It’s 4:45 in the morning, and I haven’t got a cool title to use, or much coherence at all, but I’m antsy and can’t sleep, so may as well write something.

I’ve been in a chemically imbalanced mood all week, not sure if it’s PMS or just the season changing, or stress…probably it’s all three. Was exhausted by eight, but once I got to the bedroom could NOT relax, watched Mythbusters, and finished the skin-of-the-moment for my book blog, but was too unfocussed to enjoy either, and even my AlphaBytes post for the letter E was too short, and not what I wanted.

I had some Kahlua and cream, hoping the alcohol would relax me just enough to slip into sleep, but no, all it did was dehydrate me, and make my faint queasiness less faint. And now, four hours later, I’m awake, parched, and sitting here writing inane things while trying to force myself to drink water.

Note to self: Invest in mineral water. At least the bubbles cure the queasiness, and you can mix it with cranberry juice.

TMI Stuff below.
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Eyrie Drive: The first apartment my mother and I lived in, perched on this street above the New Jersey side of New York Harbor, in Atlantic Highlands. I remember them building bulkheads to shore up the cliffside, and that our neighbors had such bad erosion that there was a gap with a severe drop between their back door and back deck.

The apartment, which we called the Eagle’s Nest, was slate grey outside, but all I remember about inside was a sense of cozy safety and a really big bathroom, and making sand candles.

And the eerie sound of foghorns, but that’s for another entry.

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“Defying Gravity” – the show-stopping number from Wicked that was performed at the Tony Awards last night. Really wish I hadn’t missed that show when it was in SFO before it went to NYC. Completely impressed by it – loved the book as well.

Dreams: I’ve been having vivid ones, recurring scenes where a homeless man is my guide, of sorts. He reminds me of Christopher Lloyd, as the Reverend Jim from Taxi, of all people. I never hear him speak, but I know he is leading me toward good things.

Dallas: I’m becoming more and more intrigued with that city. More on that another time.

Dogs: Zorro and Cleo have banded together to make sure I stay sane and feel loved. It’s almost summer, and they’re clingier than usual. Puppy kisses make everything better.

Days: There aren’t enough hours in one. It’s completely unfair that blogging and scribbling aren’t paying jobs :)

I say… And you think…?

1. Charity:: sweet
2. Scale:: justice
3. Jennifer Lopez:: hype
4. Coercion:: extortion
5. Meter:: maid
6. Pressure:: valve
7. June:: teenth
8. Infestation:: swarm
9. Serial killer:: Linnea Quigley movies
10. Anguish:: pathos

Like this meme? Play along here

I’m sitting here listening to NPR’s streaming feed, a repeat of Friday’s stuff, but since I was at work and away from my desk a lot on Friday, I didn’t hear much of it.

Anyway, they’re talking about a book (didn’t catch the title) the evolution of language, and word usage, and what spellcheck has done to language. They’ve mentioned that it’s largest problem isn’t so much that it offers synonyms that aren’t really appropriate, but that it doesn’t always pickup on misused words that are spelled correctly (ex: they’re/there/their).

What I found more interesting, though, was the comparison of how past (and current) US Presidents have mispronounced the word “nuclear” – they find it notable that George Bush pronounced it correctly – “nu-cle-ar” – but that George W. does not. He says “nu-cu-lar”.

And of course, I also find it interesting that linguists are more interested in the evolution of words like “the” than* words like “serendipity.”

*Edited to correct a typo. For the record, it was a “Melissa was doing too many things at once” thing.”

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Coffee, dark, brown brew that doubles as my elixir of life, with or without the actual caffeine, though the unleaded kind does nothing to combat the congestion in my chest. I’ve been drinking the stuff since childhood, in one form or another – two table spoons from my mother’s cup stirred into my milk, most often – but it’s also my favorite ice cream flavor (especially with a scoop of coconut served along-side), even more than chocolate.

Coffee is my writing drink, and tea is my reading drink. I wonder if it’s because the blend of chamomile and peppermint that I favor is responsible for my different mental processes, or if it’s force of habit. Probably both.

Coffee makes me think in music as well as words, and I have images in my head of jazz trios made of flute, cello, and piano. One thought leads to another, the cello stays, but this time it’s on a cello stand, and there’s a table nearby with an empty mug, and sheet music with hastily scribbled notations – up-bow here, down-bow there, – and a post-it reminding me to practice more in extended positions.

I am pulled from the images in my head as one of the dogs claws at my wrist, catching a tiny toe on the wristband of my watch. Chronometers. I remember that in early Star Trek novels they always had chronometers, not watches. I remember also, that my cello teacher made me remove my watch during lessons. I always felt naked without it, and I made more mistakes because I was uncomfortable, but didn’t have the words for the feeling then.

The dog (Zorro) has had his ears scratched, and now curls up on his pillow. He clearly wants to go cuddle with Fuzzy – he’s a chihuahua, bred to be a sleep companion, and his favorite spot is crunched between us in the bed. I want to go cuddle with Fuzzy, too, but I can’t make the decision, yet, to crawl back into bed.

Fuzzy’s name is my favorite C-word, even more than coffee: Christopher understands me, loves me, supports me. We spend cozy evenings surrounded by the incessant hum of our computers, holding hands across the spot where the couches touch, watching dvd’s, and laughing. Lately, we’ve taken turns sending each other floor plans of houses in Colorado, Texas, Florida. Our next destination still isn’t set.

Coffee. Cuddling.
I think the latter wins this time.

Last night, Fuzzy and I went to see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

First things first – the movie experience:
The line was the longest I’ve ever seen at the Century theaters. Down one row of cars, around and all the way up the next, and then part-way around the theater building as well. But thankfully it was the 10:15 show, so there weren’t that many children there.

The crowd, was pretty cool, really. A sold out show, of course, and no fistfights over seats this time. (We opted for the top wings, where the angle of the seats and the curvature of the screen let you feel almost like dead-center, without fifty people climbing over you to get to their seats. Two beach balls were in circulation as we waited for the previews to roll. The energy was good.

The previews:
A Series of Unfortunate Events: Jim Carrey plays about half the characters, and it looks suitably creepy. I’ve never actually read the Lemony Snicket books, but now I’ll have to.
A Cinderella Story: Not on our “must-see” list. I have a feeling we’ll end up watching this on DVD with our nieces, come Thanksgiving.

Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement: This will be a concession to my inner teenaged girl. I love the first movie, this one looks like it will be charming and funny as well.
The Polar Express: This is one of my favorite children’s books, and favorite Christmas tales, of all time. I’ve known about the film since last November, and even though I’m anti animation (in any form), I still want to see this.
Spider-Man 2: Yeah, it’s on our list for summer. Isn’t it on everyone’s list for summer?
Catwoman: Another on our summer movie list.

And the movie itself? That’s “below the fold.” If you’ve read the book, then plot spoilers won’t bother you; if you haven’t, read with caution. And if you’re a stickler for seeing movies with NO preconceptions, you might want to stop here, anyway, but know this: I LOVED IT.
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Bravo. We Americans tend to use the masculine form, no matter the gender of the person we’re lauding, so much so, that when I see someone using brava I’m always confused for a fraction of a second. A small fraction, but, still…

Bravo, the cable channel, is becoming my new favorite place to hang out on television. First it got me addicted to The West Wing, and the Cirque de Soleil, then it added Queer Eye, and the quasi-improvised relationship show, the name of which is escaping me just now.

Basking, is what I can’t wait to do this weekend: in the sun, in the pool, in the coolness of the now-air conditioned bedroom…really I’m not vegetating when I do this, because my mind is always working. The brain is cool that way.

Blogging. I don’t really think of this as a blog as much as it is a journal, because I don’t generally update more than once or twice a day. And I’m not just posting links. But a ship’s log is more than just notes about the weather, and therefore I use the term anyway.

Books. I’m back in a reading mood, and it’s sparked a new idea for how I want to log my reading (and blog my reading) from now on. I’m planning a new version of Zenitopia, and will unveil it later this weekend, I think.

Business is slow. The guys are asking me to cut my assistant’s hours (but we’ve already cut his number of days), and my fingers are crossed that he’ll do well at his interview because he’s my friend, and I’d rather have a happy, well-paid, friend than an unhappy assistant who is bored and cranky because right now we’re not busy enough.

And yet, on the horizon, business is starting to improve as we point our company in a new direction.

Change is good.

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A is for the ache in my throat and lungs when I woke up this morning, chilled, even though Fuzzy was fever-hot, and wrapped around me. It’s so rare that he’s sick enough to stay home…

Craving fruit, I went exploring in the fridge and found apples, which made me think of the episodes in The West Wing that mention apples and peanut butter as an official snack. I remember having that combination in pre-school, actually.

I also remember having fun with AlphaBits cereal in pre-school, and having a teacher who made us spell polysyllabic words with the sugar-coated letters, before we were allowed to eat them. Then again, I also used to try to find words in the letters of alphabet soup. Ahh, childhood. Funny macaroni and a bit of tomato base, and you were both fed and entertained.

We are now the proud owners of two window air-conditioners. The first has been set up in the bedroom window, the other will go into Fuzzy’s computer room, and between that and the fans we should be comfortable this summer.

We thought about putting in a/c, but neither of is in the mood for contractors to be here banging away inside the ductless walls and floors, or for the expense, just now.

And anyway, it really doesn’t get that hot for that long here. It’s just that the bedroom – our bedroom – only has windows on one side because it was an addition, and there’s no cross-ventilation, so it gets very very stuffy in the summer.

The window fan has helped a lot, but the a/c should allow me to have blissful summer sleep, this year.

Yay.
Coolness.