Month: February 2008

Random Monday morning musings.

This latest Clinstone behavior really pisses me off. As FSJ says, hoo boy. I did love Jon Stewart’s comment last night about how having a black or female president has historically meant (in the movies) that we’re in the future. We’re there now, and wow it’s amazing.

Diablo Cody DID win the Oscar for best original screenplay. I’m thrilled, there is poetic justice in the world, and I don’t think it will be long until we see HER story all over the place – Vanity Fair, People, and probably in its own screenplay before long.

Am drinking green tea instead of Diet Coke today. Thank you, Hadley, for finally pushing me over the edge. Pigs may be flying, people.

The Go Fug Yourself girls did a blow-by-blow blog of the red carpet tonight and I must say they are hilarious. Worth a read.
So far Jennifer Garner, Anne Hathaway, and Penelope Cruz are winning in my book. And of course George Clooney (though I confess I’m not sure I understand the appeal of his girlfriend). And man there are a lot of plastic boobs in Hollywood!
Really want Diablo Cody to win for Juno‘s screenplay.

Feathered Pipe


I listened to some old Madonna from the Ray of Light days today while running (and never fear, those of you tracking my terrible taste in music: Supertramp, Tina Turner, and Jesus Christ Superstar were rocking my world too). Reminded me of the years-ago yoga trip to Feathered Pipe Ranch in August 2000. It was an extraordinary week – the photo above didn’t survive very well but I still recall in my mind the view from the studio as I held pose after pose. We were a small group, and Baron and Rolf were pre-celebrity (at least what they are now) and were very much a part of the week. There were hours and hours of yoga – incredible sweat – long holds and lots of tears. We walked in the Montana hills every morning and ate surpisingly wonderful food. I stayed in a yurt and frequently walked out in the morning to see quiet deer wandering around. I’ve not had success with meditation, generally, but I felt closer to stillness this week than I have at almost any other time. I also felt like my body had been run over by a truck – I remember on day 3 that every single inch of me ached; even child’s pose hurt like hell.

I’ve long loved Maureen Dowd and I think she makes an excellent point in today’s editorial.
I’m lost in how the last two paragraphs about how each campaign has spent their money apply to the overall observation, so succintly summarized in the money quote:

And when historians trace how her inevitability dissolved, they will surely note this paradox: The first serious female candidate for president was rejected by voters drawn to the more feminine management style of her male rival.

Math of today:

8+ inches of snow +
6 hours in car to Vermont +
3 times children viewed Aristocats +
1 set of wireless headphones that tragically ran out of batteries +
0 minutes that anyone slept +
3 bathroom stops (awesome development is that Gracie has to go so it’s not always my fault) +
5 approximate minutes after arrival that I demanded a glass of wine +
36 ish hours until we have to do it again and head home

= not so much the best Friday of my life.