Going under cover.

Did you ever have one of those days where you just don't want to play anymore?
I think I am at that point today.

It's only 2:45 p.m. and I would offer up my much-adored leopard print scarf that is ever so jauntily tied around my neck to the gods that would allow me to go home and crawl under the covers again.

I'm not saying that I would spend the rest of the day sleeping said day away, no, no, no!

I would like to go home and be under those covers with my curtains wide open letting in the deliciously brilliant sun and read. Just read allllll day, catch up with Dorothy Parker (which I am still trudging my way through) and feed my soul a little. Maybe even be so bold as to catch up my journal and write a few haiku about the sun.

I smell a necessary play day off, sooner than later!

Word nerd.

"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."
~~~~Mark Twain

For years, I have subscribed to an e-mail newsletter that sends quotes of the day.
OK - at one time, I subscribed to several such newsletters, but have weaned myself down to just two.

And I don't just stop there: If I am particularly moved by some witty, well-spoken chap or dame whose wise words pop up in my inbox every morn, I will do a completely nerdy thing.

"I care not what others think of what I do, but I care very much about what I think of what I do! That is character."
~~~~Teddy Roosevelt (Nikki note: He is my 3rd favorite president.)

I will write said quote in designated "Quote of the Day" spiral notebook, one of three that rests n the corner of my desk for such deserving words.

"But why think abut that when all the golden land's ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?"
~~~~Jack Kerouac

I do the same thing if I come across anything in the paper, online or in a magazine article I read. It's almost like an OCD thing - or another one of my OCD things I guess I should say.

I like having these inspiring quotes at my fingertips. I like the process of writing them with my blue PaperMate pen, feeling and hearing the words scratch the white lined paper. It's not unlike the feeling I get when I write in my journal. That tangible inspiration.

I like to think that maybe one day, maybe someday, someone will be moved by my own words, the way that I've been moved at any particular moment by someone else's.

"I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them."
~~~~Jane Austen

Book worm.

I'm always a little sad when I read the very last page of a new favorite book.

It feels like such a let down, so "Now what?!" especially when I've been so invested in the words - and world - of a damn good book.

I flat-out wept when I finished "The Historian." Elizabeth Kostova beautifully ended her amazing, suspenseful and sometimes frightening book with a humane look at Dracula. I sometimes flip through to page 676 (smelling the book first, of course, as I fan the pages out), read that final page, and still get goosebumps from the image I can so clearly see. Kostova writes:

"He looks not at all like a man in constant peril - a leader whose death could occur at any hour, who should be pondering every moment the question of his salvation. He looks instead, the abbot thinks, as if all the world is before him."

Stunning.
To write like that is a quest of mine every time I pick up a pen or set my fingers on a keyboard.
I want people to see the setting sun's light shining through the windows as Dracula pensively looks out over his domain. I want them to feel its warmth on their face.

"The Historian" was the first book in a very, very long time that I finished and immediately began rereading. The next book that I did that with came this week.

I received "Hammer of the Gods: The Led Zeppelin Saga" by Stephen Davis.



This delicious romp took me inside the world of my favorite band whose music I find so inspiring. They are so mythical and mystical, and I would give just about anything to have been able to roam the earth with them in their heyday.

Davis' style is fluid, and the tales he tells about the band's infamous lore runs the gamut from sex-laden escapades to Southern blues to black magic to the inevitable end.

Just like I knew the boat sank in "Titanic," I knew drummer John Bonham would die, and Led Zeppelin would be no more. But, again like "Titanic," I became invested in the band from a whole different plane.

Sure, I read the stories and even boast that I want to be the "mudshark girl" on my MySpace page, but as I read "Hammer of the Gods," Davis' writing tricked me into thinking that I wasn't reading about "the band that was," I was reading about a band that is.

I was there in the beginning, when Jimmy Page and Robert Plant sequestered themselves in Jimmy's house to get to know each other. I was on every American tour - more conquerings than tours, really. I was there when Jimmy met his 14-year-old concubine. I was there for every debauched step, every sip of booze and every cigarette inhale. Just like I walk in the foggy mystic and medieval world I picture when I hear the music, I was there with Led Zeppelin through every legendary step.

That's the beauty of a good writer - that's what makes a good writer - and that's the beauty of words.

"For such magic to succeed, it must tap the sources of magical energy,

and this can be dangerous."

William S. Burroughs "Rock Magic"

New Year, same resolutions.

What is it about New Year's Day that is so inspiring?

Is it the clean slate spread out before us?
Is it the fizzy champers, the midnight kiss, the bleet of a noisemaker?
Is it the joy - relief even - we get that we've been blessed to have another year at our disposal?

I don't know what it is, but I know that this day every single year, I make my list ... oh, you know you've got your old standards, just as I do:

- Lose weight.
- Exercise more.
- Save money (this year in particular, this one seems lots more important than the others, non?).

But this year, I'd also like to add:

- Cuss less. (A lot less. More like a lady, less like a sailor.)
- Take less of the good things in my life for granted.
- Write extra-curricularly more, like this blog. Freelance. Journal. Haiku. Just be inspired more to unleash my blue PaperMate pen outside of work.
- Be happier. (This has gotten easier in the last year. I've been able to let go of a lot of my anxiety about things I can't change, work, etc, etc. Quelle refreshing!)

2008 was a wonderful year for me. I'm looking forward to getting to know 2009 and whatever it will bring - and whoever I will be come this time next year.

Who would you like to be?

Ugh nog.

I finally had to break down and buy a half-gallon of egg nog last night.
I usually don't drink it because I'm not much for anything milk based, including milk, but I just could taste that creamy icky colored Christmas drink so much for the last few days that I had to put it in my cart at the store. A higher power than I deemed it so.

So, as I settled in to watch "The Family Stone" on free On Demand*, I mixed a splash** of bourbon and a few shakes of nutmeg with some nog in a rocks glass. Mmm.

Then I spent the rest of the night listening to my stomach make horrid gurgling sounds.
I vowed to dump the rest of the carton down the drain first thing this morning.

Instead, here I am feeding the craving again as I just slammed another glass - sans bourbon but with more nutmeg this time. It was delicious.
I daresay that it is better without alcohol added.
(Bet you'll never hear me say anything so sacrilegious to my liquor cabinet like that again!)

Now, do I have another glass, or just quit while I'm ahead and wait for the gurgling?
Decisions, decisions ...

*This movie is so highly NOT recommended by me. Awful, awful film. Thank God it was free.
**By "splash" I mean way too much bourbon.

Burning the candle.

Gosh, where did the time go?

When last I wrote, I hadn't started Christmas shopping and now, two weeks hence, I am still not done.
Things have been going at a lightening pace this past month or so, and I've been enjoying every second because for the first time in years, I am happy and thankful for so many things.
(Knock wood!)

Have been so busy writing at work that I've not had a moment to myself for my own writing, and while it felt good, I know this little break I have coming up is going to be so very nice for me to 1. give my keyboard a well-deserved break, and 2. get my blue Papermate pen off its lazy bum!

Can't believe that this time next week I will be in my traditional "Merry Merry" Christmas jammies at my parents, with visions of sugarplums and the first hour of "24 Hours of A Christmas Story" under my belt!

"I kissed a ..." Oh, shut the hell up already (and other random thoughts).

My mind is racing - in a good way - so here are some random thoughts I've got going on in this noggin of mine:

• I lit my favorite candle in the world tonight: Yankee Christmas Eve. It is delectable, and my apartment smells fantastic. I don't know why I am so drawn to it because my house never smelled like this as a child, but I find it so familiar and comforting. I'd burn it all year long, if I didn't burn the whole thing every holiday season.
• I am astounded by how much I loathe the following: 1. Spencer and Heidi, 2. Pete Wentz and 3. Katy Perry. Who the hell are these people and why why why do we care so much about what the hell they are doing!?

1. Spencer and Heidi: What exactly is there not to hate? His face, with that peach-fuzz 'stache and her always-agape mouth like she is just so surprised to see photogs capturing a moment they probably invited the photogs too? Please. Go. The. F. Away.
2. Pete Wentz: I loved "The Jungle Book" just as much as the next person, but Mowgli as a middle name? Seriously? Jerk. Yet I don't loathe Ashlee for being half responsible. And I just have to hate any man that can apply eyeliner better than me.
3. Katy Perry: Who decided to give this Betty Page-wannabe a record contact? Are we so hungry for girl-on-girl anything that we'll lap up an off-key song for the better part of a year? She is everywhere right now and reading about her in Rolling Stone every week is making me sick. She seems like such a dick.
4. Speaking of K.P., SNL did a wonderful skit about her, which included the line "I saw a boat and I liked it." The other day, the damn song got stuck in my head, but I mixed up the song and the skit and sang, "I kissed a goat and I liked it" to myself. It happened whilst I was brushing my teeth and I almost choked because I laughed so hard. Where do these things even come from??

• Having gotten all that off my chest, I must comment on how much I adore my mom's homemade iced tea that I bring home every Sunday mixed with Cabo Wabo tequila. It's like a little dash of summer right in my Stegmaier glass and cold apartment.
• Thanks in part to an addiction to the new Guns n' Roses CD, "Chinese Democracy," I've recently come off another to Sirius' Led Zeppelin Radio, and returned to my guilty pleasure: Hair Nation. God darn I love '80s hair metal! Long live devil horns, yowza!
• I have not started Christmas shopping yet, and it's making me nervous. I am so swollen with the holiday spirit (yes, I do realize how gross that sounds, but I can't stop saying it, here let me say it again: swollen with the holiday spirit. Ewww!). But as I was saying, I am just so excited about the entire holiday. I can't wait to wrap gifts (once I get them, clearly), write out cards and revel in my gorgeous lil' tree that looks exceptionally beautiful and bright this year.
• I think I am going to hang up this blog and move on to my journal, I feel the itch of putting a pen to paper, instead of clicking keys, sneaking up. Sometimes you just have to go back to basics, non?