cream, and the best brisket I've ever had, hands-down (thanks to Buck & Ozie's Last Chance). We exchanged gifts for my birthday, my dad's birthday, and Father's Day, then watched the end of "Gladiator" and the beginning of "Amistad."

Mom and I had a really great visit with my pal Cherie, who I went to high school with and then roomed with my first year at HSU. She is currently in her fourth battle with cancer in the past five years. She's recently been put on steroids, so she looked great and felt much better, but it always blows my mind to realize that Cherie, of all people, has been chronically ill for so long. She was the sarcastic, sardonic one in high school and here she is with a husband, two kids, and an incredible strength and optimism in the midst of a long illness.

Mom took us both to the Alamo Cafe for lunch, a longtime favorite of us all. We had fantastic food and a lot of laughing--sometimes it's hard to believe the things we did in high school. We reminisced about how Saturdays at Cherie's house, she and I would always eat frozen pizza (Tony's, I think), Dr. Pepper, and make brownies. Every single time. And we wrote a story together with the most fantastic title ever, by passing the paper back and forth line by line. And despite the fact that we've been reading Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series since our junior year, thirteen years ago, he still hasn't published the last book.

I also got to visit with Cherie's family for the first time in years. Isn't there some song about how everything changes, but everything's the same? Yeah, it was that.

As usual, I have many many photos of the weekend, and yet no time to upload them. Ah well, watch my flickr account periodically and you'll find them in time.

The Bryce Has Landed

(Well, that's what we'll be saying in 6 hours, anyway.)
Yes, people, it's getting to be that time--time for the semi-annual HSU alum fireworks extravaganza at the Hoffman place!

DC Day Three

ALA is intense. Or perhaps it's just all that walking, combined with the 15 lbs of laptop/backpack I'm lugging around that makes it seem that way. Every time I get back to the Tabard Inn, I just crash with exhaustion.

I'm not going to be at the Facebook party that starts in fifteen minutes--even if I wasn't dead-tired, I have a GODORT thing to interview for at 8:15am tomorrow. Isn't that a spectacularly cruel time to schedule an interview?

So, this morning, I awoke with great hopes of trying a different breakfast at the Tabard--maybe bagels this time, or granola with homemade yogurt. Only--they serve breakfast at 7am on weekdays... and 8am on weekends. I only had time to frown with sadness, then rushed off to my first session, ERT's Digital Natives. The presentation wasn't really anything I hadn't heard already, but there was an interesting, lively discussion afterward, and the room was jam-packed with people. (The link above also provides some notes taken on the discussion, if you're interested.)

Dreanna Belden from UNT went with me to that, so we then got some much-needed coffee and a delish cranberry-orange muffin from the obligatory 'Bucks kiosk, and sat down for some good chat about life, the universe, and everything.

Then I had to run off to the GODORT Update at the Renaissance Washington, where I pulled up a chair and my laptop to Julie Linden's corner (near an outlet, thank goodness). I briefly got to chat with Kris Kasianovitz, who I met in Oakland through NDIIPP, and then met Amy Stewart-Mailhiot F2F for the first time--she's been generously donating some govdocs for some digitization projects of ours.

I met Dreanna in the hotel lobby, and we wandered off to Chinatown, eventually settling on the "Wok and Roll" where Dreanna had some gorgeous-looking sushi, and I settled for an uncharacteristically less-adventurous beef lo mein. I took some fun, colorful photos as we left Chinatown, and we got the giggles as we passed a tableaux at Hooter's. Four orange-clad buxom gals were outside, taunting a slightly-inebriated male librarian with, "Well, we never went to library school." He was amazed that they knew he was a librarian--until they pointed out that he was still wearing his enormous ALA badge. Sigh.

I went back to the Renaissance for GODORT Leg. II. It's not that I'm a glutton for attending meetings for committees I'm not on, but they were discussing a response to the recent CRS report legislation being considered, and of course that's particularly relevant to my work archiving those reports. It was an interesting meeting, and I learned that editing resolutions isn't nearly as boring as it sounds--or else that's the old English major in me, but I found it fascinating.

And afterward, I wandered in the general direction of the LITA Meet n' Greet, but along the way... I met Meredith Farkas in-person! (And sorry, but you'll have to read that link for the story.)

The LITA Meet n' Greet was... well, not as lively as I was hoping. I was mildly interested in the interest groups on Digital Library Technologies and Distance Learning... but if I become more involved in GODORT like I hope to and only increase my courseload in the future... I don't need one more committment. Unless I find a compelling reason, I probably won't renew my LITA membership next year--I can read their articles, blog, and attend their sessions without being a member, after all.

Coming out of the hotel, I ran into Valerie, Kevin, and Brooke--whom I met for the first time, having of course heard glowing things from Val. Which all turned out to be completely true, as Val went back to her hotel to write a CRS letter for Leg., and Brooke and I whisked through the Exhibits Hall for an hour. During which, I witnessed an amazing performance of female flirting that on her the coveted, swag-filled and quality-stitched Oxford UP tote bag. Clever girl, that.

We parted at 7th and L, and I headed once again toward the Metro and the Tabard. I lugged my technological burden upstairs, changed out of professional and sweaty clothing, and briefly hopped out again to traipse up and down the block with the Digi-Lab camera, capturing the gorgeous architecture.

I came back to have some more of the Tabard's lite fare--this time a mozarella-and-roast-pepper salad that really was lite, but had enough protein to keep me going. I dragged myself back upstairs at the ridiculous-for-one-under-30 hour of 6:45, and promptly spent a few hours in blissfully decadent, useless novel-reading and a half hour nap (finished Deboarh Crombie's Dreaming of the Bones). Suzanne Sears called and we arranged to share a cab tomorrow to Cathy's party, and then we sent awhile chatting and giggling.

I called Alex, but he and Jared were watching "Invincible," so I started being productive, and then chatted with him when he called back awhile later. He and Jared watched the last SG-1 today--completely with my full knowledge and permission before-hand--and said there's a possible second spin-off series in the works, as well as some TV movies. Well, there's hope, then! And, of course, I only let Alex watch the episodes without me under the strict understanding that he has to watch them with me Tuesday night, as well.

And now I'm here, having fully intended to go to bed an hour ago, but being sucked into that novel and my blog/wiki/flickr/Facebook ate up several hours of my life. Ah, well. Thus is the life of a digital semi-native.

Now, I think I'll spend a little more time ignoring my headache, uploading some photos, and looking at the GODORT website in preparation for tomorrow morning. And then to bed, to bed.

Near-Perfect Weekend

This weekend was a great blend of getting things accomplished and finding time to relax--Alex and I both had the best at-home weekend we've enjoyed in ages. The only thing that was lacking to finish off the summery-goodness would have been dining on grilled steaks (but I've got two marinading in the fridge for tonight).

Saturday, our plans went awry in the morning. I had grand plans to make blueberry pancakes from scratch, having recently been inspired by a great episode of Good Eats, but trying to cook them on my skillet for the umpteenth time resulted in disaster. That took up so much time I didn't have time for my scheduled run, and we had to hurry out the door to make an appointment. But after that, things started looking up.

We were all dressed in our "grubby" clothes to get some work done in the building, when rain and hail struck with immediacy and force. We were a bit frustrated that our good intentions were ruined, but it turned out to be a pleasant, relaxing afternoon of doing very little. Joel and Kali called to ask if we'd like to come over that evening, and when the rain stopped, we went out to run a few errands.

Having determined that my pancake efforts were unsuccessful due to not possessing the right tools, we trekked to Bed, Bath and Beyond. We bought a stovetop griddle, a mixing bowl that doesn't hurt my hand, two new (and therefore un-melted) spatulas, a ladle with measurements marked on the inside, and a set of grilling implements for Alex.

Our purchases done, we headed over to Joel and Kali's and met their six-week-old son, who is cute as a button and a very merry lad. Kali made some fantastic cake-cookies, we all had a good long chat, and then Joel helped us break in our Mario Party 8 on his Wii (short review--fantastic game with many different kinds of gameplay, which makes it a good buy compared to other games). Alex and I groggily drove home at 11:30, feeling like it was 3am for some reason.

Sunday, I got up and remedied the lack of running the previous day, and had a chat with Amy A. Having the proper tools for the pancakes was marvelous, and they were full of fluffy goodness. Then we quickly got to work on what we'd missed the day before, and got a lot of things taken from the building and returned to Home Depot. Alex mowed the lawn while I washed dishes, we watched the last episode of Dancing with the Stars (Hooray, Apolo!!), and we went to bed early.

Quick Media Diet Update:

• Catch and Release: the main story was fine, but the real reason to watch this movie is the hilarity of secondary-character Kevin Smith. Man, he is hilarious in anything.
• And I know we watched some awesome movie in the past two weeks that we actually talked about buying... can't for the life of me remember what it was. Hmph; will post later. Ah-ha! It was Bruce Almighty, which we hadn't watched when it came out because we naturally assumed Hollywood would slant a story about God to be blasphemous, crass, or just plain stupid. Instead, we were not only entertained but impressed, and several times paused the movie, looked at each other, and asked if this really was a Hollywood production starring Jim Carey.
  
• Regarding the Stardust TV spot, which I saw last night, I totally had the same reaction that Neil Gaiman did--"I mean, I appreciate that Charlie Cox isn't famous, but he is the hero and the person who the film is about and the person who's on screen all the time."

Unrelated Banter

• I feel you, Gene & Bill--I feel you.
• The Alabama State Senate sounds lively!

So, About That Trip...

We're back.
It was fantastic.
I'll finish uploading photos and typing up the hard-copy blog entries... soon-ish.

A HUGE THANKS goes out from Alex and me to the Phillips clan for sharing their home, their Bay Area cuisine, their vehicle/gas, and their company with us this week. We had a splendid time and appreciate what fantastically gracious hosts they are.

And dude, Chris--thanks for hooking me up with the Adobe Illustrator tips! I'm dazzled by your genius!

Unrelated Banter:
Wildly Unconfirmed Rumor: Neil Gaiman set to direct Death: the High Cost of Living!!!

Foto Fun

Thanks to a colleague's gracious sponsorship of my Flickr Pro Account, I've been uploading past photos like mad. Enjoy these tidbits:

New Year's Party 01/07	FDLP in Denver 04/07
HSU BYA Grad Event 05/07	Random Wii Photos
Riverwalk Thanksgiving 11/06	TLA in San Antonio 04/07

And if you putter around long enough on my Flickr page, you'll find more Star Wars photos, library photos, wedding photos, family photos, land photos--and of course plenty of ridiculous photos I've taken of myself (eventually, these will join them). Just because.

Rain, Rain, Go Away (Oh, it did!)

Yesterday morning as I got into the truck, our local NPR host was saying there was a 60% chance of rain. I quickly weighed going back inside for an umbrella, but thought that I'd take my chances with just my "Library Raid" jacket.

And, well, you saw the photo.

So I left the library at about 9:15pm. According to my student assistant's account, and the fact that the library fountain had drained a bit, the weather must have died down considerably. Which is frightening, given my experience.

I walked out of the library doors and turned directly into the face of the wind. The driving rain and wind was so gusty that it was hard to walk forward, and my poor new leather sneakers were submerged in a number of puddles/lakes as I made my way toward the parking lot.

Several times I almost fell over just from the force of the wind, so when I got to my truck, I kind of hurled my body inside. I sat there panting, assessing the damage. My jacket was soaked, so I peeled it off. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the side-effect of the driving force of the rain was that the back side of my body was completely dry. In stark contrast to my soaked front. Also my feet were bone-dry--I may have soaked my new shoes, but in doing so proved that Sketchers leather sneakers are about the most waterproof shoe short of galoshes. (And galoshes don't match my wardrobe.)

And then I discovered that the force of the rain had driven my right contact up behind my eyelid.

Leave aside for the moment that 1) this always grosses me out and 2) it's painful; my primary concern was that 3) I couldn't drive home with my dominant eye unaided. I sat. I blinked. I rolled my eye around while looking in the mirror. I prodded my eye with my finger.

Finally, I made the extremely foolhardy decision to start up the truck and see what happened. I backed up, and put the truck into drive--and the contact fell into place. There was some "oh praise GOD" uttered at that point, and I drove home.

The way home involved a lot of rain, blinding lightning, thunder peals that cut out my radio station momentarily, and all the other things that happen when a storm travels the same direction as you. I got home to find Alex holding the door open and warming the oven for chicken nuggets.

And my shoes are fine now, miraculously. Sketchers done good!

My thanks to Tihleigh for her phone message offering a place of refuge in Denton. Had I realized how bad it was earlier, I may have taken you up on that offer.

Random Pix

Krystal, Jaime, and I.
(Ah, we were young once. In 1999).

Coffee Break
(Jaime and I this past weekend, one day before her wedding.)

Wii're Excited!
(Alex and I in December, right after I surprised him with it.)

That first photo from HSU reminds me... we'll be in good ol' Abilene next week from Thursday through Sunday (March 29 - April Fool's Day). Any Abilene-ites who want to hook up are welcome to email or call to get together. We'll be hosted once again by the Grand Admiral himself, Jared.

Austin-tacious Weekend

Wow. What a whirlwind!

There are hundreds of photos on our SD cards, and I can only access the ones on the 512 mb one currently (the 2 gb one doesn't like the laptop). So I haven't seen actual wedding photos yet, just bridemaid stuff, rehearsal dinner, and wedding set-up.

Alex and I drove down on Friday for Jaime & Todd's wedding. We stopped and ate at Chipotle first, to foist off both traffic and hunger. We got to Jaime's place later that night and had a blast hanging out with J, T, and meeting more of the wedding party--particularly the amazingly-talented Amanda and the hilarious Jon. Then while they all went out to have fun, we acted like the Old Marrieds we are and crashed on Jaime's rather-nice air mattress.

We decided the next morning that, in our defense, we had not only completed a long drive, but each had had particularly long, rough weeks at work. If we're deluding ourselves, just don't tell me.

Jaime and Amanda treated us to delicious breakfast in the morning, and us gals met John at milk + honey for some spa indulgence. As I still have the artist's misfortunate of short, fragile fingernails, I forewent a mani/pedi and opted to document the process on film instead. Then I walked a block south and met my parents, who were randomly in Austin at the same time for an art show. (Actually, Dad snuck up on me while I was calling his cell trying to find him, which in retrospect was pretty funny.)

My parentals took me to meet Alex at a local gun show, and then we did lunch together at Chuy's, where I had a veggie enchilada (quite good!). It was fun to briefly visit with them.

Then Alex and I jetted north to Cedar Park to hang out with his sister and our nephew for the afternoon. There was fun chatting and tickling. I left my purse there, we went back to get it, and then I promptly left my keys the second time. Sigh.

The rehearsal was fun--if difficult to locate--and the dinner was amazing Thai food. A-maze-ing. Tihleigh, I salute your people (no, I'm not dyeing my hair black or anything). And we got HUGE boxes of leftovers to take with us--so we brought our big ol' box to our pal Jenny's apartment. We got in while she was out--we promptly admired her Ikea decorating dynamic, laughed at her sticky notes everywhere in the apt., and fell into a deep slumber on her rather wonderful sleeper couch.

In the morning, we enjoyed Starbucks and church with Jenny, and then spent some fun hang-out time at her place while scarfing down some of the Thai leftovers. I love me some peanut sauce, let me tell you.

Then it was off to the wedding venue--which was gooooorgeous! We hung lights, inserted chicken-beer-can holders into paper lanterns (to hold votive candles, doncha know), and moved around tables until it was time to hustle into fancy garb. Jaime was luminous, Todd didn't cry, and we all had a great time--and no one spilled any Eucharistic wine.

We got to see some pals at the reception--Seth & Lisa, Pranaya, Ryan, Velma & Andy--and enjoyed cheesecake that melted like butter in our mouths. There was still more amazing food, some ridiculously good reddish champagne, and a coffee bar. Alex and I even did a little dancing while waiting on our coffee.

Then there were hugs and farewells, as we skedaddled out to make our way home for a little rest before Alex's work in the morning. On the way, we picked up my keys at Amy's, got turned around near 183, and were rescued by directions over the phone from Alex's mom. We got home at 2, fell into bed... and I promptly awoke at 4 to discover that the amazing food hadn't sat too well with me.

And thus, I've spent the day in or near bed being a little sick and nonproductive, instead of doing my taxes over Spring Break.

We got to see both sides of our family, and all kinds of friends--all in all, it was a packed and amazing weekend. I would love to experience more like that.

As Promised, Geekery

And here's the link to the photos I took at Timothy Zahn's Borders book-signing on 02.07.2007.

So, I never actually wrote about the experience, being as I was busy with a sick Alex, and then busy being sick myself. So here goes.

I walk into Borders a little after 6pm, and immediately upon entering, spot him. Yes, that's Timothy Zahn himself, working at his laptop in the Borders cafe, nobody around to bother him yet. I pause for about thirty seconds, during which he briefly glances up, and no doubt absorbs the goofy "I see a Celebrity of Ultimate Geek" expression on my face. He looks down and wisely pretends not to have seen me. I pull myself together firmly, remind myself that I have been in the same room with this man before, and by golly, I'm not here to make his life a more frustrating experience, and walk off to find a manager or fellow DFWfanforce member.

I find Denise, who's organizing the event, and she shows me where to put my things in the back room--upon which I geek-out again, abeit slightly less so than over Zahn. It's a back room... in a bookstore. Oh, heaven! Then I run out to the bathroom to change into my Pink 7 gear, and come back to find the 501st changing into their armor. Along the way, I run into Helen, one of my fanforce pals from The Line (aka the Bellydancer). Denise gets us to slap stickers on people's books that they brought from home (like my copy of Heir to the Empire). We feel geeky and important.

Jeff, Brandon, and Jonathan from DFWfanforce show up a bit later, and we briefly catch up before I run off to the back room again. Zahn's lining up all the costumed of us to escort him in--I'm placed behind the stormtroopers and in front of Anakin and Vader, who flank Zahn. We all march out to the podium and table that's been set up for him, and all we costumed geeklings form in a V-pattern behind him, like a very, very confused flock of migratory birds.

Zahn talks awhile about what it's been like to write Star Wars EU, then gives a long Q/A session. The length is pretty awesome to listen to, as a fan--but as a gal in a hot costume in a really well-heated Borders, I nearly pass out. Literally--vision starts going and everything. I have to back out of line and sit with my head down while Helen gets me some water--darn that heavy, hot helmet!

I had to leave not to long after that, when the real signing began, and left my books under Helen's protection. I ran by Walmart to get some supplies for the flu-beleagured Alex, and then spent the rest of the evening watching movies with him.

The Wii-kend

Saturday was Alex's birthday, which we celebrated in grand style... by staying home and enjoying movies, our Wii, and the warmth of various blankets. I attempted to cook my mom's famous Mexican rice on Friday night as a special dinner, but it was remarkably lackluster. Saturday morning, I gifted Alex with several small things, and then surprised him with Wario Ware: Smooth Moves for the Wii. We proceeded to enjoy the game, which is a compilation of 200 breakneck speed microgames (most are 5 seconds long), which were hilarious and psychotic to the extent that it made Rayman: Raving Rabbids look like a very normal game. A big bonus with Wario Ware is that there are four multiplayer modes, but it only uses one Wii remote, so you don't have to spend a lot of money to get a killer party game (plus I think it supports up to 12 players).

Saturday night, we went out to dinner at Ghengis Grill (yummy!) with Alex's parents and--as a surprise--my parents, who stayed the night and left Sunday afternoon. Afterward, they all came to our place--Alex's parents hadn't seen the Mii versions of themselves yet, and Alex's mom had a lot of fun trying out baseball on Wii Sports. Dad stayed up late with us trying various Rayman minigames (he got a kick out of "Bunnies Don't Know What to do With Cows").

Let's see... here are a bunch of other updates from last week in general:

• The film Brick was really, really great--but if you rent it, be aware that you're going to make good use of the subtitle feature. Lightning-fast, unusual, and mumbled dialogue abounds throughout.
• I fiiiinally got volumes 3 and 4 of Bill Willingham's Fables. Now I can read through my collection (got through volume 8 and the short-story collection, and am eagerly awaiting the Jack of Fables vol. 1 next month).
  
• I got to the second boss in Link to the Past, but my battery ran down after I was killed once, so I need to find my recharge plug.
• Auntie K's out of state today on an interview, and I send my prayers for her safety and confidence.
• I've been reading my bibliography textbook for my Rare Books course, and so far it's all about movable type and the printing process, which I find fascinating. It's talking about the birth of document formatting, such as justification--which is yet another tidbit through which I reveal my intense nerdiness.

Small Pleasures

Does it get better in the morning than creamy, hot coffee and a homemade snickerdoodle?

My thanks to Auntie K for sponsoring this morning’s slightly nutritional breakfast.