If you’ve ever met me in person, you probably noticed that I’m not the most… let’s say… graceful individual.

I’d been doing pretty well for a while (except for cracking my head on the corner of my desk two weeks ago). But today I made up for that big time.

On my way to work this morning, carrying a tote bag and a laptop bag, I tripped in the middle of the street and fell flat on my face.

Well, not really “on my face,” but face-first. Knocked my glasses off, though. And messed up my pants. The laptop survived.

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Well, if she didn’t wear all her crazy shoes with all those high heels, she wouldn’t have tripped.”

But you’re WRONG. I was wearing SNEAKERS. And I wore them because I had to do a ton of walking today and I wanted to be COMFORTABLE.

Indeed.

And this was no minor stumble, my friends. I was laying flat on my stomach. In the middle of the street. Thankfully not a busy street, but still.

And of course there had to be people around, including the DHL guy who asked if I was okay. I managed to reply “Yep, just bruised my ego a little.” It was nice of him and all.

But what I really wanted to say was “No, I feel like I just got hit by a truck, but could you please go away and act like you never saw this?”

My chest still hurts, so I suppose I could have bruised a rib or two. I guess I’ll wait and see how I feel tomorrow.

Goddammit!

I stole this idea from something I read a while back, but I made up new numbers and altered the rules a bit…

1. Grab the nearest book.

2. Open to page 175.

3. Find the 7th full sentence on the page.

4. Post the text of the sentence in my comments, or on your blog (with these instructions) and leave me a trackback.

5. Don’t try to find the coolest book you have, just use the first one near you.

Here’s mine:

“It would already be serious enough if one of my monks had stained his soul with the hateful sin of suicide.” —The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

Call me morbid, but I’ve always had a fascination with graveyards. The older the better. There’s just something that draws me in, as if time itself slows while I’m there.

When I was a child, I would spend hours wandering among the 200 year old headstones in the churchyard at the top of my street. I would look at the names and the dates, and think about who was buried there, wonder if they ever had a notion that a little red haired girl might be walking over their final resting place and reading their names more than two centuries after they died.

On Sunday, Edo and I found ourselves wandering through a much larger graveyard. A necropolis. A city of the dead. Philadelphia is home to Laurel Hill, the nation’s second rural “garden” cemetery, and the first to be named a National Historic Landmark. It’s nestled next to Fairmount Park, looking west over the Schuylkill River. And if you didn’t notice the sign on Kelly Drive, you might never know it was there at all.

When it was first built in 1836, Laurel Hill quickly became one of the most popular tourist attractions in Philadelphia. People came to stroll, to picnic, to bask in the sun. In fact, the early garden cemeteries were the predecessors to the city parks that we have today. Apparently, when New York’s Central Park opened, people commented how much it was like a garden cemetery without the tombstones.*

Now Laurel Hill is left almost completely to the dead. Few people visit. It is overlooked, crumbling, and endangered. We’d driven past it countless times before, when it was closed or we didn’t have the time. But something made us stop at Laurel Hill Cemetery that day. It was breathtakingly gloomy and spectacular, especially in the waning hours of daylight, hidden above a riverbank, the monuments to death reaching up to the sky.

It was a wonderful escape for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon. And it’s one of this city’s forgotten treasures.

More pictures after the jump.

*According to this great book I have called Extraordinary Endings of Practically Everything and Everybody.

(more…)

This Week’s
Leg Bloggers:
–DaveT
–Stan

Well, I made the cake for UMIL. I wanted to make a Navajo sand painting, because I know she’s interested in Navajo culture, and it would be different from the typical flowers and “Happy Birthday” style cakes.

I got my inspiration from the artwork we saw on the Navajo Reservation this past July, as well as a few online sources (namely this one) and a couple google image searches.

I think it came out pretty well, though it was a bit iffy there for a while. Let me tell you, it is NOT easy to force sugar into small detailed patterns.

As it turns out, this was the first time anyone baked UMIL a birthday cake in forty years, so hopefully that wins me a few points. ;-)

Anyway, she is gone now, Thanksgiving is over, and things are slowly turning back to normal around here. As far as normal goes, anyway.

I’m home baking a cake for the UMIL (today is her birthday). So far the concept is going really well. Maybe I’ll post a picture if the real thing turns out anything like my fantasy.

Mother-In-Law
lyrics by Ernie K-Doe, 1961

The worst person I know
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
She worries me so
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
If she leaves us alone
We would have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law

I come home with my pay
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
She asks me what I make
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
But if she will leave that will be the solution
And don’t come back no more
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law

Sin should be her name
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
To me there about the same
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
Every time I open my mouth
She steps in and tries to put me out
How could she stoop so low
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law
Mother-In-Law, Mother-In-Law

It’s time for another survey! This round is all about that day when we Americans like to stuff our faces with enough food to feed a small army.

If you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but you can find a way to answer some of these questions in a relevant way, then go for it.

As always, you may answer truthfully or lie your ass off, whichever you prefer.

1) Will you be traveling for Thanksgiving this year?

2) Are you contributing any food to this year’s dinner, or perhaps even hosting it yourself?

3) Besides the normal turkey and stuffing, what’s the one Thanksgiving dish you must have?

4) Do you prefer a big gathering or quiet little meal?

5) Does your family have any Thanksgiving traditions?

6) What’s your favorite pie?

7) How important is football to your Thanksgiving experience?

8) Name three things for which you are thankful this year.

9) Black Friday: Stay home and eat leftovers or hit the mall running?

10) Complete this sentence: Thanksgiving is all about…

This Week’s Legbloggers:
–Stan
–Larakin
–DaveT

Time for the Friday Random Ten:
Hit “shuffle” or “random” on your favorite digital music player, be it on your PC, your iPod or other music playing device, and report on the first ten songs that it spits out. No skipping the embarrassing stuff.

1) Bruce Springsteen - Devils & Dust
2) Sigur Rós - Viðrar vel til loftárása
3) Kenn Kweder - Jack Kerouac
4) Electrelane - The Valleys
5) Zutons - Dirty Dancehall
6) Coldplay - A Message
7) Franz Ferdinand - You’re the Reason I’m Leaving
8) The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It
9) U2 - Stories for Boys
10) Weezer - The Other Way

Bonus Track: Scissor Sisters - Filthy/Gorgeous

Post yours in the comments, or do it on your blog and leave me a trackback.

In anticipation of the upcoming movie, Walk the Line, I thought I’d give y’all some essential Johnny Cash to chew on.

Now before this goes any further, I must emphatically state for the record:

I HATE COUNTRY MUSIC.

I hate the snivelling. I hate the whining. I hate the drawl-ing. I hate the redneck mentality that seems to go along with it.

Ask anyone who knows me, and they will say:
Kate = Hates Country Music.

Except I LOVE Johnny Cash.

Perhaps you’re asking yourself “Why this strange, seemingly hypocritical thinking? I’ve never known Kate to be anything but logical and rational when it comes to music.”

Okay, so maybe you weren’t thinking that last part.

Anyway… there was something about Johnny that set him apart from the others. There always is with the great ones.

He’s more than country. He’s folk. He’s gospel. He’s blues. He’s rock and roll.

He wanted nothing to do with the sickly sweet sound of the popular Nashville country artists.

While his contemporaries were dressed in rhinestones and glitter, he was the Man in Black.

He sang about the poor, the oppressed, the underdog, and the everyman.

He wasn’t afraid to thumb his nose at the establishment: When he won the Grammy for Best Country Album in 1998, in spite of getting no radio play, he and producer Rick Rubin placed this ad in Billboard Magazine.

And that voice. Oh my god that voice. That deep booming cavernous voice.

Like steel draped in velvet.

Rich, haunting, reaching into the deepest recesses of your soul.

Transcending genres, generations, and time itself.

And if this lifelong anti-country girl can dig Johnny Cash, well then so can you.

Some info about the songs after the jump… (more…)

So in the next month or two, Edo and I are going to mildly redesign this here Landslide in my Ego. No major structural changes, but I have a wish list and we’re going to see what we can do. So I thought I’d see if anyone else has some input. If you have any gripes or grievances, now is the time to air them.

Unfortunately, there is one thing I cannot change, so I’ll just let you know up front: there is no way for me to allow you to edit your comments after they’ve been submitted.

WordPress does allow you to register as a user, but it’s really designed for multiple user blogs where several different people are posting. It allows you to edit your own posts (and ostensibly the comments attached to your own posts), but not your own comments on other people’s posts.

(That sort of sounds like “You can please all of the people some of the time, you can please some of the people all of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.”) Anyway, I’ll probably just get rid of the “register” feature.

For editing/deleting your comments, just email me and ask me to fix it, or post your request in another comment. Short of me giving everyone administrative access (yeah right), there is no other way.

But for everything else, let ‘er rip…

I’d like to think that Edo and I are good hosts. After all, everyone who visits us says such nice things. It does wonders for our egos. :-)

So if you are coming to visit me for an overnight stay, or even a weekend, you never have to worry about asking for something. I’m happy to provide anything you need, from towels and pajamas to soap and shampoo or even a toothbrush (I always have extras). But if you are coming for a week or more, please don’t just assume it’s okay to use all my stuff. Chances are that I would let you, but I’d really appreciate it if you asked.

Most of my things are very specifically catered to me and my super dry, hyper-sensitive skin, and well… I need them. It’s not like I get to the store every day. And I have plenty of other things you can use, like sample packages or products I bought that didn’t turn out to be suited for me.

But if you choose to ignore this advice, and just use the things I already have in the shower without asking me… LEAVE THE GODDAMN CAPS ON THE BOTTLES!! THEY ARE FLIP TOPS FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!

P.S. Don’t even think about using my razor. I’ll happily give you a new blade to use with my handle if you need a shave.

I’ll Be Watching You…

Okay, first, read this. Then come back here.

And now for the really messed up part:

So, today I open my office door, as I’m heading out for my coffee, and I hear some U2 music. It was coming from Moe’s office. And it was pretty loud—I could easily make out the exact song before my office door was completely open.

Now I realize that there are a lot of people in this world who like U2, so I tried not to think too much of it. But it was an old album, so it was all the more unusual. And I could tell that it was an old album (as opposed to greatest hits) because of the song he was playing.

And even though I tried to shrug it off, one word kept going through my head: bait.

So, I mustered up my courage and walked past his office looking straight ahead (but glancing sideways). He was totally watching for me, but surprisingly, he didn’t follow.

So I go get my coffee, and come back the same way.

About five minutes after I’m back in my office, my phone rings. (more…)

Sorry for the length of this entry. I tried to keep it short. I failed.

So it seems that I have a stalker.

I’ve been meaning to mention this for some time now, but I was having some difficulty writing it down.

Well today it went from creepy to disturbing, so I thought I’d better type this up before he kidnaps me. You’ll need it to look for clues to wherever he hides my body.

It’s a guy from another department who works a short distance down the hall from me. Let’s call him… Moe. I think he started working here some time over the summer.

I had passed this guy in the hallway lots of times, and he barely even looked at me. I actually sort of assumed he was gay (and no, not because he barely looked at me). I mean, how often can a man wear pink without raising a few eyebrows? But, it turns out that he’s just foreign. Now I am well aware of the differences between the American concept of masculinity and that of the rest of the world. Still, I thought I’d accounted for that. My gaydar isn’t 100%, but it’s not bad.

Anyway, it all started one day as I was going for my daily tall triple skinny sugar free hazelnut latte. (more…)

Anyone else mourning the future of Arrested Development?

Fox pulls ‘Arrested Development’ for November sweeps [ABC]

Thanks to all who gave me kind words when I was freaking out yesterday and the night before about UMIL’s disapproval of me. Today I’m feeling a little better.

I try to approach the situation with humor, because otherwise all I’d have is anger. And well, anger is bad. :-p

I did get some thoughtful advice from people yesterday…

From my dad:
He’s her guy, and she’ll do anything to hold onto that. You are a threat to her, so she’s fighting back.

From my boss (who always has such a way with words):
If you’re planning on marrying this guy—or okay, living in sin for the rest of your life, whatever—she’s not going anywhere and you have to find a way to get along with her.

Ehhhh, so I didn’t ask for her, but boy do I have to deal with her. I just have to remind myself that I’m lucky I don’t have to spend whole entire days with the UMIL.

And I must remember to laugh.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Wow! Has it really been six days? More like five until this evening, but it’s the sixth calendar day. So… how are we doing?

Well, dinner with my parents on Saturday went very well. Better than I expected, actually. Hooray for us!

But last night I got my first feedback on what UMIL thinks of me. Let’s see…

I’m cold and distant. I’m not reaching out to her. And I’m bossy and ungrateful.

I’m messy (which is true, but I’ve been on extra super duper good behavior and I haven’t actually done anything messy). This comment was supposedly prompted by two water pitchers that were left out, even though I was not the only person using them. In fact, while they were off in New York earlier that same day, I had to clean up a miniature espresso flood that was inadvertently left for me in my kitchen, and I baked 3 dozen cookies with nary a trace left when I was done.

I have nothing interesting to say. Even my parents ignore me.

I talk too fast (okay, I’ll give her that one).

I think that everything in America is better, even though I never once expressed that sentiment (apparently I can’t even describe the way something is done in the US as a comparison to other countries without exalting the American way of life at the top of my lungs). Half of her sentences to me start off with “You must understand that in Italy, it’s different….” And she can’t believe I haven’t gone over there yet to see and understand how they do things.

Oh, and because I come from a “lower social class,” I mustn’t forget that I’m a “climber,” and I shouldn’t make other people stoop down to my standards.

So, you know… I guess things could be worse. She could be staying for three weeks instead of two.

Remember that old slogan? “SEPTA: We’re getting there.”

I used to think it was the absolute worst… motto… ever. It was as if they were mocking me every time I boarded a train.

And then the SEPTA monkeys came up with this beauty here on the left (image nicked from Philebrity).

Their new “Genuine Philly” campaign prompted a collective “WTF?!!” from basically every person who saw one of these stupid posters.

I guess they were trying to stir our inner Philadelphian spirits. Whatever.

I didn’t think it could get any worse.

But I was wrong.

Presenting the SEPTA employee trading cards:

Edo actually got one of these last week, but alas, he threw it away and I wasn’t able to scan it for your guffawing pleasure.

Oh, did I mention that this ad campaign is costing SEPTA $600,000?

The same SEPTA that can barely wipe its own ass without asking the state for more money.

$600,000.

I wonder how many urine soaked subway stations could be cleaned up with $600,000.

See also:
–Bubble gum not included [Inky]
–Update: SEPTA Marketing Dept. Just Can’t Stop Making “Philebrity Gold” [Philebrity]

This Week’s Leg Bloggers:
–Larakin
–Stan

This little activity has been floating around the blogsphere for a long time. I actually tried (in vain) to see who came up with it to give credit where credit is due. Oh well.

Here’s what you do: hit “shuffle” or “random” on your favorite digital music player, be it on your PC, your iPod or other music playing device, and report on the first ten songs that it spits out. No skipping the embarrassing stuff. Here we go…

1. Franz Ferdinand - This Boy
2. Bloc Party - So Here We Are
3. The Shins - Saint Simon
4. U2 - Exit
5. James Blunt - Tears and Rain
6. David Bowie - Let’s Dance
7. Kaiser Chiefs - Na Na Na Na Naa
8. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Over and Over Again
9. The Postal Service - Sleeping In
10. Green Day - Give Me Novocaine

Bonus Track: The Cure - Fascination Street

Post yours in the comments, or do it on your blog and leave me a trackback.

Well, she’s here. Day one (yesterday) with UMIL went pretty well. I left work a tad early and rushed home to put some last minute things together and bake some cupcakes. There was a little snafu at the airport (will someone please tell me what the problem is with AirFrance’s baggage system?!), which gave me even more time to get things ready. So all in all, not too bad.

Before we went to bed, she told me that I was much more beautiful than she remembered. Now I guess that’s nice, and it has been three years since she’s seen me… but do I really look that shitty in all of the pictures she’s seen of me?

Oh wait… I forgot about this.

I just might have to boycott me some Sony BMG.

Sony gets an earful over CD software Program to block music piracy prompts privacy, security worries [SF Chron]

I’m a little late in posting this, but I just want to thank the town of Dover, PA for showing the rest of the world that Pennsylvania is not as backwards as Kansas.

It’s a revolution for evolution [Inky]

Update:

Robertson warns Pennsylvania voters of God’s wrath

“I’d like to say to the good citizens of Dover: if there is a disaster in your area, don’t turn to God, you just rejected Him from your city.”