You are currently browsing the monthly archive for July 2007.

Last week, C & C went to see the new Harry Potter flick.
We attended it at a new multi-plex that has a sit-down dinner service.
Pretty swanky with waitstaff and a special Harry Potter themed menu as well.

I apologize for not remembering to keep the menu to share with you.
But, I did order myself a butter beer. (It was either that or the gilly water.)

The muggle version of butter beer, apparently, is root beer with a shot of butterscotch schnapps, topped with whip cream and caramel.
Being the root beer snob that I am, I was repulsed and intrigued at the same time.
I ordered one.
It came.
It looked damned silly. (No umbrella, but there was a plastic spider perched on the straw.)
I took a sip.

It was warm.

I said, “It’s warm.”

C said, “Yeah. I know. They said it was warm.”

I said, “They did? I didn’t hear that. Root beer shouldn’t be warm.”

C said, “I know. I didn’t order one.”

She did, however, try some of mine.

C said, “That is horrid.”

I wouldn’t go that far. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad.

It would have been a hell of a lot better if it has been cold.
(Why was it warm? Is Butter Beer served warm in the books?)

The movie, in case you are curious, was enjoyable. Lots missing.
Lots changed.
On the bright side, I enjoyed Harry more in the movie than I did in the book.
In the book, I thought he was a right awfull little git.


Our dog’s name

when we have a dog

will not be


That is all.

• There is no way to adequately describe Karma’s favortite game. Sure, I could say, she jumps under the sheet on the bed, rolls onto her back, and then attacks with wild abandon anything that brushes across the sheet while purring like an outboard motor; but– it just doesn’t begin to convey how cute, ferocious, and funny it really is. I’m tempted to try and take video of it.

• Based on the theory of random reinforcement, after today, my fear of being exactly an hour late will continue to plague me for quite some time.

• Writing is hard. Writing well is harder. Writing well when people are messing with your head is nigh impossible.

• There are a lot of festivals in this town. No really. I lot of ’em. Who knew?

• While I am planning to go to Bastille Days– I will not be wearing a beret. I don’t own a beret. I don’t want to own a beret. Think about it, I would look quite silly in one of those things. I’m going to wear my jester hat.

• Handwritten letters from your ‘rents are either very, very good or very, very bad. If it is in the middle, it isn’t a letter, it is a note. Probably a grocery list.

• Our treadmill has developed a squeak. A good squeak. Apparently, it doesn’t want me falling off the back any more than I do– so now it squeaks when I get close to the back roller. I believed it saved me twice this week. Good treadmill, good treadmill. (At this rate, I’ll be giving it a name.)

That is all. We now return you to your regularly scheduled avoidance behaviour.

Based on a review from someone I trust (disagree with on occasion, but trust), I went to see Transformers tonight.

C did not go with me. She loves me, but there are limits.
I rarely– rarely– like never– go to the movies by myself. My severe extroversion makes such a thing a horrible thought to even contemplate. I mean, really, who would I talk to during the movie?

But I went alone to this one.
The theatre was packed. PACKED!

Why did I go? Transformers are not super heroes. But they are geeky. And I really enjoyed them when I was a kid. I didn’t own any of them— but I watched the cartoons and I loved the concept. So I went.

The story was good. The special effects were amazing. The characters were believable in a pathetic, funny sort of way. They stayed true to their source material. They gave little “shout outs” to the fans. There were lots of explosions and mucho violence, but no bloodshed and no gore. There was one set of villians, not 3 separate villians.

I went in with very low expectations and was exceptionally surprised.
Why can’t the people who make my super hero movies follow the example of this movie?

I might even go back and see it again.

Some time ago, I lost my keychain.

You may remember, I don’t buy myself keychains.

I wait for someone to give me one.

While in Portland, I was given this as promo.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t acceptable as a replacement keychain.
1. Too big.
2. Not fitting with my personality.
3. Not from someone with a personal connection to me.
4. Most importantly– the silly thing doesn’t work as a glass cleaner.

Fortunately, while in Portland, a friend gave me not one, but three keychains.
I looked all over the internet for a photo of them– no luck.
They are, apparently, promo keychains for the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers release in Japan. I currently have the Legolas coin as my keychain.
It has Elvish script on both sides, the title on one side, and the cool graphic on the other side.
In the background, there is the leaf clasp from the fellowship. Over that is a bow and arrow (Legolas’ I assume.)


Ask to see it when next you see me.

Gosh, I love how the universe works.

M1 and M2 watched the Princess while we were away.
Phone calls were made to check in, see how things were going.

M2: Things are going great. Well, almost great.
C: Almost great?
M2: Yeah, M1 is hogging her. She won’t let me play with her.
C: There’s plenty of her to go around.
M2: I know.. but… well– do you know what she did yesterday?
C: No, what?
M2: She brought a bug inside the house for Opal to play with.
C: She did what?
M2: Yup. She did it again today. She’s bringing bugs into our new house for the kitty to play with.
C: …