Nothing Interesting To Say, Part 1 (Czech Republic Edition)

So I can't really think of anything terribly interesting to report at this point, so I thought I would share a picture and a question with you all.



Here's the view from my hotel "mini balcony" (which is just big enough for two feet and an ashtray-- already provided-- so very European!)





Fascinating stuff, right?



And now on to my question-- which incidentally is in no way related to the above picture:

Does anyone know what "Steak from Chicken Legs" is?

Procrastination is an Art

It is that time again-- time for me to be packing for a work trip.....and yet what am I doing? Well, other than laundry....nothing productive. So, in the spirit of doing anything and everything but what I should be doing....I present to you a list of random facts about the last few days:

*Yesterday morning when I was walking out to my car a bird fell like a rock out of tree about 6 inches in front of me. That, understandably, made me yelp. It wasn't until that same bird tried to fly up my skirt that I really shrieked.

*Today at lunch I randomly remembered the time in 5th grade when I found our class pet, a Guinea Pig named Snowball, dead in his cage. And then our teacher decided to truly make it an educational experience by bringing a vet in THAT afternoon to dissect Snowball in front of the class. I didn't excuse myself to go to the nurse until the vet broke out his little teensy saw and started sawing the skull open so we could see the brain. Looking back on the story as an adult-- I wonder several things:

1. What was the thought process that led our teacher to the belief that the best way to help a bunch of 5th graders deal with the death of a beloved class pet would be to watch the aforementioned pet be systematically dismembered and gutted?

2. Where on earth did she find a vet that would come in at the last minute like that and bring his tools along so as to be able to better traumatize young children?

3. Would a teacher today be able to do something like that without getting in trouble?

4. What did our baby Guinea Pig, Joey, think about the whole thing?



*If any of you doubt me on the above story, Heather can back me up. She was there too!

*Matt Damon has agreed to do a 4th Bourne movie. I am happy. This is all.


*Jon Stewart is officially the most awesome Oscar host EVER for letting Markita Irglova give her acceptance speech for "Falling Slowly" from Once after the stupid orchestra dude cut her off.


*Random question of the day: Since when can "Fran" be a boy name? Did I miss that memo?

The Unknown Kryptonite! (This post is for the girls!)

As some of you know (and are highly amused by), I've had a bit of a problem over the years while making the occasional trip to Super Walmart. I seem to have a strange ability to draw attention from the sort of men who sometimes feel compelled to, uhm, well, let's say they like to compliment me. (And if you think I'm bragging about that fact with this post, well then, you just need to have faith that these aren't the guys you really WANT complimenting you and leave it at that).

I'm positive I'm not the only woman who has had this problem over the years-- and tonight I realized something amazing-- something very freeing. There is apparently one special thing that can render you totally invisible to all men-- even the creepy ones!!

So what is this miracle phenomenon, you wonder?

Drum roll please...............



BRAIDS!!!






On second thought-- maybe it was the crazy look on my face. Mental note: From now always take the braids AND the crazy face!

I am an Addict and Masterpiece Theater is My Dealer

It is time for another true confession. For the past month, I have been a complete glutton. And what has been my poison, you ask? It was just over a month or so ago that PBS started "The Complete Jane Austen". That's right-- once a week they have been delivering a new version of each of Austen's novels on Masterpiece Theater. The main exception to that so far seems to be that they are reshowing the classic version of Pride and Prejudice instead of a new one. (But really, when you have Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy for 6 hours, why on earth would you bother filming ANOTHER mini-series? )

My point is this-- it's set me on a binge. Once a week is now not enough. I'm rereading the novels (again). I'm watching the movie versions that I own too. And just now? PBS really pulled a low blow-- they showed a MONTAGE of the scenes from the new movies they are playing to the soundtrack of COLDPLAY. Evil! They are EVIL GENIUSES!!

So why? Why does she suck me in so much? It's so cliche to be a woman and obsessed with Jane Austen. I mean, they made an entire movie about THAT too!

But I can't help it. Jane Austen is crack.

Happy Day Before The Day After the 14th Day of The Second Month of 2008

I'm starting to wonder if the world is tiring of celebrating the day before the day after the 14th Day of the second month of the year. Usually Carol the front desk receptionist at work is buried behind a mountain of flowers and chocolate. But today? Not so much. And it leaves me to ponder if people's attachment to the middle of February is waning.

Cloverfield: The Lesson?

I saw Cloverfield this weekend with my friend Andrew. It was an interesting combination of entertaining and traumatizing. The most unexpected reaction I had to it, though, was laughter.....and that was because I couldn't help but notice that the moral of the story seems to be this:

For some men, the only way they can get in touch with their emotions and admit they might be in love is for them to be caught in the center of a massive attack on New York City by a monster of unknown origins. Nothing says romance like immanent death!

Andrew didn't seem as amused as I was by my observation.

Back to Nature

I thought I would share a couple of pictures from my trip to prove that Cheryl and I took our "we're not going to care what we look like while climbing Mayan ruins in the rain forest" philosophy quite seriously.


This picture is shortly before I climbed the insanely tall and steep ruin behind me




This picture is shortly after I finally made my way back down---not very gracefully. You can't see my legs, but they were shaking....kind of pathetic, actually.

Belize It Or Not

Yes, the title is unfortunate, but I just couldn't help myself.

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving for a long weekend away (is this what the Brits call a "mini break"?). I'm super excited because I have no earthly idea what to expect, but I'm landing in Belize City in the afternoon (knock on wood) and we'll take it from there!

I've decided this is as opportune a moment as any other to tell my friends and family something I've been meaning to say for some time. You know, just in case I get kidnapped into the jungle or eaten by a crocodile or die of fright when I think I see a shark that really turns out to be a swimming cow (you don't want to know).

Anyhoo.

I'm leaving and I just want you all to know something very important: please, if something dramatic and/or newsworthy happens to me while I'm gone.....can you just make sure that the news media has a decent picture of me? I don't mean to be vain, but has anyone else noticed that whenever something happens to people, the pictures of them up at CNN or MSNBC are always completely dreadful? Who is in charge of this process?

Yes, I realize this is stupid and inconsequential in the long run.....but I would really rather people think "Oh, that's so sad. Look at those freckles, she was so cute! And young! She had the world in front of her!" as opposed to "Oh, that's so sad. But look at those bags under her eyes. And why is she scowling like that? Oh well. No wonder she was single."

I'm not unreasonable. My main requests are as follows:

1. No senior pictures (yes, at this point they are INCREDIBLY dated, but I feel this needs to be said as my mother has shown an irrational attachment to them)

2. No bridesmaid pictures (this needs no explaining)

3. No pictures of me looking at the camera with a "why are you taking that?" expression

4. No pictures of me scowling off into space and/or looking blankly off into space (again, my mother has shown a propensity for taking this type of photo....of course she might argue that this is what I'm doing 90% of the time so what else is she supposed to take a picture of....but she would be lying....I'm sure I must smile off into space SOMETIMES)

See? Not so hard. And if you all help me out, I won't have to haunt anyone. Everyone wins.

(and for those of you who are wondering and don't know-- yes, I have always been this morbid)

Wii Be Sore

So my intention for the last few days has been to write a post detailing my objections to a new and dangerous game being played by America...to warn you all about the lurking danger that you may never see coming. That's right, I'm talking about the Nintendo Wii


I may have spent a Friday evening a week or so ago basking in my new found athletic prowess......I might have felt I was so advanced and in shape because I managed to beat a 7 year old and a 9 year old in subsequent boxing matches (though my niece might never forgive me if I didn't interrupt myself at this point to tell you that she "didn't try her hardest")......and I may have been so proud of myself when I bowled a somewhat adequate game on my first try......and there may have been a surge of pride when I manage to hit a bullseye with a digital tennis ball. I may have experienced all those things, but you know what I definitely felt the next day? SORE. Horribly, horribly sore. Ridiculously sore. My arms wanted to fall off sore.

And so I was all prepared to write you all a warning post with your best interests in mind. I wanted to save you all the trials and tribulations faced by me. And then something happened.

I went to brunch yesterday with two friends (what? I can go to brunch every now and then) and they were telling me all about how the Nintendo Wii has become ALL the rage at the local retirement village. They have one on every floor. The residents have tournaments and love it.

So this is me NOT writing a post telling you all about the dangers of the Nintendo Wii-- because then I would have to admit I am apparently the oldest 30 year old on the planet.

Consider yourself not warned.

A Belated Christmas Present Part One

I bring you a window into Christmas Past (2005ish) and some of my favorite Christmas clips ever

Take One




Take Two: A Few Moments Later

Happy New Years Day

I would like to dedicate this post to everyone who is willing to acknowledge the fact that New Years Eve is just NOT as exciting as everyone pretends that it is.

Fun For the Directionally Challenged

Merry Day After Christmas Everyone!

I got many wonderful presents this year from many wonderful people (I could go on about my new flannel sheets at this point, but then you would just want to know where they are from and then I would just have to lie to you given the topic of my previous post....)-- However, what I am going to share with you today has to do with this little guy:




That's right, folks.....I am now the proud owner of a Garmin GPS thingy-bopper (that's the technical name, right?). I've only test driven it (literally) once-- on the drive home from KS yesterday. It didn't start out well because as I was pulling out of McPherson, it was giving me very clear, precise directions on how to get out of Kansas City. One phone call to my sister (who then asked Stephen) gave me the critical clue that I had not extended the flap on the back of it thus activating the actual GPS system. (details, details). Once we agreed on my actual location-- my Garmin and I hit it off quite nicely.

You might think that the promise of never being lost might have impressed me most....or the option of finding any kind food joint that fits my fancy at any given location.....or even the ability to play MP3s and audio books to my heart's content....but no. I'm much easier than that.

I am in love with my Garmin because I have the option of being given my directions by a cute Australian guy (ok, I don't know if he's cute or not...but he's Australian and he knows where he's going....so how bad can he be?) or by a bookish yet attractive British fellow (again-- I'm filling in the lines with the "bookish yet attractive" bit-- so sue me). But the bottom line is this-- I can pick what sexy accent I want to listen to! Daily!

I love technology.

An Open Letter to Land's End

Dear Land's End,

Over the years we've had some good times together. You've provided me with several nice jackets that were just as water-proof as you promised, shoes that carried me through Ireland, flannel sheets that made it very hard to get out of bed in the morning.....the list really does go on and on. You've been a good friend, but we need to talk. Our relationship has taken an ugly turn lately. I don't know how else to put this-- so I'll just tell it to you straight. The truth is, you've gotten needy......really REALLY needy.

It seems that not a day goes by that I don't get some sort of new catalog from you in the mail. Monday I got your bedding catalog. Tuesday came your Christmas wish list catalog. Wednesday was a blockbuster day that brought both your men's ware catalog AND your kid's catalog. Thursday things were looking up since I didn't hear from you, but then Friday came. Friday brought 3 catalogs, but honestly I can't even tell you what they were because in my anger I threw them all in the trash before even glancing at them.

Is it possible? Does ANYONE buy enough from you to justify THAT many catalogs? Is there that great a need for waterproof fabics and flannels in this world? Doesn't everyone probably just shop your online catalog anyway? I hate to call you a stalker-- but dude, the shoe is starting to fit. Maybe you're just feeling insecure because of that Eddie Bauer catalog that came last week....but you should take a cue from him. Eddie plays it much cooler than you-- he only sends me catalogs once every couple of weeks. He's luring me in by playing hard to get.

I would say that it's not you, it's me....but well, that's not true. It IS you, Land's End. You and your paper usage are out of control. It is time to do a little more soul searching and a little less tree chopping. Think it over and pull yourself together. Nobody likes desperation.

Maybe after some time apart, we can rediscover what brought us together in the first place.

Sincerely,

Sarah

I Don't Know If This Will Amuse Anyone Else

But here are the top Google searches that apparently lead people to my blog:

1. "How to be mysterious"

No real surprise here......but finally proof that I am not the only one who "secretly" WANTS to be mysterious! I just never thought to google it.

2. "Two Ways to Travel"

I don't even know what this means

3. "Dorky Men"

This one might be my favorite. I just can't decide WHO is googling dorky men. Is it the dorky men or is it the women who love them?

4. "English Majors are Weird"

Clearly, these people have an agenda. I guess I am proving them right?

5. "What car has manly horns"

See! See??? I am not the only person stuck with a girlie, no-good car horn! Sadly, there are no answers to be found here.

6. "Purple Rock Types"

I don't even remember that I've written anything about my purple rock on here, but I guess I have.

7. "10 Things Not To Get A Girl For Christmas"

It's a seasonal google search!

Question of the Day

Hypothetically speaking, just how concerned should you be if you are (gently) told by a 7 year old that you have too much makeup on?

Hypothetically.

Dream of the Future

So sometime in the next year I will most likely be buying a new (to me) car. I've started trying to think about what I want in that car, and here's what I've come up with so far:

1. An intimidating (dare I say "manly"?) car horn. I'm really tired of getting almost run off the road by someone and having my only recourse be to toot my little horn that pretty much sounds like a dwarf jumping on a goat.

2. An engine with some get up and go. Awhile back I was accelerating to get onto the interstate and my friend that was in the car with me asked if I was worried that the gerbils in the engine were going to drop dead from the exertion. It wasn't a very nice comment, but it was rather accurate.

3. A stereo system that allows me to listen to the Beatles. You wouldn't know it, but when you only have 2 working speakers-- you can't listen to the Fab 4 (as well as the occasional Metallica song). Well you can, but it will certainly be a version you've never heard before as half of the singing and instruments are just gooooone.

4. Tinted windows- I'm tired of getting sunburned while driving. There should be special window treatments for freckled albinos, you know.


Now-- I will confess that I feel a little disloyal posting this list since my little Rav 4 has been such a loyal and lasting car (155,000 miles and counting!). I feel as though I am tempting the car fates by critiquing my car and that next week you will be getting a post about how my car died on the way to visit my parents and grandparents this weekend. So let me just put this out there into car land: I love you Rav 4-- with your stupid horn, rodents running the engine, broken stereo, and high level of UV exposure......you've been a good car, and if you could continue being a good car for another year or so, I'd really appreciate it.

HA! Take THAT Skinny Girls!

Study: Curvy Women Live Longer, Give Birth to Smarter Children

Monday, November 12, 2007


Real women don't just have curves, they also are smarter, live longer and give birth to smarter children, according to a new study.

In the research, scientists at the University of Pittsburgh and University of California, Santa Barbara, used data from a study of 16,000 women and girls, which collected details of their body measurements and their scores in cognitive tests. The study was published in the journal of Evolution and Human Behavior.

Click here to see an abstract of the study (full study available for purchase)

They found that women with a greater difference between the waist and hips scored significantly higher on the tests, as did their children, according to a report in The Sunday Times Online.


For study purposes, curvy women were defined as those whose waists are smaller than their hips. The researchers suggest that the fat around fuller hips and thighs holds higher levels of omega-3 fatty acids, which are essential for the growth of the brain during pregnancy. Fat around the waist, on the other hand, may have higher levels of omega-6 fatty acids, which are less suited to brain growth, the researchers said.

Waist fat can also be a contributory factor in diabetes and heart disease, which is why curvy women are also believed to live longer than their straighter counter parts, research shows.

Thinner or linear-shaped women lack both omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids around their waists and hips, which would be likely to boost longevity, but have little effect on intelligence.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,310636,00.html

One other thought about last weekend-- while in California, I went and saw a movie I'd never heard of called Bella. And you know, it's not often you see movies as original, moving, and authentic as this one. And above all-- it's a non-preachy movie about the value of every life-- even those who haven't been born yet. So, I'd just like to take a moment to encourage you all to go support this little independent movie to show that there is support for these types of films.

Go see it!

Me and The Waltons (or is it The Waltons and I?)

So I went to visit my friend Dara this weekend in L.A. and had an AMAZING time. Too many stories to go into on here, so I'm just sharing the picture of me at The Walton's house which is on the lot where Dara works. I did not, however, tell John-Boy good night, and I am still kicking myself.

I'm Reading Again

I've stumbled on (in a book recommended by a very cool chick) perhaps the best description I've ever found about why I feel the way I do about travelling.

I read it and I thought-- This is it. THIS is why I love to go places. He verbalized something I'd never even been able to fully work out in my own mind.

And now I'm sharing it with you.....



".....I open my journal and stare.....and do my best to fight off the atrophy that comes from seeing things too frequently. I try to shape a few sentences around this tiny corner of Rome; I try to force my eye to slow down. A good journal entry-- like a good song, or sketch, or photograph-- ought to break up the habitual and lift away the film that forms over the eye, the finger, the tongue, the heart. A good journal entry ought to be a love letter to the world.

Leave home, leave the country, leave the familiar. Only then can routine experience-- buying bread, eating vegetables, even saying hello-- become new all over again."


~Anthony Doerr, Four Seasons in Rome