- Favorites movies: No Country for Old Men; Once; Darjeeling Limited; Lars and the Real Girl (I hope to add Atonement, There Will Be Blood, and Juno to this list before the year is out.)
- Overrated movies: Ratatouille; Knocked Up
- Favorite music: Brandi Carlile; Patty Griffin; Hem; Wincing the Night Away by The Shins; Ryan Adams's single "Two"
- Best summer song: "Say it Right," Nelly Furtado
- Favorite TV: 30 Rock; Six Feet Under (which I watched on Bravo; best series finale I've ever seen); So You Think You Can Dance?; Project Runway; Lost (I thought I was out, but the season finale sucked me back in)
- Favorite learning experience: The "Cityscapes" course I took through the UT Odyssey program--I learned about the history of city planning and development for London, Paris, NYC, New Orleans, and Mexcio City. One of the most interesting classes I've ever taken.
- Favorite books: The Last Samurai (Helen DeWitt); Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (the ending sucked, but the writing was very strong and consistent; it was a fitting final book for the series); The Yiddish Policemen's Union (Michael Chabon); The Painted Drum (Louise Erdrich); The Road (Cormac McCarthy); What is the What? (Dave Eggers); Black Swan Green (David Mitchell); Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln's Killer (James L. Swanson)
- Giant-disappointment books: Thirteen Moons (Charles Frazier); The Far Country (Daniel Mason); Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Marisha Pessl); The Historian (Elizabeth Kostova--the first 2/3 is brilliant; the last 1/3 is a huge let-down); Absurdistan (Gary Shteyngart)
- Best new friend: Aaron, my dear internet friend and fellow writing enthusiast. He got me writing again (however briefly), and I got to read his amazing work. This fella is the greatest.
- Person I would like to punch in the face: Anne Coulter
- Most overhyped thing: Election coverage; media hyping gas prices; Judd Apatow movies
- Most underrated thing: Volunteering (though this could also be filed under "Most frustrating" and also maybe "Most hilarious" and "Most likely to cause a run-in with large birds")
- Things that kept going that you wish would have died/ended: The war in Iraq; Bush's presidency; people who sound like Toby Keith; those gross nail fungus and mucus commercials
- Something new you added to your life this year: Boyfriend; this blog; dramatic highlights
- Travel: Nashville; Memphis (where I overheard a woman, holding a two-year-old boy, tell her other son, who was horsing around while they wait for the street car, “Eric, I’m going to beat you with your brother if you don’t stop right now.”); California x 3; San Antonio
- Best worst dating moment(s): After last year's hilarious misunderstanding with the local FOX weatherman (I really missed out on those double-breasted suits and pleated pants), I was ready for this year to be just as ridiculous. It started out promising...with the guy who thought it was OK to order and start eating before I even got to the restaurant; the guy who wore shorts to our museum date (come on: throw on some long pants!); the guy without a discernible sense of humor but with a roommate who strips at the Yellow Rose; the guy who works the graveyard shift at 7-Eleven; the guy whose "job" is shopping at pawn shops and re-selling the goods on eBay; and the myriad other morons who didn't even get their foot in the door. And then something odd happened: I met Chris, and the whole thing made sense.
- Biggest disappointment: Realizing that bad things will happen to good people and the only thing you can do is listen and support. It's a pretty helpless feeling. Also: Jamie-Lynn Spears getting pregnant; I find that seriously depressing.
- Most foolhardy thing I did: I threw my keys into the dumpster, locking myself out of the house. I had to climb in--all the way in--to get them. Also: see Best worst dating moments above.
- Something missing from 2007: I usually head to North Carolina in the fall, but didn't make it this year. Also never made it for our annual jaunt out to Krausse Springs.
- Any regrets?: That I let myself quit writing (again) once I had started back up. And that I haven't found a new home for George Michael yet.
- A realistic goal for 2008: More cooking at home instead of a lifestyle of Lean Cuisines. And install a new medicine cabinet.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Best of 2007: Year in Review
It seems like just yesterday we were all hunkered down for Y2K, doesn't it? And yet we are on the eve of 2008. And you know what that means: a year-end list. I live for year-end lists. So here goes. (Keep in mind, of course, that this is completely subjective, and that it likely includes things that came out in 2006 but that I didn't get to until 2007.)
Friday, December 14, 2007
A very important rule.
Everyone should know how to properly pluralize their own last name. This also includes plural possessives. Nothing irks me more than seeing something like Merry Christmas from the Smith's.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Cat for sale. And by "sale" I mean "free."
Sadly, it's time for me and GM to part company. Here's what I'd like to see for him, and I won't let him go until something very comparable is available:
A farm or lots of space, where he can be an outside cat. I believe he would make a great barn cat, catching critters and whatnot. No kids or elderly; I don't think that would be a good idea for anyone involved. He would not make a good Christmas gift. He's what you might call "aggressive."
But he comes with accessories! You can have all of his stuff: litter box, litter, food, toys, bed. He's fixed and has had his shots.
If you know anyone looking for a pet without high-maintenance requirements like affection or petting, I think I might have the cat for them. Surely there is someone out there who wants an independent pet like GM. I just can't deal with him anymore, and I can't let him outside because of a busy street nearby.
Ayudame, por favor.
A farm or lots of space, where he can be an outside cat. I believe he would make a great barn cat, catching critters and whatnot. No kids or elderly; I don't think that would be a good idea for anyone involved. He would not make a good Christmas gift. He's what you might call "aggressive."
But he comes with accessories! You can have all of his stuff: litter box, litter, food, toys, bed. He's fixed and has had his shots.
If you know anyone looking for a pet without high-maintenance requirements like affection or petting, I think I might have the cat for them. Surely there is someone out there who wants an independent pet like GM. I just can't deal with him anymore, and I can't let him outside because of a busy street nearby.
Ayudame, por favor.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Fear and trembling.
Last Sunday I took my Little Sis to Lady Bird Lake (née Town Lake) to feed the ducks. We went to the little pier near Deep Eddy, where there are assorted ducks usually lounging around. So there were ducks, and also two black swans (which reminds me: Black Swan Green by David Mitchell is one of my favorite books of 2007...but more on that another day) and two large geese.
I believe my fear of large birds is well documented (and well founded; see American Funniest Home Videos), so suffice it to say that I was uncomfortable. But I did not betray this to my Little Sis, because she gets panicky around cats--specifically George Michael, but that, too, is well founded--and I didn't know how she'd handle a bird freak-out by me.
So we fed the ducks, and they kept their distance, and all was well until a man showed up with a bag of bread and popcorn, and he called to the geese. Who apparently know his voice because they scuttled up the bank right to him. He told us that he feeds them everyday, which I find gross because I find large birds gross. Then he left to take a swim because here in Texas, December means 82 degrees on any given Sunday.
But he had created a problem. The two geese were now above us, blocking our exit and honking in an irritated manner. Like they were fixing to nip at someone and I looked like as good a candidate as any (or as Homer Simpson once said of Santa's Little Helper, "He's looking right at me because he knows I'll be the juiciest!").
I started a low-grade panic. I knew that I was going to have to essentially offer myself up to these maniacal geese so that my Little Sis didn't get eaten. (Though my true impulse was to use her as a shield, as I once did with my niece Emily when she was a toddler and we were being advanced upon by a gaggle of surly geese and ducks.)
The swans started honking and stretching their necks onto the pier. We were surrounded, and it was time to go. The geese stood like statues guarding the top of the stairs. As we neared them, I casually suggested that we give them a wide berth.
And then nothing happened.* They left us alone, and I did not have to live my worst fear of being chased down by a goose and pecked at. Not that day, anyway.
*It's a smidge anticlimactic.
I believe my fear of large birds is well documented (and well founded; see American Funniest Home Videos), so suffice it to say that I was uncomfortable. But I did not betray this to my Little Sis, because she gets panicky around cats--specifically George Michael, but that, too, is well founded--and I didn't know how she'd handle a bird freak-out by me.
So we fed the ducks, and they kept their distance, and all was well until a man showed up with a bag of bread and popcorn, and he called to the geese. Who apparently know his voice because they scuttled up the bank right to him. He told us that he feeds them everyday, which I find gross because I find large birds gross. Then he left to take a swim because here in Texas, December means 82 degrees on any given Sunday.
But he had created a problem. The two geese were now above us, blocking our exit and honking in an irritated manner. Like they were fixing to nip at someone and I looked like as good a candidate as any (or as Homer Simpson once said of Santa's Little Helper, "He's looking right at me because he knows I'll be the juiciest!").
I started a low-grade panic. I knew that I was going to have to essentially offer myself up to these maniacal geese so that my Little Sis didn't get eaten. (Though my true impulse was to use her as a shield, as I once did with my niece Emily when she was a toddler and we were being advanced upon by a gaggle of surly geese and ducks.)
The swans started honking and stretching their necks onto the pier. We were surrounded, and it was time to go. The geese stood like statues guarding the top of the stairs. As we neared them, I casually suggested that we give them a wide berth.
And then nothing happened.* They left us alone, and I did not have to live my worst fear of being chased down by a goose and pecked at. Not that day, anyway.
*It's a smidge anticlimactic.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
All right, all right. I missed you, too.
I never know when to use the comma with "too." But it seems like I should. Know, that is.
Anyhoo.
Ok, I'm going to get better about this. Here I am, a young lady of 31 who has been writing in some sort of diary--online or otherwise--since I was in high school. But sometimes it feels strangely liberating not to write stuff down, like I'm breaking a rule and I know better but it kinda feels good anyway. But the rest of the time it feels lazy and like I haven't digested anything because I've not committed it to the internet for any random stranger to read.
So what does Oprah do when she wants to reward her loyal audience? She secretly invites them to her Favorite Things taping. And the people shit their pants. Well, guess what? You're [not] get[ting] a car! And you're [not] get[ting] a car! And you're [not] get[ting] a car! It's Cambria's Favorite Things [Lately] episode!
Cheesecake
Only because it 's deceptively simple to make, and as long as you cover the cracks on the top with chocolate ganache (and you know I did), people will hoist you onto their shoulders and boyfriend's parents will hug you approvingly. I made a raspberry cheesecake with Oreo crust and the above-mentioned chocolate ganache for Thanksgiving, which I spent with Chris's family at his sister's house. They loved it, and they loved me. Perhaps there is a causal relationship there, perhaps not.
Massages
I finally used my birthday spa gift card from Chris and got an hour-long massage on Thursday. Sweet sassy molassy, that was a great hour. Turns out, I'm a little tense along the shoulders and perhaps around the thumbs (?) because she--Bonnie the masseuse, who bore a uncanny resemblance to Barbara Streisand--kept pulling at my thumbs. If you are ever stuck on what to get someone, get them a massage. Except for the laser leveler I am asking for for Xmas, it's about the best gift I can think of.
Cormac McCarthy
Both The Road and No Country for Old Men are remarkable books. The Road made me cry; I've read a lot of McCarthy and tears have never been an emotion that his books have moved me to. No Country for Old Men is well done and deftly crafted; the same ingredients and characters would have fallen flat--or even corny and trite--in lesser hands.
Lars and the Real Girl
I never cared much for Ryan Gosling, but this movie made me a believer. He is just outstanding. The movie also has Emily Mortimer, best known (and loved) to me as "I have hollow bones" from 30 Rock.
Comedic Karma
My sister has a rule never to make fun of people for the things they do because it almost certainly certifies you will end up doing the same thing when in a similar situation. I am finding that to be true. I always used to make fun of my friends for having to call their boyfriends or husbands every night when they were away from them. And yet suddenly that makes complete sense. And I feel like the season of comedic karma is just beginning for me. Should be fun. It's like schadenfreude on yourself.
Recipes
I've decided to start really cooking again. I think it helps to have someone to cook for/with, because it always seemed like too much of a hassle to cook for one and then eat the leftovers for the next week. So, if you're hungry, I will cook for you. It'll be like an experiment. I even bought a small food processor and a hand mixer. It's on, sucka. The soup, that is.
The Dollar Store
I had forgotten the joys of the dollar store. Which is somewhat odd because my dad works in the corporate office of a certain dollar-store chain. But you can buy the whole store for like $50. God bless America. And packs of gift bags, 3 for $1.
Anyhoo.
Ok, I'm going to get better about this. Here I am, a young lady of 31 who has been writing in some sort of diary--online or otherwise--since I was in high school. But sometimes it feels strangely liberating not to write stuff down, like I'm breaking a rule and I know better but it kinda feels good anyway. But the rest of the time it feels lazy and like I haven't digested anything because I've not committed it to the internet for any random stranger to read.
So what does Oprah do when she wants to reward her loyal audience? She secretly invites them to her Favorite Things taping. And the people shit their pants. Well, guess what? You're [not] get[ting] a car! And you're [not] get[ting] a car! And you're [not] get[ting] a car! It's Cambria's Favorite Things [Lately] episode!
Cheesecake
Only because it 's deceptively simple to make, and as long as you cover the cracks on the top with chocolate ganache (and you know I did), people will hoist you onto their shoulders and boyfriend's parents will hug you approvingly. I made a raspberry cheesecake with Oreo crust and the above-mentioned chocolate ganache for Thanksgiving, which I spent with Chris's family at his sister's house. They loved it, and they loved me. Perhaps there is a causal relationship there, perhaps not.
Massages
I finally used my birthday spa gift card from Chris and got an hour-long massage on Thursday. Sweet sassy molassy, that was a great hour. Turns out, I'm a little tense along the shoulders and perhaps around the thumbs (?) because she--Bonnie the masseuse, who bore a uncanny resemblance to Barbara Streisand--kept pulling at my thumbs. If you are ever stuck on what to get someone, get them a massage. Except for the laser leveler I am asking for for Xmas, it's about the best gift I can think of.
Cormac McCarthy
Both The Road and No Country for Old Men are remarkable books. The Road made me cry; I've read a lot of McCarthy and tears have never been an emotion that his books have moved me to. No Country for Old Men is well done and deftly crafted; the same ingredients and characters would have fallen flat--or even corny and trite--in lesser hands.
Lars and the Real Girl
I never cared much for Ryan Gosling, but this movie made me a believer. He is just outstanding. The movie also has Emily Mortimer, best known (and loved) to me as "I have hollow bones" from 30 Rock.
Comedic Karma
My sister has a rule never to make fun of people for the things they do because it almost certainly certifies you will end up doing the same thing when in a similar situation. I am finding that to be true. I always used to make fun of my friends for having to call their boyfriends or husbands every night when they were away from them. And yet suddenly that makes complete sense. And I feel like the season of comedic karma is just beginning for me. Should be fun. It's like schadenfreude on yourself.
Recipes
I've decided to start really cooking again. I think it helps to have someone to cook for/with, because it always seemed like too much of a hassle to cook for one and then eat the leftovers for the next week. So, if you're hungry, I will cook for you. It'll be like an experiment. I even bought a small food processor and a hand mixer. It's on, sucka. The soup, that is.
The Dollar Store
I had forgotten the joys of the dollar store. Which is somewhat odd because my dad works in the corporate office of a certain dollar-store chain. But you can buy the whole store for like $50. God bless America. And packs of gift bags, 3 for $1.
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