"I say witch is just a buzzword for a girl who happens to follow her completely healthy, totally natural urges, and explore her sexuality. But see, you can't do that in school in the swingin' 1690's without getting the good townsfolk all up in arms."
-- Jen, "Dawson's Creek"

A town in Scotland is cleaning up a messy piece of its past by granting pardons to some 81 locals executed during the 16th and 17th century for being "witches." This period in history is widely known as the Burning Times. Some scholars estimate that in countries' hysterical and rampant rooting out of "evil," some 100,000 people were lynched, burned, strangled, tortured, drowned -- usually with no actual evidence of "witchcraft" existing. It's impossible to know for certain how many died.

There's still a stigma fastenned to people who call themselves pagans or wiccas. The names themselves still have a connotation of something evil or satanic -- as something insulting. Most dictionaries still list "witch" as a slang for bitch, or as someone evil or devilish. But at least now we can allign with these belief systems and not fear being burned at the stake. Some newer and on-line dictionaries even include more flattering definitions of pagan and witch. It's refreshing.

Halloween actually takes root in Samhain (pronounced Saw-When), the Celtic New Year. It believed that on this day, the veils between the living and the dead are at their thinnest point and that the spirit world can intermingle with the living. Pretty cool.

Oh, and since some of you asked, here are some photos from the 80s party last weekend. They're classic.
  ¶ 10:40 AM

  "When I was little I, like, worshipped Halloween. And truthfully, part of me still does. 'Cause it's your one chance all year to be someone else."
-- Angela Chase, "My So-Called Life"

It occurs to me that most female Halloween costumes for sale on-line and in costume shops are inherently slutty. What cop do you know that dresses like this? And as a pirate, wouldn't it be hard to scale the mast in heels? And what the hell is this "cherry pie costume"?

But I have to fess up, there is something fun about donning a semi-trashy Halloween costume. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not about to run around town in lingere or anything. But it's fun to be a little risque on that one night of the year (or, really, the entire weekend surrounding that one night of the year) when anything goes.

That said, I wracked my brain for costume ideas and was drawing blanks. I asked the ever-inventive Sharon for advice, and she suggested I call Mary. Of course! You must understand, Mary is the wonderwoman of creativity, crafts and clever costuming. She has something for everything and everyone any time. She found Casey and Kirsten a coffee table, and a dog. When I needed a fan, and mentioned it to Mary, one appeared at the house within 24 hours. So, Sharon mentioned my costume conundrum to Mary, and Mary immediately offered one up. So it was earlier this afternoon that I found myself in Mary's amazingly cluttered-yet-put-together apartment -- stuffed nook to cranny with records, enormous oil paintings, candles and pillows -- with a spare tavern wench costume in hand, which she picked up at some local thrift store for her very Catholic daughter, who rejected it. "She's probably dressing up as an angel or something," Mary sniffed, re: her daughter. The daughter's castoff is my claim! The tavern wench costume is in my car, and I can't wait to prance around in it at Saturday night's Halloween party!

Of course, when I told Scott I was going as a tavern wench, he said wryly, "Aren't you supposed to wear a costume?" (That comment will probably make Erin love Scott even more.)

Keeping with the fun theme of quizes on blogs, here's one: Which halloween costume are you? Not surprisingly, mine tells me to "join the culture club," which basically means I should dress up as someone famous because I crave fame. Duh.
  ¶ 4:04 PM

  "It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces."
-- Bridget, "Bridget Jones' Diary"

This morning I made hashbrowns -- successfully, I would say, for the first time in my life. I consider myself something of a potato queen, not just because I adhere to the philosophy of that aforementioned organization, but because my family members were/are potato farmers and five generations ago were founding member of the potato farming community of Malin, Oregon; and also because I really, really love potatoes.

But I could never figure out hashbrowns. Darn things always turned out gummy and pink. Then I dated Loren, a chef, who taught me the best way is to grate the taters into water, let them sit for a while to soak out the starch, then drain them and squeeze all the water out of them you can, before then spreading them thin in hot oil. Yum! Try it, seriously.

(And for those of you up to speed on Loren's accident, he is finally out of the hospital, staying at a friend's house in Mexico and undergoing exhausting rehabilitation. I was able to correspond with him by e-mail for the first time since the accident this past week. He still can't move his legs or right side, but has use of his left arm and hand and is improving. His recovery is a testament not just to his stubborness, but strength of the human spirit.)

Other notes:

- The Portland Brewing world has lost an icon. Raise your mugs and offer up a grateful toast to Robert Malcolm "Mac" MacTarnahan.

- CBS has announced the Amazing Race 6 teams. Any early favorites, DeAnn?

- Erin has changed her blog address.

- E! online has a really fun article on Lost, my new favorite show. New episode tonight! Don't miss it!
  ¶ 10:21 AM

  "Grab a brew. Don't cost nothin'."
-- Bluto, "Animal House"

It's things like this that make me wish I was back at Oregon State. I love the ingenuity of these guys, seriously. Maybe they aren't getting the beer for free -- but hey, free dart board!

It snowed a little last night but was gone, replaced by rain, when I woke up this morning. No big deal to me. It will snow and stick around soon enough.

Scott absolutely destroyed me playing Scrabble last night. In the second game he had two "bingos" -- Scrabble geek terminology for when you use all seven letters to make a word. It's worth an automatic extra 50 points. And one of the words he did this with was "requiem." Only he made it plural, "requiems," and the "s" pluralized an existing high-point word. So he got points for both words. And "requiem" was on a triple word score. Scott made me take a picture of the game board afterward. Really.
  ¶ 1:13 PM

  "That's why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they'd call them something else."
-- Jim, "Sixteen Candles"

Another fun weekend, here and gone.

Friday night was actually fairly uneventful. Shanda came over for a bit so we could continue our shared obsession with playing Rummy. We also watched the newest episode of America's Next Top Model, another shared obsession. I'm rooting for Yaya, because she seems genuinely sweet; Eva, because despite the attitude, she's a firecracker; Toccara, because I've gotta support the "big" girl; and Norelle, who's become a favorite since losing her braces. I know this show is all about vanity and looks -- but the judges also do take into consideration a girl's personality. They've previously cut girls for being too smug, too vain, too dismissive of criticism, etc... Anyway, we also watched some of "Dirty Pretty Things," and John came over later on, in time to watch the tailend of part of Comedy Central's Southpark marathon.

Woke up Saturday to a dusting of snow, which continued to fall infrequently throughout the day but had largely melted by nightfall. I had an eye-opening trip to the Elmendorf Airforce Base commisary. Everything there was sooo cheap. I have found a new way to escape poverty.

Saturday night was the 80's party in Eagle River. Great times had by all. Lots and lots of dancing. Crazy costumes. Had a blast.

Yesterday was mellow. I spent most of the day being very lazy, feeling like I might be coming down with a cold. Nicole stopped by in the afternoon to watch the latest episode of "Lost." Words can't describe how much I love this show. I am hopelessly addicted and it has made Wednesdays all the more fun. And I love that I have several friends equally addicted. Plus it's fun to watch it with them because sometimes the show is downright scary. Like with the dolls in the water. Ugh.

Sunday evening was spent hanging with John and had to take him to the airport EARLY this morning, and am still tired because of it. He is headed for job training in Georgia, for this fabulous place. I remain in Anchorage, alas with many hours left to go in my work day. Have a thrilling Anchorage School Board meeting tonight. Think happy thoughts for me.
  ¶ 2:26 PM

  "I'll never love anyone like I love my sister."
-- Erin to me, and right back at her, many many times

Today is Erin's 23rd birthday!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER! I LOVE YOU!!!

It's great having a sister. Brothers are great too, don't get me wrong. But a bond with a sister is special. Toward Erin, I can feel maternal, and like a sorority sister -- sometimes at the same time. I know I can tell her anything and she will never judge me. I think she knows the same is true for me. I can call her if I want to babble about favorite TV shows, and I can call her if the walls are crashing down around me. We can have the best time doing nothing but laying around eating cheap fattenning food and watching "Gilmore Girls" and trashy Lifetime movies. We can also read each our journals outloud to each other without hesitation or censor, and we share the same strange sense of humor that seems to run pretty rampant through my family.

I remember the moment Mom told me she was pregnant with Erin. I was really bouncing off the walls -- excited enough to leap off a chair, if I remember correctly. I already had Scott, and he was great, as far as brothers go. But I really wanted a sister.

And I got the best one in the whole world.

I love you, Sister!

In honor of Erin's birthday, and the impending weekend, I will offer a few of my all-time favorite sister bonding movies:

* White Christmas. Because, duh, it has the song "Sisters." And it's a good warm-and-fuzzy holiday flick complete with romance, war heroes, and plenty of song and dance. Quoteable: "It's cozier, isn't it? Boy, girl, boy, girl?" - Phil Davis.

* Little Women. Another obvious one. It's about sisters! I'm actually ashamed to admit I'm not familiar with the older versions, but the most recent production has its charms. Quoteable: "I feel stronger with you close by." -- Beth March

* Cinderella. OK, the sisters in this movie pretty much suck. But Cinderella finds true sisterhood with the mice and her fairy godmother -- and also, this is Jessica's favorite movie so I felt obligated to include it. Quoteable: "Thus, as time went by, the chateau fell into disrepair, for the family fortune was squandered on the vain and selfish stepsisters." - Narrator

* The Parent Trap. I'm talking about the 1961 Hayley Mills version, not the 1998 Lindsey Lohan version. In this case, older is better. Quoteable: "Congratulations. In the history of this camp, that was the most infamous, the most disgusting, the most revolting display of hooliganism we have ever had." - Miss Inch

* The Virgin Suicides. A great flick for people who feel depressed about the five beautiful and somewhat cloistered Lisbon sisterse. Quoteable: "We knew the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love, and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them. " - narrator
  ¶ 2:11 PM

  "If you don't have time to do it right the first time, why do you have time to do it again?"
-- Matt Lavoire

Ah, what an excellent question, Matt. Ideas, anyone?

I'm going to a party this weekend with an '80s theme and it got me thinking about '80s fads... the horrific bangs and jelly bracelets, Debbie Gibson and Tiffany, Cabbage Patch Kids and Garbage Pail Kids. I wonder what we do now that we'll look back on later and roll our eyes at. Trucker hats? Ponchos? Uggs? Of course, I don't own any trucker hats, or ponchos, and would own uggs but can't afford them. Actually, I can't think of any current trends that will seem so horrifying in retrospect -- at least not any that I buy into or can afford to buy into. Of course, I say that now... Maybe my drawstring camo pants won't seem so cool down the road.

By the way, doing an innocent search on google for jelly bracelets, I found they are also known as "sex bracelets" -- that the different colors represent different sexual acts the wearer is willing to perform. I guess I shouldn't have worn those eight pink ones at once, eh? Oops. Am I the only stupid person in the world that didn't know jelly bracelets are covert invitations to sex?

Here's a good music link for those of you stuck in front of computers all day. It makes the time pass, at least.
  ¶ 3:41 PM

  "Gentlemen, trials are too important to be left up to juries."
-- Rankin Fitch, "Runaway Jury"

"Runaway Jury" was on HBO the other night, but I was too tired to watch it... so I taped it and got around to watching it last night. I liked it -- didn't love it. The ending did surprise me and I like movies that surprise me. The action was solid too, and I have a shameless crush on John Cusack so it was fun to see him play an edgier role.

Speaking of John Cusack... Which John Cusack are you? I'm apparently Rob Gorden from "High Fidelity" -- "Lovesick. Stuck in the past a bit. But hey, you have a kickass record collection." Nice.

In other news...

Nome is flooding! They say it's the worst storm in 30 years. Nasty.

Dave Barry has announced he's taking a leave of absence. In his honor, I will post an OLD humor column of his, written on a visit to Alaska. It's long and in two parts, but very good. And Craig Medred, the friend mentioned in the story, is one of my favorite Daily News employees -- and Dave does not at all exagerate Craig. He did indeed get mauled by a bear -- and shot it. Craig is also known for rolling the publisher's snowmachine off a cliff. Anyway.... Here we go:

MOOSE, EARTHQUAKES AND FROZEN EAR STUFF
Dave Barry
13 June 1995

As a lover of nature and a rugged outdoorsperson, I enjoy going to remote areas where I can relax and possibly be eaten. So in late April I hopped on an airplane, then another, then eight or nine more airplanes, until finally I reached Alaska (State Motto: "Speak Up! Our Earwax Is Frozen!").

Following is Part One of a two-part report on my trip. (Part Two will appear next week. Both parts are tax-deductible.)

DAY ONE - I arrived in Anchorage, and as is the ancient custom in "The Land of the Midnight Sun," I had the airplane seat cushion surgically detached from my butt. It was evening, but there was still plenty of daylight left, and I knew that within just a few miles of downtown there were many spectacular unspoiled areas, virtually untouched by human civilization. So I went to a bar.

There I had a few beers with my friend Craig Medred, who splits his time between writing a column for The Anchorage Daily News and trying to get himself killed. Craig is a serious, by which I mean clinically insane, sportsperson. He's the kind of guy who's always heading out to the wilderness for days at a time, crawling around in the snow, chewing pine cones for nutrition, engaging in some extremely rugged sporting challenge such as hunting wolverines with a letter opener. One time, while riding a mountain bike, he fell off a 75-foot cliff; another time, while moose-hunting, he encountered some bear cubs - and their mother, who attacked and hospitalized him. ("Maul first, ask questions later," that is the mother-bear child-care philosophy.)

In all my years as a newspaper columnist, I have never so much as received an angry letter from a bear.

My evening at the bar with Craig was surreal. People were talking about the urban moose problem. It had been a very snow-intensive winter, even for Alaska, and there were moose wandering all over Anchorage. This can create problems, because moose, in addition to being humongous, are the disgruntled postal workers of the animal kingdom. Anchorage residents routinely call their employers and say they can't come to work right away on account of there is a moose on the porch. (Do not try this in San Diego.)

Anyway, we were sitting at the bar when somebody said, very calmly, "We're having an earthquake."

"What?" I said, adding: "Now??"

"Look at the lights," somebody said. Sure enough, the chandeliers were swinging back and forth.

Nobody seemed remotely alarmed by this. People were more interested in discussing Craig's court case. It turned out that Craig had been arrested and tried on charges of towing a canoe on a railroad track; it had something to do with hunting ducks.

As it happened, Craig's lawyer was also in the bar (this kind of coincidence occurs often in Alaska, which has only about 150 residents total). He came over to discuss the case, which ultimately came out in Craig's favor. The lawyer said this was because Craig groveled before the judge, although Craig views the ruling as an affirmation of the right of every American to tow canoes on railroad tracks.

At 10 p.m. it was still light outside, but I was exhausted, so I trudged the two blocks back to my hotel, keeping a wary eye out for moose and other urban criminal elements. Yes, Alaska does have crime. I know this because a reader sent me excerpts from Dispatch Alaska, a section of The Anchorage Daily News that reprints items from other newspapers around the state. Here are some items:

From The Seward Phoenix: "Male reported that his dog was stolen from his residence, and he had a ransom note."

From The Sitka Daily Sentinel: "A man was reported to be beating on a boy, but the two turned out to be having a dandelion fight."

From The Skagway News: "A business owner reported that someone broke the hand off her mannequin. A possible suspect may be a man with a blue and yellow shirt, sandy-colored hair and a long skinny neck who walks humped over."

Despite this crime wave, I made it safely back to the hotel. I immediately went to bed so as to rest my body for further Alaskan adventures, which could, I knew, require me to actually leave the hotel vicinity. But that is the price you pay when you possess the kind of pioneering spirit exemplified by men such as Lewis and Clark, both of whom - and don't try to tell me this is coincidence - are dead.

HUNGRY POLAR BEARS PART OF ALASKAN ADVENTURES
Dave Barry
24 June 1995

IT'S time for Part Two of my two-part series on the exciting, dramatic and -- above all -- tax-deductible Alaskan Adventure trip I took earlier this spring.

As you recall, in Part One I recounted the events of my first day in Alaska, during which virtually nothing happened. This leads us to: DAY TWO-- woke up in a nervous mood, because I knew this was the day that I would boldly leave the hotel altogether and -- armed with nothing stronger than Certs brand breath mints -- face a polar bear.

This can be extremely dangerous. Polar bears are fiercely aggressive meat-eating hunters that weigh upwards of 1,000 pounds and can run down a horse; the only real hope I had for surviving this encounter was the fact that this particular polar bear lives in the Anchorage Zoo.

It frankly struck me as pretty strange that Anchorage even bothers to have a zoo, seeing as how, as I noted in Part One of this series, there are already plenty of large and sometimes hostile animals wandering around the city loose. You could easily have a situation where you'd be unable to go to the zoo to see the moose or bears because there was a non-zoo, free-lance moose or bear standing on your patio.

Fortunately I had no trouble getting to the zoo, and I soon found myself face-to-face with the zoo's star polar bear, Binky, who, in terms of size, is basically a Winnebago motor home with teeth.

Binky became a major news story in Alaska last year when, on separate occasions a few weeks apart, he attempted to eat two people. The victims, both of whom survived, had climbed over two fences to get close to Binky's cage. One of them was an Australian tourist, who said she climbed the fences because she wanted to take a close-up photograph; she wound up with her leg in Binky's mouth. I saw a videotape of the attack, taken by another zoo visitor, showing several men beating on Binky with sticks through the cage bars, trying to make him let the woman go. You can tell that the woman is thinking: Next time, I am definitely going to Disney World.

If there is one fundamental, unifying principle of human psychology, it is that everyone, everywhere, regardless of age, gender, religion or ethnic origin, hates tourists. So when Binky chewed on one, he instantly became a major celebrity, like Kato Kaelin, but with a higher IQ. Alaskans fell in love with a freeze-frame video picture, taken by a local TV news cameraman, showing Binky wandering around his cage, looking a little wistful with the Australian woman's sneaker in his mouth.

Entrepreneurs put this image on T-shirts, which still sell by the thousands, along with all kinds of other Binky merchandise (one woman showed me a pin she was wearing -- a little white polar bear with a little silver sneaker in its mouth).

Binky was sleeping when I arrived at his cage, but after a few minutes he got up and started engaging in routine bear behavior such as yawning, pacing around, diving in his pool, phoning his agent, etc .I could not help but notice that Binky's cage still is not particularly well protected; it would be pretty easy for a tourist to hop over the two low fences, get to the cage and become Purina Bear Chow. It's almost as though the zoo wants this to happen (NEXT TOURIST FEEDING: 3 p.m.).

I myself did not get anywhere near Binky, because I wanted to stay in peak, nonmauled physical condition for the strenuous activities scheduled for the final day of my Alaskan Adventure, also known as: DAY THREE -- The big event of Day Three was a helicopter tour of some glaciers, arranged by -- speaking of getting chomped by bears -- Anchorage Daily News columnist Craig Medred, who, as you recall from Part One of this series, is an outdoorsperson so rugged that he makes Davy Crockett look like Martha Stewart.

After receiving a safety briefing from our pilot, Lambert DeGavere, we took off from the Anchorage airport and headed for the mountains. I am not a religious person, but as I viewed the spectacular panorama of breathtaking scenery below, I could not help but ask myself: What the heck kind of pilot is named "Lambert'?

An excellent pilot, as it turned out. Lambert gave us a terrific tour, swooping along mountain peaks and valleys, giving us all kinds of fascinating information about glaciers, which are -- forgive me if I get technical for a moment -- giant wads of ice caused by geology. At one point we landed on a rocky outcrop next to a particularly scenic glacier, and there, many miles from the nearest convenience store, we had lunch. As we sat there, contemplating one of the most overwhelmingly beautiful views I've ever seen, Craig said something -- call it an insight; call it a revelation -- that struck a responsive chord deep in my soul.

"I had this flight billed to The Anchorage Daily News,' he said, "but they don't know it yet.'

That's the kind of bold, "can-do' spirit that makes Alaska what it is today, and if you're the kind of person who enjoys nature, I urge you to visit "The Land of the Midnight Sun' so that you can experience, firsthand, the mountains, the glaciers, the rivers and -- above all -- the zoo. Binky's getting hungry.
  ¶ 10:49 AM

  "Please don't say anything important 'til I come back."
-- Margaret Dashwood, "Sense and Sensibility"

Stayed home from work yesterday. Shanda came over (had the day off) to watch "Sense and Sensibility," one of my favorite flicks. Kate Winslet is fabulous in that film.

Since I have a lot of catching up to do, today's entry is again one of those Q&A things stolen from DeAnn's blog.

Name THREE of your:

1. Pet Peeves: People who don't use turn signals. Cell phones in movie theatres (especially when people ANSWER their phones and HAVE CONVERSATIONS. Yes, this happens!). People who say they'll do something, then don't -- basically flakey can't-follow-through people.

2. Favorite Sounds: Rushing water, crackling fires (camp fires, not like houses burning down or anything like that), and guitar music. All three of these things together? Priceless.

3. Favorite Kinds of Candy: Not a big candy fan. So, um... Skorr candy bars.... Tootsie Pops. And, um, Jolly Ranchers.

4. Biggest Fears: Poverty. Failure. Boredom.

5. Biggest Challenges: Overcoming debt. Keeping my desk clean. Understanding myself.

6. Favorite Department Stores: Target. Nordstrom. Powells.

7. Most Used Words: "Are you kidding me?" (that's four, I know).

8. Favorite Pizza Toppings: Feta, grilled chicken and black olives.

9. Favorite Cartoon Characters: Johnny Fedora and Alice Blue Bonnet. And... The Snowman.

10. Movies Recently Watched: "Shaun of the Dead." "Sense and Sensibility." "The Hours."

11. Favorite Fruits: Strawberries. Marionberries. Pears.

12. Favorite Vegetables: Broccoli, potatoes (they're a vegetable, right? Right.), and carrots.

  ¶ 10:23 AM

  "Who died and made you f*cking king of the zombies?"
-- Ed, "Shaun of the Dead"

Saw "Shaun of the Dead" last night -- billed as "a romantic comedy. With Zombies." It was hysterical and campy and cheeky and British and, yes, strangely romantic. Go see it.

Of course the trailers before the movie all previewed horror flicks, at least one of which looked totally stupid ("Seed of Chucky." Confidential note to Brad Dourif: You were Emmy-nominated for your roll on a hit HBO show! No longer must you supply a voice for this horrible doll!!).

One trailer looked intriguing -- for a movie called "White Noise" (not to be confused with Don Delillo's excellent novel of the same title). Apparently the plot is based on this theory of Electronic Voice Phenomena -- the notion that unexpected voices are sometimes found on recording media and these voices can be traced to dead people. This website has examples of actual recordings that people swear are voices of dead friends and relatives. Some of them are pretty freaky. I'm appropriately skeptical of course, but it's still scary.

Speaking of scary, Halloween is just a couple weeks away. Every year, I tell myself I will come up with a fabulous costume. Every year, I put it off to the last possible moment and end up dragging out some old wig and throwing on something from my closet that's barely passable as a costume. Maybe this year will be different? Any suggestions?
  ¶ 12:36 PM

  “I’m watching 'The Makeover Story' and they’re all married to Navy pilots and I think we should all marry Navy pilots. Because they’re hot, and they looked hot in their little suits and they all had nice houses and swimming pools and I’m like, huh, where are those guys? And they’re smart. And they’re fliers."
-- Shanda Kelley, who has the day off

I stole this Q&A from DeAnn's blog, but I don't feel bad about it because she stole it from someone else's blog. And I'm having one of those blah, creativeless days when I can't think of a single interesting thing to say so I really needed the framework. Must be the dark moon -- low energy. So, here we go:

1. Tell me something obvious about you.
I'm generally very confused. But hey, who isn't?

2. Tell me something about you that many don't know.
Aren't I an open book? Here's a fun fact that typically shocks people: I didn't get my license until I was 20 years old, and almost 21!

3. What is your biggest fear?
Boredom.

4. Do you normally go the safe route or take the short cut?
Shortcuts. I'm generally very impatient. I don't like waiting around (see answer to No. 3) and I don't like taking more time than I need to to get something done.

5. Name one thing you want that you can't buy with money.
"Love" would be the obvious answer, wouldn't it?

6. What is your most treasured possession?
Well it isn't technically in my possession yet, but I would have to say The Watermellon Rock. I'll post about it someday. As for something technically in my possession... I really love my mink stole that was once part of a coat belonging to my great grandmother. Also, generally speaking, I could never part with my books.

7. What is the one thing you hate most about yourself that you do often?
When I'm overanalytical, which results in making rash and unfounded judgements and taking out potentially explosive emotions on people close to me.

8. Name something you've done once that you can't wait to do again.
Go to Europe.

9. Are you the jealous type?
I'm pretty trusting unless you prove you can't be trusted. Then I'll probably be suspicious because, you know the saying: "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

10. What is the one person, place or thing you can't say no to?
I'm a sucker for doing anything for my siblings.

11. What is the nicest thing someone has ever done for you?
The single most nicest thing? Jeez. Are you kidding? Um... Well, I always think of the time back in high school when I tried to give blood and I passed out and had to lay in that lounge chair in the gym all day... And that night we had "paste-up" for our monthly edition of the newspaper and I felt all woozy and weak... And Zach, my boyfriend, brought me dinner, and best of all, a very early edition of the novel "Gone with the Wind," which he had found downtown at Powells. It was such a sweet and unprompted gesture -- not to mention probably the first time he'd bought a book in months. Or years. Thinking about that always makes me smile.

12. If you could do something crazy right now, what would it be?
Move. To Mexico. Hola hola.

13. When was the last time you cried?
Certainly within the last few days.

14. When was the last time you felt so good that nothing else mattered?
When I was in Oregon and sitting at the foot of Wahkeena Falls. I was at home, felt a deep sense of peace, of renewal, and happiness. I could have sat there forever. Alas, had to return to the real world.

15. Do you feel comfortable in public with no shirt on?
No.

16. Name something embarrassing you did while being drunk.
Fell over the bike rack at Darwins, inadvertently exposing myself to a really cute boy I had a crush on who was returning to Arizona the next day. And all my friends laughed at me (Holly!). Once they made sure I was OK, of course. It was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life, capped off when the waitress came running out and asked if I was OK, exclaiming, "No one has ever done that before!"
  ¶ 10:37 AM

  "Are you stalking me? Because that would be super."
-- Van Wilder, "Van Wilder"

First things first: My awesome brother Scott finished his second marathon recently, as good blog readers know, and he wrote about the experience in an article published in his newspaper, the Merced Sun-Star. It's a great read so check it out -- and note the photo credit on the accompanying picture.

I've never much enjoyed running, but I do love a good walk. So after work yesterday, Jessica and Shanda and I took Denali (Jessica's lovable dog) and walked west along the Delaney Park Strip, down through Bootleggers Cove, and back to Jessica's. I had some down time at home before John dropped by and we eventually popped in "Van Wilder," a mindless silly movie that ranks among my preferred mindless silly movies. These are the kind of flicks you pop in when you don't necessarily feel like paying attention or thinking about anything. Others that make the cut:

- "Beavis and Butthead Do America." Just thinking about the highway scene that has one of them leaping from the trunk of a moving car cracks me up. Memorable quote: "You must bow down to the almighty bunghole!" - Beavis.

- "Southpark: Bigger, Longer & Uncutt." It's irreverent, it's offensive, it's obnoxious, it's fabulous. Memorable quote: "And so, the draft will being tomorrow as more and more troops are needed to invade the Canadian border. The Canadian government pleads for a peaceful resolution, but naturally, we're not listening." - Radio broadcaster

- "Orgazmo." Another Trey Parker and Matt Stone flick, this one about a Mormon Bible salesman who inadvertently ends up a cult-fave action hero porn star. Memorable quote: "I'm not a superhero! I'm a Latter-Day Saint!" - Joe Young.

- "Galaxy Quest." The cast of a Star Trek-type TV show -- long defunct -- tires of endless appearance at dork-filled festivals. But the monotony is broken when their showboating "leader" Jason Nesmith (Tim Allen) accepts a request for aid from an ailing race of aliens. The meek and innocent Thermians believe these actors are the real deal and can help save them from the evil General Sarris. It makes for hysterical and pure comedy. Memorable quote: "Hey guys, I just wanted you to know that, the reactors won't take it; the ship is breaking apart and all that... Just FYI." - Fred Quan.

That's good for starters. Hope everyone is having a great day!
  ¶ 1:59 PM

  "I done something new for this fight! I done rassled with a alligator! That's right, I have rassled with a alligator. I done tussled with a whale! I done handcuffed lightning, throwed thunder in jail! That's bad. Only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick. I'm so mean, I make medicine sick!"
-- Muhammad Ali, "When We Were Kings"

The documentary "When We Were Kings" did not answer the most pressing question of all: Where does Muhammad Ali come up with all those fabulous rhymes?! But it is a tremendous movie and much deserving of its Oscar. The movie documents the build-up to the much anticipated "Rumble in the Jungle" between Ali and George Foreman (yes, the grill guy). Even non-boxing fans would appreciate it because it also serves as a pretty insightful commentary on culture, politics and tensions during the Vietnam era -- plus it's a fascinating peek into Zaire. Anyway, I finally watched it last night and so glad I did. I felt sorry for Foreman. Throughout the lead-in to the fight, he was so focused, so poised, so strong, while Ali bounced around him spouting lines and attitude, winning over Africa one strut at a time. See this movie, people!

Other news from the weekend:

The trip to Girdwood was awesome. I went down early with John and Brad (his brother). The drive was stunning. All the trees along the Turnagain Arm had warmed to a glorious gold and were filled up with sunlight. We checked into our cozy chalet and in no time had made it to the hot tub. Then we watched the presidential debates while John started dinner and we awaited the others' arrivals. Girdwood is a very funky hippy ski town filled with chalets, cabins and lodge-like log cabins. I saw one sign alerting "dog guardians" to clean up after their pets. Yes, folks, dog guardians. Not owners. Anyway, the others soon showed up -- Adam, Christy, Shawn, Tamara, Jake, Greg, Shanda and Jessica. Around 9 p.m., we walked the few blocks to the concert at the Alyeska Day Lodge and the concert lasted a few hours. All in all, a very fun night.

The next day, back in Anchorage (which always looks remarkably large after spending time in tiny Alaska towns), I had little time to rest up before hopping in Anne's van with her, the other Anne and Nicole. We headed to the party at Deb's in the Butte at the foot of Lazy Mountain, where some 20 women doned pjs and ate squash soup and cheesey toasts, enchiladas and chicken with capers and mushrooms, chocolate and cheese and assorted salads. Come time for the pajama costume contest, my ensemble (nude fishnets, velour leapard drawstring shorts, furry Shishmaref moccasins, a black cami with pink lace, a very obnoxious long robe, a white boa and a pink wig) won the "Fredericks of Fairbanks" category. I was quite pleased with myself. The remainder of the night was spent chatting, painting nails, soaking in the hot tub, standing around the bonfire, and of course, drinking wine... I slept in the van with the girls.

Back in town yesterday, I devoted several hours to cleaning and rearranging portions of my apartment. I've been in a downsizing mood lately and get irritated when I look around for things to get rid of and think I need everything. Why do we get so attached to stuff?

I just finished up the latest installment of "Desperate Housewives" (love it!) when John brought over the aforementioned documentary and I zoned out to Ali's admirable arrogance and ended the three-day weekend on a smooth mellow note with a glass of merlot, wrapped in a furry fleece blanket.

Other misc: Casey and Kirsten return from Europe today! I've had enviable fun reading their blog. Also, John's roommates David and Kara had their baby Oct. 7: a boy, named Silas David Gibbs. Congrats, guys!
  ¶ 4:17 PM

  "The country runs better with a good looking man in the White House. Look what happened with Nixon... No one wanted to fuck him, so he fucked everyone."
--Samantha, "Sex and the City"

Just by chance, TBS last night was running the "Sex and the City" episode from which I extracted the above quote. Seemed eerie timing, what with everything being about politics these days.

Tomorrow, I will escape that! I took the day off work and am headed south along the Seward Highway to Girdwood for the Ween concert at Alyeska. A bunch of us have rented a chalet (complete with hot tub!) just blocks from the mountain, and within walking distance (I think) of the show.

Saturday, I return to Anchorage. But not for long. I will jump into my friend's VW Van to head north, this time, to my friend Deb's at the foot of Lazy Mountain in Palmer. We're having a big all-women-of-all-ages slumber party in honor of a coworker's 60th birthday, complete with (more!) hot-tubbing and a bonfire. Should be a blast.

Hope everyone's weekends are just as fabulous!
  ¶ 3:00 PM

  "Someday, when you're a little older, you'll be introduced to something that is extremely seductive but fickle -- a fair-weather friend who seems benign but packs a whallop like a donkey kick, and that is the Long Island Ice Tea. The Long Island Ice Tea makes you do things you normally wouldn't do, like lifting your skirt in public or calling someone you normally wouldn't call at really weird times."
-- Lorelai, "Gilmore Girls"

Loved the new "Gilmore Girls" from last night. Was soooo good! Won't discuss details -- don't want to spoil anything. But everyone should watch this series. After watching it, John and Scott came over to use my TV/VCR to watch the Trinidad/Mayorga fight. I was able to catch the first few rounds but then dashed out to meet Jess and Shanda at Bernie's for food/drink. Alas, they had stopped serving food, but behind the bar was Jessica Leather (yes, that's her real name!), who gave me some of the French fries she'd set aside. After those, and a cosmo, I returned to John's where I was able to finish watching the fight, and I have to say, it was an awesome fight. Totally vigorous, lively -- and Mayorga is just insane so that right there guarantees an entertaining bout.

In other news, I'm admittedly obsessed with Mount St. Helens. The thing is, I hardly remember the first eruption. I was 4 years old, and my only recollection of it is that there was a nice pile of ash in the culdesac that was rather fun to play with -- until Mom yelled at me to back off. Anyway, I check the volcanocam constantly, and today stumbled across this cool story from the Portland Tribune.

And P.S. to Steffy -- I had typed out detailed soup instructions and then my blog republished funny. So I'll try and get to it tomorrow, promise!
  ¶ 2:12 PM

  "girls you've got to know
when it's time to turn the page
when you're only wet
because of the rain
you know it's time to change"
-- from "Northern Lad," by Tori Amos

All politics all day and my head is killing me. Too much coffee, perhaps? Or too much politics?

I successfully made my first batch of chicken soup from scratch. And it actually tasted good. Really good. When you throw a bunch of gnarly bones and raw vegetables (and a dash of allspice, right great-grandmother?) into a pot and cover them with water, it's hard to imagine the concoction will turn into something delicious. Then, like magic, and with time and patience, the house fills with that almost-medicinal rich smell of broth, and in the end, you've created something definitely worth eating, and maybe even worth bragging about.

I heard once (when? where? from who? don't remember...) that smells -- of all the senses -- have the power to evoke the strongest memories. And the smell of soup brings me a tremendous sense of comfort and thoughts of a warm, happy home and a mother who is one darned good cook. I miss my mommy's soup.
  ¶ 3:24 PM

  "I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it."
-- Carrie, "Sex and the City"

A big shout-out to brother Scott who successfully completed the Portland Marathon yesterday for the second time. He finished in three hours and 47 minutes -- 857th place out of 2,707 male runners. And a second shout-out to stepmom Karen who ran the five-miler in about an hour. Way to bring home the family pride, guys! P.S. Scott's birthday is tomorrow. Happy birthday, Baby Bro-Wo!!

This link courtesy of John. Think what you will. I could care less who people sleep with -- men, women, both, whatever. But when I heard Cynthia Nixon was seeing a woman, I guess I pictured someone more glamorous.

Speaking of relationships between the genders, here's a reason to leave Alaska: The state ranks No. 1 in the rate of women killed by men.

The thought of being murdered did in fact cross my mind over the weekend. See, there's this creepy sleazy guy always coming in and out of my building -- but doesn't live there. He would talk to me whenever we crossed paths, several times attempting to give me his number or ask me out. I rebuffed him politely. He really creeped me out. Anyway, I always joked he must be a drug dealer, given his frequent visits at odd hours. Well, turns out, he IS a drug dealer -- and a felon, and carries around lots of very dangerous illegal weapons. The police sent out a press release about him Friday after attempting to pull him over. He ran from the scene. I talked with a policeman that day, sharing what little information I had, and he told me firmly that this guy, Chris, is "very very dangerous" and that I should call the officer's cell immediately if I saw him. Scary! I realized I had left my back door unlocked, and fearing for my life, had Nicole come home with me so I could check for behind doors, beneath beds, etc. to make sure the creepy felon wasn't lurking in one of my dark corners. They still haven't caught him. And I'm keeping my doors locked.

Speaking of scary things, I finally watched the first two episodes of the new series "Lost," and was very impressed. It has more of a movie feel to it -- very well done. The acting's solid. Everyone seems to have a secret, or a heavy past. And it has a really thick sense of fear and suspense -- like what IS that big scary thing(s) in the woods?


  ¶ 12:40 PM

  "The ancients knew that we all share a common fate. They gathered around their hearths, their sacred fires, not just to remember those who had gone before but to comfort each other in the face of their own inevitable journey. Mister Einstein put it like this: 'Strange is our situation here upon Earth. However, there is one thing that we do know, that man is here for the sake of other men, above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy.' Good night, Cicely."
-- Chris Stevens, "Northern Exposure"

A friend of John's died this week. Lucy had four children and was young herself -- just 32 years old.

I'm generally pretty practical about the topic of death. It happens to all of us and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's far easier to make sense of, though, when it happens with someone who's old, or sick -- when the death is expected or at least not shocking.

When someone like Lucy dies -- someone who is very young, really on the brink of life -- it always makes me think about how tenuous it can all be, and makes me think hard about not wasting time, not "putting off til tomorrow what you can do today."

So what are you not doing that you should be doing?
  ¶ 4:56 PM