Details have come in on the Leap Day "To Kiss a Frog” event held in Tula, Russia.  Around 60 zoo-goers participated in the “To Kiss a Frog” event, which included the telling of the story of the beautiful Vasilissa who traveled the swamps kissing frogs to save them. The fairy tale shed light on the amphibian crisis. Inspired by the performance, visitors were photographed kissing a variety of frogs including the Australian green tree frog, Digging frogs, and the Common grass frog. In addition to the photo they also received a “Year of the Frog” badge as a reminder to raise awareness for the cause. Local media also came out to show support, and staff members even took turns kissing frogs!     

Searches for "frogs" really jumped on Leap Day!

He proposed last Friday, February the 29th. (My mom commented on my leap day post about the appropriateness of the entry seeing that Joe and I decided to take the big leap later on that evening! haha) Joe had mentioned earlier in the month of February that he had thought about proposing on the 29th. When I got excited and said, "That would be awesome! What a cool, unique day!!" he replied with, "Oh, I guess I can't now that you know. Oh well...."

So, I said I'd forget. (Like I'd forget! Pshhh.) And the month went on. Earlier in the week before the 29th, he asked if I wanted to go out that Friday, just the two of us for dinner. Sounds good. I love dates! Then a few days after that, he told me that he was going to drive and pick me up. Then tension mounts as my suspisions rise.

On the day of the 29th, I was so excited all day. I mean, I really didn't know if it was going to happen so I didn't want to get myself too happy, but I remember looking at my left ring finger thinking, "What if today is the last day ....." So I go home and get changed from my work clothes and wait. And wait. He's really late. He had a study session for quals with his adviser that went really long. He finally calls and tells me he's coming over and he's dressed up. "How often do we go on dates? I just wanted to look nice.", he says. Bump up that suspicion notch one more.

So we go out for dinner and it was really nice. The food was pretty good. We talked about some interesting stuff, and I think, just enjoyed spending some time together. Thinking back on it, I remember laughing...so thats a good thing.

Walking up to my front door, I could see in the cracks of my blinds and I saw a flame. "Why is my apartment on fire??", I said. So, I grab my keys and go to the door. The blinds by the front door were also closed (and they are never closed because I leave them open for Koda) so I knew someone had been there. I open the front door and there were rose petals on the floor and little candles all over the dinning room table and through the living room.

(Now, the next part may be slightly out of order because I was a little overwhelmed. ) As I'm looking around, Joe gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him. The he grabs Koda, holds up up, and says, "Koda has a present for you." (My little kitty was so good because he came right over when we walked in!) The ring was on his collar. I told Joe, "Of course, I'll marry you!" He put the ring on my finger, we kissed....then I cried and jumped up and down a little bit....

....and that's how it all happened.

But First: In some Atlanta Falcons news, Chris Redman will return as a quarterback in the fall. Running back Michael Turner will know just how frustrating construction on Peachtree Road/Street can be in the 2008 season. Tight end Ben Hartsock will feel the pain of off-the-chart-pollen-count (if he's allergic). Cornerback Von Hutchins will come to love the infrequency with which Atlanta drivers put on a turn signal--especially when they need to put them on...say in parking lots.

Click their names to read the articles.

Now back to Leap Year.

I watched the Alvin Ailey Dance Theatre on Friday at the Fox Theatre. I've wanted to see them perform for so long and I finally did. They put many dancers I've seen to shame. Their classical ballet movements may not be as sharp or polished as the principal dancers of certain companies, but they move with such emotion and emit a kind of energy that is truly astounding. Moreover, some of the choreography of group numbers (in terms of dance steps and formations) I had never seen before--it was an awesome way to spend Leap Day.

On Saturday, I watched Semi-Pro (Kent Alterman, 2008).

My initial reaction after watching this film was, "Well, that was a flatbread kneaded with lopsided helpings of crude humor and a sports inspirational parody." Semi-Pro documents Flint Tropics owner-coach-power forward Jackie Moon (Will Ferrell) and his quest to take his team to the top of the ABA League (American Basketball Association) and, ultimately, merge with the NBA. In order to improve their skills, Jackie hires NBA wallflower Monix (Woody Harrelson) to play with the guys.

If Semi-Pro is primarily a vehicle for Will Ferrellian antics, then the film accomplishes this feat decently. I haven't seen his other sports movies (Talladega Nights, Kicking & Screaming, Blades of Glory), so I don't know if the partially integrated gags and jokes were no different from his other films. I wasn't keen on the ostensible randomness of certain characters (the guy who free throws on Free Corndog Night) and scenes ("jive turkey" and quasi-roulette featuring Tim Meadows). This romance storyline with Woody Harrelson and Maura Tierney was somewhat arbitrary too.

After thinking about it for a day, though, I came to appreciate the loose ends and non-conformity to the standard sports film. The criticisms, and sometimes the sheer idiocy, of professional sports are subtly presented. They are first and foremost examples of Will Ferrell behaving like a "a well-meaning oaf afflicted by neurosis and some affliction that causes him to scream a lot" (as Peter Vonder Haar puts it). The film is called "Semi-Pro;" "semi" meaning not complete, half, not whole. Remove all the sports scenes and sequences (ten games and two to three practices; actual game-play took up only about ten to fifteen minutes of the ninety minute film), and you'd have fodder for a jab at the 70s.

Observations & Miscellania:

1. Product placement and Branding: Fondue, Pong, Converse.

2. Once I got over the non-gestalt aspect of the film's narrative components, I still couldn't deal with the utter lack of sympathy for the characters. Even Clarence "Coffee" Black (Andre Benjamin), who is depicted as having more than one thought or emotion and who possesses two-dimensional ambition (as opposed to one-dimensional, flat), can't secure my support. Technically, I could say that "I just don't care" about this film.

3. The opening newspaper, still photo montage sequence establishes that Jackie Moon's hit song "Love Me Sexy" made him a shipload of money, enabling him to purchase and then play for the Flint Tropics.

4. My appreciation for the film's lopsided flatbread qualities started after I thought about the final game in the film, where Jackie Moon's team vying to win the Megabowl--a trophy he concocted just to get people to come to the stadium. It got me thinking about corporate sponsors and the creation of all sorts of awards and trophies given out just so there can be another game.

For more Semi-Pro pictures, click here.

On Sunday, I watched The Other Boleyn Girl (Justin Chadwick, 2008). I went into the film with zero expectations--I didn't even know if the book on which the film is based was historical fiction or not. Thus, I enjoyed it more than I thought; it wasn't a waste of time.

Eric Bana, who plays King Henry VIII, probably only had ten pages of lines. He spent most of the film striding around and looking intently offscreen or into the camera. Matt Sorrento's review at Film Threat is hilarious--even though I don't necessarily agree with what the review argues, it's a better read than the film is a good watch.

Should the leap day signify something? An extra day every four years...at the end of the month of love. I don't know. I don't quite feel like analyzing today. And that isn't good when I've got to write an analytical essay on a book which every sentence  has some sort of symbolism.
I walk around with the most vacant expression...Where is my head?

My birthday is soon. I'm making invitations...I thought just going to Cancun would be nice. But my mom is pushing a party, too. SO here I am. Making invitations.

It is dull, and I'm not making it any better.

Petroleum By-Products opened the night. I wasn't particularly in the rock head space that night, so I wasn't feeling their songs. However, once VNDLSM came on things were rad once more. I took a few photos (my friend Meg was the official photog for the night, so we got the cams out together).

I have uploaded a few below.

The rest can be found here.

If I told you that I hated the month of February, would you believe me?

Of course the more interesting part is not what but why, and I would turn to you and tell you that currently I'm digging myself into trouble, but that's not really what I'm thinking about. That's because it's much harder for me to really tell you why. It's a flawed idea, something I've started and stopped and deleted and erased and retried many times.

* * * * * *

She and I kissed, for the first time, quite appropriately on New Year's - but strangely enough, not at that magically chaotic midnight turn of the calendar. We kissed at 12:27am. I remember this because the confetti was already starting to settle, the tiny figures on the television screen starting to now stumble and welcome in the New Year after the cameras no longer had the bright and shiny ball to focus in on. In the midst of this, we kissed.

It was a release - not like the slow snail trail of a shiny ball making its way down - but a sudden explosion of emotion. We suddenly were no longer friends. We suddenly, found clothing to be optional, hands given free passes, and bodies clinging to each other in the bed of my cold apartment.

Then, quite unexpectedly, her mother died in the last week of February.

To say that it had an effect would be a gross understatement. You see, she was already fragile, and this merely launched her into a numbness I don't quite know if she has (to this day) fully recovered from. Like some slow-motion post-traumatic-stress condition, it seeped into every aspect of her life, every word she would say, every word she would hear, and everything and anything.

You see, since I wasn't part of the family - I wasn't at the funeral. I wasn't at the hospital, observing the final moments of breast cancer tugging away at the last bit of morphine-soaked life. I wasn't there. But I was there after. I was there to stand by her side and to wipe the tears that came from memory; pain from memory not pain from shock. And when it wasn't pain from loss it was anger from loss, and I was there for her, because, genuinely, I loved her.

Life, as it has been known to do, marches on. Even if it has to limp.

Maybe something went wrong in there. A year had gone by. And then two. And then three. And I would sit in a dark room, the computer screen splashing light into the otherwise blackness. I sat there, looking for something because I didn't have it.

I still believe that love kept me there, with her, despite the one-sided-ness that I often felt, took, and kept close inside. I never told her that. I never told her many things, like how I wished she would sometimes do the dishes. I never told her that I was getting tired of waking up early and doing the laundry on Sunday mornings. I never told her that I was too tired (and that it was kind of late, at 10:44pm) to go out to the supermarket and get her ice-cream. Or to move her car from one side of the street to the other. I never, once, told her that little by little, I felt my love for her erode and crumble into dust carried on a bitter wind.

That's kind of dramatic - because I still love her.

* * * * * *

It was a slow ellipse, the passing of time in that relationship. January remained high and full of promise, an anniversary, memories of the first kiss carrying us through to February, pink hearts and all. The turn came with the passing of the day her mother died. And so, the months that followed limped along, the axes sometimes tilting from one end to the other, but the two of us were still hurtling in the unknown familiar orbit, together.

And (to throw away any sort of implied conclusion) that is why I think about leap day and I ponder corrections and calendars and February and orbits and lots of things too difficult to put into words.

it's from the smoke farm show that the implied violence kids were kind enough to have me in.
looks a real winning kind of guy up there on the old green, no?

this is just a distraction from what's posted below.
seems like a good idea to keep a low profile on the normal madness that i litter this thing with now that grant gifting orgs may well be climbing all over me soon. i'm not going to take anything down; i'm not ashamed of my work. it's too far into the game for artists to be distracted by petty notions like shame and embarrassment.

if you're going to do it you might as well enjoy it and be proud.
it's not as if we can take anything back.
and why would anyone want to.

if anything the persecutor should learn to forgive, embrace and relax.
it's probably of the finest causes for the rampaging amount of boredom that swathes this city.
hell, i just spent my friday night curled up with a good history book reading about how jesus was probably a mystery school initiate and john the baptist was the true hero of the gospels. modern day gnostics. i love 'em.

yesterday, in lieu of sleeping, i practiced my patanajali exercises. you know the ones. you start off listening to your heartbeat,
but inside your chest cavity with with a practiced ear. slowly you allow your senses to expand and take in the sound of blood moving through veins and lungs rising and collapsing. eventually, you're at the threshold of the skin listening to static magnetic hairs sway. then you do the big thing and move out. listen further and further from the body. probably the most fun meditation for a musician out there.

yeah, i skipped a friday to hang out with jesus. but then it did seem like the appropriate thing to do. it was leap day remember? and everyone was trying to come up with cool things to do as commemorative genuflection. at the bank of america where i gathered some pennies from the vault, the very cute teller explained to me that all the ladies there were wearing ties and matching blue sweaters. not my idea of a lot of fun, but who am i to argue with a lack of progress? i wanted them to just give away free money, of course. i asked, too. you never know. it's the end of the 4 year span; anything can happen. as it was i left a little richer, but only because i'd earned it. where's that free lunch i ordered a while back?

but what is a person supposed to do? my friends josh and ginger looked at the last thing i slipped in here, 'sense of being,' and proclaimed it boring, beneath me, and chided me further by proclaiming the entire concept of blogs "retarded." that is a fine and admirable take form a couple of very smart hipsters out in brooklyn. and i listened to them, too. not that i paid any attention. i love the post; i want to do more just like it. and it is hard to take criticism on the deployment of mass media from a guy who used to do pirate radio. god josh, how seventies. how off the london shore. how Voice Of America.

someone else accused me of rampant narcissism. wow. i wasn't sure what to make of that. i'm still not. i'm an aries though: we don't respond well to criticism.

look, i'm writing this to put space between the two articles. if you want to see it and that's why you're here then by all means scroll down. but i hope you're of age and not someplace where looking at those photographs will get you terminated. that's right... you have been warned. and if it does offend you then please go talk to a spiritual advisor. no more strange and viscerally peculiar letters of retribution. i'm saving them. i'm going to make posters of them for the exhibition.

p.s. i don't know who took this glamor shot, but i would love to give somebody credit.

We all had an extra day to work with yesterday. I wasn't overly productive with mine.

I did my civic duty and paid my property taxes. While outside the courthouse, I spotted a giant earthworm on the rain-soaked sidewalk. That monster was about eight inches long. I stopped and took a snap of it for my Project 365 set.

I had lunch with Newscoma and Killawatts at the local meat & 3 buffet. Since I've had this cold, I haven't really been able to taste anything all week. Therefore, some of the blandness emanating from my plate can be attributed to my suppressed and oppressed taste buds.

At the office in the afternoon, I did some actual work at my desk. Earlier in the week, I waded through piles of paper and clutter that were about to overwhelm me. I'll admit the main reason I got my neatfreak on was in order to present a half-way decent appearance to a job shadower from a nearby middle school on Wednesday. The 2.0 version of my office had me getting a jump on the work for Monday. Yay me for working ahead.

After work, Newscoma and Badger Beth and I had a few brews at a local drinking establishment. Tasty. It was the first Friday night I haven't had a basketball game to cover in what seems like months. The last of my high school hoop teams got eliminated earlier in the week, so I took advantage of not having to head to a game, at least until softball/baseball/soccer/tennis seasons opens in a few days.

After some hot wings, I headed home and hit the hay.

Four more years until my next extra day.

Maybe I'll get more done next time.

But then again, does February really want to have thirty days?  As it stands right now, February gets a lot of extra attention because of its "special" status of being the only month with fewer than three sets of ten days.  Or ten sets of three days.  Or even six sets of five... [rambling stopped here for brevity - editor].  And because of this, it gets the bonus leap day, which is the rarest of all days, as it only occurs 97 times every 400 years.  (In comparison, all other days occur 400 times every 400 years.)

February has, on occasion, had 30 days.  The Swedes were messing around with it in the early 18th century whilst they tried to change from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian, even though neither of those calendars have a 30-day-February.  The Soviets also fiddled with the idea some 200 years later.  See, a communist calendar is where all the months have the same number of days, even if some months work harder than others.  And that is why communism always fails.

So, in conclusion, February 30th could be a terrible omen.  But it is also a sign of capitalist dominance.  And that's why February only has 28 days.  Or 29 (sometimes).

What?

February 29, 2100, will not exist on the Gregorian Calendar or the Orthodox New Calendar (aka Revised Julian Calendar), but will on the Orthodox Old Calendar.  Every four years is a Leap Year in the OC no matter what.  So on March 14, 2100 (NS), the Gregorian and NC will run ahead of the OC by one more day, adding up to an even two weeks - 14 days.  Making OC Orthodox lives 1,000 times easier, ISTM: Instead of constantly having to subtract 13 from the 'common' date, they'll be able to just move their finger up two weeks on their wall/desk/Palm calendars!  (Though it's said many on the OC are pretty good at the subtraction, even across two months!)  And it happens on 3/14 because that's when the OC will have a date the NC didn't have.  Got it?  And Old Calendar Christmas, the Nativity of the Lord, will then move to January 8 (NS).

February 29, 2800, will not exist on the Orthodox New Calendar, but will on the OC and Gregorian.  At that point, the Gregorian will be 20 days ahead of OC because the OC will have had 6 more leap years since 2100.  But also, the NC will run ahead of Gregorian by one day: For the Gregorian, the day after Feb. 28 will be Feb. 29, but for the NC, it'll be March 1!  So then the NC will be an even 3 weeks ahead of the OC.

(It's late, so if I've screwed this up, someone please let me know, OK?)

Dagnabit! Looks like I missed my big chance, and it won't come around for another four years. No one told me that a Leap Year tradition (other than getting 29 cent fries and donuts at fast food eateries) even existed. Apparently, Leap Year Day offers women the opportunity to propose marriage to any fella she deems worthy. Naturally, there are many different theories as to how this practice originated and whether or not it can be called "Sadie Hawkins Day."

The tradition of women proposing marriage on Leap Day is believed to have originated in Ireland in the fifth century with St. Brigid's complaint to St. Patrick that women were getting impatient because men were talking too long to propose marriage. St. Patrick decided that women could propose to men every four years on Leap Day. Another tale states that Queen Margaret of Scotland instituted the rule that if a woman was turned down by the man, she would be compensated with a pair of gloves, money, or a dress--as they could get very expensive, the tradition was moved to Leap Day, and even then the women intent on marrying had to give warning by wearing "breeches", which eventually turned into red skirts (read more).

Clearly, Sadie Hawkins Day is distinctively different than this Leap Year tradition according to others. They say that Sadie Hawkins Day is celebrated on November 15 in most places. Wikipedia offers more insight on Sadie Hawkin's Day,

"In the Li'l Abner comic strip, Sadie Hawkins was the daughter of one of Dogpatch's earliest settlers, Hekzebiah Hawkins. When she reached the age of 35, still a spinster, her father in desperation called together the eligible bachelors of Dogpatch and declared that day to be Sadie Hawkins Day and that "when ah fires [my gun] all o' yo' kin start a-runnin! When ah fires agin - after givin' yo' a fair start - Sadie starts a runnin'. Th' one she ketches'll be her husband."

The town spinsters decided that this was such a good idea, they made Sadie Hawkins Day an annual event, much to the chagrin of Dogpatch bachelors everywhere.

Sadie Hawkins Day was first mentioned in the November 13, 1937 Li'l Abner strip with the race actually taking place between the November 19th and November 30th strips. It would prove to be an annual event in the strip."

I really think that we single ladies should try to make Sadie Hawkins Day a national holiday. Right now it's hard to tell when it's even celebrated. We should get a chance to chase a bunch of men, track one day, and drag 'em back into town to get hitched. It sounds perfectly barbaric, and yet kind of fun.

Of course, it would probably be better to actually give the man the option to say no. A rejected woman does get a gift of her choice to soften the blow. If a guy rejected my proposal, I'd want him to purchase me a pink taser gun. Naturally, I would have to try it out on someone first, like maybe the person who gave it to me. It's a win/win situation--revenge and a present. Well, at least if you're the woman. For guys, it's completely unjust. There should be at least one tradition that weighs in the favor of female power.

Sadly, I didn't ask anyone to marry me today...and I didn't get any presents for being rejected either. But in four years, I'll get my big chance again, and if I'm still single, I'm gonna go for it. OK, I probably won't, but you won't remember that four years from now.

I want a day that will correct May 29, 2007 (or was it, actually, May 30?), such that time as we know it, would allow us to make a correction to that night - the night Owen went missing.  Obviously, clocks and calendars are not responsible for events. Events happen irrespective of our concepts of time.  We mark time, despite those events, and this is one of our many dilemmas.

A perfect calendar - what a concept.  A perfect anything.  Is there such a thing?  I can think of perfect moments, so I think there is such a concept, even a reality of perfection.  Only as each of us perceives it, though. 

Dave and I have been remembering our perfect moments with Nat and Owen tonight.  We've come up with a few. 

One perfect moment:  We were living in Sebastopol.  Owen and I rescued a dog from our local hardware store (this was a 2-hour debate, but ended with a happy outcome for everyone).  Owen named him "Smokey" and in order to welcome him into the family, we wanted to make his initiation fun.  So, when Dave came home from work that evening, Owen was pregnant.  Smokey was the baby living under his t-shirt, and Nat, Dave, Grandma, and I watched as Owen presented Smokey to the family.  This fluffy, little, black puppy became a part of our household, in one big swoosh.  Owen pulled Smokey from underneath his shirt, and all was right with the world - for a brief time, in retrospect.

We had plenty of other perfect moments.  To recall just a few:  Owen and I fishing in San Diego County lakes; Owen and Dave fishing off piers in San Diego; Nat, Owen, Dave, and the guys golfing together; Mom's memorial service at our house (weird, maybe, to think of someone's funeral as perfect, but it was); Nat and Owen playing with Dubious Dog; Sara and Laura reading to Nat and Owen before bedtime; family nights with Pop, Auntie Lyn, and Nana; celebrating birthdays at the Fair Street house; Christmas Eves with Dave's girls at our various houses in Sonoma County; the time we spent together while Nat was in four different hospitals when he was sick at age 13 (perfect because we were together, and he survived); our first few months together after we moved to Washington and everyone was finding their way in our new neighborhoods; afternoons spent with Lea on our patios and decks in Bodega Bay, Sebastopol, San Diego, Bellingham, and Petaluma; afternoons together at Stuart's coffeehouse in Bellingham; laundry days with Carla and Owen at our house in Glenhaven, and dinners together on those evenings; meals at our house on Eldridge Street with Owen, Helen, Dave, and me, and time spent on the deck afterwards; going to get coffee, driving with the top down in the convertible with Nat and Owen, in Santa Rosa; and with the memories flooding in, the perfect times were so many, I'm overwhelmed - and that is perfect, too.

I received an email today from an employee with the subject line: "Leap Day".  It was her letter of resignation.  She's leaping off into a new future, one she hadn't imagined just a few months ago.  When I read it, I remembered what it's like to take that leap of faith, and how perfectly she timed her departure. 

I also thought about Owen's departure, and whether I will ever think about the timing as anything other than devastating.  I have a hard time separating my grief, from his life path.  Was it perfect timing for Owen to leave this life?  Only he would have known.  Mostly, I'm tortured about my son's untimely death, but I have to trust that while I think he was taken from us, he might have described his leap into the next life as something quite different.  I have to acknowledge that Owen accepted his often repeated mantra:  "whatever's gonna happen, is gonna happen."  I also have to continue my search for what happened that night. 

Owen expected me to ask questions, do my research, and find answers.  I continue to leap into unknown territory, and I expect to find answers.  I may fall flat, I may fall short, but I will have lept with the hope of flying.

Song for the night:  Consequences of Falling, K D Lang

http://youtube.com/watch?v=4qNVWViAObA

This morning we packed up the dogs, dropped them off with my Mom (thanks Mom!), and headed out to the airport.  We flew first class, so it was a comfortable flight with a decent lunch.  After arriving in Denver, we picked up the rental car and made our way to the lovely city of Breckenridge.

We arrived too late to ski, but not too late to enjoy the town.  Breckenridge is wonderful.  It's been a long time since I've been here, but I still love it.  It has a neat "old west" atmosphere with lots of boutique shops and restaurants.  Tonight, we simply strolled about checking out the stores and soaking up the views of the mountains surrounding us.  It was a great evening.

Tomorrow, we ski.

PICS FROM TODAY:

Village at Breckenridge

Having fun trying on crazy ski hats

Our condo -- just a few steps away from the Snowflake lift.

So yesterday I mentioned a great happy hour locale and some yummy German eats:

The Rathskeller
A favored locale throughout the summer months, the Biergarten at the Rathskeller is a great choice for a cold German beer and live local music under the city lights . But the Rathskeller does much, much more than serve up cold beer (although they do that pretty darn well.) I attended a catered function at the Rathskeller on Thursday evening and was wowed by the spead of food, beers and wines. My favorite beer sampled was the Weihenstephaner Dunkel Weiss, a darker beer suprising light in taste. The ambiance of the old Athenaeum building is dark and perhaps a little mysterious. I've not been to an old German beer hall, but the Kellerbar certainly draws that vision... a long narrow corridor, high stone walls, moose head and bits of sunlight peaking through windows near the ceiling.

Happy Hour @ Palomino
Little did I know of Palomino's Happy Hour specials, until meeting a couple of girlfriends at the restaurant bar for some post-work cocktails earlier this week -- half-price appetizers, $5 pizzas and $3 drinks. And all just around the corner from my office! On the advice of one of my friends, the three of us each enjoyed a Cosmic Rita ($3). Okay, we each had two cosmic ritas. Served up and rimmed with sugar, it was just the right amount of sweetness for the tart pink cocktail. We also indulged ourselves and shared a heaping plate of crisp waffles fries topped with gorgonzola cheese sauce & crumbles ($4). Near the bottom of the plate, I was wishing for more cheese, although that was likely due more to my love of cheese than a lacking of cheese on the plate! Due to Indiana law, the special drinks are always $3, but you can only grab the appetizer specials weekdays 4-6 p.m. and after 10 p.m.

Gori has decided she is going to shaadi some yummy desi ladka abi :D As in , aaj lol :P Next cheez is to re-write mehri Sri LKS questionnaire <-- (link is purani version na?) in order to do this. Economic circumstances notwithstanding, there are more than a few reasons why I've decided to put myself on the auction block (lol, hopefully not literally) so to speak. Maybe I'll even make a separate questionnaire for those dhukh, bara uncle crorepatis (usually goray/married desis, statistically speaking) who want to pay gori's $4-5K/mo (ha, that's while living as ek *renter* na? sigh) expenses San Francisco mein tik? lmao.. doubt if any of those bara uncles are that rich/generous lol! Phir seriously, I have decided since being abandoned by another desi would-be BF around Vday that I want to marry ASAP. Finding ek desi (well, pardesi na? we're not talking Kumar-esque ACBDs here lol) who is able to withstand family to do so is, not surprisingly, seemingly impossible. Lekin LTR with voh desi yaar doesn't seem to materialize, given the issues of utter lack of backbone/truth-telling among ur culture, unowatimsayin'? ;) Sometimes yes, sometimes nahin. Gori is tired of this cycle :( Poor gori na?

So.. in short: sub yummy Sri Lumba Kala Sundars (aur possibly Crorepatis)- 'Will you marry me?' :D

Be sure to check the photos page (aur of course, read at least a little of the (at present, somewhat out dated) blog so u know what ur getting into exactly lmao) before attempting to reply lol. Best way to do so is to weather the uber-lengthy (but humorous! promise!) Are u Sri LKS? quiz. Pyar mehray jaan :D Mehndi lagakay reckhna... dholi sujakay rekhna... leynay tuhje o gori... ayengay tehre sujhna :) tee hee.. we'll see! :D Happy Leap Day, so mote it be :D <-- ek diyan expression na? Notice how those char cheez rhyme ha ji? See I told u u'd better read the disclaimer (aka the blog itself) first tik? :D

HAPPY LEAP DAY!!!!!

I wish that I could remember Leap Days past, but I'm drawing a complete blank. In 2004 I had undergone laser eye surgery only 25 days earlier... I was newly amazed by my bionic vision (because it took me about a week and a half to stop seeing blurrily--PRK doesn't have quite as immediate results as Lasik does). I think, too, that I may have been attending Ground School at that time... But I'm not sure. In 2000, I was in a new(ish) job in Seattle, living in Tacoma... '96? College. Junior year... Sharing 2 dorm rooms with 3 other girls (here's a picture of me at that time with a baby sister of one of my roommates). Note the amazing amount of detritus piled around me on the radiator, the window seat, and the desk...

wait, no alarm? a day off? what? that's impossible!

yes, it is impossible. i have files and files in my bag that i brought home waiting to spend time with me tomorrow. at least i'll be able to do it while catching up on project runway though, right?

and LOST last night?

what. the. fbomb.

i didn't get to watch it until work today (where i also spent half the day in the hallway playing kickball with a beach ball) - so my staff thought i was dying/watching someone die the whole time. all i did was "WHAT?", "are you flipping kidding?", and "ahhhh i'm so confused!!!" through the whole show. again, reasons i don't have a boyfriend. it's impossible for me to shutup at important times. (important times being when LOST is on.)

i think i've forgotten to talk about the satc trailer. and the extended hills trailer. well, go watch them and we'll discuss. because leaving her at the alter? justin bobby? she-spencer? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

happy weekend! xo