A great birthday. Well, it was okay...

I've had a string of crappy birthdays. I don't really think it's my being born that was crappy, so much as having my birthday the same week as Thanksgiving. Sometimes, it's even on Thanksgiving. I know, it baffles the mind.

I could recount past birthdays that sucked, but let's stay in the now.

Memory Montage Scene: November 23rd, 2005

I get out of bed, like normal, get dressed for work, get my stuff together, Andrew sings a strange birthday song while doing a butt-dance. I think everyone should begin their day with a butt-dance.

I get to work, and everyone wishes me a happy birthday as they walk in. Woo. Proceed with normal work-day activities, including dealing with SnappyAdmin at one of the other offices. Nothing like being snapped at by the woman who invented unpleasantness on your birthday. Or any other day. Because today may be your last, you know? Some cliche philosophy for you, no charge.

My mom called me at like 8:05AM at work to sing me Happy Birthday, and Sam's call was promptly a few minutes later. AWESOME! Even better was when my father showed up at work.

Normally, my father showing up at work is a Bad Thing. But this time, he had a card for me. And in that card was MONEY! For me! I love money! (Always a good gift from my father, since he doesn't really know or like me.) It was by far, one of the best gifts I got this year. So far.

I took my lunch promptly on time. Since we were having cake at 2PM, that meant leaving a little before 1. We got out at 3PM that day. That's right, gentle audience. Jasmin drove her butt home for lunch (like she does every day), drove back to work for an hour, then drove back home. The sucky thing is, we had cake for like 45 minutes. I could have just taken the cake home at lunch, but where would the celebration be?

Let's add that the web guy called like two seconds before I was getting ready to pack up my stuff to haul my butt home, so I grab it in the empty office, with the lights off, thinking it was just another call to transfer to someone's voicemail. Oh no, it's a call for me. Somewhat important, too.

So picture this: here is your lovely heroine, chatting with the web guy (who is charming- I have no complaints with him) about the next step that needs to be taken, in a dark office, with my feet up on the desk.

My co-workers start closing up the office around me. As in, I walked down a dark hallway when I was finally done on the phone. This means, everyone left before me. Poop. Or as they say at Ikea, Püp.

No matter, I go home and play for a little while before Andrew gets home. We get our crap together, head over to Chevy's to find the Hopf crowd waiting for us. Woo! Now the REAL fun begins.

We have fun at dinner, and part of the dinner festivities were the Naked Man playing cards. These were to follow the theme of the Naked Woman playing cards that I got last year (that we proudly wore on our yellow pointy hats). The NW cards were straight out of the '80's. Oh yeah, they weren't even marginally attractive. The NM cards must have been produced by the same people, because there was a veritable plethora of mullets and unattractive men. A great gift, which we used while we waited in line for RENT to play "Go Fish" with. We ran into one of the guy's friends, lets call him... ScreamingQueen. Now, this is merely an allegation of his amazingly gayness, but I'm sorry, sistafriend- pink isn't for boys. It's just not. There's a reason you haven't had a girlfriend in years. It's because you're gay!

I like gay men. Usually, they like me. I don't like this one. I'll be polite to him, but that's all he gets from me. I thought he was hot in high school, before I had a CONVERSATION with him. Actually, it wasn't much of a conversation, so much as SQ speaking, and me trying to get in a word edgewise. Unsuccessfully. Imagine that.

It was really bad, every time someone would open their mouth to comment on something he had ASKED about, he would throw his hand up in your face ("talk to the hand" style), and speak even faster and louder. Really, people. No exaggeration necessary.

So, he decided to sit with us, since he was friends with my friends (no biggie, he didn't sit next to me and bug me). Ally grabbed the center seat behind the railing (a great choice), and we grouped in the first 2 rows around the center.

I sang. It was really fun, singing all out, and still hearing the movie loud and clear. Rumor has it that other people were singing, too, but I could hear anyone but Ally and Grace occasionally. Good times were had by all.

After that I totally pooped (püped) out and we went home, but it was freaking awesome. Thanks for a great birthday, guys!

Finished Object

Woo! I finished my pink wristers! They're AWESOME.

VEGAS, BABY!

On Friday, I skeedadled my behind from work at 5PM sharp, having previously done a hop-spin down the hallway to express my elation in the form of interpretive dance, since in an hour and a half I was GOING TO VEGAS!

Jealous? I knew you would be.

Since I am the QUEEN of good planning, I hadn't packed anything, but I pulled the clothes that I had chosen to wear to Avenue Q. Other than that, I could have done all of my clothes for the weekend in my backpack, but Andrew had the supreme forethought to bring my Cavaliers bag and not have our backpacks stuffed to the gills. This is a good thing.

We go to the airport, get dinner at the world reknown King of Burgers, and I get a latte, since we were getting in at about 10PM, I wasn't going to waste one minute in the hotel. Hopped up on caffiene and the hopes of winning a million dollars (my goal for the weekend), we headed for the security gates.

With all honesty, I understand why we have to show up early, and practically get cavity searched everytime we fly. Because people are scared. I'm not, but whatever. I enjoy the extra time to sit and read fluff. We walk through, and begin getting out of our shoes and coats, when someone knocks over their soda, right across the walkway...where we all are walking in socked feet. I found this terribly amusing, since I hadn't squished through it, so I laughed. Apparently, airport security was less amused. They didn't punish me or anything, but I thought, This five feet here is the ONLY place you go in socked feet. Of COURSE this is where a soda gets dumped.

Bear in mind that I am in a GREAT mood. That's how I could laugh at a potentially shitty situation.

We get though security fine, wait for maybe 15 minutes, then board the plane. Oh, and the carrier- America West- overbooks EVERYTHING. Both flights, they begged people to switch flights. Not us, we're headed for VEGAS, BABY!

For the duration of the flight, the man who sat next to me- a rather good-looking nerd-type- read, moving his lips the entire time. And I may add, that his personal hygene skills were not... adequate. Every time my shoulder brushed his (which was often, because sardines have more room to wiggle about, with all that convenient oil), he would shift uncomfortably, and glance at my chest. Soak it up, buddy, I'm in a good mood.

We get to Vegas! and the cab system at the airport is freaking BRILLIANT. Efficient. Within two minutes of de-planing, we're on a cab to our hotel. With a cab driver who sounds like he's going to die of emphezema any second.

It was a short ride to the Residence Inn (our hotel, free, courtesy of our credit card miles, same as our flight), so we got out, dropped our stuff and headed out for the strip.

It would be prudent to mention that my other goal for my Vegas trip was to see a taping of CSI and become a corpse on the show, which Andrew totally crapped on. But hope springs eternal, right?

We walk to the strip. We walked all the way AROUND the back way from the Residence Inn to the Strip. OhmyfreakingGod. Such a long walk. Seriously. In the 40 years where Moses and his groupies wandered around the desert, they didn't do more walking than we did that night.

We went into Treasure Island, which is terribly tacky and full of smokers. I played a few slots, lost about $3.00 (won $.75, but blew it in the effort to win the million. Dammit!), and we moved on. We walked down as far as Bally's, but not before yours truly managed to do some serious damage to herself. That's right, I pulled my groin muscle (Andrew says it's not, but it's the leg/crotch crease, which says "groin" to me) walking the freaking strip. Sooooo much pain.

All I can think to myself is "Oh my God. I am in so much pain and we have to walk our asses ALL THE WAY BACK to the hotel." Oh, and there was no rental car for the weekend, as we had planned to walk. And now I'm in grievous pain.

Andrew sees the sign for the Monorail, so we head towards it, in hope that it will take us closer to the hotel, so I don't have to schlep my gimpy backside all that way back. I limp all the way in to find that the Monorail is the greatest invention EVER. It has a stop ACROSS THE STREET from our hotel. I couldn't have been happier.

SATURDAY

We spent most of Saturday at the Star Trek Experience, which I thought was really fun. I enjoyed being able to see a chronological timeline of the Star Trek Universe. We went on the Klingon Encounter first, which was freaking awesome.

While in line for the "ride", they had a video playing with the EASIEST Star Trek trivia EVER. So easy, in fact, that the people in line were groaning at the simplicity. Two guys show up in command uniforms (red shirts), with pips designating them both as Captains. Normally, I wouldn't make fun of them (ok, I would), but this bears more mockery than normal.

On the ride, you end up on the deck of the Enterprise, and the people on the command deck are scuttling around resolving the conflict that the ride centers around. Here are two "captains" and they're standing around like dumbasses. A distinct lack of leadership ability makes me want to confiscate their pips and reduce them both to Ensign (rank: fodder). If they're Captains, I'm a freaking Admiral. I laughed at them. Silly nerds.

After that, we were FAMISHED, so we ate at Quark's Bar (which had REALLY good food), and we drank something called a "Borg Sphere"- a fishbowl FULL of alcohol- with dry ice for dramatic effect. Intended for two, so we shared it. The two of us managed to get about halfway done with it before we both were buzzed. The Ferengi running the bar mocked us for listing so early into our drink. It was cool. Then we went on the Borg Encounter, which was still fun, but not as cool as the Klingon one. I was especially entertained, because at one point, a Borg grabs one of the guides (who was right next to me). I considered letting loose a blood-curdling scream, but thought better of it, since I was not exactly sober. Next time, I'm going through that one sober and screaming.

We hit the gift shop (which is GREAT). We played the slots there afterwards, and we [Andrew] won like $90 on a Star Wars slot machine. After that, we got ready for the show and went to The Wynn.

The theater was beautiful. And full of old people. Seriously, with walkers and stuff. I leaned over to Andrew and pointed out the demographic that was in the theater- not exactly the crowd I would expect to see at this show.

The two old ladies next to me were discussing the show, and one said to the other "Do you know what this show is about?" to which her friend replied, "No, but I heard ads for it on the radio." I had to stifle my laughter, because they had NO idea what they had signed up for.

They didn't laugh once. Oh, and at "The Money Song", where they come out into the audience, the old people didn't catch on to pass the money to the hat. Stupid old people.

After the show, we had dinner, and headed back to the hotel (we were tired).

Sunday

We had brunch at a particularly heinous Tapas place, where they served me ceviche with bad fish and tried to convince me that it's Spanish ceviche, which is different from Mexican ceviche. Bad fish is bad fish, lady. I didn't say it wasn't delicious, I said "The fish has gone off." You bet it wasn't on the bill, I ate one bite and pushed it aside.

The airport was an enormous CF. The America West self-check in kiosks were down, which meant 8 gajillion people huffing and puffing about waiting in line. I read my book.

We finally board the plane, then sit there for an extra 20 minutes. Paperwork. Hmpf. We got home safe, had dinner with the family, greeted our puppies (who missed us sooooo much), and got to bed early because we were bone-tired. And not millionares. We're going again, eventually, seeing more shows, and staying at the Residence Inn again- specifically because it's not on the strip, but has easy access to everything.

Birthday goodness

Just a note to keep everyone updated on what's going on for my birthday. We're starting 6-ish, seeing RENT, and having dinner. Not necessarily in that order. Maybe hanging out at the Shanty afterwards. We will be exchanging names for the Christmas gift exchange, for any/all interested.

Gift exchange information

If you are interested in participating in the gift exchange, show up, write your name on the slip of paper, drop it in the hat, then draw a name. You will be giving a gift ($50 price range) to the person you draw at the Christmas/Holiday party (time/date/place TBD). If you can't make it to my party, let me know and you will be included and drawn for in absentia.

I'll write about Vegas later, but for now, just the update on the "party" stuff.

Singing Andrew's Praises

If you were jealous that I married a tall, dark, and handsome man, it gets even better.

Yesterday, he fixed something around the house. That's right, ladies. He fixed the broken light switch in the closet. By the way, the switch being broken caused a relatively tragic fashion disaster, where my slacks, blouse, and sweater (all visible) did not even come remotely close to matching each other.

He also went to the bead shop where CrackedOutLesbian works, because I was scared of a repeat of the last trip.

Time Lapse Montage Scene

It's a Friday night. We're going to BJ's with the Hopf crowd. I need to exchange 22 gauge headpins for 24 gauge headpins, because they are superior and less expensive. This should take maybe 10 minutes, tops.

I walk in, and nobody is there. Now, I could:

(A) Take what I need, and leave, undetected.
(B) Take everything, because I am a klepto.
(C) Do my "Helloooooo?" to the back, hoping that the store was not inadvertantly left empty and there is actually an employee back there.

Thinking that choosing (C) was the wise idea, I did so, and out comes COL. I didn't know that she was crazy by looking at her, but oh, was I in for a treat. And by treat, I mean 45 minutes of having my ears bent by this escaped mental patient.

I said a quick prayer to any God or Goddess who would help me, I prayed for a phone call from Andrew, asking me why I'm so late. My prayers were answered, the phone rang, and I said, very obviously, "Oh, dinner is ready. And getting cold. I will be RIGHT THERE."

I move towards the door, but her tongue is too quick, and I am caught with a dilemma: Do I just leave and let her keep talking, and be totally rude, or do I hope that a natural end comes?

Because there are only a few worthwhile bead places in the area, I chose the latter so that I wouldn't be blacklisted from the bead shop nearest my home. Fortunately, Andrew's spider senses signaled him that I had been trapped by COL, so he called me again, to ask if I was near home yet.

This was my escape, she stopped speaking when my phone range, and I answered it, said, "I'm leaving RIGHT NOW," and waved as I walked out the door, still on the phone. My ears were ringing for a good part of the night. I haven't been able to go in since, but they have the best price on the headpins I like, it's a slight problem.

So, I left the package with how many packages I needed, and asked Andrew to face the bead shop. He emerged victorious and unscathed. It's not like I don't like lesbians, I went to a women's college for pete's sake! This one needed to be heavily medicated, is all.

The next story is going to be about TheCarGuy, who acosted us in the parking lot after my Saturday night class.

Stolen from The Skaren

[Name] Jasmin
[Age] 23 in 12 days
[Nickname] Snazzmin, Snuggle Nugget
[Birthday] see "[Age}"
[Born] Feet first, one hand over my head.
[Sexual Prefrence] Men. Preferably sans mustaches.
[Status] Intrinsic. Educated. Married.
[Lives] If you call what I do living, yes.
[Nationality] American. Oh, you mean CULTURAL IDENTITY. Persian.
[Height] 5'1" ish
[Weight] 121 as of Friday
[Eye Color] Brown
[Hair Color] Brownish with reddish highlights
[Virgin] No, I prefer my beverages to have some experience.
[Siblings] Sam.
[Nieces/Nephews] 8. 6 girls, 2 boys.
[Parents still together] Like "The Twits" by Roald Dahl
[Best Friend] Andrew.
[Enemy] BabyMomma (ask me later)
[First Bestfriend] Elena- her mom was blind.
[First Boyfriend/Girlfriend] David from the Hopf.
[Last Boyfriend/Girlfriend] Zak, if you don't count Andrew b/c I married him.
[Ever been in love?] Yes.
[Longest Relationship] Current, hitting 4 1/2 years in February.
[Shortest Relationship?] 2 months, David.

[Favorite Car] Batmobile.
[Favorite Place] Monterey. Or in bed.
[Favorite Number] 63 or 7. Also like 13.
[Favorite Letter] Anthing that has a check in it
[Favorite Holiday] Arbor Day.
[Favorite Sport] Drum Corps.
[Favorite age so far] 18 and 19 were pretty good.
[Favorite Drink] Single, Decaf venti 5 pumps of almond, 1 pump of raspberry, breve latte. No Foam.
[Favorite Day of the week] Saturday.
[Favorite type of music] Broadway.
[Favorite Singer] Douglas Sills, Hugh Jackman.
[Favorite Rapper] The little old lady from The Wedding Singer
[Favorite Band] Tenacious D.
[Favorite Song] "The Internet is For Porn"
[Favorite CD] Currently- Little Women
[Number of CD's owned] Lots.
[Favorite Movie] Lots. Hopefully RENT.
[Favorite TV Show] Currently, CSI.

[[Do You]]
[Smoke] Nope, SMOLDER.
[Drink] Lattes, hot chocolate, water, milk. And booze of all varieties.
[Gamble] Everytime I get in my car.
[Cheat] At cards.
[Like Guns] I like the idea of shooting at targets.
[Like Video Games] Nope.
[Own a car] Yep. Morocco Mole.
[Own a cellphone] Yes.
[Own a gun] No.
[Have a creditcard] Yes, that's how our Vegas trip was basically comped, excluding food and theater tickets.
[Do Drugs] Um, no.
[Go To School] Not any more, but I teach, so does that count?
[Wear Watches] If I got up 5 minutes earlier, or preplanned my wardrobe, yes.
[Wear Bracelets] Nope. Childhood trauma.
[Wear necklaces] When I have time to coordinate
[Wear Belts] Yes, to hold my pants up.
[Have a purse/wallet] Two wallets, many purses.
[Use flourescent lightbulbs] Um, possibly.
[Have a TV in your room] Yes, to Andrew's great chagrin.
[Have a computer in your room] I could. It's a laptop.
[Have an entertainment system in your room] TV, DVD player, tiny boombox.
[Have a DVD player in your room] See above.
[Have an origional painting in your room] You are funny. I WISH.
[Have a Picasso in your room] read above.
[Have a walk-in closet] Yeah, but I have to share it.
[Share a room] Yeah. With that wierd guy who follows me around.

[[Describe the Perfect girl/boy]]
[Eye Color] I've been drawn to blue-eyed men in the past. Andrew has brown eyes that turn green with his mood. Bring on the men, that's what I say.
[Hair Color] Used to be attracted to blonds, but I'm finding more and more that I like dark-haired men.
[Height] Andrew is too tall. I would say 5'9"-5'11"
[Weight] Fit, but not stickly.
[Nationality] Not Persian, or any other nationality that encourages misogyny.
[Wears glasses] That's hot.
[Favorite type of music] Something a little different than me, but with some overlap, preferably Broadway being the overlap.
[Favorite Sport] Drum Corps, or hockey.
[Bubbly or laid back] laid back. I can't deal with bubbly.
[Lazy or active] Active enough to push a vaccuum around the house, not so active that he's never ever around.
[Funny or serious] Sarcastic.
[Quiet or loud] Subdued enough to be my subtle, funny, other half. Or my straightman.
[Has a job] This is a must. Being unemployed and not a student is an unacceptable combination that has doomed many women into Sugar Mama relationships, which are BAD.
[Has a car] This would help. I don't like to drive, and I don't let others drive my car.
[Virgin] Doesn't bother me, I'll break him in. :)
[Likes to drive] See "[Has a car]"
[Likes to party] Preferably "likes to be social" but isn't the idiot with the lampshade on his head.
[Likes to swim] Sure.
[Likes children] This is a must for long-term.
[Likes to travel] Yes, childhood trauma from not traveling enough. [Smokes] This is a definite NO. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
[Drinks] Occaisionally is fine with me, but not if it's a requirement to have fun .
[Artistic] [Bilingual]

FO! Socks!

Last week, Mom was up in Auburn, visiting Constance and the kidlets, so I taught her beginning knitting class on Monday, then later in the week taught Socks on Friday(6 students) and Socks on Circs (2 students) on Saturday night. And I (sort of) subbed for her "Mom-n-Me" class.

I spoke briefly with Melinda of Tess Yarns on Saturday, and we talked about Stitches (countdown to be posted when I can find one), for which I am knitting wristers/gauntlets to match the ribbon shells that I will be wearing (probably in her booth). I am SO excited!

In order to absolve myself of unfinished project guilt, I finished a pair of Koigu socks (Koigu from South Dakota) and cast on the wristers. They're in the sidebar as socks because there was no glove option and I'm not saavy enough to design my own. They're from the Purl Stitch by Sally Melville.

More later, I forgot what I was going to blog about besides the socks and classes.

The Netflix Conspiracy

I'm not normally a conspiracy theorist, but the last two weeks have caused me to raise a suspicious eyebrow.

Normally, the cycle goes like this:

Day 1 Watch DVD.
Day 2 Mail DVD. Usually it's received the same day, otherwise it is recieved on Day 3.
Day 3 DVD is recieved, next DVD is mailed.
Day 4 Get the next DVD at home.

The four day turnaround isn't bad. It gives us time to cycle out and have one DVD at a time to watch. Usually. The last two weeks have had nearly a full week for turnaround time. Now, four days means that you can have two sets of DVDs a week, if you remember to drop the watched ones in the mail. We all know that since there is nothing good on the El Cheapo cable on Mondays (and most other nights), it is critical to have DVDs arrive in a timely fashion.

"So where is the conspiracy?" you ask.

See, we have the standard, 3-Disc plan. We have been perfectly happy with this arrangement; it's less expensive than fancy schmancy cable. So, in order for them to really get us to spend money with them, they're trying to make us up our plan so that we never run out of commercial-free entertainment.

Ok, maybe it's not a *real* conspiracy. But it TOTALLY could be. The really stupid thing is that I work around the corner from their headquarters. If it was their headquarters/master distribution center I could totally walk in, grab my DVDs, and save them exactly $2.4 gazillion** dollars on our household ALONE.

**Amount subject to interpretation.

I win and you STINK!

That's right, you heard me. I am a WINNER!!!!

I listen to the local country western station when I get ready for work, and in the car on the way to work. This morning's contest was to win tickets to The Lion King, which I already had tickets for. What did callers have to do? Quote the lines following these:

"Can you feel the love tonight?
The peace the evening brings..."

Easy, right? Wrong. FIVE people miss it before I dial in, thinking "I am never going to get through." But I DID.

I totally won. That's right. I RULE at "What's the next line?". For Broadway stuff, anyway.

It's done in live time, so you could hear Andrew laughing in the background. Because I called in out of spite for all of the crappy callers who were hoping to get a "thanks for trying" prize.

Finger wedgiesFinger wedgies

I have wicked tendonitis. I know what it's from- duh- working on the website all day at work. So in addition to wearing my rigid wrist braces at night, I started wearing the fashion statement of the century, which have surprisingly worked.

Unfortunately, they are chafing the spot between my index and middle fingers. Pain!

In other news, we went to the Melting Pot for dinner Saturday night before we saw West Side Story. Diana DeGarmo SUCKS!!! She may have nearly been an American Idol, but she was the least talented person on that stage. She was also the pudgiest Maria I've ever seen, including high school performances. It's really sad that the level of talent on American Idol turns out to be so low compared to stage performers.

Just for the record, I didn't ever watch American Idol (except for the Auditions, occasionally), and I heard Ms. DeGarmo's name in my Modern Drama Lit class in college, when the back row was OBSESSED with it.

KNIT CONTENT

I finished a pair of socks this weekend, and I'm plugging through the stitch markers at a good clip. Woo!

Stop following me around!

Thief Steals $75,000 Worth of Bull Semen

The article speaks for itself. I have to say, I sympathized with the guy who had his bull semen purloined. Could you imagine that kind of loss?

I mean, after the carpal tunnel went away from obtaining all that semen, only to turn around and find that someone has stolen all of that hard work. Now you're going to have to go through and convince all those bulls again that you loooooove them so that you can get the goods. Again.

Don't get me started on how you're going to have to explain not calling them the next day, either. And the empty promises about how you really will call this time. Not to mention how all the bulls will be following you around, staring at you amorously FOREVER. Because you ladder-jumped, of course. We all know that the Ladder Theory is great and true. *sarcasm*

Just FYI, I did the math on how much each shot of Bull Macho Gazpacho costs, and it is $1500. The same as one shot of champion dog juice.

It's not that I don't love you, baby.

I heard on the radio this morning that a completely unscientific radio poll determined that 79% of people who watch The West Wing want Matt Santos- played by Jimmy Smits- to be the next P.O.T.U.S. (President Of The United States). His opponent is played by Alan Alda.

First of all, in a street fight of hotness, Alan Alda kicks the crap out of Jimmy Smits. Twice on Sundays. I don't like Jimmy Smits, and the 1 1/2 dimensional character he plays isn't half as smart, witty, or attractive as Martin Sheen. I don't care if Martin Sheen is old; he's HOT. And Bartlet is a GREAT POTUS. How can a halfwit like Matt Santos- who doesn't seem to understand the function and art of politics- be an effective POTUS? Even a staunch Greenie like me would rather vote for Alan Alda, a *gasp!* Republican, than a halfwit democrat. His character may be sort of evil, but he is SMART. I'd rather have a smart and evil President than Matt "Hi, I trash hotel rooms having kinky sex with my wife and don't think the hotel will leak it to the Press" Santos. Blech.

Santos has the delightful Josh Lyman as his chief of staff, which makes me feel like I'm not being faithful to my Josh by wanting Alan Alda to win. I really shouldn't talk about West Wing, since I've been less than devoted to watching it.

It's not my fault. See, I just don't care about commercial-ridden television. With Netflix, I fast forward through the credits, and I get to watch my shows all the way through. Four episodes at a time, if I fancy it. With commentary, if I'm feeling a little saucy. Clearly, Netflix is superior to live TV. And don't start about Tivo unless you're planning to buy me one. In that case, click the "Contact Me" button and we'll arrange a drop. Wear a black trench coat and carry a violin case. Ask for "Vinnie" at Starbucks. But I digress.

I do watch live TV occasionally, and they've moved West Wing to Sundays. Which conflicts with my new love, CSI. CSI can be watched as individual, independant episodes. West Wing requires a long commitment, marathon-like plotlines, and massive character development. So in this analogy, West Wing is marriage (or a relationship with history), and CSI is a one-night stand. I'm sorry, West Wing, but I've missed at least two seasons between where the DVDs end and you begin. I don't know who half of the people are anymore. What happened to running the U.S. Government? Why is the staff of the whole West Wing running around instead of trading quips in the White House with Bartlet?

Ah, but CSI... I can watch re-runs on Sunday nights, and not be horribly confused. It's a formulaic show: body is found, CSI's show up, Grissom makes a bad joke, and the rest of the episode solving the crime. If you're lucky, Nick Stokes will take off his shirt. But only if you're good. Nobody takes off their shirt on West Wing unless they've been shot.

So, CSI will be my mistress until Season 5 of West Wing is out on DVD (December). But for the time being, I'm with CSI and (as of tomorrow) Law & Order SVU- season 2.

KNIT CONTENT

I knitted a pink/purple/white Baby Albert for Jill. Pictures to be posted once I get the buttons on.