So You Think You're Tougher than a Kindergartener?

20

I think I could actually take on 43. But that's only if I was wearing my heels and had gotten my teeth sharpened.

Also Known As Hype

The Shot Train is loading up on West Virginia coal and is scheduled to depart on Friday, just as planned. Here's some respect, doubling as hype.

Growing Optimism

I'm excited for this. Little baby Samuel. Due in March. To one of my very best friends, Dear Elijah. Samuel has made me happy today. As has thinking about the comment his mom made about chicken yesterday.

It's Just How I Feel

Dear MLK Day 2008,

Fuck you.

Love,
Amber

Tail Tales

One year ago, on an icy deck outside of a mountain cabin, feeling warm and wobbly from one too many, I turned on a dime, lost a sense of equilibrium and butt planted in Gatlinburg. My one witness, a fellow I call Jon Connor, isn't equipped to deal with my whining, so I bottled it up and relished in the satisfaction of knowing "that'll hurt tomorrow."

Well, tomorrow has been going on for a year now. Some women, like my older, sturdier, braver sister, break their tailbones doing things like giving birth, but some of us, well, we lose our balance. I've had bad days every now and then for the last year, but I'm usually able to get through it by sitting on the couch and ordering Chinese takeout. Today, though, nothing was working. Not even the sweet pot of tulips or the Black History Month card Mack got me. 

I got home from work, where I sat down all day, and I couldn't sit down. I tried to sit on Mack's new motorcycle and realized that the extent of this injury and my neglecting it hoping it magically heals itself is ridiculous. 

I get not being able to walk, not being able to stand, not being able to leap small buildings in a single bound... but not being able to sit, that is just humiliating. I think the busted tail bone is flaring up because I've been riding my bike to work, and since I *heart* my new bike, I have to deal with this butt bone issue asap. I'm, against my self-conscious judgment, going to invest in one of those hemorrhoid cushions until this crap gets better. I just hope they have one with skulls or swords on it so I don't feel like such a wimp.  

Wanderlust (Part 1 in a Series)

Ever since Jamaica, regular life has just sucked. Knowing time isn't all it's cracked up to be. "Brisk" is just a word used to make cold sound snappier. And I hate cars more than ever.

If I could just give up my job and wander the world for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest person on earth. But since I only get 10 days of vacation a year and since my dog is barely hanging on even with my care, escaping doesn't happen as often as it should. As often as I neeeeeeeed it to. So instead of actually going anywhere, I'm going to spend the next few minutes virtually visiting one of the places I hope to visit someday in the near future -- like before 2010.

IceHotel

This is in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden, 200km inside the arctic circle.
You can only go to it in the winter because in the summer it's actually a whitewater river called the Torne River. But in December and January, artists and architects meet to create an igloo mansion under the Northern Lights, complete with ice beds, ice chairs, ice bars and ice art.





It's the coolest thing in the world during winter, and in the spring, it goes back to being a river, which is also cool. Now if I could just scrounge up the $800 a night to stay in this chiseled piece of modern art...

Letters to the Cupboard (Part 1 in a Series)

Dear Poppin' Jalapeño Doritos,

I knew when I saw you in the grocery store that I should have just walked right past you, should have left you in that mound with your friends Taco/Ranch and Blue Cheese/Buffalo Wings, but my willpower self caved when my deal monger self caught sight of the 3 for $5 sign gracing Mount Doritos. Damn deal monger self.

I put you in my cart hoping that would shut you up and went through the store buying sensible things I don't eat in a puddle of shame. Morningstar sausage patties were $1 off, eggs were $1 cheaper than they were last week. As I stood in the checkout line unloading my cart I managed to resist the salty whisper of the PayDay bars and opted to use my purchase power to put a smile on Mack's face with a Crunch bar. It would have been a wholly successful trip to the grocery, complete with all the fixins for chili and bean salad, if not for you tarnishing my cart. What is it about you that I cannot resist?

As if the public disgrace at the grocery store wasn't bad enough, when I got home you put me into a trance so deep that I couldn't put the groceries away until you were devoured, until all evidence of my weakness was consumed, until all traces of a bag of corn chips having power over me were cleaned up. About 75% of the way through the bag, feeling like a junkie who's already injected too much, torn between a world of sobriety and one of thrilling impulse, I regained control and stuffed you into the cupboard where you should have been 8 servings earlier.

Yesterday I managed to ignore you all day, mostly because I was out of earshot. But today, the minute I walked in the door from work, you started up again. Crunchy, salty, ready. Your convenience and powdered flavor is just impossible to resist. You want to be good, I know you do. That's why you put the 0g Trans Fats on your packaging. But you aren't good. You are a very, very bad food. And you please need to shut up now.

Love,
Amber

Do What?

To better understand what I am presently doing with my life from 9-6, M-F, take a look.




Because now that our own private site is what you would call "live," I, and any of my friends I've made do an interview with me, can embed videos into our blogs.

Capessa is joy. And technology. And I expect everyone I know to join.

You Think You Know Dasher...

Where has Ms. Thomas been the last 23 days, you are probably wondering. Well...

I dashed home the weekend of Dec. 15 to see this:

Then I dashed back to L.A. that Monday to launch this:

With all the dashing I was doing, I was really putting Santa to shame, so he (in the form of Mack) brought me this:

Then a couple days later I dashed to Jamaica for this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this: 

And some more of this:

I seriously doubt the next 23 days will be quite as dashing, but I do have a legendary ski trip to attend in 27 days, so that should kick things up a notch. In the meantime, I am doing this:
Happy New Year!