To Paris and Back

John is taking me to Paris for my birthdaaaay! Whoop! As of next Friday, I will be a fabulous twenty-two year old...in Paris. In my opinion, this is so much better than being twenty-two in the States. Basically, I've been going insane at work. My job is absolute nonsense, and I contribute nothing to the company. This insanity led me to travelocity.com where I found very affordable plane ticket/hotel room deals. John jumped on board when we discovered we could go over Memorial Day, taking only 2 days off work for a 6-day trip.

As if that wasn't enough good news, John has an audition to be on Jeopardy! He did really well on the online test and got an email to go to Chicago on the 29th. He's letting me tag along and will take me to the planetarium after his audition. I can't wait! I've always wanted to use one of those GIANT telescopes.

And even more good news, the weather has finally warmed enough to let us down to the beach. There is nothing better than a Sunday of sack lunches and Scrabble next to the lake. So lovely.

This weekend, we are headed home for Alex's graduation and Christine's baby shower. Brett and Brad have both selected names for the coming loin fruit. Brett is keeping the name a secret (though I know what it is), and Brad and Lyndsay will have themselves a little Ella Riley.

Yay.

None Shall Sleep

So things at work got a little slow today, and I decided to compare and contrast different versions of "Nessun Dorma." Clearly, my employment is a necessity here. I can't believe some of the people who have attempted this: Michael Bolton, seriously?

Luciano Pavarotti
Lani Misalucha
Paul Potts
Aretha Franklin
Andrea Bocelli
Michael Bolton
Deanna Durbin
Joaquin Aguilar
Sarah Brightman

What makes me particularly sad is trying to compare anyone to Pavarotti--he sings it so effortlessly. Bocelli isn't a bad second, but it still isn't the same because his voice is so soft. Aretha Franklin tried to make it hip, and it didn't work well. Paul Potts and Joaquin Aguilar were actually very good. I couldn't handle any of the female versions, however. And I hate Sarah Brightman.

The conclusion of this experiment: Pavarotti's performance in Paris 1998 is the best version of "Nessun Dorma" available.

English translation:
"None shall sleep. None shall sleep. Even you, O Princess, in your cold bedroom, watch the stars that tremble with love and with hope. But my secret is hidden within me; none will know my name. No, no! On your mouth I will say it when the light shines! And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine. No one will know his name... and we will have to, alas, die, die. Vanish, o night! Set, stars! Set, stars! At daybreak I shall win. I shall win! I shall win!"

Needing money and Novocain.

Wisdom-teeth Friday is much closer than I’d like. I’m getting them pulled the day after tomorrow, and I’m not happy about it. I just don’t like people poking and scraping things in my face with sharp metal objects—I find the whole process to be very unpleasant. Unfortunately, our insurance doesn’t cover the entire operation, so we have to do a co-pay. The nitrogen is an extra $85 and the IV is an extra $350, which means I’m just going with the Novocain and my Shins cd. Hopefully the two will be enough to carry me through.
On the bright side, I get to take a day off work, eat lots of pudding, and watch good movies. John has also promised to feed me soup and rub my feet all weekend. It will suck to have four holes in my mouth, but at least I’m getting pampered in the process.

Other things in life are straddling the good/bad fence. I’ve lost 16 pounds since the new year without any trouble at all, and spring is really starting to elbow its way into our region. I am, however, slowly beginning to realize how much I hate my job. Sure we get to wear jeans to the office and I spend most of my day watching movies at my desk, but I would really like to contribute something to the company—something other than copying notes off of white boards after other peoples’ meetings. I’m an intelligent girl, but I can feel my brain rotting away in my skull. It’s really got me thinking about trying to get back to school, but I can’t decide between a Masters degree or a teaching degree. Plus, there’s always the matter of payment. Stupid money, making the world go round.

Fast like "Pink Bullets"

Oh dear God, yes. It’s the first day of spring. John and I have already been down to the beach a couple times—given we were bundled up and toting blankets, but it was still fantastic. It will only be a matter of time before we’re relaxing in swimming suits and freezing our asses off in the water. Other than the sudden brush of spring excitement, things in St. Joseph have been slow and steady.

I finally made a trip back home last weekend. I got to rub Christine’s pregnant belly and introduce myself to my soon-to-be nephew. He just keeps growing and growing in there. There is still no word yet on the sex of Brad and Lyndsay’s baby, but rumor has it that if it’s a boy, he will be named James. And to answer the question that inevitably follows this news: John and I have absolutely no plans to reproduce any time soon.

We’re starting to make our plans for our next big vacation (which will be sometime next year). He wants Spain, and I want France. Yesterday, I proposed Egypt as a compromise, and we’re both intrigued by the idea. We also made the deal that if I can lose 71 pounds, he’ll take me back to Scotland (bonus vacation) to hike in the highlands. So far, I’ve knocked off 14. It’s progress, but I’m not shopping for hiking boots yet.

I’m just amazed at how much faster time passes after college and marriage. Every day is flying by so fast. I feel like I really need pull back on the reigns and slow things down. But reproducing brothers and soon-to-be retiring parents keep pushing the fast forward button. I hate to risk jinxing it…but can life really keep being this good? I hope so.

The time has come.

For yeeeeears Mr. Quentin Tarantino has been working on a little movie titled "Inglourious Basterds." First, I did spell the title correctly. Second, the teaser has finally been released, and it looks magnificent.

Destroy Nazis and enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pel3GE97evA

Valentine's Day weekend.

To prove I wasn't exaggerating in my previous post, yesterday was "Ice Sculpting" day in Saint Joseph. Dozens of artists set up shop in the middle of downtown and were each given a giant ice block. By the end of the afternoon, every street corner in downtown Saint Joseph sported an ice sculpture depicting anything from a dragon to an otter. John and I got icecream and watched the madness from The Chocolate Cafe.

Valentine's Day was wonderful. We had a beautiful candle-lit dinner of Chinese takeout--complete with fortune cookies and a carton of blueberries. After the food intake, we went to see Friday the 13th, but the stupid show was sold out. Instead, we hit up The International (which was fabulous) and saw Friday the 13th (which was fabulous) the next day. We polished off the night with a bottle of wedding Champagne and a viewing of Duck Soup--our first Marx brothers experience. It left a good impression.

On a side note, my current reading material couldn't possibly be more varied. My [very slow] ongoing Ulysses project is still underway, with World War Z (zombie novel) and Howl (poetry collection of Allen Ginsberg) making significant appearances. The last two Twilight novels are calling my name, but I'm trying to save them for the week John goes to Colorado. I'll need something to keep me busy on the train ride home.

I also made the mistake of investigating the planetarium in Chicago. Now I can barely contain my excitement to go. John promised to take me in April. He's going to take me to the aquarium too. I'm feeling good about it.

A Fairytale Town

I walked to work with an umbrella today. It was the first rain of the season. It is perfect lay-on-the-couch-with-a-good-book-and-giant-comforter weather, and I wish I could do just that. Instead, I'm sitting through work with very little to do because my company insists on underestimating my abilities. The teasing of spring is holding up my spirits though, because I remember what summer is like in Saint Joseph.

Every town has the "bad" parts of town, and St. Joe isn't an exception. But in the summer, the downtown area is transformed into something of a fairytale place. Every corner has a sailboat statue that doubles as a sandbox for kiddies. The stores move their goods outside so folks can shop in the sun, and the roads are all made of brick. Every weekend, artists bring their work to sell in hoards along the bluff overlooking the lake. On Saturdays, the local farmer's markets bring in fresh produce and the 1,000 fudge shops in town renew their delicious supply. It's never too hot to eat lunch outside because of the perfect breeze that comes off the water, and John and I get to sit by the beach and read and swim for hours.

Quaint. I suppose that's the word.