I’m Still Here. Honest.

I’m quite behind in my blogging. Every day I think of something I need to blog, and… I just haven’t been doing it. To remedy the situation, I bring to you a long and patched-together entry about all the stuff I wanted to blog about. That I can remember.

Tubac. I went there last week. We go there just about every year. It’s a little village in southern Arizona that specializes in artists’ galleries and fab shops that specialize in Mexican handicrafts. If you don’t like that sort of thing, you won’t find much to do in Tubac. I got a present of a Talavera pottery pitcher, in the shape of a portly, googly-eyed frog. It’s loverly. We always eat at Shelby’s Bistro, which is adorable and has terrific food. I had a lovely chardonnay there, but I didn’t ask what the label was. Oops. Also, we inaugurated the Annual Bar Tour of Tubac at the Tubac Inn, where we hung out in the divey bar and drank margaritas. Mmm, margaritas…

School. The statistics class is finished, thank heavens. I got a B. I am equal parts annoyed and thrilled at the grade. I wish I could have gotten a better handle on the subject.

Books. I am reading… er… three books at the moment. Four, if you count the Zorro book that I started. The Time Traveler’s Wife is very good so far. It’s also very girly. But it has semi- science fiction elements, so that’s a help. Hondo by Louis L’Amour is the polar opposite. It positively drips with testosterone. The scenes between Hondo Lane and Mrs. Angie Lowe are pretty funny, especially when she realizes she has feelings for him. She’s quite angstful about why she’s attracted to him (since she’s a married woman, married to a guy who’s never around,) and that it must be that he makes her feel female. Whatever that means. I don’t understand, I just find it amusing. I feel like a female most every day, because I happen to be female. If she has lost her femality, more’s the pity for her, I suppose. Also, Lane feels pretty badly about leaving the little lady and her son out there alone in Apache territory, that she has done as best as she can with the ranch but she’s a woman, and therefore needs a man to take care of her. Hee hee. It makes my feminazi heart glad. I am also reading Heir to the Empire by Timothy Zahn, a Star Wars novel. It speaks to the geek in me, and is a quick read. It’s not too bad, really, and I’m more engaged in the story than I was for the past three Star Wars movies.

Please don’t ask me to explain my reasoning behind the books I choose. There is no logic here whatsoever.

I have a massive pile of books I haven’t dug into yet, but am planning to shortly: The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (girly,) Neverwhere (probably not girly,) Soul Music (a Discworld tome,) Lord John and the Private Matter (probably girly, because Gabaldon writes very girly books,) the new Jonathan Kellerman mystery whose name I have forgotten, A Wizard of Earthsea (that I started awhile ago and just never finished) and… probably a few more that have been scattered to the winds.

Dr. Who. We have gotten our hands on (and don’t ask how) the new Dr. Who episodes. SO COOL. The new Doctor, Christopher Eccleston, is fab. FAB!!

Weather. When I get in my car to go home at the end of the day, the seat belt holder burns my hip through my clothing. Yeah.

Movies. Saw Madagascar, mostly out of boredom of movies today. It was better than I had anticipated, but not great. It is full of the sort of humor that pervaded Shrek 2, which was mostly animated animals cracking pop culture jokes. I can only see so many of those sorts of films.

Wallace and Gromit. Saw the trailer! YAY!

Booze. I have been swilling quite a bit lately, mostly wine and margaritas. That’s why I was quite curious when we brought home a bottle of Kokopelli Winery’s Wine-A-Rita, a concoction made of wine and – you guessed it! – margarita. They advised in the store that we should pour it with lemonade, but it was kinda gross. Have it without, it’s much better, and less bitter. It’s also a cheery green color.

I have a bottle of Chaucer’s Mead at home that’s calling my name. Tonight just might be the night when I take a swig.

Socializing. We went out with our friends to the Mesa Southwest Museum and Romeo’s Euro Cafe. The museum is a hoot, especially if you like mammoths and dinosaurs. Euro Cafe has moved to a new location in Gilbert, much to everyone’s chagrin, but it appears to have mostly kept the same menu and glorious desserts. I had a good glass of chardonnay there, too, but I again forgot to ask what kind. Gah. If you are in Gilbert and desire a luxurious pasta dish and a decadent dessert, head over to the Euro Cafe.

We have a dinner party this weekend. And I volunteered to cook for it. What was I thinking?

Work. Sucks. But you knew that already. I haven’t heard a thing about a potential interview for this other job, and I am getting a little anxious about it. They are piling on new piddly responsibilities on me all the time now, with no mention of increased stature or salary. I am quite eager to move on.

That’s about it, I think. Whew.

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