Mwahahahaa!

Time:

2:42 am.

Yahoo! users Top Rated Animated Films slideshow. Inane but interesting. I assume from its title that the scores were tallied based on some wierd idea of what users like or have rated. I assume it's all scientific, because, as everyone knows, the Intarweb is the most scientific place on Earth.

Anywho, I was reading some of the comments, and some people were like, WTF is this Japanese shite? They are, of course, referencing the steady block of Miyazaki films, including Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, and My Neighbor Totoro. Of course, I would have ranked them very high, but, once again, I was perplexed by how exactly they compiled the results. Like, how is Kung Fu Panda, as amusing as it is, better than all of these Mayazaki films and The Lion King? And Cars over The Incredibles? NEVAR!

So, now it is time for bed because I will be spending all of my Independence Day working the bar. Come buy a red, white, and blue margarita!

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Time:	1:39 am.
Mood:	artistic.
Music:	"Anything Goes" - Anything Goes.

Ah, Lee Pace. Graduated high school here in Houston, and now he's helming quirky comedies that enjoy critical accolades but dismal ratings. I sadly wave goodbye to Pushing Daises--and the delightful Kristen Chenowith--and I'm still sad about my favorite post-graduate anti-tourist cynic-fest that was Wonderfalls, which featured Lee as the main character's brother. He must have caught Bryan Fuller's eye during Wonderfalls, to land the role of Ned the piemaker. I want to hitch on Bryan Fuller's rocket, too! He needs to make another Dead Like Me. Starring myself, of course.

Anywho, Lee has come to mind because I watched Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day. Originally I was seduced into watching it by Netflix, which I believe recommended it based on my love of quirk, literature, and Frances McDormand. It's about a homely governess in the early 1940's England, who, after getting fired from yet another babysitting job, accidentally ends up becoming a "social secretary" for an American starlet, who is trying to balance three men as she attempts to become a star. There's of course comedy and romance and enough levity to give a few of the characters some depth.

I'm currently listening in to director Bharat Nalluri's commentary, which is high in praise for the actors--and who wouldn't praise McDormand or Amy Adams--and lots of technical bits about shooting in tight spaces and lots of stuff about set designing. Now that I'm watching it a second time, I'm seeing how many little bits of the movie are homages and references to the time period, from the big stage musicals to luce Boothe's The Women. Especially in the bathtub scene and every scene with Edith--Shirley Henderson, aka Moaning Myrtle--did I feel like I was watching The Women. The old version, of course, not the new one, though I am guilty of watching the new one, starring Jada Pinkett Smith, Annette Bening, Debra Messing, and Meg Ryan's lips.

In the featurette, someone makes a reference to the fact that the film is set very much in a man's world, even though we are following the actions of the two female leads. As you might already know, The Women is a notable film because not a single male appears in the movie. The entire premise of the film, though, hinges upon men: how to keep them, how to get them, or how to live without 'em. All of the drama in Miss Pettigrew revolves around how the women are balancing the men in order to keep themselves afloat. Though you actually see men in this film, I feel the feminist, Room of One's Own vibe there. But, considering that it's a comedy and in true Greek fashion ends with 'marriages' instead of funerals, it sorta of lacks true feminine empowerment. But hey, the book was written in 1938, so I'm not going to get all Second Wave.

That being said, the men are also somewhat trapped. While they are mobile and have money and means, they are terribly ensorcelled by the women and seemingly unable to escape their machinations for the mens' attentions. The movie also gyps them a bit in terms of emotional resonance. The female villain, Edith, when defeated, merely sighs, displaying all of her disappointment in that simple act. The men, on the other hand, feel compelled to have a brawl, even though they aren't really feeling it or playing by the correct rules.

I like how McDormand describes it as a buddy film. The director keeps passing the camera by clocks, to remind you that the events occur in one day, but McDormand and Adams work so naturally together you'd think that the characters had known each other much longer. I think I'm going to read the book because I hear it's super raunchy. Teehee. As raunchy as seeing Amy Adam's nearly naked body? Actually, that wasn't raunchy, it was Boticelli.

Speaking of shows without a man in it, does anyone remember that one episode of Excel Saga that parodied shoujo shows--particularly mahou shoujo? Ah, good times.

On another side note, Charlotte "Rabbit" Warren is played by Christina Cole, aka Cassie, the lead character from Hex. Yay British!

So, I enjoyed the movie all right. Frances McDormand does another accent, though of course I'm always going to love her Fargo accent the best. Amy Adams wears petticoats way too well and makes me want to wear one. I need to see Sunshine Cleaning so that I can see her in a movie where she isn't playing a guileless ingenue (or playing someone pretending to be one).

Speaking of, anyone looking forward to the new Amy Adams/Meryl Streep movie, Julie and Julia? Here's a clip; it comes out in August!

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Time:	1:54 am.
Mood:	geeky.

Tiger is dreaming. Restless and twitchy, he's kicked up one of the throw rugs. I'm going to have to do something with him tomorrow to help him work off the energy he's been holding in since Mom and David went on vacation.

The tides keep coming in and out, and I mark the weeks with little marks on a chalkboard. I look up from the computer and hours have passed without my knowing of it. I pay attention to the ticking of the kitchen clock, each tick reminding me that I just wasted another second of my life on a useless exercise.

Tiger just woke up and fiercely attacked his foreleg. David just gave him some flea medication, which I hope retires those little bastards ASAP. Tiger chews on himself a bit when David leaves, and it gets worse when he has an excuse to chew. His tail has a number of rat-like bald patches. Poor neurotic guy.

I've been needing to visit the grocery store, but I've been spending the majority of my off-time this week hanging out with uncle Bruce and Brad; not strange considering I haven't seen either in a year and they're only here for the week. But it does mean that I've had to pick up some fast food. Is it bad that the Jack-in-the-Box lady recognizes you? On the plus side, she remarked about how I hadn't been by in a while, due to my recent diligence in not eating fast food late at night. Oh, how convenience trumps diligence all too often.

I've been suffering from restless leg syndrome for the last three days, though the last two have actually been centered around my arms. Probably a sign I should get my tired ass to bed.

In news that is unsurprising but still shocking in its unexplained disappearance: I no longer have a supervisor clock-in. I cerebrally know it's because I'm too expensive, but I kind of want to corner my boss and make her tell me so to my face. Already I am picking apart her explanations, no doubt peppered with Corporate-Approved Management Language, and preparing my eyebrow for my "I'm not Stupid" glare.

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Time:	3:18 am.
Mood:	contemplative.
Music:	"Daylight" - Matt and Kim.

The One-Drop Rule. Not necessarily institutionalized, but still a routine part of our culture. It's the reason why Tiger Woods is Black. And Barack Obama is Black. And I am Asian.

Sometimes I feel incredibly at odds with how I look. Bad enough that I have issues with my femininity--I wore earrings to work this weekend and everyone noticed--but there are days when I feel like my face doesn't match with my inner self.

Okay, I am at peace with my own looks. I can't imagine looking any other way. I guess what's bothering me are the biases and pre-concieved notions that others have when they see me. My co-worker Ryan said it best when he explained to our very young co-worker Kara: "See, it's like Hugo is Gay Hugo and Vickie is Asian Vickie, but I'll never be White Ryan."

If you spoke to me on the phone, or looked over my resume, nothing about me would 'ping' Asian to you. At times, however, I feel like this identity looms over me, especially since I work in a sushi restaurant, and come in contact with lots of ignoramuses.

I am half White. Specifically, Wisconsinite. And Texas has been my home for 15 years. These places have shaped me much more than Korea, a place that, since I was four, I've only visited four times and cumulatively spent 8 months or so in. When I studied there in college, I was the ugly American, much more so than my more sensitive White friends. Actually, I was more Texan than anything, because much of the other Americans, especially Korean Americans, were Californians, which is an experience I don't comprehend.

I enjoy TLC's What Not to Wear, where people get clothing makeovers. Usually these people are stuck in the 80's or wear dowdy clothes or look like they robbed thrift stores. At the end of every episode, they have changed their look and now people will no longer look at them and judge them as they did before. But I can't change my face. I can look like a dowdy, studious Asian or a Banana Republic Asian.

Meh, the musings of a girl who turns off her radio in the car so she can think out loud.

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Subject:	Indolent Solemnity
Time:	1:24 am.
Mood:	apathetic.
Music:	"Just Dance" - Lady Gaga.

Lady Gaga is so stuck in my head, no plumber in the world has the tools to unclog my brain. Like a spinning vortex of catchiness, I'm humming "Poker Face", or thinking it, or walking to its beat, all day.

I'm in a funk. I can tell because having dance music stuck in my head was the highlight of my day. I think it's because my co-worker Carey told me I looked older than 24. Is it because I act like an old lady, or cuz I scowl and scold a lot? Nope, she replied. I just look older.

Being 27 herself, I couldn't write Carey off as just a young'un who doesn't know the world and just how old people can look. And it was of course a shocking statement since I have never been told I look older, always younger. I'm Asian, we all look younger! Until we hit 55, then we become wrinkled raisins overnight.

Now I'm convinced that my unhappiness with life is bleeding into my face. The dozens of boxes I have yet to pack for the life I have yet to fulfill are gathering dust in my closet. I wlak into my room and immediately hate being in it. My playful flirtations (some may call them "sexual harrassment") feel hollow. If I were to create a band, our name would be "Indolent Solemnity".

Ugh, I'm going to mire myself in overthinking again, aren't I?

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Time:

2:02 am.

Wow. I just realized how long it's been since I LJ'd when I went back 100 friends' posts and hadn't gotten to where I left off. Oops!

Life is the same. I work a lot, make a little money, and try not to blow it at the bar afterwards. I didn't drink or party at all while in LA, so it seems that the week I returned, I had to make up for it. My liver has had enough, so I'm keeping it real this week. Thus far it's been easy to return home and play some Final Fantasy X-2, except after work everyone wants to hang out. Which means going to the bar and trying not to overindulge on ridiculously cheap drinks. Water, please. Don't give me that look!

There was a fire tonight at Joe's, shutting down Cadillac as well. We got bombarded, and I'm moderately happy with the money I made. I was behind the bar, and I tried to hustle out to catch AJ at Pride Idol, but it was not to be. Instead I caught up with some Dutchman folks, learned some names.

I have the gnarliest tan line right now, from wearing a sports bra/camisole combo to the golf range. My skin was burned to a crisp! It still itches, and I've been rotating my friends for back scratching duty, so no one gets too tired.

I managed to drag my half-assed tanned ass to the gym, where I did some major ab work for the first time in a while. It hurts so good today. Except my pectorals got a good workout too, and somehow that made shaking martinis incredibly painful. I wonder if my bar guests were wondering why I kept grabbing myself around the chest area.

Well, I'm trying to be a good girl and go to bed earlier, thus waking up earlier so my daytime is not a waste. I'll probably blow that pattern by Saturday, when I won't get off work until after midnight. Well, tomorrow morning I'll be up early to replace to front oxygen sensor on my car. Might be fun.

Okay, so I wonder if I'm really susceptible to flights of fancy. It seems that my preferences for friends, attractions, guests, whatever, seem to change on a daily basis. It's like, 'Today I like you, but not you.' Then, like the weather, you wait 5 minutes and I'm completely different. I'm leaning towards insanity, rather than 'woman's prerogative'.

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Time:

12:47 am.

Today Smiley and I hit up Burbank to take the Warner Bros tour of their studio. Fun stuff, except I scheduled myself for the 11 am, which meant I had to leave the dorm room at the ass crack of 8 am. Thence commenced a 2 1/2 hour trip through the dregs of public transportation to arrive exactly on time.

I tried to get Ellen tickets but it was for standby only, and you had to start waiting for 1 in the afternoon for the 4 pm taping. So I skipped out and bought an Ellen shot glass instead.

Tonight, Jackie and Megan and I went to In-and-Out. Very cheesy, if a little salty. Good overall, and decently priced. Then we had Red Mango, and I forgot how their frozen yogurt actually tastes like yogurt! Good stuff, I put blackberries in it.

It's my last night in LA, so I'm making sure I've got everything packed up. Wish I could stay and do more, but alas.

Now I have to wake up at the ass crack of 5:30 am to catch the FlyAway shuttle back to LAX. I;m not looking forward to lugging my suitcase, laptop, and backpack down the darn UCLA hill. Ah well, much better than up that hill! I almost perished.

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Time:

1:30 am.

Yesterday we headed to the Getty Museum. Good stuff, but after a certain number of paintings and a certain number of room decorations, they start to blend together. The view, however, is spectacular and the gardens wonderful. The only bad part of the trip was the fact that a little cold front came in, bringing some fog.

Jackie and I afterwards spent 50 minutes waiting for a bus that was supposed to come every 20. *godzilla hands*

We then decided that we would eat some food, but weren't able to get out of the dorm until 9. By then my first choice was closed (I had a craving for Lebanese) so I decided we would make the trip out to KoreaTown and try one of the many I've been hearing about, specifically NakWon. So we took the 45 minute ride--after waiting 30 mins for the bus--and then I found myself at Vermont and Olympic again. Must say, looks even sketchier at night.

Anywho, from there commenced the best food I've had thus far. We didn't stray too much from old standards--I ordered Jackie the kalbi and I had sundubu--but they were both delicious and priced right.

Then came the fun. We waited for what felt like eons for the 204 bus to come get us, but after 25 minutes we decided we would throw the dice and walk through the ghetto back up to Wilshire. Long 5 blocks. Beat the bus there.

Then we waited for the 720 to take us home. We waited another 50 minutes! It was incredibly aggravating to wait for these late ass buses when there's no traffic and it's late and we're in the not-so-nice part of town. RAWR.

By the time we tramped home, we were exhausted. I had time for a shower and then I passed out in Megan's bed. Jackie's other roommate, Katie, has mono, so we tried to stay quiet, though she sleeps pretty well through anything.

Today we woke up late again, but headed out anyways to Venice Beach. We trolled along the canals, marvelling at the architecture and estimating the prices of the houses. Then we dipped our toes in the sand, and took a bus out to Little Tokyo. We walked around the little shopping area, had some mochi ice cream and Jackie bought some milk tea at the grocery store. We ate at a place called Suehiro or something like that but it's not something to write home about.

We then walked along all the federal buildings and asked some cops for directions to Union Station. More walking, and we finally got out of the cold and into the dark tunnels. Finally the buses and trains aligned so that Jackie and I wouldn't be waiting forever in the cold for our rides, though the 20 bus driver kicked us out several stops before the end of the road, making us walk an extra few blocks. Grrr.

Finally home, and preparing for my VIP Tour of the Warner Studios tomorrow morning. I'll say 'Hi' to Ellen for ya'll while I'm having brunch with her and Portia!

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Time:	2:38 am.
Mood:	hungry.

I have not watched any TV since I got here. Frankly, I don't miss it, as I'm keeping myself busy.

Yesterday I headed to the Korean Cultural Center, just to see what sort of stuff they had there. There was a mini-museum, and a library. I had a lot of fun with the moveable shelves that rolled back and forth, creating aisles where you needed them. I was just settling down to the most recent issue of KoreAm Journal when the lady informed me that they were closing early that day. I didn't get a chance to view the art on the second floor.

I took the 20 bus farther into downtown, hitting up KoreaTown. I made my way to Vermont and Olympic, to Beverly Tofu House, which I had read about online. I haven't had a good sundubu since I left Korea, and I was slavering at the chance to rekindle my love affair with spicy, boiling broth and silk tofu.

Beverly was good; it was quiet, with interesting decor and good panchan, and barley tea which I sucked down and squirreled away for the trip home. The sundubu came out boiling and the lady threw the egg in there. I should have pushed the egg down or stirred it in immediately, cuz it was still on the verges of raw, but it wasn't a big deal. The broth was a bit more sour than I anticipated, but all in all it was still good. I only ate half of it. *^_^*

I returned in time to catch the UCLA/Longbeach State regional softball game, and was much happy to be by a softball field again. Then Jackie and I went to eat some sushi at a place called Sushi Isshin. It was small and quaint, and the sushi wa pretty darn good.

Jackie looked at the wall behind me. "Isn't that... that one artist you told me about?"

Sure enough, I look around and there's an Audrey Kawasaki, beautifully lighted. My mouth gaped open. I had just told Jackie about my fave contemporary artist, and I had hoped to see her while in L.A., but she has a gallery showing in Tokyo right now. I spoke to the young woman at the front of the restaurant and she said that Audrey used to work there, and had made little paintings for them for birthdays and special occasions. I fangirled like crazy, and today was still grinning at the serendipity.

Well, it's late now, but tomorrow I must tell you about my adventures in KoreaTown, late at night. I'll preface it by saying that the Metro must hate me.

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Time:	10:01 pm.
Mood:	exhausted.

I'm in sunny California, and enjoying myself as much as I can enjoy myself when by myself.

Indeed.

I've rediscovered the joys of public transportation, and I spend excessive amounts of time ensuring that I am indeed getting on the right bus at the right corner, etc. I arrived today at the La Brea Tar Pits without getting lost, but about an hour and a half after I wanted to be there, thanks to my procrastination and waiting for my city chariot to arrive.

Tuesday was a rough day. Here was my timetable, starting Monday

Monday, 10 a.m.: Wake up with horrendous, post-Mother's Day hangover of doom.
3 p.m.: Finally shake off the hangover and begin preparing dinner for Mom.
5 p.m.: Get yelled at by Mom for Heidi being late.
6 p.m.: Dinner. Get to meet Heidi's new boyfriend. AWKWARD.
8 p.m.: Softball game.
10 p.m.: Obligatory karaoke time.
2 a.m.: Now it's Tuesday, and I realize that I haven't started packing and I'm supposed to be leaving the house in three hours.
5 a.m.: Drive to IAH.

Long story short, I was working on no sleep. Fortunately this means that I slept pretty hard on the plane--probably drooled some--so I wasn't too bored. Crick in the neck is still hanging around. When I finally got to Westwood, Jackie came down to get me and it was a horrendous walk uphill to her dorm, while lugging my bags. She walks way too fast.

I took a nice nap and then we headed out to Santa Monica, strolling along 3rd street and the pier. Well, *I* strolled while Jackie set out like a rabid hiker on uppers. We dipped our feet in the ocean and contemplated seafood. We arrived back in the dorms just in time to grab some of this pizza Jackie had been raving about, and I slept on the floor like a vagrant.

The next day I met up with Andy and we had lunch at Mr. Noodle, which had some decent green curry. Then we watched Star Trek, which I liked despite the alternate universe trope glaring at me from the backseat of my cynical brain.

Then Jackie, her roommate Megan, and I had Noodle Planet for dinner (which I'm told is like cheating on Mr. Noodle) and then hit the mall, where I bought flip flops. We stopped by an Anime store and I somehow limited myself to a Full Moon wo Sagashite artbook and a Gurren Lagann patch. I really really really wanted this Unison Vita figure:

I mean, look at how badass she is. Fortunately my Korean mother's voice kicked me in the head and I scuttled away.

This morning I attempted to wake up at a decent hour, and was mostly foiled due to lingering exhaustion. I did manage to take a bus down Wilshire and see the tar pits, which really do smell of freshly baked blacktop.

In my haste to pack, I had forgotten Plucky Duck (and I was very concerned as to my safety, since he is my good luck charm). At La Brea I picked up a substitute friend, Smiley, a small stuff sabertoothed tiger. Jackie wonders what will happen when I return to Houston and am reunited with Plucky. I think she has her eye on my bucktoothed, googly-eyed Smiley.

I skimmed across Farmers' Market, but the only thing I bought was some steamed bao from one of the many food stands they have. Yummy pork buns...

So I managed not to get lost. Tomorrow I will be making much the same trip, but just a little farther, into Koreatown for some sundubu--spicy, tofu soup--of which I had not had any good bowls of since I was last in Korea. Also I'll be hitting up the Korean Cultural Center, or something like that. Excitement. Now time to sleep like a log.

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Time:	4:07 am.
Mood:	crazy.
Music:	"My Tears Dry On Their Own" - Amy Winehouse.

Do tampons have expiration dates?

I'm wondering this as I'm cleaning my room, attempting to channel my frustration into some healthy--or at least useful--activity. All night I had been trying to make this wireless USB adapter connect my desktop to the wireless Internet in my house, only to be stonewalled by some random technicality of which I cannot find the source. I even called their tech support and after fruitlessly doing the same things I had already tried, the lady suggested I buy a different model. *godzilla hands*

I tried to use the Shop Vac Method of therapy on my bathroom rugs, but Tiger's hair is especially tenacious and unwilling to be moved. How did he get so much hair in here, especially since his only forays into the bathroom are to beeline into the tub during inclement weather? Ugh, the universe is out to get me.

I have a pretty hefty to-do list this week while David and Mom are in Vegas, and not one of these necessary tasks includes having a party at my house. Darnit, I am mortifyingly boring. I might step out of the box a little tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room, late at night. This is big because Mom and David wake up if I watch TV. It feels naughty and nice to be able to come home from work, shuffle over to the couch, turn on the TV and stick my hand down my pants, Al Bundy style. That would be the life.

I convinced one of my co-workers to do Habitat for Humanity with me, and Thursday was supposed to be our first day. Unfortunately, I'm on the rag, and I'm horrified at the thought that I would be on a heavy flow day and be forced to utilize the Port-o-Potty. NOT GONNA HAPPEN. So, postponed until next week.

Got some news from air traffic control: gonna be another 6 months. Now I gotta rethink my priorities yet again.

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Time:	3:17 am.
Mood:	determined.
Music:	"Georgia On My Mind" - Ray Charles.

For some reason, I've been bitten by the cleaning bug, and I'm going with it. My room is definitely benefitting. There was a thick layer of dust of everything, coupled with a few other items that caused our house vacuum to be useless. The spinning brush of the vacuum just threw the dust up into the air so much it resembled the sawdust spit up by a circular saw.

Thus, I busted out the big guns: the Shop Vac. I literally vacuumed the entire floor of my room by hand, lifting up all the dust and hair. I got into corners, lined the baseboards, and pushed aside the miles of cords to get at the insidious dust. I was the Shop Vac infomercial. While on my hands and knees for a while, I discovered four major culprits:

1.) Dead skin cells. My skin has this insidious habit of sloughing off its old, decrepit layers and regenerating new ones. I looked up this magical ability and unfortunately it seems all of humanity can do this, and this is not a cool mutant talent that will lead me to meeting Hugh Jackman. Bummer.

2.) Tiger. His hair is everywhere, especially in the front of the closet where he haunts me like a doggy-smelling ghost.

3.) Crumbs. Someone has been coming into my room and eating! Who dare!

4.) Long black hair. Someone with long dark hair has been coming into my room and shedding their hair everywhere! I can only hope I can one day solve this mystery and punish the crumb-leaving-dark-hair-shedding bandit.

Now I am pleasantly exhausted and will wash my face of lingering dead skin cells before they come off on their own and get on my nice clean floor.

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Time:	12:51 am.
Mood:	anxious.
Music:	"I Don't Believe You" - Pink.

Once again, more April showers. The sky opened up tonight, transforming the boardwalk into a network of ponds and waterfalls.

For some reason, I've been very antsy tonight; I would go so far as to say I'm plagued with anxiety. It seemed to have no cause; I can only hope that it's because I was expecting to be much busier at work tonight, and was let down. Whatever the reason, I was a bit snappish and aggravated, and when my coworkers wanted to go out tonight, I demurred. I didn't want to subject my strange anxiety to the effects of alcohol.

The drive home was adventurous, especially at one point where I drove through about 2-4 inches of water. I normally don't, since I've seen plenty of idiots stall in high water, but I watched cars go before me.

Now I'm going to play some FFX-2 until my strange blood pressure goes down. Maybe too much sodium or caffeine today...?

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Time:	11:29 am.
Mood:	dorky.
Music:	"The One" - Shakira.

I have now completed my second week of being a supervisor, and sadly it's continuing to be insipidly boring. I find myself become increasingly more evil, because I have nothing better to do than to terrorize my coworkers. I hoot with glee at the prospect of having to do a comp or a void, and, without the motivation of a cattle prod, I actually go to the guests' tables and inquire to their satisfaction with their experience and introduce myself. Jus' shootin' the shit, ya know?

The exciting part of my day was unplugging the giant stone water fountain, resetting the outlet, and plugging it back in. Yesterday I felt super proud of myself for climbing a ladder and changing the light bulbs above the front door, though in the process I got dust and dessicated insect corpses in my hair. I now know my purpose: wait around until someone needs something. Wait... that makes me a "go-fer"! Now it feels like a demotion.

Today I went for the 'cute librarian' or 'quirky but cool English tutor' look, complete with Converse sneakers. Well, I had some cute strappy heels but after two hours, my feet had had enough. Hostess Natalie rolled her eyes at me every time she saw my shoes. Curtis teased me for my 'Ellen' look, but Rameses lurved it.

I cleaned off my desk today. And by 'clean off' I mean to say that I wiped off the layer of dust that was taking root. The desk looks so much better now that you can tell it's black. I also installed the video editing program I bought way back in January, because I finally used my new HDD camcorder, and my old program didn't recognize the video files I imported. So now, take a look at what the recent rains did to my street!

The mighty River Orion!

Yes, I added the whistles because I cursed a bit and I wanted this video to be Grandparent safe.

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