Whew, what a weekend. Friday was dinner and a movie. Both were kind of hokey. But, heck, it was fun.

Saturday I was on a massive errand running binge and didn't get nearly as much accomplished as I would've liked.

Sunday I went house shopping. I don't know what kind of mood I was in, but, pretty much, I liked everything. Now, I just have to decide. Of the 8 houses I saw, 5 of which are definite "maybes." I just need to decide, since they vary by about $10,000 in listed price, span 3 neighbourhoods, and three property tax rates. Thankfully, mom is coming in to save the day and be a second opinion (and her in-the-closet boyfriend, David, is going to be the third opinion). And, at that, the average 30-year mortgage rate is 5.99%, the lowest rate since 1971, when they started tracking it.

I think I will never get to my fitness class on time at 6:30 a.m. This morning, I was so close to being early, right until I got to NASA Rd 1 and realized that I left the shirt and bra I planned on wearing today, in the dryer at home. So, anyway, I had to turn around and drive back to get them (or wear a smelly gym shirt to work), which made me 15 minutes late. I'm habitually tardy, I need to move to Italy, where there's a national pastime of being habitually tardy.

Today was another good day. Because we don't have the "class" portion of our fitness program on Friday's, I got to putter around with Apache an extra 15 minutes before leaving at O'dark'thirty. This was good, because as I took her out for a walk, everyone in the neighbourhood with a dog (and that's a considerable amount of people) was also out walking at 6:15 a.m. (don't ask me why!). This meant we had to stop, sniff, play, pet and otherwise let leashes get tangled up for longer than usual.

Dog tales

Since we're talking about dogs, let's talk about house-breaking. This started when Gavin smirked yesterday that Zoya, he and Jen's new puppy, is already housebroken (or at least hasn't gone in the house in the last 5 days), and they've only had her for about a month, and she's a good 5 months younger than Apache.

Apache hasn't gone in my apartment for MONTHS, except once, when she was sick after coming back from a camping trip. However, she clearly isn't housebroken, since she goes in other people's houses. The running thought (the speculation of my co-workers, one of whom is subject to the worst end of Apache's un-house-brokenness, because they frequently babysit her for me, the other of whom is a self-admitted not-a-dog person but it currently rapidly educating herself on house-breaking using the wonders of the Web) is that I have her on a schedule - I always take her out at certain times (when I wake up in the morning, when I get home from work, and right before I go to bed at 11 p.m.-ish). And she just knows to only go on her schedule. Even though this still doesn't explain why she goes in other people's houses at 8 p.m. or something like that, completely off schedule, I'm willing to accept that theory. My alternate theory is that she is having trouble generalizing the rule not to go in my apartment to "don't go anywhere indoors".

Apparently, according to the advice-givers, she is not housebroken unless she gives me a clear, explicit signal everytime she wants to go out. This is dangerous, because she is a smart puppy in all the wrong ways, and when she learns that when she does something I will always take her out, she will constantly be signaling me, because she loves to go out. But, I agree, it would make things better, and certainly easier if she gave me a signal, so I would like to teach her to do that.

So, last night I tested it by not taking her out. The thought is, if she has to hold it long enough, she will finally go in my apartment, and THEN I catch her, punish her, and it makes her all neurotic, and to avoid punishment, she will find some way to let me know she really has to go out in the future. I was concerned that she would just hold it until her morning walk (as she has for 18 hours in the past). My friends were convinced that she would totally go in the house. What happened was somewhere in between.

She waited until 4 a.m., when she went in my bedroom. She might have tried whining or been in distress before she went, but I was probably so konked, I never noticed. Or, alternatively, she might not have realized what she did was wrong, and just went because she could.

This leaves me in a puppy-quagmire. If I have to wait until 4 a.m. when Apache gets so bad that she absolutely must go out, I certainly won't be awake to punish her when she goes in the house or be awake to notice her signal me that she wants to go out, nor do I want to get her in the routine of going at 4 in the morning. Gr. Damn dog.

Advice from any dog people out there would be greatly appreciated.

This weekend

I don't have plans for tomorrow yet, but I was thinking of going to the Galleria (the big mall) to take advantage of the fall sales and get some new clothes. My wardrobe needs some SERIOUS spiffing up. Sunday is another round of visiting mucho-houses. I should probably also clean up my apartment for my mom and David! Yippee, visitors!

Good morning. Yawn. I decided that I had worked enough hours this week to merit sleeping in an hour. It was nice. Too bad Sarah harrassed me about it, or it would've been perfect. I like messing with my schedule like this once in a while. I feel good today.

Last night's TV rating from the vegetable-couch-potato-for-a-week: Enterprise was so-so; West Wing rocked as usual (all its episodes should be two hours!).

This Philip Pullman book I'm reading is getting darker and darker. I can't believe they call this a children's book! Its more Dark Forest-scary-fairy tale than whimsical-happy. It must be a British thing, they scare them as a child and they grow up to be -- Well, Karen, you'll have to explain it to me!

5:45 a.m. is a REALLY early time in the morning to wake up. Really early. Sometimes I wonder how I ever made it to class in high school (Yes, I know, I missed the bus a lot, and occasionally my morning classes, but still, back in the day I woke up regularly at 5:30 or earlier).

I have been such a vegetable this week. Every night is TV night. I have to evaluate all the season premiers to see which shows I want to obsessively watch. So far, Charmed is getting a so-so, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a definite yes (she's going to be a high school guidance counselor!), and Smallville is a no, and Enterprise is a maybe. Tonight, West Wing and tomorrow is Friends and E.R. How sad is this? Its amazing what a TV addict I've become. But its ok, cause I usually do other things while watching t.v., such as cooking dinner, reading during the commercials (or during the show, for that matter), and playing with my wacked-out dog.

Speaking of Apache, she was weirder than usual last night. She discovered that if I am lying on my stomach reading, I'm usually close enough to the edge of the bed that she can rest her face right next to my book, and look all pathetic, and be directly in my field of view...

So, since we're taking random trains of though, I am reading Phillip Pullman's Dark Matter series. He's a British author, who wrote the series in the mid-90's as children's books (the heroine is an 11 year old girl who lives in Oxford, England). I am really enjoying it, but it would have frightened the daylights out of me as a kid -- its about spooky ground-ups and kidnappers and the supernaturual and traveling between different universes and subatomic physics. Weird.

To sum up this entry: weird books, weird dog, weird tv shows, and weird feeling waking up early.

I went grocery shopping last night and had this strange (almost Swiss) craving for muesli and yougart. Now there's something I would never have thought myself craving. For those of you who don't know, muesli is pretty much a collection of oats (kind of like a cereal form of oatmeal). So, that's what I had for breakfast today. Last night, I attempted to make blackened Mahi Mahi (mmmm, my favorite). It worked pretty well. The grocery store was funny, though. I went at about 8 p.m. and the clerks all looked exhausted. As it turns out, starting at 3 p.m. there was the Florida-esque run on hurricane supplies. The check-out lady said to me "This one woman bought so much bottled water, she could probably fill a swimming pool up with it!"

Ok, that's the food litiny. The sad news is, the house I liked best out of all the ones I saw before is off the market as of this morning. Could be sold, or pending a contract or something. So, now, I don't have that to fall back on. And, the more stressful thing is that there is much less out there than there was 3 weeks ago when I went house shopping last. However will I find the perfect house?

And the good news is, looks like the hurricane is turning away from us. Whoo hoo!

The weekend of bridal showers and beautification

I went to a friend's bridal shower on Saturday. What can I say. It was a bridal shower. Complete with the silly games (though I have to say "toilet paper bride" was tons of fun). There were lots of girls. Ok. That was all of Saturday afternoon.

Saturday morning I took Apache on a nice two hour walk to Starbucks (it probably would have only been 45 minutes had I not stopped along the way to chat with people and not read the NY Times at Starbucks).

Saturday night I went out and randomly splurged and spent money at Barnes and Noble. I bought a book called Who's Who in Hell about a journalist who deals with interoffice politics, and decides to write a book about all the news that is happening in the city that they don't print. I totally bought it because I thought the title was funny and the cover looked cool (I guess today is my superficial day -- read the next paragraphs to understand more).

Sunday was massive beautification treatment day. I got a pedicure (and dragged a happy Sarah along to get her FIRST pedicure). (Pedicure rating: Great and relaxing. Nail polish painting a little sloppy. But after an hour of foot massaging, the nail polish is more like a finishing touch). Then I got a trim. And the stylist blow dried my hair strait. I have NEVER seen it so strait. It did take him the better part of an hour to do it - so the chances of it being repeated in this style are slim to none, unless I want to pay the (very reasonable) $40 to have him do it again.

Now, the humor for the morning is that I decided since I had this done last night, and totally didn't have the opportunity to show it off, I would skip my morning work-out class so I wouldn't ruin my hair. I have every intention to go running this afternoon instead. So Karen and Sarah are MERCILESSLY teasing me for my vanity. Dorks.

Last night I had to ford a river to get home. Really. Something like 5 inches of rain fell within an hour. My little car barely made back.

My mom is coming to help me shop for a house. Yeah!

Happy weekend! I have absolutely no plans whatsoever. I'll pick up my Scotland pictures. Maybe go to the movies or something.

Simple life

I had a lovely morning this morning. I actually woke up early. But instead of rushing to get ready, I read the end of "The Other Boleyn Girl" (an entertaining piece of historical fiction that Karen lent me).

Then, even being late, I went to McDonald's for a greasy hash brown and orange juice. Yum! I pass that McDonald's every day as I leave my apartment complex, and this was the first time I stopped to indulge. I think this was actually the first hash brown I've had since before I departed to Switzerland.

That's my simple life (yeah, right, like anyone would believe my life was simple).

My rant.

Yesterday, Sarah had the nerve to assert that I wasn't an outdoor kind of girl. Obviously she hasn't met any Cutri's to provide a basis for comparison about relative outdoorsiness. Or my dad's friends(henceforth to be called Nanooks of the North) to provide the other end of the spectrum.

If I didn't feel the need to defend myself, I would have laughed at such an assertation. I don't think Sarah could picture the time that I got dropped off (with my dad, his friend, my brother, and a little boy and girl) by a sea plane at a lake that didn't have any roads going to it and the only contact we had with the outside world (for a week!) was two Indians going from one reservation to the other. Or on Outward Bound when the bathroom facilities for the 10 people on a 20 foot open-ketch boat (that means there is no indoor cabin) was a bucket strategically placed on the bow of the boat. (If you don't believe me, see a picture of the boat here). I'm not even going to comment about Morocco. Or the time in college when, by myself, all alone, I went and camped out at an airshow for a few days, and then drove over the northern part of the Great Lakes, camping on the beaches. Not to mention, every trip the two of us have taken together don't exactly coincide to staying in 5-star hotels, and almost always involve some sort of random outdoor activity. I do give her that while we are hiking or biking or whatever, I have been known to complain once or twice. But usually those complaints are focused more on the pace and I wouldn't be complaining at all if I were doing my own thing and not being pushed by external forces -- It doesn't make those trips any less fun or entertaining, if I didn't like them, I wouldn't agree to do them.. Ok, that's my rant.

I woke up this morning bright and early at 6 a.m. for Day 2 of the three-month fitness program I am doing at work. Despite that, I still arrived 10 minutes late (class starts at 6:30 a.m.) because I managed to end up behind about 100 school buses leaving the local high school (where the whole district's buses are stationed).

Then, quite unfortunately, I got a call from the JSC clinic asking me to go in and repeat my blood work. (JSC clinic = mosquitos). So, this will make the number of times JSC has drawn my blood 3 times in 4 months. And they don't just draw blood - they draw 4 vials of blood! Enough to make you faint! Time 1: My standard health screening. Time 2: I asked for a flight physical to renew my FAA medical. They said they couldn't use the lab work from the previous month because it wasn't good enough. Time 3: This afternoon. Why? Because they said that one of my readings was borderline. I couldn't get the nurse to tell me which reading though (over the phone -- when I go in, I'll insist). Does this mean I'm going to die? (Probably not). Does borderline mean I need to change my diet? (Maybe). Does borderline mean its at one of the limits to get my medical renewed? (I hope not! I don't need to battle with the FAA for a waiver too!).

Or, I'm probably over-reacting. One of my co-workers says the clinic has this problem with telling people they are going to die, having them come into repeat tests, and then their being nothing wrong. They probably just contaminated the sample. But 4 vials of blood!!! Ug. I hate giving blood.

I slept for 12 hours last night. And it felt good! Really good! Now, I can truthfully say I am completely "recovered" from our trip to Scotland. Rich, my mentor at work, mentioned to Sarah that we both seemed like we were in a good mood today. That's why vacation is so important!

I'm in an even better mood because yesterday I found out I get a Christmas bonus in my pay check today. Isn't that exciting? Now, you may be curious why I get a Christmas bonus in September. Well, the government's fiscal year ends at the end of September. That's why. And since the government says it is the end of the year, then Christmas MUST be at hand. Ah, I love the logic.

Sarah put up 252 digital pictures of the trip at http://sparky.nique.net/~sarah/scotland/index.htm. If you're curious you can skim through the index and look at the good ones. I'm going to get my pictures printed tonight (I'm so excited to see them!). Eventually, I'll add a narrative page about the trip and include the best pictures, so if you don't feel like looking at Sarah's page, well, you'll just have to be patient.

I'm in such a good mood today, even George Bush is making me laugh instead of bury my head in embarrassment. His staff has been very saavy dealing with their boss's limited intellect (oh, what a great speech-writer I would make!). Bush's speeches always have cute little single-syllable colloquial expressions that the media can grab onto and use as a headline or sound bite (i.e. "Wanted, Dead or Alive","You have awakened a sleeping giant", etc.). Anyway, today's soundbite is: Saadam is "playing rope-a-dope with the world". He he he. How silly! It makes me glad that Bush's speeches are geared towared 5-year-olds. That means the average America can understand what's going on. Too bad the average American doesn't pay enough attention to the news to hear the idiot-quotes. But at least it provides me with regular entertainment. Until Bush's quotes, I didn't think the media could dumb themselves down any more, but I guess they still can. I'm sure G.W. has some Yale Ph.D. on his staff that we can blame for lowering the bar with each and every speech. Isn't it ironic?

I'm back safe and sound. Later on I will update you with more details than you ever wanted to know about our trip. It was fun. Highlights included:

- Many Old Piles of Rock (castles, cathedrals, 5000 year old prehistoric villages, standing stones)

- Karen, Sarah and I piling into a Nissan Micra (the LPC!) for hours at a time and NOT killing each other (amazing what not having a senior design deadline will do to improve friendships!)

- Hairy cows, sheep, ponies, and border collies

- Smashing cliffs, waves, water of the North Sea, the Loch Ness (no monster, though!), etc.

- Souvenir shops of post cards, stuffed Loch Ness monsters (Nessie), golf toys, and one Lex Luther-looking-bald Australian that described a globe Christmas ornament as a "round, ball thing with a map on it that can hang".

Oh, and from my email today:

Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?

I'm back safe and sound. Later on I will update you with more details than you ever wanted to know about our trip. It was fun. Highlights included:

- Many Old Piles of Rock (castles, cathedrals, 5000 year old prehistoric villages, standing stones)

- Karen, Sarah and I piling into a Nissan Micra (the LPC!) for hours at a time and NOT killing each other (amazing what not having a senior design deadline will do to improve friendships!)

- Hairy cows, sheep, ponies, and border collies

- Smashing cliffs, waves, water of the North Sea, the Loch Ness (no monster, though!), etc.

- Souvenir shops of post cards, stuffed Loch Ness monsters (Nessie), golf toys, and one Lex Luther-looking-bald Australian that described a globe Christmas ornament as a "round, ball thing with a map on it that can hang".

Oh, and from my email today:

Born in 1963, You are possibly the original colossal death robot, being one of the patriarchs of the current crop, and definitely an advocate of old-skool enemy-bashing. Why use a clumsy particle weapon when you can create supernovas just by flexing your arms? Your one minor weakness is that you are entirely dominated by some kid with a remote contol - still, don't let it get you down. You can sink a nuclear submarine with jazz music.
Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?

Goodbye America!

I'm leaving one rainy, windy place (courtesy of Tropical Storm Faye) for another (that doesn't need no-stickin' tropical storm to have extreme weather and still wear skirts...um, kilts, in it!)

I collected Scottish Quotations to keep you entertained for the week I'm gone - so, for the two of you who read my diary every day, PACE YOURSELF!

"I look upon Switzerland as an inferior sort of Scotland." -Sydney Smith (1771–1845), British clergyman

"The “second sight” possessed by the Highlanders in Scotland is actually a foreknowledge of future events. I believe they possess this gift because they don’t wear trousers...That is also why in all countries women are more prone to utter prophecies" - G.C. (Georg Christoph) Lichtenberg (1742–1799), German physicist

"I ... walked to the Abbey of Holyroodhouse once to the Palace itself, once to the crown of Scotland above the gate in front, and once to the venerable old Chapel. I next stood in the court before the Palace, and bowed thrice to Arthur Seat, that lofty romantic mountain on which I have so often strayed in my days of youth and felt the raptures of a soul filled with ideas of the magnificence of God and his creation. Having thus gratified my agreeable whim and superstitious humour, I felt a warm glow of satisfaction." -James Boswell (1740–1795), Scottish author

"No more tears now; I will think upon revenge." -Mary Stuart (1542–1587), Scottish monarch

"You have sensible women here [in England] but then, they are very devils—censorious, uncharitable, sarcastic—the women in Scotland have twice—thrice their freedom, with all their virtue—and are very conversable and agreeable—their educations are more finished." -Frances Burney (1752–1840), British author

"Neighboring farmers and visitors at White Sulphur drove out occasionally to watch ‘those funny Scotchmen’ with amused superiority; when one member imported clubs from Scotland, they were held for three weeks by customs officials who could not believe that any game could be played with ‘such elongated blackjacks or implements of murder.'" -For the State of West Virginia, U.S. public relief program

"What a fog! Plane been buzzin’ around overhead for the last half hour. Must be like trying to find your way through the inside of a cow. I never did see such a country. Even the birds are walkin’." -Dalton Trumbo (1905–1976), U.S. screenwriter (complaining about the weather at an airfield in Scotland)

And quotes from Groundskeeper Willy, of Simpsons fame...

"There's nary an animal alive that can outrun a greased Scotsman."

Willy: Eek! I mean, ach! I mean ... what are you doin' here?

Homer: Uh, buh, buh, we're new foreign exchange students from ...
uh, um ... Scotland!

Willy: Saints be praised, I'm from Scotland! Where do ya hail
from?

Homer: Uh ... North ... Kilttown.

Willy: No foolin'! I'm from North Kilttown! Do you know Angus
McCloud?

Homer: Wait a minute! There's no Angus McCloud in North
Kilttown! Why, you're not from Scotland at all!

Willy: Ach, don't be daft. I was born and rai ... [notices the
hose] Hey, what the? [gasps] My retirement grease! No!
You thievin' grease bandits! I'll kill ya! [Homer and
Bart make their escape through the ventilation ducts] Wait
up!

And back to normal quotes...

Wealth, I ask not, hope nor love,

Nor a friend to know me,

All I ask is the heaven above

And the road below me. -Robert Lewis Stevenson



"How Wallace fought for Scotland, left the name

Of Wallace to be found, like a wild flower,

All over his dear Country; left the deeds

Of Wallace, like a family of ghosts,

To people the steep rocks and river banks,

Her natural sanctuaries, with a local soul

Of independence and stern liberty." - William Wordsworth



And my favorite, the "Address to a Haggis", by Robert Burns:


Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy of a grace

As lang's my arm.



The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin wad help to mend a mill

In time o' need,

While thro' your pores the dews distil

Like amber bead.



His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An' cut ye up wi' ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, rich!



Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:

Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve

Are bent like drums;

Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

"Bethankit!" hums.



Is there that owre his French ragout,

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad make her spew

Wi' perfect sconner,

Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view

On sic a dinner?



Poor devil! see him owre his trash,

As feckless as a wither'd rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,

His nieve a nit;

Thro' bluidy flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!



But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll make it whissle;

An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned

Like taps o' thrissle.



Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o' fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware,

That jaups in luggies;

But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,

Gie her a Haggis!

Last night Sarah and I went to Gavin's and made quesadillas. It makes me laugh how Sarah complains about how clueless she is about cooking, but then succeeds at it anyway. Actually, she's not that clueless, she just lacks confidence. But its funny none-the-less. Ok, maybe she is a little clueless, but she'll figure it out.

So, I've run out of Scottish poems that I know. I do in fact know a few more. But either they are dark and disturbing -- or they are naughty limricks. I also don't know any Scottish poets besides Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott, so things might get repetative. Today, I've settled for the Scottish national anthem (well, unofficially, at least).

Flower of Scotland


O Flower of Scotland

When will we see