Received the book via Amazon at 2:30 this afternoon, but only got about 300 pages in before we had to get ready to go to ComedySportz, where we started with only ten reserves, and ended up with a full house. I wasn’t playing tonight, but had made arrangements to shadow the Sound person, because I want to learn sound.

Afterwards a bunch of us went to dinner.

And then we came home and I had to give the dogs attention, and dinner, and Miss Cleo who tries to eat fingers when we attempt to clip her nails had ripped her dew claw apart digging up carpet, and we were just talking about dosing her with benadryl and clipping it, when she chewed it off.

So I just finished it about fifteen minutes ago, and I’m still digesting it, of course, and in a day or so there will be an actual review at Bibliotica but for now, I’m only going to repeat what I told my husband, which was that there were a few things I’d have preferred to be different, but overall it was immensely satisfying.

And then I just read almost the same words in one of the livejournals on my f-list.

I’ll admit my eyes are wet, and have been since a chapter near the end, and much of what happened was predictable, but…still…it was satisfying.

And with that, I am going to bed, and if we wake up before Monday, we’ll go see Hairspray.

In IM chatter with the lovely and wise Sky just a bit ago, the subject of confidence came up. I said I needed more of it, she asked “what is confidence?”

We talked around the subject for a bit, throwing out elements. I suggested “faith,” which she accepted, and “attitude,” which she thought implied arrogance rather than confidence.

We agreed that confidence is grounded by something. She used the word “solid” and then the word “surety.”

“Surety.” Yes. I like this word. I said so.

She thew out words like “positivity” and “optimism” and there was a CLICK inside my head. You know the kind. The incandescent lightbulb of an IDEA beginning to form.

“Pose,” I said.

“Poise,” she countered.

“No. POSE.” And I explained:

Positivity. Optimism. Surety. Energy.

=
Confidence.

So. Strike the POSE.

Thirteen Things about MissMeliss 13 Things that begin with L Lama / Llama: Whether it’s the venerated holy one, or the beast of burden, I like lamas and llamas. The one speaks to my soul, the other to the part of me that likes to pet animals. And because a T13 isn’t complete without a quotation, here, have some Ogden Nash. The one-l lama, He’s a priest. The two-l llama, He’s a beast. And I will bet A silk pajama There isn’t any Three-l lllama. Lamplight: Nothing is cozier than the soft glow of a soft pink bulb on a rainy day. Sometimes, especially in winter, I turn off the big lights and use lamps just for the mood. Kerosene lanterns are nice, as well. Lemons and Limes: I like oranges and tangerines, of course, but it’s the tarter citrus fruits that really spark my interest. I’m a great fan of lemons and/or limes in water, cranberry juice, tea, or just in pretty bowls – food as art. And in the summer, nothing beats a chilled lemon- or limeade. L’Engle, Madeleine: Her book A Wrinkle in Time was my first doorway into fantasy and science fiction, and it was by lamplight during a lightning storm that I curled up on a quilt in a good friend’s guest room with a bowl of carob chips and cool water, reading while my mother socialized. I was all of eight. Later, I began reading her general fiction and non-fiction. Her Crosswicks Journals are fascinating, and Certain Women is one of my favorite books to re-read. Levers: More than useful devices, levers remind me of my grandfather teaching me physics in a way my four-year-old self would grasp. Licorice: I like both kinds – red and black – but licorice also reminds of my grandmother’s “beach soap.” Tiny round cakes of black licorice-scented soap she’d stash in her beach tote in case the public restrooms were out of soap. Which they often were. Lightning: I love storms as much for the lightning as for the rain and wind. Nature’s fireworks are so primal and exhilerating. Lipstick: Black sunglasses and fuck-me-dead red lipstick were a favorite look when I was in college. Now? I favor coppery colors, though there’s this one tube of sparkly raspberry sorbet that I just love. Little Women: One of my favorite books ever, along with its three sequels. Jo March remains my hero. Lists: I like listing things, in the survey sense (as if my participation in this meme wasn’t a clue), but I don’t generally make “to do” lists. Lizards: I detest bugs, but I love lizards, especially the cute little geckos and anoles that populate my back yard and eat the mosquitoes and the fire ant eggs. I’ve always wanted a pet iguana, but dogs are better for interaction. Love: Whether it keeps us together, eases our minds, or is simply all we need, love is a pretty cool thing. Like ‘hate’ we tend to over-use it, but somehow such casual use doesn’t diminish it when it’s used in a meaningful way. Lyrics: I like music just fine, and while I appreciate classical pieces and instrumental fare, for me, it’s as much about the lyrics as the actual tune. Part poetry, part prose, often cheesy, somehow lyrics convey what spoken words simply cannot.

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I’ve always had a rule about not using my real picture on my blog. Oh, the pink-wig pic is me, but it’s me when I’m tan, and the image is way shrunken, and the pink part is a virtual wig. I used to be involved in some political causes that had life-threatening consequences, you see. I still believe in those causes, but enough time has passed.

And as a friend pointed out, I write about pink hair rather enticingly.

So I’m making an exception, once, and sticking it up here in this post. Yes, I’m wearing shades. It was very bright and my eyes were teary from pollen. Also, it’s the best look at the hair, despite the wind. And I hate my teeth, so I don’t like to smile. (Also, I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick, and I suspect my dog might have eaten it.)

No, it probably doesn’t look as magenta as it really IS, in the image. It looks amazing on stage though, with those lights shining behind it. I’m told it will fade to a paler pink. It looks pretty cool on the oxford blue pillow case I forgot to cover the night I had it done, too. Sort of like fuschia easter egg dye. (Btw, Firefox thinks I misspelled ‘fuschia.’)

We didn’t bleach out the strands that were dyed, this time, though we did when did the original pink several months ago. We WILL be bleaching again when I go back on September 1st. At that point I may switch back to Atomic Pink (brighter, and glows under black light) or might not. I want to see how this fades.

Ok, so here’s the day where I engage in shameless promotion. Of course I wouldn’t do so if I didn’t firmly believe in the product. I’ve been walking around a LOT lately and figured I should inform you about Dansko shoes. Ordinarily, I’d throw on sneakers and go about my usual meandering. But being an adventure seeker, (or perhaps bored) I figured I should give Dansko sandals a try and see if I can do the same amount of foot travel outside my comfort zone. I had a pair in my closet (for market research of course), slipped one of them on and set about my day.

Granted I wouldn’t go hiking up a mountain in these, as I don’t believe Dansko shoes makes any open-toed hiking apparel. These were surprisingly comfortable and stylish for everyday activity. Too much like a sales pitch for Dansko shoes? Perhaps. But I did quickly acclimate to having these on my feet and also had the bonus experience of an added couple inches to my height.

The song “Hey There, Delilah” by the Plain White T’s wrapped itself around my brain this evening, as Fuzzy and I were on our way to buy dog food and bully sticks and stop at the bank. I’ve only heard it once or twice, but I like it. I like the acoustic guitar and the orchestral strings in the background. I like the simple lyrics and unfussy melody. It reminds me a little of the Simon and Garfunkel songs my mother used to play when I was a kid.

I like the name Delilah. It’s fun to say. And it also takes me back to childhood.

Specifically, it reminds me of one of my favorite albums of all time, Free to Be You and Me. It was a collection of songs and stories for kids, produced by Marlo Thomas in 1973, I think. I had it on vinyl then. Last year, I bought it on CD. I think I’ve only listened to it once, but I smile just knowing that I have it.

One of the stories was about Delilah Bush, a tomboy whose grandmother wanted her to be a proper young lady. The woman who told that story had a voice that sounded like coddled eggs.

I smile the same way when I think about the mostly-untouched 96-box of crayons inside my supply cabinet. It is important that they are there, even if I never use them.

I love that something like a song can make me remember the scent of my grandfather’s clean t-shirts on the line, or the taste of honeysuckle on a summer afternoon. I love that the texture of the paper wrapping on a crayon can carry me back to a time when we ate raspberries straight off the vine, and I reveled in the soft coolness of a paper napkin that had come from the bottom of a picnic cooler at the beach, and wasn’t grossed out by a little sand in my tuna sandwich.

I think there’s a little bit of Delilah in all of us.

Hey there Delilah
Don’t you worry about the distance
I’m right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it’s my disguise
I’m by your side

…is newly re-dyed but it is not pink. No. The streaks this time are kind of purple…not grape juice purple, mind you but a purple that hovers between red-violet and magenta.

I quite like it.

Am napping now, for an hour, before getting ready for CSz.

Thirteen Things about Miss Meliss 13 Things that Begin with K Kajagoogoo: It’s not so much that I love their music, especially since, like most of us in the US, I’m really only familiar with their one song from the 80’s, “Too Shy,” but their name is so much fun to say. Kaleidoscope: I’ve always loved these little tubes made of cardboard and magic. Turn the dial for different designs. Kali: One of my favorite BPAL scents. Here’s their description: Kali, the Black One, is the fearless Goddess of Destruction, Creation, Energy [in her Shakti aspect] and Dissolution. Also named Kaliratri [Black Night] and Kalikamata [Black Earth-Mother], she is the fiercest aspect of Devi, the supreme mother goddess. Kali is a protector Goddess, the destroyer of evil spirits and guardian of the faithful. She, along with her consort Shiva, represent the unending cycle of death and birth, sexual union, creation and destruction. Kali annihilates ignorance, maintains the natural order of the world, and blesses those who strive for spiritual awareness and knowledge of true holiness with infinite tenderness and motherly love. The constant, unending Work of Creation is called the “The Play of Kali”. This perfume is a blend of the sacred blooms of cassia, hibiscus, musk rose, Himalayan wild tulip, lotus and osmanthus swirled with offertory dark chocolate, red wine, tobacco, balsam and honey. Keaton, Michael: A recent mini-marathon of his films gave me new respect for the man who is not only Beetlejuice but also my favorite Batman. I caught one of his gentler movies, My Life, on cable the other day, and had to ask myself, “Why isn’t he doing more?” Myself refused to answer. Kelp: Northern California beaches are littered with kelp fronds, and while at first they seem just like any other sea-weed, a closer look reveals these wonderful oval pods that are quite satisfying to pop. They burst with a wonderful wet squelchy sound. Keys: Old keys, the large ones with the pretty details, are the most intriguing, but so are mystery keys – the ones we have on our rings, but don’t know why, or what they might unlock. I like the satisfying jingle of keys, as well. And there are other keys to consider: piano keys, for example, and the keys beneath my fingertips right now. Whether they open doors, make music, or combine letters and symbols into thoughts and stories, keys are magical. Khaki: It might be the staple of the techy’s wardrobe, but it’s also one of my staples. Khaki pants and a simple black t-shirt can take you from work to dinner with just a touch-up of lipstick required, and khaki shorts and skirts always look crisp and cool, and make my skin look tanner than it is. While I’m NOT a military brat, I used to spend summers hanging Fort Monmouth with my grandparents when I was a small child, and I remember being surrounded by men in khaki and OD whenever we were on post. My grandmother told me once that when I was a newborn, the soldiers returning from Vietnam used to take turns holding me (and all the babies on the ward), so I think my appreciation of khaki and olive drab was instilled as long ago as that. For more about khaki, go here. Kilts: There’s something about a man in a kilt that’s just completely sexy, and yet, a stylized kilt on a little girl can be completely precious. And of course, if you’ve ever been to a Renaissance Faire you’re familiar with the song “The Sleeping Scotsman” – here’s the full version (most recordings have the final two verses omitted.) Oh a Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair And one could tell by how he walked he’d drunk more than his share He fumbled round til he could no longer keep his feet Then he stumbled off unto the grass to sleep beside street. Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Oh he stumbled off unto the grass to sleep beside the street. Well about that time two young and lovely ladies happened by And one said to the other, with a twinkle in her eye “Oh see yon sleepy Scotsman, so strong and handsome built?” “Well I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath their kilts.” Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, “Oh I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath their kilts.” Well they snuck up to that sleeping Scotsman, quiet as could be And they lifted up his kilt a little bit so they might see And there before their startled eyes, beneath that Scottish skirt, Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth. Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth. Well they marvelled for a moment, then one said, “We must be gone.” Let’s leave a present for our friend before we move along.” As a gift, they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow Around the bonnie star the Scotsman’s kilt did lift and show. Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, Around the bonnie star the Scotsman’s kilt beneath did show. Well the Scotsman woke to nature’s call and stumbled towards a tree, And as he lifted up his kilt, he gawks at what he sees, And in a strangled voice, he says to what’s before his eyes, “I don’t know where ye been, me lad, but I see ye took first prize!” Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, “I don’t know where ye been, me lad, but I see ye took first prize!” Our Scottish friend still dressed in kilt continued down the street, He hadn’t gone ten yards or more, when a girl he chanced to meet. She said, “I’ve heard what’s ‘neath that kilt, tell me is it so.” He said, “Just put your hand up miss, if you’d really like to know.” Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, He said, “Just put your hand up miss, if you’d really like to know.” She put her hand right up his kilt and much to her surprise, The Scotsman smiled and a very strange look came into his eyes. She said, “Why sir that’s gruesome,” and then she heard him roar, “If you put your hand up once again you’ll find it grew some more.” Ring-ding diddle diddle aye-dee-oh, ring dye diddly-aye oh, “If you put your hand up once again you’ll find it grew some more.” Kissing: There are as many reasons to like kissing as there are kinds of kisses. Further explanation isn’t required. Kites: I love kites. I love the way tissue paper, glue, string and sticks can become a toy or a piece of art, or both. I also love the innocent joy that kites and kite-flying represent. Knapsacks: Having never been a briefcase person, I’ve had to come up with an alternative for carrying stuff. Purses are great for essentials, and messenger bags are handy, but it’s the knapsack that I love. Truly, and knapsack and a backpack are not the same thing. The first is for daily carrying, you sling it nonchalantly over one shoulder. It likely has patches or stickers or inked-on doodles, and is the accessory equivalent of a denim jacket. Backpacks, on the other hand, are square and meant for camping, and you use both straps. Also, knapsack is one of those words like “satchel” that sort of implies well-worn canvas or leather, and a life of adventure, even if the adventure might be entirely internal. Knots: In my deepest fantasies, I take a year off and spend it on a sailboat, and have to know how to tie knots. In reality, I suck at this, but I learned a few knots when I was about ten, and my grandfather was teaching me macrame. Other people knit, I do macrame and crewel embroidery. The cruelest part of crewel, by the way? French knots. Koalas: I know they’re not pets, not tame, not friendly, but they’re so adorable with their big eyes and funny noses. I had a life-sized plush Koala when I was a kid – don’t know what happened to it, but I loved that bear. BONUS: Keeshan, Bob: No k-list is complete without mentioning Bob Keeshan, whom most people my age knew as Captain Kangaroo. A gentle soul with a mischievous spirit, I always liked him better than Mr. Rogers. Really.

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