karnerblue

I love the Olympics, and the opening ceremony is always the best part.

London put on a great show, a really awesome event, capped by a torch-lighting that made a powerful moment even more meaningful. The British blood in me is proud tonight.

But more than that, the thing that always gets me, the thing that brings a tear to my eye, it's this gathering, this parade of nations, this global party. The whole world is in one place, gathered together, for a common goal, one peaceful celebration -- America and Iran, Sudan and Korea, France and Iraq, Tuvalu and Kiribati and Andorra and the Maldives, everybody, whether you hate each other usually or not, whether you have much money, or the rest of the world can even name what continent you're on, or are even good at sports, really, or not.

This is everyone's goal, the global pipe dream, the impossible, made possible: It's world peace. It's incredible, just awe-inspiring. And it gives you hope, a little. If we can achieve world peace, even just in a microcosm, in one city... maybe it could happen more than every few years, in more than one place, someday, just maybe.

A conversation with my honey this morning made me realize that while I covered terrible holiday songs on here, I never talked about the good ones, the ones that you hope to hear every holiday season and find yourself singing along to every time you hear them.

So, what're your top five?

Here are mine, though there are so many good ones that this list is subject to change from moment to moment:

5. "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" by Gayla Peevy: Such a cute song, and way more fun (and less annoying) than "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth."
4. "Keep Christmas With You": I'm pretty sure I learned this one in school, with the sign language. I'll bet a lot of you did, too. You don't hear this one that often these days, but it's a nice warm-fuzzy sort of song.
3. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney: This song is just so damn peppy, so happy-sounding, I can't help but bob my head when it comes on. :)
2. "12 Days of Christmas" by Straight No Chaser: Though I really like a few other interpretations of this song, too, (like the "12 Pains of Christmas" or the McKenzie Brothers version), I think this one's my favorite.
1. "Ain't No Hole in the Washtub": Alright, "Jingle Bells" it's not. But don't you have one holiday special or movie that you have to watch every year, without fail, and it's just not the holidays without it? For me, that's always been "Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas."

It's weird to be the one worried about instead of the one doing the worrying. And yet, here we were, the region blanketed in floodwaters and power outages, with the national news covering us and the Internet worrying about us. As it turned out, the downstaters, even though they got Hurricane Irene and we got Tropical Storm Ireme, got the better end of the deal, it would appear. Their damage doesn't look too bad. Ours, well, it was a mess.

I ran around Friday trying to batten down the hatches, picking up emergency nonperishables and jugs of water, filling every empty container in the house with either drinking water or regular tap water, making sure I had a flashlight with batteries, a radio with batteries, candles and a lighter, a charged phone and a charged camera battery (though I didn't think to charge the DS until Sunday morning). Saturday, I had to work, but we made sure to move all of our outdoor plants and furniture in, just in case. The storm was supposed to hit us early Sunday morning.

And hit it did. It was loud, raging winds and driving rain, so loud that it kept waking me up as I tried to get some sleep before what was bound to be a really long day. Around 8:15 a.m., we heard three really loud cracks, branches snapping off outside our window, and at that point, we gave up on sleep and jumped in the shower, so we could squeeze in one last shower before possibly losing water (and filling up the bathtub, again, just in case).

We scurried around getting showered, and then we scurried around some more making breakfast, again thinking that this might be our last hot meal for a while, let's try to cram in one last cooked breakfast. And then... we waited. And we read books. And we listened to the radio, hearing the litany of business closures and road closures and updates as the storm came through downstate, hearing about people being cut off, evacuated, stranded and rescued by helicopter in a couple of small Catskills towns.

And the storm raged outside all through the morning and into the afternoon, howling winds, driving rain. And then... it started to let up a bit. It started to pass around 3ish, and we still had power, and we didn't see any flooding outside, just a few fallen branches, though we heard that the road leading to our place was closed due to flooding.

By this point, I was getting stir-crazy. Funny, I thought a day in would be nice and relaxing, but I ended up getting cabin fever from being stuck inside all day. First, I went out on the balcony, just to be outside, even if only by a couple of steps. Then, I started agitating for a walk -- c'mon, it's only sprinkling now, let's go see the flooded road! Somehow, the plan snowballed, and we ended up not only walking up to see the flooding but also walking to Chipotle for dinner, then to Hannaford to buy groceries (amazing that they were both still open, but they were). It was a long, damp walk, and it was still windy and drizzly, but it was nice to get out of the house and get some exercise. After that, we mustered the courage to boot up the computer, just to check in and see how everyone else was going, and we saw the huge swaths of people without power on National Grid's map, including almost the whole town, except us. Lucky us.

Actually, the worst part around here wasn't Sunday, though there were a ton of power outages and closed (debris-filled or flooded) roads. No, the worst part was yesterday, Monday, when all of that water started to drain down, down into the rivers and streams, which quickly spilled over their banks and into everywhere, submerging Jumpin' Jack's in Scotia, rising over the patio at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que in Troy, filling streets and businesses and homes, and closing down roads and bridges all over, so that trying to get anywhere at all took hours of detours. On top of that, a barge broke loose on the Mohawk and threatened to wipe out the Twin Bridges and the Route 9 bridge, so both were closed for a while, until they could corral the wayward barge. That could've been an even worse disaster, if those bridges were taken out. But as it was, yesterday was a mess, a certifiable disaster, all over the region.

There was even word that a dam in Vischer Ferry might give, prompting a call encouraging people to evacuate and laying out details for where to go. The call also included a plea to stop calling Town Hall asking when the power would be on again -- they still didn't know. The town supervisor's message sounded frazzled, and I imagined that evacuees and officials alike were probably really stressed out. Those who can, do, and those who can't, bake, so I made two batches of cookies and took them over, one to Town Hall and one to the evacuation center (where, it turns out, not very many people were evacuating). I figured that if you're in a sucky situation, well, cookies make everything at least a little bit better. (In a similar vein, after two days of wall-to-wall crazy at the office, including reporters returning with tales of interviewing while standing in feet of mud and one who apparently looked for sources in a canoe, I brought in treats today. I figured we could use them, too.)

Today, at least the water's starting to recede a bit, and it looks like most people have their power back. I drove over the Mohawk on my way to work, and it was really, really high and the color of chocolate -- it made me think of Willy Wonka, of the stream that August Gloop drowned in. As for the damage, who knows. It's gonna be a difficult cleanup out there. I just hope that everything can be dried out and fixed up.

"On the shoulders of the space shuttle, America will continue the dream."

With these words, the space shuttle Atlantis blasted off this morning, beginning the final NASA shuttle mission.

I watched every moment of it, glued to the NASA TV feed online. And I must say, when Atlantis lifted off, I teared up a bit, watching it streak skyward.

I think we've all gotten far too jaded by the space shuttle. After all, I've never known a time when we weren't routinely sending astronauts up into space on shuttle missions. We've hardly been paying attention to space missions anymore, except when they go horribly, disastrously wrong, like Challenger and Columbia.

But think about it. We humans, we Americans, developed a ship, a ship that we can fire into space, with people on board! And we can bring them back, and then reuse that ship! When you think about the history of the human race, and the fact that gravity is a really powerful force that keeps us all bound to the earth's surface, and the fact that humans only figured out how to fight that force at all, for any length of time, about a hundred years ago... it's pretty amazing.

It's going to be sad to see these missions end. It's sad to think that no more kids will grow up to become space shuttle astronauts. And it's sad to see this great nation have to rely on the Russians and their inferior craft (and it is inferior) to continue our work at the International Space Station, when once, we were the pioneers of space exploration, the ones who built the first spacecraft, the ones who sent the first humans to the moon.

I can only hope that within my lifetime, something even better will replace the space shuttle, some new, innovative, more advanced craft that we can use to go onward and upward to greater things.

I'm so glad I went back to campus for my 10th reunion -- and I'm going to say right now, all my Sagies, go to yours, go, it's fun, trust me, I don't care if most of your friends aren't in your class, it's still fun.

The weekend started quietly for me, with check-in and some time to kill, so I wandered around campus, first doing their letterboxing challenge, then just taking pictures, 'cause I realized that I didn't have any digital pics of the campus. Then, I went to a book discussion, which was sort of interesting and a nice way to ease into the weekend.

Later on came the McKinstry brick dedication, where I got to see our E brick for the first time. Yay, we're immortalized! :) And I ran into some fellow Angels along the way (one of whom recognized me from the back... um, wtf? My back view has definitely changed a lot since college!), and it's funny, 'cause even though I was never close with most of my class (except Jess and Laura, who didn't come :( ), I was always well-known on campus, and the popular/in-charge types in my class would always include me in Rally stuff, things like that, and that hasn't changed. They were all really nice and glad to see me, and we all sorta flocked together (Angels of a feather...) during a good part of the weekend. There was a Sagettes show (well, two songs, a few renditions of the Alma Mater and a bunch of Rally songs) after our glorified dining hall dinner (trust me, the food gets better, keep reading), and when we all went up to do Seven Daffs and got to the introductions, I got a huge cheer from one corner of the room -- my Angels were in the house. :)

At the end of the night, we all ended up going out to the Ruck, and we were all a bit taken aback to be ID'd ... oh yeah, it's a bar, even if none of us look even close to underage anymore. It was a fun time, though -- we pushed a few tables together and ordered a few dozen of half-priced (and really tasty) wings.

The second day was even better, though it was tough getting up early after the night before (even though I was only out until maybe 11:40 or so... but I had to be back by 9, so ick). I started off with a Zumba class, so now I can finally say that I've tried that. It sure kicked my ass, but y'know, it sorta had more of an aerobics feel to it than dance, very sort of "just do what I do!", very short on breaks, too, so I don't think I'd want to take Zumba classes. I'm glad I got to try it, though.

Then, I had some time to cool down and change out of my workout clothes, and then I had a chair massage, my first professional massage, actually, short though it was. It hurt a bit, but y'know, my shoulders did feel looser afterward, for a little while, anyway. Though maybe I shouldn't have gotten too relaxed, 'cause I was really hurting during the president's speech, struggling to keep my sore eyes open and pay attention, even though it was a pretty good speech. LadiEs, here's some good news: she promised that as long as she's president, we won't go co-ed.

Lunch was pretty good, a pre-plated affair in the Aggie of grilled chicken, sesame noodles and chocolate mousse. Then came the Parade of Classes, which was really cool. It was a lot of fun, and I got to help carry our class banner, and they blocked off the street for us, and there was a marching band to lead us and play us into Bush. There were even a few spectators, husbands and boyfriends as well as some random residents who heard a band and came to see the spectacle.

The alumnae meeting was interesting, especially when they announced all of the class donations. We made our goal, w00t! Also, we were touched to see that there was actually a donation from the class of '36, $300. Class of '36! They'd be, what, almost 90 years old? And they still remembered their alma mater. Wish whoever it was could've come in person, so we could've thanked them -- the earliest class with a representative there was '46.

Afterwards, I went on a tour of the Washington Park area, which was... eh, long. Parts of it were interesting, but after a while, it was more walking, another house, more walking, another house. I skipped out a bit "early" (I put that in quotes 'cause the tour ran at least a half-hour longer than it was supposed to before I left), and by this point, my feet and legs were starting to kill me from so much walking around (and the Zumba, I imagine). I ended up just sitting on the low wall outside Buchman until cocktail time.

Yes, cocktail time... there was a cocktail hour in Bush, and it was an open bar for the rest of the night for everything except liquor. It was weird to see Bush turned into a reception area, a bar and a cheese-and-crackers station and butlered hors d'oeuvres. It was a preview of things to come, though. The class dinner was in the Robison gym -- and you never would have known, 'cause they dressed it up REALLY nice, fabric curtains and chandeliers and everything. It was totally swank. And so was dinner: filet mignon and salmon with green beans, carrots and roasted potatoes, plus wine, of course. Very classy, very nice.

And then came the afterparty -- desserts and coffee in Buchman and a dance party with open bar and platters of small sweets in Bush. It was a rockin' good time (though my legs and feet are still a bit sore, days later, from all of that walking and then dancing). It amazed me how much the older alums know how to party! Especially the class of '71 -- I want to be those ladies when I grow up. :) It was so cool, though, being out on the dance floor with all of these women, Devils and Cows and Shoes and other Angels, not knowing or caring who was which, 60-somethings and 40-somethings and 20-somethings (yes, there were a few '06'es there) all partying together and having fun. I hadn't really realized it until then, but it's like gaining a whole new set of classes above and below you, just spaced a bit farther apart -- and since the 1's and 6's are always together, we'll see the same ladies in 5 years (you better believe I'll be there). It was a whole new feeling of sisterhood, and it was really awesome. :)

I'm having my finger cut open tomorrow morning. They're going to remove a little cyst. I'm apparently going to be awake for the whole thing. And I'm freaking out. Like, what if I feel something? What if I hear something, like a scraping noise, or the doctor saying something alarming to an assistant? I kinda wish they'd just knock me out. Heck, maybe they will. Here's hoping, even if it means throwing up tomorrow afternoon.

It's been a year of facing my fears, or trying to, and I partly-faced another one yesterday, and it's a doozy.

I bought tickets to go down to NYC and go to ComicCon.

For most people, this is not such a big deal. But for me... I've hardly ever been to NYC before (too full of crime, too hard to get around -- the few times I've been were always with someone to guide me), and I've never bought train tickets, either. Also, I've never been to a con, so that'll be something. I would like to cosplay at a con someday, but that's pushing it a bit far for my first one, I think -- maybe the next time around. :)

And now I'm all sorts of eager for October to come, even though there's plenty to do between now and then (and besides, who wants to get closer to snow?).

March has been such a busy month that it's just flown right by. But it's also been a month in which I feel really on top of things, which is always a good feeling -- I had a ton of stuff on the to-do list, and for the most part, it's all either gotten done or is getting done.

I reregistered the car and changed the insurance. I got the car inspected, too, so I'm all legal for another year. I went to the dentist. I did a bunch of tidying up around the house and solved a pesky problem with the dishwasher. I bought a pant-ton of stuff for the baby shower and got the invites mostly done, and I settled on a punch recipe. I sold some perfumes and have a check coming in the mail for that. I baked a bit, as I usually do (what to make next week, now?). And yesterday, I bought a ton of stuff to springify the place, including gardening supplies, and this morning, I planted flower boxes. They'll probably die, 'cause I'm no gardener, but hey, I tried. And I have some potting soil left over, so I may plant something else next week, if I can decide what.

It's nice to accomplish things, nice to have that satisfying feeling of "well, THAT's done." Too bad this whole year is just so busy -- Easter's coming soon, and Jenn and Dan's party, and the baby shower, and then our birthdays (and maybe some sort of mini-vacation?). Before you know it, it'll be July already. Ah, well. You can't do anything about the passage of time, I suppose, except to try to make the most of the time you have. I certainly feel like I've been doing that lately.

Y'know, I think Johnny Weir is the smartest Olympian out there.

I mean, it's all well and good for all of these athletes to work so hard to get a gold medal -- but what happens afterward? Win or lose, your Olympic run has to end eventually. Even if you go again in four years, eventually, you'll have to stop. And then what?

If you want to stay in your field, stick with your sport, well, there are only so many slots available for coaches and commentators.

A small handful of Olympians, if they're good with their money, won't need to worry about what to do later -- they're the ones with the big endorsement deals. Michael Phelps should be set for life, if he doesn't squander his millions. Shaun White should be alright, too. And Lindsey Vonn, well, between her overcoming-the-odds story in these games and the fact that she's young and blonde and perky, she'll probably do fine with endorsements, too. But this is only a small number of the total number of people on Team USA.

There are opportunities out there, pro circuits, but mostly just the hardcore fans of your sport will pay attention to that stuff. There's not a ton of money to be made. But in ice skating, there are actually a few places where, if you're famous and enough regular folks care about you, you might just do alright for yourself -- say, those Stars on Ice tours.

Now, Evan Lysacek is a talented guy, for sure, and he won gold, and good for him. But is anyone gonna remember his name in six months? Nah, not many, not until four years from now, when we pay attention to figure skating again for a while. He's just another technically brilliant man going out there and skating to some classical piece we've probably never heard.

But Johnny Weir? He's still an Olympic-caliber skater, but he's also got personality. He goes out there and skates well, and he does it in over-the-top costumes to Lady Gaga. He might actually be remembered. He may not be taking home gold, but he's started to cement a post-Olympic future, one where people will buy tickets to go see him perform on a pro tour 'cause he's an interesting character who puts on a show that'll keep your attention. And that makes him savvier than most on our Olympic team.

2010's been off to a sorta busy start, hasn't it? And March looks to be totally batshit, and I already have stuff planned in April, and May, and, and... eep. No wonder time flies, huh?

Life's going pretty well overall. Last weekend was Valentine's Day, which was nice. It was also Chinese New Year, so we went out for Chinese food (yum!). Other than that, it was a pretty quiet day, but I have no complaints.

Shannon and I went to Rally Night last night. The Devils won, yay! RE, DRE, DR, EDRE, DR, EDRE-DRED-RED! Also, they changed the color of the Angels' sweaters, which was a bit disconcerting, 'cause now they won't match the rest of us from now on. Even the blazers, I think, are about the same shade of blue as my sweater is. But they had to switch manufacturers, apparently, and the new people couldn't do the usual color, for some reason. So this year's freshmen have sweaters that are a much darker color, more like a royal blue. It's still sorta bright, though -- it actually goes kinda nicely with the Cows' purple.

Other than that, not a whole lot going on, except baking, lots of baking. I've made four brownie recipes in the past two weeks, and I still haven't found one that's a keeper. They're all so fudgy, so paste-y in the mouth, except one that was a tad cakier than ideal. Everyone I know is gonna be totally brownie'd out by the time I hit on the right formula.