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McCain/Palin

CLAN CAMP IN
CALM CAN NIP

Obama/Biden

A DEAN BOMB I
ID BONE A MBA

Clearly, it's the doggiest of dog days in August. I'm still formulating my astute and perceptive political analyses. Please stay tuned.

Okay, I admit I'm home and have CNN on in the background. I was chatting with K., who's at work, the poor dear, and I was put on hold and tuned my ear in for a moment to John McCain's speech about his new running mate and all I heard was "I found a partner who will help me stand up..."

Yup. We Can.

Observations (with a video)

Just a few quick things to share, as I am a VERY BUSY WOMAN these days. Someone in my building was moving out this weekend. First there was a tell-tale "Ab Rocket" (whatever that is) -- or a piece of it -- in the vestibule. The next day, there was a dusty VCR (picture, right). Later that afternoon, a framed black and white poster from the movie "Swingers." I tried in my head to put together a "profile" of the person(s) in question but I was laughing too hard to get anywhere.

Today, I exit my apartment and am confronted (well, they were down the hall, near the vestibule and I'd need to walk by them) by the two most enormo guys. Not scary-big or pudgy but FAT as all get out, with gigantic twin beer bellies. Now, you know I don't like to make fun of others less svelte than I, but.... Later on, the poster was gone (!) but there was another (supposed) piece of the Ab Rocket laying there for the super to haul away.

Observation: at 9 am on a Sunday it's just too early to see a young black man singing Tommy James and the Shondells' "I Think We're Alone Now" (we're talking 1967 here, people) at full volume, completely out of tune, while walking briskly up the street.

And I'm playing with some new software to get "the Ken Burn's Effect" (ha) with still photos in video format. You'd never know I went to film school. But it's not horrible for a first try. Well, now that I've seen it posted, it kinda looks like crap. I don't think I'll ever get the optimization right. Oh well.

Goodbye, Bear

Made it back from a beautiful weekend in Maine. It rained 24/7 and averaged about 63 degrees. Delightful. Even better, a watershed event: my 74-year old dad finally sold his wooden boat after years of trying. The weight off his shoulders, measured in sweat and frustration and money, equals the boats tonnage, I swear.

But I'll miss her, Bear, very very much. I teared up several times as we contemplated her absence as a family. She was no slick yacht but had her charms and well, I actually can't reminisce now, or I'll cry. Here's a nice picture and details, and no, she's not for sale anymore. A nice couple from Vinalhaven now owns her. Enjoy.

Highlights of this trip included the birthday party for my dad, seeing the rest of the family and the good food and downtime. Someone unearthed an old photo of me. Wow. Happy kid. At least I think I was happy.

Wow, I look good all blurry (new blog photo). But enough about me. I hope the 18 gabillion viewers of the Olympics this summer are as inspired and awed as me. Wow. Most exciting one I can remember. Michael Phelps, you rock.

Oh, and after all my bitching about "losses" (see below, or ... don't) well, things to turn out okay sometimes. Trainer is all the happier for being outta my gym and working with me and others at a different, smaller place in the far West Village. Just as good, different and I'm so so happy to be able to keep going. And supposedly Geraldo Rivera works out there too. Um, cool. I overheard that.. and that he likes to listen to heavy metal house music while training. Um. Okay.

Backtracking

I've been reading backward lately. Backward and forward and back again. I begin New Yorker stories toward the end, read to the end and then go back the beginning. And I'm starting to do this with novels. It's completely unintentional but somehow rewarding. I'm sure the writers wouldn't approve but too bad.

I didn't update last week and I know you're all bereft. I was processing the wonderful 4-hour lunch I had with my two new buddies (from the gym). We sat outside at Bar Pitti and I felt like the luckiest girl on the planet.

And celebrating the successful outcome of C.'s scary operation. That is one strong, cool chick. I spoke to her while she was at the hospital and she sounded so... normal. In pain but truly sounding like herself. Which, of course, she is.

August in New York. Hm. No one's gonna make a song outta that one. And if I see one more girl wearing a skirt and boots in 90 degree weather, I don't know what I'll do. Nastiest trend EVER.

Okay. Counting the days until Maine on Thursday for Dad's birthday. I got him a vintage breadmaker on eBay and will pitch in for a slick automated wood-splitter. In return, I hope to get a boat ride.

Here's what sucks. Well, for me anyway. One of my few good girlfriends left in NYC just got a new job. In BEIRUT. Teaching at an American University. Good for her... "Sure, I'll visit you!" Well, you never know. If I make it back from Greece, I may have the travel bug bad. And according the fabulous Travel + Leisure, Lebanon is a cool place to visit. Most of the time...

Oh dear. My doppleganger Facebook friend, Kit Thompson in Brighton and Hove, UK, has listed her status as "is a tremendous ball of lesbian fail." That can't be good, whatever it means.