Celebrating November 1

When I was a kid, Halloween was excitement. It was costumes and candy and possibilities. You didn't know what you'd get where, and all the costumed people could be anyone. It was safely scary.

As an adult, although I've dressed up the last few years (due to a combination of a costume-friendly workplace and owning a good perpetual costume), I haven't celebrated in any real sense. I don't have kids. I live in a building without kids, and no one knocks on our doors (one building, five doors on various sides, no one knows how to handle it). It's a candy holiday.

And if you're celebrating it as a candy holiday, the real celebration is November first, which by the way is also:

• All Souls Day
• Day of the Dead
  
• the birthday of Al Arbour and Tie Domi (have to get the hockey in somehow)
• World Vegan Day
• the wedding anniversary of my friends J and J: happy 5th, guys!
• the day that Halloween candy is 50% off

Thus, for $6.26:


Two bags of Ghirardelli Caramel Squares, in haunted packaging, 50% off plus I had a $1 coupon: $1.98
One bag of Mounds minis: $2.00
Two bags of Heath snack size: $2.28


Mmm. If I'm going to be depressed about life in general (seriously, when is something big and good going to happen?), chocolate is the way to go.

The good old baseball game

Let me say first that I had a good time at the game; second, that the Spinners lost (10-3, not even close); third, that it was hot, very hot; and fourth, that it made a much later night than I'm used to. That covers most of the non-picture-specific part, unless you have questions.

No? On with the show! And I do mean show.

The monster truck outside the stadium should have given me a hint of what was to come (i.e., spectacle).


The view from our seats. Look, ma, no zoom!


I really don't know what that guy was doing to his shirt collar, though.

There was a kids "game" before the main event. So cute!


Really, the only thing cuter happened later, and I didn't get a picture of it, since I was laughing too hard. At one point in the game, they had a little kid who was going to "race" two of the mascots around the bases for some prize. Mascots and little boy take off from near first, the mascots making a valiant effort to look like they're trying to beat the kid while actually not trying at all, and then, as they got near second, the kid turned ... right. Yes, he started off into the outfield. He was a little guy, perhaps he didn't understand the concept of running around the bases as it pertained to, um, the bases? Everyone was laughing, the mascots were kind of running in place and randomly falling over to avoid getting a lead, and one of the organizers jogged out after him, and ran the rest of the way with him, holding his hand.

Anyway, back to pre-game. The players did a rather odd (to me) synchronized warm-up thing that involved hopping. Seriously.


Knitters in the next section, and the one beyond that!


My traitorous camera focused on the baseball, not the sock. Does it not know me at all?


Really, you haven't lived until you've seen someone in a toothbrush suit running the bases. Of all the many, many, many promotions they had (seriously, does no one go to watch the baseball?), this was the strangest.


By far.

This struck me as odd because it was near the end of the game. It was either 9-3 or 10-3, but there are the players, leaning forward and watching like it's a cliffhanger. Um?


Also, can you read the sign? "No autographs during the game. Players are working." Yeah. Un-huh.

And that's baseball! We discussed maybe doing it again. I would vote for a Friday night or weekend game; getting up this morning was even less fun than usual, not to mention how the cats felt about it.

We could also go to a hockey game. It's a bit more compatible with knitting, I think (though in fact I got about three inches of sock done yesterday, which pleases me). We'll see.

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Even the smoothest and most peaceable day, which today was not, would quiver under the combined strain of "far too little sleep" and "PMS". But I was a little surprised at myself when, out of the blue this afternoon, I suddenly thought, Jelly Belly. I could buy some after work. That would be good.

I wasn't surprised because of any anti-Jelly Belly feeling, just that after months without them crossing my mind, they were what my subconscious dredged up for comfort. Isn't the subconscious an interesting place?

A blog quiz hurt my feelings

Yes, as mentioned before, I can be absurdly oversensitive (number five). And when I say this quiz hurt my feelings, I don't mean I'm going to cry myself to sleep about it. However, my mouth may have dropped open upon seeing the results. Sigh. I am such a child. Apparently.

Another blog I read, Book Trout, posted about his results in The Blog Readability Test. He was a little surprised, but in a good way, that his blog was rated at Genius reading level.

Now, I enjoy a little meaningless blog quiz as much as the next blogger, and probably more than some. What is my regional accent, what movie character am I, whatever, it can be fun. Over I clicked, and plugged in my blog's name.

And?



Really?

Elementary?

Don't I use enough big words? I would have said I did...

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I don't blog for two days and I feel like I've missed telling you a lot. (I missed you. Did you miss me? You missed a lot of whining, at least.) I did, in fact, finish the first sock on Monday night. Sound the trumpets!


However, despite doing my best to cast off loosely, the top edge is a little uncomfortable. I think I'll be ripping out the bind-off and a row or two, and binding off even more loosely. I did bind off over two needles, but I think if I use a larger needle, I'll be even happier with the result. And I am pretty happy with it as is!

Plus, I like the way the edge ruffles.


It did that all by itself. Isn't it clever?

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Here's something I wanted to share, since I get the feeling most of you aren't necessarily hockey fans, and I don't know that they play this during anything but hockey games. It's a commercial from the NHL, and what I like is how they've put together scenes from many different games, different eras, kids, pond hockey, but managed to make the flow look like it's continuous action and only the camera angle is changing.



I like the music, too.

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The other thing I've been doing while I was not blogging for a whole 48 hours? Look what I found at Target:


It's an experiment. I thought perhaps, having eaten many, many of these over the course of a week, if I can just get to the "enough" point, I could be cured.

And you know the best part? Aside from eating them, of course? Look what's on the back:


All the little flavors. I can try to guess whether I'm about to eat peanut or caramel apple. I am in serious danger of conducting geeky experiments with flavors, because really, what's the taste difference between Lemon and Lemon Drop? Strawberry Daiquiri and Strawberry Jam? Stay tuned...

Of food, healthy (ish) and not so

Or, real food and candy


I want to thank Annie's Eats for this simple and delicious recipe, which I have now made twice. The only thing I don't love about it is that you dirty three pans (making the "sauce", preparing the pasta, and then baking the whole thing), since I'm a big fan of one-dish cooking (and thus clean-up). However, in this case it's worth it, as the result is delicious, it makes plenty, and it reheats perfectly. I love leftovers! And if I just exert my willpower (ha), and wash the first two dishes while the meal is baking, I don't have a full counter of dirties when I'm done. Score!

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My plan to comfort myself for the neverendingness of winter by being more relaxed about eating continues. Today was actually decent weather, with a brisk wind taking some of the nice out of the mid-50s temperature, but still with lots of sun. I heart the sun! I'm trying to not over-overeat, but several people at work brought in excess Easter candy, including in one case Jelly Bellys, and can I eat those! Mmm. I've eaten too many, for sure. And of course, I went to their website to see what all the flavors are. (I wanted to put the pictures here, but it's too wide for the page, and after a few minutes of tinkering, I concede defeat. Go looky, come back to discuss.)

It makes me want to taste-test the lot. How different are strawberry cheesecake and strawberry daiquiri? What about cafe latte and cappuccino? There are some I don't particularly like, and some I kind of like, and about a dozen that I really like. Mmm, sweet.

What about you? Favorite flavors? Or is something else your preferred method of falling off the food-willpower wagon?

Am I blue? Oh, I wish

I am gray. Dull beige. Sand. Off-white. I want to be blue (sky) and yellow (sunny). But I am not.

(Warning: this post is going to be full of complaining, while I am fully aware that I have very, very little to really complain about in my life. If that sort of things annoys you, I advise you not to read on. I won't blame you a bit, and I hope you come back another day. Pick a sunny one, and you won't even recognize me. Thanks.)

If you've read certain of my posts from last Spring (or pre-Spring), you may remember that waiting for nice weather is not something I'm much good at, by winter's end. Now put that together with the true horribleness of this winter, with its near-constant snow, rain, gray skies, cold, etcetera ad infinitum, and you'll get an idea of where I'm going with this.

I've been feeling blah the last few days. It's that waiting-to-get-sick feeling when you just don't feel quite right, but you're not sick either, but you just know it's coming. Only it isn't really a physical feeling, but an emotional one.

Perhaps I need a light box? Would that help? But then the $300 charge on my credit card wouldn't cheer me up any. (I'm sure you can get cheaper ones; I used that as my example because Miss Conduct linked to it in recommending the light box her husband uses.)

So, despite the supposed-to-be-self-descriptive name of the Eat Less, Exercise More Plan, I am putting the Eat Less part on hold for right now. I am going to continue to exercise, because I don't think that's making anything worse, but right now eating is about all I have*, and I am taking myself off the hook for it.

*I do still have the kitties for fuzz therapy, of course. But snuggling up with Pan can involve noticing how fast his heart is beating, how hard it's working, even when he's relaxed, and that leads to Seriously Unhappy Thoughts. Holding Harold tends to make me wonder how he and I will do without Pan. It's hard to ward those thoughts off, perhaps more so when I am already depressed.

I am not granting myself permission to eat a pint of ice cream a day, but I am going to allow some crap into my diet and not feel guilty about it. For heaven's sake, desperate times call for desperate measures: I looked at the 10-day forecast, and there is one sunny day on it. One! And the highs range from 35 to 47 degrees. The highs! (And then, because I am just that stupid, I looked at the weather in Florida, and almost cried. Jealous much? Glutton for punishment, much? Why did I look?)

This calls for chocolate. (And Peeps.) Mama, your timing is impeccable as always:



I feel better already.

Monday, monday

This morning was such a Monday, wasn't it?

Not just literally; I mean, I know it really was Monday. Every Monday has a Monday morning, but some of them are what gave Monday morning their reputation, and I had one of those. Too tired to get up, headache, not enough cereal for a full bowl, then I spilled something nasty on the floor ... on my beautiful hardwood floor ... what a Monday (I didn't handle it too well, but in my defense, PMS is also a factor). I had to stop at CVS and buy some Easter candy at 50% off for consolation. For the sake of fitting into my summer clothes, it's a good thing we're waving good-bye to the last of the major candy holidays for a while. Still, Russell Stover* improved my mood considerably, and between that and the medication, the headache went down to barely there for most of the day. Not a great day, but still. I did hear that the charity auction at work raised something like $900, which is great news, and I'm glad to have had some small part in that (and it was small, but hey, every dollar counts).

*a couple of caramel eggs, a "carton" of marshmallow eggs, and yes, I shared

Now, the time has come to wrap up Saturday's Bruins Experience. Not that I won't write about hockey again, but the Bruins' 06-07 season is done, the players were cleaning out their lockers today, and other than the draft the team won't have much news until fall (possibly awards, Kessel's up for the Masterton, at least, but I'll be lucky indeed if that's televised here in the godless south [i.e., south of Canada], and perhaps contract signings, but overall not too much going on). I may watch other playoff games: I'm primarily a Bruins fan, but when the Bruins are either doing well, or are out of the picture altogether, I'm a hockey fan more generally. It's actually more relaxing when I'm not as emotionally involved. Other than when Ray Bourque and Colorado won the Cup, if Boston wasn't involved I've never really cared who won*, so I can just enjoy the games. It's nice.

*Sometimes I cared who lost, if it was a team that eliminated the Bruins. It's like the baseball t-shirt says: I root for two teams, the Red Sox and whoever beats the Yankees. They need to do one of those for hockey; I'd buy one that said, I root for two teams, the Bruins and whoever beats the Canadiens.

Unlike Saturday. I mean, I did have a good time, just not a bouncing, excited, isn't this great time. They lost 6-3, in case you didn't know. And deservedly so. Bergeron had 2 assists, and also won the John P. Bucyk Award before the game; we got to see the local awards handed out, so that was a nice thing. And, a surprise guest, Ray Bourque was there:


introducing his niece, who sang the Canadian National Anthem (and very well, too). So that was nice! We were also in great seats (this is with no zoom, by the way):


which was very nice (via friends of my parents, thanks again!). Pro sports are so expensive these days, I'm used to the nosebleed seats, and boy, if I win the lottery (note to self, buy a ticket), season tickets are on the shopping list. Good seats, like these. Although if I could not be sitting next to ... ummm ... how to put it ... a person of size, who had been drinking quite a bit, whose ideas of personal space differed considerably from mine ... that would be more comfortable. Although he wasn't screaming constant abuse at the players or officials, or spilling his beer on me, or doing any one of a number of things that I'm sure could have been even worse than what he was. No picture of him, certainly!

Actually, most of the pictures I took were during warm-ups, and aren't exactly photos of mass appeal: a lot of similarity to them. It was a fun evening, but in the end a little depressing. The team changed the GM, coaching staff, and about three-quarters of the players, and finished a whopping 2 points ahead of last year. Didn't qualify for the playoffs. Lost 10 of their last 12 games. What a lot of energy I poured into rooting for them this year. (More than the team showed on the ice Saturday night, may I say.) All for this, exactly the same nothing as last year, as so many recent years.

Before the game Saturday, they played a video montage of Bruins history, which was great, then of this season, and they must have pulled just about every goal, every save, every hit of the season to fill the time. It wasn't that long.

Anyway, before I depress myself completely, I'll focus on something small instead (t-shirt of the day: They say I have ADD, but they just don't understand ... oh look, a chicken!). Going to the arena today is different in some ways from when I was a kid, and the same in others. The scoreboard looks different (am I at the movies?):


But they still don't have the game clock and the penalty clock synchronized, so you can watch them count down out of sync, which always seemed stupid to me then. Today? Ridiculous.

On the other hand, the Garden does not blow one of those hideous air horns or flash strobe lights when the home team scores, and I approve of that. I hate those things with the passion of a burning sun, even if it's for my team. Too loud! Too bright! Stop!

Of course, the announcer does wind up the announcement of a goal scored with a loud "Woo!" But no one's perfect.

Seasonally inappropriate

If the right candy for the time of year was candy canes instead of jelly beans ...

Or if I didn't have to leave the house ...

Or at least if someone else (elves?) cleared my car off ...

...it might be considered pretty. As it is, though, I'm not enamoured.

This was driving home last night (I mean, I was stopped when I took the photo, though):


And these were this morning:


Speaking of clearing the snow off the car, it always amazes me how many people don't bother. And then they're driving down the highway and {wham} flying snowballs trail behind them, which is potentially quite dangerous. Who do they think they are?

The sun did spend some time out today, some melting happened, but there's still white stuff out there, and I don't want to think about it! (My star sign is Ostrich.) Let's talk about something else. Candy!

Specifically, Peeps. I saw something very troubling at Target this week. Have you seen the red Peeps? They are so very wrong. I say this as someone who likes Peeps, by the way, within certain constraints that have nothing to do with the taste (I like the taste, once a year, and I like them best of all about two days after the package is opened).

In general, let me begin by saying, the Red Peep issue goes far beyond my own personal belief that Peeps are Supposed to be either pink, or yellow: not blue, not purple, not green, etcetera. Pink, or yellow. They are Supposed to be shaped like bunnies, or chicks. I am a bit of a traditionalist in some things (stop laughing, mother), and I feel strongly about this. I can in fact riff for minutes at a time about why this should be (or shouldn't be, depending on which way the question is posed).

But the red ones are a whole separate fruit altogether. Apparently they're exclusive to Target, by the way, and I must say I think Tar-jay let the whole "red is our color" idea go to their heads in this case. These are Peeps only vampires could find attractive (yes, I know vampires don't eat food*, let alone marshmallows; work with me here). Red Peeps are severely Wrong in ways not previously imagined (although I did find myself imagining Edward holding a Peep to his mouth, inserting fangs, and lowering a handful of red sugar-dust. Disturbing).

*If you read books from different authors that feature vampires or other other-worldly creatures, have you noticed that they all put their own spin on the folklore? Which means that I'll be reading one and trying to remember, in this world, can vampires see themselves in mirrors? Can were-creatures change shape more than once in a night? Is this a world where there's synthetic blood or not? It does get confusing. And then there's Laurell Hamilton's Anita Blake series, which is great but so very character-rich that it can get confusing: who's this guy again? Do we like him, do we trust him? I actually found myself contemplating making a spreadsheet: "John Doe. Were-rat. First appears in Blue Moon. Friendly." "Jane Smith. Human. First appears in Narcissus in Chains. Neutral, then betrays Anita." Something like that. I haven't made it (yet), but I may, someday, in that mythical land when I have time on my hands. Certainly not before I have a new computer, though. Okay, back to the big type.

The other news in Peep world wasn't quite as disturbing, but it did cause a double-take. Bunny-shaped, kind of beige-colored or light brown, but then I saw the word "Cocoa" on the package. Chocolate Peeps? Very interesting. I didn't buy any, but I think I'll see if I can find any in clearance after Easter. Got to try them, right? Chocolate + marshmallow = how bad could it be?