Huzzah for democracy

It's sad, and yet somehow reassuring.

Poor Florida. I normally have no sympathy for Democrats, but the party has done them dirty. For holding their primary early, they get no delegates. As Fox put it, "The Democratic race is a beauty pageant."

Still, they've been voting all day. With 24% of the precincts in right now, Hillary already has nearly 300,000 votes, and Obama over half that. Nice that the democratic process lives on, even if the Democratic Party's national officials suck. Let them hold their primary early! Who cares? Heck, hold all the primaries on the same day and let's get this charade over with!

In other news, Ron Paul has a whopping 3% of the vote at this point. I'd say he's next to go, but then he's crazy.

Prop sale postscript

This afternoon, I bought a plastic bin in which to store my prop sale purchases, and, on a whim, a roll of bubble wrap. While I was taking the price stickers off my pieces and wrapping them, I finally got a good look at the markings.

Several pieces are handmade and dated.

One set, for which I paid $10, is signed, dated, and numbered (2/1000, to be exact).

And the real clincher: the two plates I'm not crazy about, the delicate ones with the blue and gold rims, are Wedgwood bone china.

I love prop sales.

Prop sale

Everyone (at least on the east coast of this country) has probably glimpsed a bit of news footage from the Filene's wedding gown sale. On a signal, the doors are opened and hundreds of brides-to-be stampede in, grab as many dresses as they can carry - whether they like them or not - and frantically strip in an effort to find the perfect gown at a fraction of the cost.

Today's prop sale was somewhat like that, minus the stripping.

What, then, is a prop sale? Periodically, one of the magazines' closets will get too full, and so they'll put out props from old photo shoots, priced at a fraction of the cost. This might not be so exciting if one has a nice, established home, but if one is a twenty-something female, the prospect of cheap plates is thrilling.

Of course, there are a ton of twenty-something females at the company, so one needs a decent bit of strategy to successfully manage a prop sale. Fortunately, our supervisors were only too happy to pass on tips.

First, you must arrive well in advance. As today's sale began at 12, a group of us interns gathered outside the doors at 11:15, sack lunches in hand, and ate in the hallway while we watched the pre-sale people leaving with their purchases. As soon as the hour rolled around, we rushed inside, grabbing items and only really considering whether we wanted them while we waited to check out.

Secondly, one needs to bring a bag of some sort. I neglected to do this, and ended up holding roughly 20 pounds of pottery in my arms for a good half-hour, waiting to check out. When I got back to my desk, my co-workers asked how I made out. "Well," I panted, "but I can't feel my arms."

Thirdly, one must not only go at the beginning of the sale, as the prices drop toward the end of the afternoon. When I went again at 2:15, everything was half-price. When my supervisor went shortly thereafter, everything was $1. And when I went for the final time, just after she returned, everything was 50 cents. I bought four $9 place mats and two chargers for a whopping $3. Not too shabby.

Fourth, one must look out for fights. I didn't see any today, but then again, this wasn't the largest prop show - they've had shows in the parking lot before. The things we do for castoffs...

Overall, I'm pleased with my purchases. I brought home two small plates I'm not crazy about - I grabbed them almost as soon as I got through the door - but most of the loot is nice, and I even managed to snag a bit for my sister. The crazy thing is thinking about how much this stuff would have cost at retail - my best buy of the day was a handmade bowl, originally $20, that I got for $2. They might not all match, but hey, now I have some serving pieces for my hypothetical apartment.

Come on, prop people, I need furniture.

Snow?

I'm feeling rather cheated right about now.

We were promised snow this weekend. For days, the weathermen cautiously built up the idea that Birmingham - yes, this Birmingham - would receive up to four inches of the white stuff. We haven't had a really decent snow since 1993, the infamous "Storm of the Century" that dumped a whole foot in places and paralyzed the city for a week, and we still have a Flexible Flyer in the garage that has yet to go for its maiden run, an impulse buy purchased in the hope that '93 would be repeated. To date, it has not, making northern transplants and southern kids who've never seen snow sad.

Anyway, we were gearing up for our four inches. Bread and milk were flying off the shelves. Firewood was purchased by the truckload. Pipes were dripped. And then...

...and then, we got maybe a whopping inch. Insult to injury, the temperature warmed enough to melt the damned stuff, leaving us with brown grass and sporadic patches of roadside ice. All the planning (and cancellation) came to nought, and the Great Blizzard of 2008 turned out to be a great big bust in Birmingham.

Still, Callie saw her first snow, and was predictably confused. She didn't like to pick up her snow-covered football, heaven only knows why. Border collies.

Sweeney Todd

My friend Roy braved the possible sleet (hey, this is Birmingham, and we take our winter weather seriously!) to see Sweeney Todd with me tonight. Having never seen the musical, I had heard that the movie was good but gory, and I was looking forward to seeing it, even if I ended up watching bits with my eyes closed.

I've got to hand it to Tim Burton and Johnny Depp - they make one heck of a weird, wonderful team. Add Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman, Sacha Baron Cohen, and Timothy Spall to the mix, and you've got a great cast of slightly twisted actors. Spall's a great toady - I recognized him from Enchanted, then later realized he's Peter Pettigrew in HP3 - and Alan Rickman has 'unlikeable' down to a science. The scenery is classically Burton-esque, the blood is so over-the-top it's only slightly disturbing, and the eyeshadow is abundant. Plus, someone is singing every time you turn around. It borders on camp, but it's a good time.

The only downside to the evening was the theater lights, which came on sporadically throughout the screening. Bizarre...

Nostalgia

It has taken me better than a week, what with work and a proofreading job to occupy my time, but I finally managed to complete my scrapbook tonight. This is my largest by far - I had to add an additional ten pages to the album, and that's the jumbo size - but since it begins back in the summer of 2006, I think it's justifiably large.

I've been doing yearly albums since China Tour at the end of high school. They make nice souvenirs, since I have a tendency to hold on to ticket stubs and programs. This one is more photo-heavy than my albums usually are, but Scotland's just so photogenic. Actually, most of my best pictures aren't in this album; landscapes are nice, but when you've only got room for so many pictures, you've got to maximize your space. I'll have some of those printed and framed when I get an apartment, and hang them near my Skye boat and coo pictures.

Strange, to look back over a year and a half of accumulated detritus. I've got everything in there from a plane ticket stub to Randy Owen's autograph...

What a weird year 2007 turned out to be.

Happy hour

This afternoon, I joined Dennis, Sarah, Sarah Louise, Amelia, Jen, Jason, and Jason's sister for Happy Hour at McCormick and Schmick's. The lure was the promise of $2 hamburgers. The catch was the two-drink minimum. Knowing that I would be joining my parents for dinner, I drank my wine, ate my hummus, and tried to pass my second carafe off on the only underage person at the table. I don't know if anyone finished it - I had to go early - but I hope someone did; $6 for a glass of house Riesling is a little steep.

My folks met me at Habañeros for dinner, and shortly thereafter, we met Juan, our server. Juan was a nice guy - he actually spoke English! - and he had us introduce ourselves after dinner: "You are Mom, you are Dad, and Princess is..."

Damn, I hate it when I blush.

Book fest!

Remember the book sale back in grade school? Every year, Scholastic would drive up with a truck of paperbacks and catalogues for the kiddies, and you'd take a catalogue home to your parents, who would either make a list of books for you to buy or (as you got older) just give you a blank check.

Man, I miss those days. My sister got me onto Susan Cooper, thanks to the book sale.

Today was kind of like that, minus the Animorphs titles. Apparently, books sent to the company that aren't used are occasionally given away. I snagged a few this afternoon, and was shocked by the selection sent to the department. Look, no matter how relevant to southern life the PR person thinks it might be, it's pretty safe to say that Tor's catalogue isn't going to be reviewed by this magazine any time soon.

Hey, I'm not complaining. I like Tor, and I'm a sucker for books.

Fun with airports

Bright and early this morning, we loaded up the car and drove Jen to the airport for her 9:55 flight back to school.

When we arrived, the desk clerk told us the plane had been delayed, so it wouldn't even arrive until 9:25 and boarding would be pushed back half an hour. Departure was scheduled for 10:20. Jen, being responsible, called her driver in Chicago and informed him of the change.

I called Jen after we got home to ask if she had meant to leave certain things behind. She had, and her flight had been delayed an hour or so, now due to mechanical problems.

Around 12:30, as we were finishing lunch, Jen called. Her flight had been cancelled and she was booked in for a 5 PM flight, but in the interim, she wanted to be rescued from the hell that is the Birmingham International Airport. As it turned out, the plane was having fairly significant issues, but it being Sunday, the mechanic had to be called in from home. He lives an hour away, and so there was quite a lag in informing the passengers that they wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

Half an hour later, we pulled up, loaded her luggage back into the car, and took her home. She and I then joined our friend Sarah for TCBY (because everything is better with frozen yogurt) before we took her back to the airport, making it our third trip of the day.

Around 8 PM, she called to say she made it safely back to Chicago, many hours after she'd planned to get there. Poor kid.

Mmm

This being Jen's last night home, we went out to dinner at Jackson's in SoHo. It's a cute restaurant, fairly trendy, and the menu seems appealing. I saved room, however, as I had been warned about a dessert I needed to try.

Cookie dough eggrolls, anyone?

Oh. My. God. Take two eggroll wrappers. Fill them with cookie dough. Flash-fry, then add a scoop of vanilla ice cream and liberally apply chocolate sauce to the whole thing.

Actually, it reminded me of a deep-fried Mars bar. Something one does once, perhaps, then reminisces upon fondly as one's arteries harden.

Suiting up

This morning began my new internship, meaning I was up at 6, pulled a business suit from the closet, and made it to work by quarter of 8. Yes, it was a bit on the early side, but I'll get to come in at 9 from now on. Of course, I also get to stay there until 5:30, but that's alright - I got the full tour today, and SPC has a truly amazing campus, complete with waterfall and patios that will be lovely once the temperature gets above 30. Say, Friday. We're in a bit of a cold snap at the moment.

I've only been there one day, but I'm really liking SPC. The people couldn't be friendlier, and the organization is incredible. Having only worked with small publications to this point, I was shocked at the sheer functionality. Then again, I've worked places where having an art bag is considered highly organized, so it may take me a bit to get acclimated. It's a very different environment, but I think I'm going to get a lot out of the next six months.

Now, if only my suit wardrobe lasts...

It's morning? It's 2008?

I didn't go to bed last night until a bit after 3:30, so sleeping until 9:30 doesn't seem that indulgent. Still, the sun is shining, the family's definitely up downstairs, and yet I don't really feel like getting out of bed. I should, but...just a few more minutes. That's what I said when my clock went off an hour ago, anyway.

The Trans-Siberian Orchestra was amazing. I hadn't realized it when I got the tickets, but our seats were on the side of the stage, in the first occupied row. We could not only see everyone exiting and entering (and the roadies), but we could make eye contact with the band. One of the guitarists and I had a moment - this happens when you smile at people - but not before he jumped onto the platform and, quite solemnly, flashed rock horns at the side bank. This was widely reciprocated, because come on, how often do you get to give rock horns non-ironically to a guy in a tux with tails? And the violinist had a pink electric violin. How cool is that?

One of my favorite parts of the show was during the second half, when they asked if we'd like to see everything turned on at once. By "everything", they meant the crazy overhead lights ("Welcome to the Starship Enterprise," the host told us during introductions), the lights behind those, the curtain lights, the laser cannons, and - yes - the multi-colored flares behind the band. Sitting where Anna and I did, you could feel the heat from the fire, and she and I donned sunglasses for the piece.

After the balloon and confetti drop at midnight, the guitarist who'd been hanging out on our side all night came down and said something to the effect of "So...you've all seen the video of the guy in Ohio who timed his Christmas lights to our song? Here's our version." They launched into "Wizards in Winter," complete with running lights like those on the guy's house, only they used lasers and the flares as well. Top that, Ohio guy with mad A/V skills.

The nice thing about the TSO is that they're...well, nice. We had a moment of applause for the soldiers ("who couldn't be with their families this holiday, and couldn't come to a TSO concert"), for the roadies, and for the firemen and police stationed around the place ("because they're celebrating New Year's in the hallway"). TSO also gives a few dollars from every ticket to charity, and since they started that initiative, they've raised a few million. Not bad for what can best be described as Christmas-themed symphonic rock/metal, eh?

To avoid the traffic jam of thousands of people attempting to exit the deck simultaneously, Anna and I escaped a bit early, then headed to my place, where Mom had laid out a lovely breakfast. And mimosas. Yum...

Okay, it's 2008 now. I should probably get up some time today. Happy New Year!