Alien Spouse

Singing My Baby to Sleep.

The bedtime routine for Eva involves singing appropriately soothing songs for about twenty to thirty minutes - And "Twinkle Twinkle" is only a couple of minutes long, no matter how slowly you sing it, so you either have to sing it on repeat, or come up with something else.

I remembered a fair number of other lullabies, but not a huge repertoire, so then I moved onto a selection of songs from "The Sound of Music" - This is odd because it's not one of my favourite musicals and never has been, and yet I know the whole "Favourite Things".  Doc C has never seen the film (or stage version), so he thinks my rendition of "Edelweis" is lovely, and it seems to have a suitably narcotic effect on the kidr.

Now I've gone a little more classic jazz musical by adding a few Cole Porter standards ("You Do Something to Me", "Miss Otis Regrets", "Don't Fence Me In" are the most frequent) along with "One for my Baby (and One More for the Road)", which is perhaps not the most traditional of nursery rhymes but it does the job.

This evening out of nowhere "Diamonds are Forever" made an appearance.  It's come to Bond themes now?  Oh dear.

Beer City Video.

Apart from moving house I was also very pleased to see the launch of a video that I've been working on for a couple of months now.

 

I am the project manager for production company that made this - which in this case meant I did everything from comissioning custom etched beer glasses; including child-care of an adorable little girl whilst her dad climbed into a beer vat; to sewing a teeny tiny kilt for a beer bottle.

It was a very unusual project I think, and I sort of doubt that anything is going to touch this for the having-fun-at-work factor - I mean really I got paid to hang out in bars and discuss jokes!  How much better could it get?

Sleeping and Waking.

As I've mentioned before, even though Eva is sleeping like a log at night (which, again, I am thrilled by and hope that I'm not jinxing), I am still woken up very easily by any noise in our apartment.  On Saturday night we went to bed as usual, and I was jolted awake by really loud music at quarter to four in the morning.  The music was coming from our living room.  Which was odd. Doc C was sound asleep and so was Eva, and I didn't want them to be woken up, so I got up to see what the hell was going on.

The stereo was blaring a Michael Jackson concert.  The cats were awake and were just kind of nervously milling around the room, so I thought that one of them must have sat on the remote and turned on the stereo.  I wanted to turn off the music, obviously, but I couldn't see the remote so I just pulled the power cable out and went back to bed.  When I got up the next day I plugged it back in, and found the remote; it was right in front of the stereo but there was a lot of other bits and bobs around it which made it seem very unlikely that the cats could have touched it.

So I have no idea what that was about, and it hasn't happened again.  Weird.

This week is pleasantly truncated by Thanksgiving, not that it makes any difference to my schedule really but it is lovely to have Doc C at home for a nice long weekend.  So there will be lots of sleep most likely.

To kick off the week, on Monday night we took an impromptu over-night trip to our friends Randy and Laura's house, which is where has been Doc C staying during the week this semester.  The reason we chose that evening for our first overnight experiment with Eva was because Randy and Laura would be away at a conference, so if, Eva's usually excellent sleep pattern was disrupted by the change of location, then the only people she would keep awake would be us.  As it happened she slept just as well in their house as she does in ours, so we will be able to visit them when they are actually at home!  Yay!  (Although their poor cats won't be happy about that, they were really not comfortable with there being a baby in the house and hid from her.)

Eurovision Anticipation.

Hello Friday! I am SO pleased to see you!

And it's not just because tomorrow is the Eurovision, but I will admit that does have a little something to do with it.

Actually maybe quite a lot, because Doc C and I have plans to curl up in front of the computer and revel in a glorious celebration of Euro Pop.  I actually rescheduled a haircut specifically to make sure that we didn't miss a single moment of the wonder.

Bring it On!  Squee!

Cake and Asheville Therapy.

Here is a nice slice of cake from a hippy cafe that we went to in Asheville. (Well, I say it was a hippy cafe, all of the lovely smiley girls behind the counter had dreadlocks and/or tattoos of trees, but then it had a very clear "brand identity" and logo, plus really plush bathrooms so it was distinctly upmarket hippy.)

 

This was a chocolate almond cake made with beet sugar, which is why it looks slightly pink. This adds fuel to my theory that Red Velvet Cake really does not need to be made with three bottles of cochineal in it, but that the same effect could be achieved in a much less artificial manner. It was quite dense, not too sweet and altogether a nice bit of cake. 

 

This was the introductory snack to my Asheville day trip therapy which also included:

• A two-hour drive there, listening to Kylie all the way (I was DJing, obviously, and in dire need of some handbag pop)
• A haircut from Naomi
• Browsing second-hand books
• Delicious lunch (I had really good fish-and-chips, Doc C had shrimp stuffed salmon that he was just ecstatic about)
• Shopping for maternity clothes (a striped grey dress, a skirt, a blouse and two t-shirts) and anti-stretchmark body lotion
• Unexpected bonus purchases of make-up and a picture book about London.
• A two-hour drive home, listening to Ok Go (I was DJing again, but being kinder to the Doc)

My lobbying for us to move to Asheville has been moved up a notch.

Up-Beat with a Hint of Mint.

You know what really cheers a girl up on a Monday when there is fricking rioting going on just round the corner from her old house? An 80's music internet radio station and the delivery of her internet purchases.  I think it's the combination of heavy synth and a free lipgloss that is really making all the difference.

It's good to be distracted by something, because otherwise I'd be hitting renew every 30 seconds on Facebook to check my friends in London are all ok. I don't like this one little bit.

All That's Missing is the Sea.

This morning I was getting dressed and hadn't yet put on my jeans, so, when Doc C walked into the room, I was wearing white socks; hot-pink, white and black argyle boy shorts; a hot-pink camisole and a turquoise t-shirt. He looked at me for a moment, nodded and said "Nice! You look like you're on the set of a Wham video."

The very fact that my Fugazi loving husband could make that reference was hilarious in itself, and it was a point well made so I changed the turquoise t-shirt for a black one. The colour scheme for this morning wasn't an entirely random desire for over saturated colours, it was in fact because I finished my argyle scarf yesterday and I wanted to wear it today. It's hot-pink and turquoise, which probably looks better against the black t-shirt anyway.

However, this does mean that I've had "Club Tropicana" stuck in my head all day, because what other Wham video has Pepsi and Shirley wandering around the place in their bikini bottoms and cropped t-shirts?

Twelve of the Fifty.

Moth said she hadn't heard of any of the songs I mentioned yesterday, which will not do at all, so here is a sample 12 of them.  8tracks didn't have all 50 of them, so I had to pick and choose.

Delete!

Following on from yesterday's post about my iPod's repeatedly ignoring 825 songs, I am now listening to them all, and occasionally I will award a rating of one star.

Usually getting a star would be a good thing, but in this instance it's my short-hand for delete.  Why bother with the star?  Why not delete straight away?  Well, this way the songs get an appeal on their sentence, I intend to listen to them again and see if I still think they are bilge or if there is a hidden gem in there actually.  I don't hold out a lot of hope for any of them, but I feel this is much fairer than a sudden death after a single outing.

I have noticed though that the pod must be lying about the play count on some of these songs, I'll accept I haven't heard any Varla-Jean Merman in the mix, I would remember that, but I know for a fact MC Solaar's "Noveau Western" has been played in the past few weeks and there is no way "Take On Me" has never been played.  Come on Pod!  Pull the other one, it's got bells on.

Gym Tuesday

Tuesdays and Thursdays are currently gym days for me, because Doc C was taking a bosu abs and back class on those mornings.  After we move there has been some discussion of going back to our Monday-Wednesday-Friday routine, because I think the Mono is pretty much bested (famous last words) and I have put a few pounds back on that need to be removed.  Anyway, whilst we are going back to the gym on a regular basis I'm still not quite back into my preparing routine; last night I made my breakfast (yogurt, oats and blueberries) in a travel container, filled up three different water bottles (one for Doc), packed my clothes for the office and laid my gym clothes out ready to put on as soon as I crawled out of bed.

However, I forgot to create a specific gym playlist.  My pod had free reign with the music and just kept choosing slightly less upbeat songs. These would be fine for for the cool down at the end of my cardio session, but not for getting me actually running. This effected my work out more than I would have thought, so today I have built two playlists for my next two gym sessions.

Then I noticed all those songs that my pod just ignores, poor things!  I have therefore created a new playlist entitled "Never Been Played" which contains a staggering 825 songs.  That's two days worth of material that my iPod has repeatedly turned it's nose up at!  What is the logarithm algorithm (thanks Moth!) that the iPod uses?  I mean there are some songs it really seems to "like" more than others, is that even possible or is it just where the songs fall in the archive?  So is it artificial intelligence or mathematical?  Actually I prefer to think my pod has developed it's own taste, but does it have to be so pig-headed about it?

Twenty Days!

 These are the tiles at the bottom of the steps leading up to the new house.

The OK Go USB Rocks!

The USB I ordered arrived today.  It's got a recording of the OK Go concert that Doc C and I went to a couple of weeks ago in Charlotte, as well as the new album (which I already had) and three of their videos.  As you can see from the photos, it's bamboo with OK Go printed on one side and domino dots on the other.

Doc picked it up from the post office and brought it to my office this afternoon, and naturally I plugged it straight in and rocked out!  Whilst taking care of some important paperwork!

I also got a t-shirt (grey with a yellow print) and a tank top (brown with pink print) with the flock logo artwork that OK Go used when they were promoting "Oh No".

It's already uploaded to my iPod.

Another Suitcase (well, cardboard box) in Another Hall (lobby).

Last days at a job are, for me at least, extremely hectic.  

Today I tried to complete a long task list, and with twenty minutes to go, I still had to balance the departmental credit cards when the accounting system wouldn't let me log in.  So I couldn't do that, but everything else I did finish which I'm pleased about.

So, as the clock tower struck five, I handed in my office keys and went to have a couple of martinis with friends.  One of the local bars does "Dry London Fogs", which I initially tried just because of the name I'll admit, but which I find that I really do like, it's a shaken vodka martini with 2 blue-cheese-stuffed olives.  Delicious.  And pleasantly intoxicating.

Then we came home and watched Lady Gaga videos on YouTube.

Happy Smiley Face.

This is the hand stamp I got from the show last night, I took the picture as soon as we got back to the hotel room so the blurriness is from all the party rockin'!

I've avoided scrubbing it off, but it's still fading from just normal hand washing.  sigh.

Oh!  You know what I forgot to mention in the concert post?  When we were watching the second support band, Earl Greyhound (They had some great t-shirts), I was looking around at the audience and across the bar I thought I saw someone I recognised.  It took me a moment to realise that, oh yeah, that would be Dan the drummer with Ok Go,  Well that makes sense I s'pose.  Dan got a pint, wandered over towhere we were to watch the band for a bit before going to get ready for his own band's performance.  An excellent, but hardly unexpected celeb spot!

Jen sent this from her phone

have I mentioned my phones camera is pitiful before? Fortunately as a phone it's pretty good, so I forgive it. This photo is of the sign outside the Visulite Theatre, the bottom line says (although you can't actually see it) "Wednesday OK GO" Squee! Jen x

Chucks and Tings.

 

Today we went out for breakfast, and then did a bit of shopping.  Doc C wanted to get plant pots and a pair of Converse; and I wanted either the new Goldfrapp CD, Head First; or The Ting Tings CD, We Started Nothing.

The Chucks were relatively easy to find, and Doc bought a size 8.  These are a very near match to the Sailor Jerry high tops that the Doc bought in Provence Town last summer.  You may remember that those were a mis-matched pair, one a size 7 and the other a size 9, so they looked odd together.  Splitting the plain high tops with the Sailor Jerry's has created two new pairs.  True these are still mismatched sizes, but it's only by a single size now and so it's not as noticeable.

So now we both have a pair!

I didn't manage to find Goldfrapp; luckily the University Bookshop had the Ting Tings.  This is a very good thing.  I've had the chorus to "That's Not My Name" stuck in my head for weeks now, but not knowing all the lyrics led me to make up my own to fit different situations; for example the song would end up being about Edith and would employ all of her nicknames.  This has been highly amusing for me, because I do enjoy singing nonsense songs to myself.  Poor Doc C though.  He is very susceptible to Ear Worms, and the worst are when I've been singing something that he doesn't know, because then he'll extrapolate a bass line based on my interpretation.  And that's what he'll have on an internal loop for weeks.  Can you imagine having "They call me Floofy, They call me Don't Eat That.  They call me Madam Pants, They call me Puke-y Cat. That's Not My Name!  That's Not My Name!" just repeating itself all day in your head?  I would imagine that could be quite annoying. 

Plus It's A Damn Good Band Name,

I took this photo on our trip to Asheville, so it's a few weeks old now.

The main reason I took the picture was because I really liked the flyer for Bunny Venom; what I didn't notice at the time was how well the flyer poster had positioned it, so that the Bunny Venom poster was framed by the yellow and black sunburst of the flyer behind it.

Brilliant!  That is urban scrapbooking at its best.

Shiny Things Nice.

This week at work continues to be not much fun, I'm not actually involved in the main horror event, but I'm getting hit with the odd bit of shrapnel.  sigh. 

Fortunately I've discovered a full proof method for cheering myself up no end; listening to the cheesiest Euro-pop available (How cheesy?  Gina G, Whigfield AND Aqua were involved.  And, yes, one of those is not technically a European, but Gina did represent the UK for Eurovision so I think we can give her honorary citizenship for the purposes of music categorisation) and browsing vintage jewelery on Etsy.

This evening I snapped up a gorgeous sweater guard, which has to be the worst name for a piece of zuz ever.  Essentially a "Sweater Guard" was an accessory made popular in the fifties which is both practical and pretty. It's two matching brooches with a short chain or string of beads between them which you wear clipped on either side of a cardigan to help secure it.  The one I happened to find today is two diamante clips with a strand of pearls; with the added fabulous bonus that the clips happen to be an exact match for a set of three vintage brooches I already own.

I am already building outfits around my latest find, so I hope the seller is able to get to the post office first thing in the morning.  I need glamour, damn it.

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.

I have a song stuck in my head, and it's been there for two days now. 

This isn't in itself unusual, but this particular song is not the usual ear-worm which is generally a snippet of a pop song on a loop.  Nope, this is a short song that I learnt at primary school, and I know it well enough to have a substantial chunk going round and round and round in my head.

Sometimes it's quite nice to know a song that well, strangely for an atheist the songs that tend to stick in my head are the hymns we sang in school assemblies.  I went to an all girl school, so naturally our school hymn was "When a Knight Won His Spurs", how bizarre is that?  Lots of riding through the land with a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand to kill dragons, just what every tween girl is preparing for.  Still it's a pretty good song, with a fun tune and it's not too religious for me to enjoy singing it occasionally still.

But that isn't what's stuck in my head. 

No, right now I'd love to have some giant-killing action in my head, but what I've got is the first verse and chorus of "My Grandfather's Clock".  Have had now for what feels like "...Ninety years without stumbling (tick-tock, tick-tock)..." 

Doc had never heard of it, so I sang it through for him, and he was bemused that it was something that gets taught to very small children in England.  Essentially, for those of you who don't know it, the song is about a clock which is both a grandfather clock and is owned by the grandfather of the title.  The song details where the clock stands (on the floor, because it's too tall for the shelf), the height of the clock (taller by half than the grandfather himself), it's weight (exactly the same as the grandfather) and when it was bought (The very morning that the grandfather himself was born.  This always struck me as an odd time to be shopping for a clock.)

The clock runs for ninety years in the ownership of one man "...his life seconds numbering (tick-tock, tick-tock)..." until it stops "...short, never to go again, when the old man died.".  It's a cheery little number, you've got to love Victorian song-writing haven't you? 

Anyway, I'm going to try and find something to knock that out of my head before I go totally mad.

Come On Ok Go!

Ok Go's third album was released today and my lovely Mum pre-ordered it from Amazon for me, so it is already on it's way.  I am very excited, but also apprehensive.  I have a theory that I call "the tricky third album", which as the name suggests, speculates that it is the third release by a band that is the turning point in a band's fortunes.

The first album tends to have all the songs that the band worked on and honed in live performances before getting signed.  The second album usually follows from the first in quick succession, and would have the material they worked on whilst promoting the first album; it is therefore likely to have strong thematic similarities with the first album, and so if you like the first album then you can be fairly confident of liking the second.  The third album is usually when a band will choose to make changes to their songwriting style, and this can be a gamble.  So I'm on tenterhooks right now, because I adore both of Ok Go's previous CDs, but what if in the four and half years since they released their last album they've become obsessed with bagpipes?  Or kazzoos?  Or choirs of squirrels?

Actually, the last one would be quite fun; let's keep our fiongers crossed for that, if anything.

Wall of Sound.

By the way when we saw Doc's family for New Year's Day one of his brothers gave us a Graduation/Wedding/Birthday/Christmas present that he bought us a year ago and not had the chance to give us. It was a Bose Wave music system, which is a tiny little stereo that Doc has been drooling over for years.

There is really nothing you can give a former sound engineer that will make him happier than really good speakers, that he can then wire up to the TV and every other electronic thing in the house.  The theme tune for "NCIS" rocks even more when you can properly appreciate the bass line, there may have been some dancing.

Location: Lounge. Status: Lounging.

Mono is tedious, but stressing out and pushing myself is not helping; so I am taking the excellent advice of my friend Hillary, and I am having a proper duvet day today for the good of my health.    I have actually got out of bed, and put some clothes on; but they are really comfy warm clothes and I haven't put any styling product in my hair!  Crazy!

The main plan for today is to sleep, but I'm also going to read, knit and play music for Edith to go into kitty ecstatics over.  She particularly loves pop, dance and jazz, preferably with a female vocalist.

If I feel like it later I might even move from the comfy chair to the sofa, but I'm not making any firm plans just yet. 

Seriously, I WILL Faint.

Ok, so my Doctor doesn't think this is Swine Flu or anything H1N1 adjacent, which I am very pleased to hear.  She thinks it might be Mono, which I think is what we refer to as Glandular Fever in the UK.  I know I was tested for that as a teenager, during my summer of mysterious falling asleep bloody everywhere, but I don't think I actually had it.  Do you remember Mum?

Anyway, I was sent for blood tests which are never my favourite thing.  It's a pity, because I have lovely veins and nurses never have a problem actually getting the blood, it's just I get a touch of the vapours.  I hate it, because being my Mother's daughter, I do not like to make a fuss and fainting seems so attention seeking.  I always warn whoever is taking blood that I don't react well, but I tend to underplay it because it's not like I totally freak out at the sight of needles or anything. This time the nurse asked if I'd like Doc C to come with me, and I said yes. The nurse sat me down in a funny little sofa thingy, with arms that folded down in front of me.  There was a very faded sticker of a puppy on the left arm, and I took a couple of pictures of that mainly because I was trying to stay upbeat by not thinking about the whole blood thing.

The nurse very quickly found a good vein, and complimented me on how nice my veins are, so she soon had the needle in and was busily filling up the various vials.  I didn't watch and was talking to Doc C who was literally holding my hand through the whole thing. When she had finished, she took the tourniquet off my arm, and walked my blood around the corner to the lab; just as "Shout" by Tears for Fears started playing on the radio. 

At this point I thought that I turned to Doc, and said I feel a bit faint, and just moved into a chair with a slanted back with a bit of help from Doc.  However, according to Doc I looked him straight in the eye said "Tears for Fears... My head feels funny..." and then my pupils dilated and I slumped over sideways.

Poor Doc C was, and I quote, "totally freaked out" and had to shout for the nurse, who came racing back with a paramedic and smelling salts.  Actual smelling salts!  I had no idea those were a real thing that were still used!  They tried to wake me up, and then all three of them moved me to the chair I woke up in.  I had to sit there for a while because my blood pressure was really low (I am, indeed, my Mother's daughter!) and they didn't want me to leave until it got a bit higher.  Well, that and my lips had turned blue, which is never a good look.  After about ten minutes the nurses decided I was recovered enough to let me go, so they sent Doc to pull the car round and walked me to the door.  They told me to go straight home, to rest and drink plenty of liquids.

The really weird part was that I had no idea I had actually passed out.  I thought I'd just got a bit light headed, but it wasn't until Doc told me the whole story in the car that I found out I'd actually lost consciousness.  Weird!

Sugababes 4.0

We really need to discuss the Sugababes, because I'm just not sure they can be called the Sugababes now that Keisha has "left" after 11 years.  This means the band now has an entirely different line up to the original group.

I'm sure you know how this happened, but for the sake of clarity, let's look at it step-by-step (and the BBC have it in pictures too.  Yay!).

1. Keisha, Mutya and Siobhan (3 years)
2. Keisha, Mutya and Heidi (4 Years)
3. Keisha, Heidi and Amelle (4 years)
4. Heidi, Amelle and Jade (Present Day)

Now, to be fair, the most successful combination was the second (Keisha, Mutya and Heidi), and I suppose it could also be argued that after 8 years that Heidi has actually been a Sugababe for longer than original member Mutya, who you can see sang with the group for 7 years. 

However did Heidi ever learn to speak Keisha and Mutya's secret Sugababe language?  Is that something the new girls have received training in at all?  It is intrinsic to the very fabric of the Sugababes that they speak a secret language, damn it!  Assuming that there will be some sort of special secret language coaching for Jade (For the sake of argument lets say that Heidi is up to speed by now and that Amelle has got at least some of the vocab and grammar down by now), I still think there needs to be some sort of concession to this totally new era of Sugababes. 

My suggestion would be that they put the "R" back in "Sugar", and I'm not just suggesting that because it has been bugging me for a while.  Nope.  Not at all.

Chris Williams' Flyers and Posters

The most interesting thing I've seen this weekend was a exhibition of flyers and posters designed by Chris Williams. The only problem was that no photos were allowed in the gallery so I couldn't take any pictures. Hmmm...  Hello internet...

Yay! His press has a website and a

Flickr account! 

Ooh, and an Etsy Shop...

   

Decemberists
Originally uploaded by plasticflame

The Cat Piano

I found an animation on-line today, it's a film noir set in a city of cat musicians and it's amazingly well done.  I particularly love the narration by Nick Cave, and that certainly helps it maintain a creepy tension.

The Cat Piano from PRA on Vimeo.

Nobody Likes Me Everybody Hates Me, Think I'll Go and Date Avatars.

Scene: This morning on the way to the gym.

Jen: sigh. I have "Nobody Likes Me, Everybody Hates Me, Think I'll Go and Eat Worms" stuck in my head.

Doc: Well I've got "Do You Want to Date My Avatar?" stuck in my head for the 19th day in a row.

Jen: (Heartless laughter, as she was the one who introduced Doc to the song) You are welcome!

And for those of you who don't yet have "...Avatar?" stuck in their heads, here's the video on YouTube.

Come. Join us in repetitively humming the chorus for the next month and a half.

I Survived Tonsillitis. Again.

Tonsillitis (American Translation: Strep Throat) is my Achille's heel and I suppose I've got quite blase about it now.  It's horrible knowing I'll be croaky and exhausted for about three days, but if I get plenty of sleep, drink lots of warm drinks and watch really formulaic detective shows, I'll feel better quickly.

Right on schedule I'm pretty much over my tonsillitis from last week, but one of the problems with having a boss with a medical degree is once I'm back in the office she can explain to me exactly what the problem was and why that can sometimes be really dangerous.  Now the BBC News website have piled on the historical paranoia with recent research which speculates that Mozart died of complications from a sore throat.  I mean, really!  That timing is uncanny!  I still have a slight sore throat and the usual post-illness ennui, so this is not what I need to be reading. 

Mind you I also just started "The Virgin Suicides" and we watched "The Wrestler" at the weekend, so right now what I really need is for cartoon kittens to be streamed into my cerebral cortex, preferably to the soundtrack of a new Ok Go album featuring guest appearances by Kylie Minogue, Tim Curry and Dusty Springfield.

That would be really rocking now I think of it.

John Hughes.

I put together a playlist on 8tracks from sound tracks to some of his classic eighties teen movies.

And yes that is a picture of Anthony Michael Hall with a pen up his nose.  I think John Hughes would have liked that actually.

McGee, Fix It!

I enjoy watching the "NCIS" triple bills after work, because I like the internal dynamics of the investigative team and anything with Illya Kuryakin has to be worth watching.  The only problem is that USA, that's the network it's on, likes to keep their audience on their toes by screening things out of sequence.  Characters die, and in the very next episode they are trading quips with their colleagues again. Doc and I have got reasonably good at spotting subtle indicators to help us roughly position episodes into the overall story arc of the show, which, considering we've never seen them in a consecutive order, is quite a challenge.

One of my favourite characters is Abby, and I read an interesting interview with Pauley Perrette who plays her, which had this particularly interesting nugget about the character's evolution:

(Oh, before you read this, it helps to know that the creator of the show is Donald P. Bellisario; who also created one or two other things you may have heard of like "Magnum P.I.", Battlestar Galactica", "Airwolf" and "Quantum Leap.  I know.)

Though many describe Abby as “gothic,” Perrette strongly disagrees with this perception.  In fact, her character has the enthusiasm of a cheerleader, though she appears like the opposite of one.

“[NCIS creator] Don Bellisario told me that when he created Magnum, P.I. he wanted to introduce a Vietnam vet who defied the negative stereotype.  So with Abby, he wanted to take an alternative-style person with tattoos and make her someone who is happy, totally put together and successful.  All the script said about her was: black hair, caffeinated and smart… She's completely unaware that anybody thinks she looks weird.  She thinks she looks pretty and never calls herself anything other than happy.  And I fight for that,” she explained.

My heart is oddly warmed by that, it's sweet that Bellisario is trying to show a perkier side to the Goth lifestyle (Much like "Goths in Hot Weather"), and it adds a dimension to the show that I particularly appreciate.

Duck Earphones: I Will Not Give In!

This morning I talked Doc into getting up half an hour earlier, so that we could get to the gym slightly earlier, allowing me to stretch properly, and cool down on the elliptical rather than just counting the walk back to my office.  I'm hoping that we'll be able to get there even earlier, so that I can add in some other exercises too, but if not the elliptical is still helping me get to where I want to be.

I've mentioned before that listening to my own selection of music when I'm in the gym is necessary to make exercising enjoyable, and it's made a massive difference to my motivation.   However, my duck earphones are still refusing to stay in my ears, despite my foam ear plug modifications.  What to do?  Naturally I consulted the internet, and mostly the suggestions seemed to involve buying a different set of earphones.  Which is no fun at all, I like my ducks!

Then I found one very simple suggestion which, if it works, will be fantastic.  Essentially the knack is to loop the earphone wires up behind your ears and over the top to the front, before putting them in.  That should just give them a little bit more support, and stop them falling out whilst I'm running.

I'll try it out on Wednesday and report back!

Reconstructed Duck Earphones.

I have been using my adorable duck earphones every time we go to the gym, and, whilst I still think they are adorable, I have to say it is really annoying that they simply will not stay in my ears.  The pieces that fit in to the ear are sort of hollow cones made out of a thin soft rubber, but the problem is that these just aren't firm enough to support the weight of the ducks when my pace picks up.

I don't like to give up on things though, especially when they are super cute, so I tried to come up with a modification that would solve the problem.

What I came up with was padding the cones internally using the top bits from a pair of foam ear plugs.  All I did was snip the top off the ear plugs with scissors, and then made a hole in the centre.  I took the cones off and turned them inside out so I could get to the tube in the centre, which I pushed the rounds of foam onto before re-fitting the cones back on the ear phones.

They are still very comfortable, and I think the foam helps block out some of the background noise but I won't know until Friday if this solves the problem.  I hope so, because I like these little guys, and they contribute a lot to making going to the gym fun.

Class of '09

This morning we went to our friend Jasmine's high school graduation, which was particularly exciting for me because we don't have graduation ceremonies like this in the UK.  My school had speech day, which the whole school had to attend every year and it was very very dull indeed.  We didn't get to dress up in caps and gowns or anything!

This being a completely new experience for me, I was very interested in all of the details.  Such as the music playing.

Why on earth is the music for American high school graduations Elgar's "Pomp and Circumstance"? Which is better known to most British people as "Land of Hope and Glory" and is essentially extolling the virtues of the mighty British empire.  Isn't that a bit of a weird choice?

Anyway...

There were speeches by four of the students, which tended towards the starry eyed, but had the virtue of brevity.  I particularly like the speech that used turtles burying their hatches of eggs as a metaphor for the high school experience.  Which made today the day that the senior hatchlings finally nosed their way out of the sand!

Then every single senior, all 350 of them, walked across the stage to collect their diplomas.  For the audience the high point was obviously when their own special student walked, so the fact that our girl was first was gratifying but meant we then had 349 we didn't give two hoots about.  Which was actually not a problem, because there was more than enough hooting, whooping and setting off of air horns to go around.  All of which was strictly prohibited on the program, but was clearly expected.

The photos above shows the iconic moment of graduation when the caps are thrown in the air at the end, it looked like blue popcorn going off.  I'm particularly impressed by that blue blob way above the students, which is someone's cap!  Afterwards Jasmine told me that they had been askd not to do that, because the caps are actually really heavy and last year two students had their noses broken by flying caps.  Fortunately this year there appeared to be no casualties from the frivolity.

When the ceremony was over, we found Jasmine and mobbed her.  She was probably the only student there whose guests included nine professors from the university they will be attending in the new semester.  I was also very taken with the tassel on her hat because she had swapped the boring standard issue one out for something with a bit of sparkle to it.  Jasmine and I are on very much the same wavelength when it comes to shiny things.

Then we went back to Laura and Randy's to see Jasmine open her presents (ours hasn't been made yet, but she knows what she's getting!), and eat ice cream cake.  The tiny cap on the cake was made from a square of dark chocolate on top of a miniature peanut butter cup.  Adorable and tasty! 

 (It was a very interesting and fun day, but I need a nap now.  Mainly because we went to bed quite late last night assuming we could sleep in this morning, only to be woken up by what I thought was the cats but turned out to be workman fixing next doors roof.  At 7am.  On a freaking Saturday.  Ugh!)

If You Hold This Post Up To A Mirror, It Makes NO Sense.

I was reading a Mental Floss post about today being the forty second anniversary of the release of Sgt. Pepper, and they had a link to a website detailing all of the clues that are supposed to indicate that Paul died in a car crash in 1966 and was replaced by a lookalike who was also, damn luckily, a soundalike. Rather impressive!  All the more so when when you read the list of 376 clues, and some of those clues actually pre-date the accident.  Were the Beatles clairvoyant, or is there a more... sinister... interpretation... that can be applied?

Actually the "Officially Pronounced Dead?" website, despite being pretty thorough in it's "Paul Is Dead" clue hunting, is maintained by a sensible man; who clearly states in the FAQ that he doesn't believe the conspiracy theory himself, but still enjoys cataloguing all the clues anyway.  It's fun!

However, if you prefer your crazy hot and fresh, check out the PID links page!  There you can find people who really are convinced that Faux Paul, or "Faul" as he is often known by PID conspiracy theorists, has been perpetrating a massive scam for over forty years now.  In fact some speculate that the same person was doubling for both Paul McCartney and Vivian Stanshall.  I heart that theory a lot, I think that one might be my very favourite mainly because how could that possibly have worked logistically?  Hmmm?

Anyway, I know none of this will be news to you, but it kept me hugely entertained through out my lunch hour and made me want to listen to more thing backwards whilst exhaustively examining cover art for those tricksy hidden messages. What I want to know is why there don't appear to have been any easter egg clues hidden on DVD releases, surely that's a missed opportunity right there!

Gleefull.

If you haven't seen it yet, I've embedded the pilot below the jump.  I'm only sorry that Hulu doesn't work outside the US, but hey I can't watch "Eastenders", "Strictly Come Dancing" or, sigh, "The Eurovision Song Contest" (Did Germany really have Dita Von Teese as part of their act this year?  And I missed it?  Damn it all!) on the BBC's iplayer, so I do feel your pain.

So here's the YouTube link to the big finale song.  You are entirely welcome!

The Ups and Downs of Being an Academic.

Doc is in the middle of a end-of-semester final paper grading frenzy.  This is usually unrelenting misery, but occasionally his face will light up with pleasure at what he's reading.  

As happened yesterday evening, when he turned to me and said:

"I love it when a student uses the word 'biaatch' in an essay!"

Which is actually justified in this instance, because it was used in the context of a paper on the aesthetics of hip-hop culture.  That particular essay made him considerably happier than the one page paper that was written in what amounted to text message speak, and should have been ten pages long.

Kirsty MacColl.

Before this evening Doc C had only ever heard the Billy Bragg version of "New England", and was totally unaware of "There's A Guy Works Done the Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis".

This has now been rectified.

Duck Earphones.

I did some very satisfying shopping whilst in Philly, as I believe I may have mentioned already.  One of the things I bought was a set of duck earphones.

I would be prepared to bet that right now you are looking at the screen and wondering what a grown woman could possibly want with duck earphones.  I'm sure that you will agree that these are far more sensible than my two other choices, which were a horribly realistic pair of flies or a Barbie pink pig (Left ear head and front legs, right ear tail and back legs).

Really I just wanted some cheap earphones for the gym, so that I don't wreck my good earphones, and these were only $11.

Plus, Hello!  Ducks!

The Difference Between Reality and Imagination.

I didn't go to this exhibition, but I really liked the banner for it.

Of course I mainly didn't go because I would only have been disappointed if the jellybean children weren't skipping around in a circle to the beautiful sound of the butterflies singing.

Pros and Cons of the Gym.

Things I don't like about going to the gym:

1. Getting up super early.
2. My face going red and blotchy, with a lovely sheen.
3. Having to shower in a public space, with only a shower curtain (if I'm lucky) to preserve my modesty.

Things I do like about going to the gym:

1. Getting to my office super early to drop off my none gym stuff, but then leaving straight away.
2. Occasionally changing direction on the elliptical machine is fun!  I don't know why.
3. Watching the calorie counter slowly add up.
4. Listening to my special Elliptical Soundtrack play list.  This morning's work out was scored by Shapeshifters, Take That, Basement Jaxx & The Beastie Boys.
5. Walking across campus in my after-work-out t-shirt, which just happens to be my Harvard T-shirt.
6. Entering exercise points into my calorie counting app on the iPod.
7. An hour after my work out I get to eat a Kashi protein bar (slightly chalky, but still dipped in chocolate!) with a cup of green tea.
8. Feeling super awake for about three hours after getting my heart rate up.
9. Brownie points from Mum, Doc C and my manager.
10. Fitting into my Diva jeans without spilling over, if you know what I mean.

Her Morning Elegance.

I know that many many blogs are linking to this video, but I thought it was something my Mum would enjoy so I am linking to it as well.

A January Monday.

It's my first day back at work after Christmas, and I actually got up at six to do some exercise, feed the cats and make a healthy packed lunch.  2009 is all about forming good habits.  Maybe.

The fur-balls were delighted to be getting food and attention so early in the morning, but Edith seriously disapproved of morning exercise routines.  It was a half hour stretching routine (The DVD I have is essentially this one, I think, but mine is called "A.M./P.M. Stretching", or something.  It's the same instructor), and Edith's contribution was to sit on the mat and attack my feet when I did the leg stretching, and after I'd shooed her away for that, she retreated to the top of the cat tower, where she could get a better view and watched me with a distinct air of "You are clearly doing that all wrong!  Stupid human, you can't stretch properly without a tail."

Just at the end, when I was working on creating a good posture for the day ahead, Edith jumped down from the tower and deliberately placed herself back on my exercise mat to throw up her breakfast.

Lovely.  Monday's are just hellish, aren't they?

Over Christmas I did decide that one thing I do need to do in the evenings after work is spend an hour by myself, so I can read books, and listen to cheesy pop music, or do yoga, or drink gin and tonic whilst flipping through a magazine, or paint my nails, or whatever!  By myself, with no-one else in the room.  It occurred to me that when I was commuting I had a solid hour every day to mentally decompress after work every day, and that's not something a ten minute drive home provides me.

So today I took a G&T, a small plate of salsa and tortilla chips and spent an hour reading "Enchanted April", whilst listening to a winning play-list of Roxette, Five, Ant & Dec and Voice of the Beehive.  It was most pleasant.

Edith: A Short Film. ***Featured Post***

Today, instead of taking a photo, I made a short video of Edith being sweet.  This of course means one thing is very clear; Alien Spouse is going to be a crazy cat lady blog for slightly longer. 
Let me give you some background on the film before I embed it.  Edith loves electronic sounds,for example if we access a website with sound on the laptop, or if I put the iPod on speaker, she comes running.  As I said yesterday she was very happy when I was testing out new ring tones for my phone, and actually my current ring tone is Edith purring loudly!

When I got the Voco Alarm Clock for my birthday I was extremely pleased, and I have to say it has to be one of the best ways to be woken up in the morning.  Edith thinks so too.  If she is in the bedroom when it goes off she jumps up on the bedside table to get closer to it. 

The clock also has a relaxation exercise on it, which Edith particularly loves, so I put my digital camera on a tripod, set the clock talking and just waited for Edith to fawn all over the clock.  I'm sorry that the sound isn't better, but if you want to clearly hear Stephen Fry in all his fabulousness it's on the Voco website.

Edith Loves My Alarm Clock from Jen Alien-Spouse on Vimeo.

(Should you be wondering why I chose to post this on Vimeo rather than Flickr or YouTube, the answer is that I spent a couple of hours trying to upload it to either of those and they just would not do it.  Vimeo behaved beautifully and uploaded smoothly, I was very happy.)

Also because this is my first film I am making this a featured post for a week, or until I get over the novelty!

Game Day.

When we got up today the weather was distinctly grey and damp, so I declared it to be Computer Game Day!  So for most of today I have been playing "Teen Titans", and I think my favourite character to play has to be Starfire.  She has some great powers, and I like being able to fly.

I've only seen the cartoon once or twice, but I love the jpop theme tune by Puffy Ami Yumi. 

It's so much fun, and I was very happy to be able to get it from iTunes.  Now that I've read their wikipedia entry, I really want to see Puffy Ami Yumi's own cartoon series.  In fact I think I need to add it to the Netflix queue; Doc C is not so thrilled.

Dr. Pepper's For All!

So Guns 'n Roses released their long awaited new album today.  In all honesty I can't say that this is an event that I would have paid that much attention to normally; however Dr. Pepper's promised to provide all of America (with the exception of Slash and Buckethead, because they are "estranged" from the group apparently) with a can of their delicious beverage if G'nR managed to actually release the album before the end of 2008.  I don't drink fizzy caffeinated soft drinks very often, but when I do my preference is for Dr. Peppers, so I am somewhat interested now.

Well the band did it, so Dr. Pepper's are honouring the promise, and by the way what the hell were the circumstances behind that one?  It's such an odd thing for them to say they would do in the first place, isn't it?  Why would they care?  And who said it?  And why?

Anyway to get the drink you have to register your name and address on their website within 24 hours of the album having been released, and they will send you a voucher. 

Except I can't register. 

I went to the website, and I clicked on the tiny link at the bottom that just said "Free Dr. Pepper", and up came a registration form.  So I filled it in and submitted, but I just got an error message.  I've tried three times now, it's very annoying.  Especially as the countdown clock tells me I only have 7 hours left in which to register!  Damn it!

My First iPod.

I have been wanting an iPod Touch for a while now, and now that I'm working full time again I can actually afford to buy one.  Yay!

There is only one problem: What do I get engraved on the back?  If you buy it from the Apple store directly you can get two lines of text laser engraved for free, which seems silly to turn down, except that I have been trying to decide what I want for nearly a week now.  I think I've got the first line sorted now, but the second line is giving me a bit of trouble.  There is only enough space for 29 characters in each line, and it is really hard to come up with some thing pithy, yet meaningful and/or funny in that small amount of space.

Any suggestions gratefully accepted!

Halloween Records. Want!

I was thrilled when I saw these in a record shop window the other day.  They are, respectively, the soundtrack to the classic vampire time-travel soap opera "Dark Shadows" (I've only seen the remake, but I have heard tales of the originals genius) and a sound effects LP full of bloodcurdling! Terrifying!  Horrific!  "Sounds to Make You Shiver".

As it happens Doc C had the sound effects album as a kid and loved it, which explains a lot about his lack of reaction to horror movies.  I also know someone in London who would probably love the "Dark Shadows" soundtrack on CD, but I doubt an LP would survive the journey, even if he had a record player to spin it on.

I also can only apologise for the glare, Picnik helped dissipate the worst of it but I was craning around a rack of second-hand coats and just could get the right angle to eliminate the glare from the sun altogether.

The Bling Should Have Tipped Me Off.

I was messing around when I got up this morning, and I looked over the top of the stairs down to the living room where the cats were and I called down "Good Morning Ladies!  All the ladies in the house say mew!".

And, right on cue, Nancy ran up the stairs mewing at me. 

Clearly someone is a fan of hip-hop; or she thought I was going to feed her - One or the other.

Ngaio Marsh 15: Swing Brother, Swing.

Ahh! Lovely! I find this fabulous image so soothing after yesterday's eyesore.  And I love the frock that the woman is wearing on this cover, it's so gorgeously fifties in shape and a beautiful colour too.

As I am sure you would immediately guess from the cover art this particular mystery is set in a jazz club, and it is a really fun plot.   

Ngaio Marsh 8: Overture to Death.

There really isn't much to say about this cover, except to note that we are back to the non-dancing penguin and the more friendly looking of the author's portraits. 

As to the book itself I must mention that this has to be one of my favourite of Miss Marsh's murder scenarios, because it involves the miss-use of a meccano set (although she doesn't use that brand name, it's clear that's what she's referencing) and a village hall piano.  Genius!