Mary Bellamy

I'll give you two guesses as to which one was me.

I've been a Shakespeare slacker this year. I still haven't been to any of the Bardathon. I am going tonight for the midnight reading, which means I am going to spend the night at a friend's house and will be very tired at work tomorrow. Bardathon was much easier when I worked until 1 a.m. at the newspaper and could just wander over and join the late-night/early-morning readings without worrying about being at work for 9 a.m.

I'll also be going back on Saturday when they will take a brief break from Shakespeare and focus on one of the masters of modern playwriting, Tom Moran. (Tom, you owe me $2 for that.) He wrote Friar with a Crowbar last year, and I'm going to be ditching a baby shower I'm hosting in order to attend.

OK, I'm not really ditching the shower, just taking a break for Tom's play. And it's not so much a shower as it is a henna party with a whole lot of Indian food and a Bollywood. Because I'm not so much a baby person as I am an "I love Rachel and Bollywood and henna" person.

First I lapsed on the posting front, and then apparently my blog had a meltdown. Apologies. Everything should be right as rain now.

I was at brunch a few weeks ago and a friend started asking me what I had on the line. It seems that as the token single person at the event, I was expected to regale them with stories of wild nights. For obvious reasons, I can't post all my sordid tales here (Hi Mom!), but I can share this: I have a personal ad online. In that personal ad, I make it clear that my dates need to be capable of intelligent discourse. I go so far as to put the phrase "Spelling counts" in the headline. And in response I get e-mails like this:

ok im [name] lol no i have no idea what bollywood is but did you mean dollywood i know what that is lol anyway i like you profile and agery with you on a lot of things you have in there i dont think this massage is to clever but o well i cant spell ether but i do hope to here back from you evin if its a no i dont think your my tipe at lest i will no than so thats enuf now hope to here from you soon.........oh and sorry about the bad spelling and tipeing

Words fail me.

Friday was the Snow Ball at the Marlin, hosted by Sweating Honey. There is nothing better than a band playing in white tuxes in a basement bar. Except getting dressed up to go to the ball!

I finally found a man who can break my will on the dance floor. I have a touch of a dominant streak, and I tend to try to lead. Tristan just took control and spun me until I gave up. I like to think he was just clearing the path for all the men I danced with afterward, as I finally let them lead.

On Saturday, I stopped back in at the Marlin where the band was playing once again, but this time not in tuxes. As per usual, I was still dressed up. After a quick martini, Dara and I headed out to Garrison's house for Portia's goodbye party. She is heading to Texas for a year to attend midwife school. The party was one of those bizarre series of people and events that cannot be fully explained, but suffice it to say that by the end of the night we were throwing ping pong balls, there was a potato in the refrigerator with a phone number written on it, and I kept singing Dio every time someone mentioned the Chili Driver.

Now I'm trying to figure out how to make up my sleep deficit and still manage to attend some of Bardathon, which started this weekend.

It's 5:30 p.m. The work day is over. I just noticed that my shirt is on inside out. I'm going to go to the gym and see if I can put those clothes on properly.

And on a side note, it is FINALLY warming up. I try not to kvetch about the weather too much, because I do voluntarily live in Alaska. But just so you know, today was the first day since December 27 that it has risen above -30.
Yesterday: -40
Today: -4

When I hit the gym after work yesterday, it was uncharacteristically crowded. I have always been a morning gym person, so I kind of wondered if it's normally that busy. Then I realized that I was surrounded by New Year's Resolution type people. There were certain cues.

Step one when going to the gym is wearing the proper attire. The woman on the elliptical wearing woven cotton pajama bottoms and one of those spaghetti strap tanks that touts built-in support? The guy running laps in over-the-ankle hiking boots? These are not the normal denizens of the gym.

Step two is, of course, proper gym behavior. Go in the same direction as everyone else on the track, even if it is 15 steps shorter to go the other way to get to the stairs. If you are walking, use the walk lane. If you are walking with a friend, you'd damn well better be walking close to each other, not spreading across 2 lanes.

And for the love of God, leave your kids at home. I get it: They're precious and babysitters are expensive. But while you are well adjusted to the rhythm of life with a child, I am not. I do not like your abrupt stops in the middle of the track to let the child climb out of the baby stroller and walk all by itself! While you may be able to stretch in a state of zen while your child runs in a circle around you, that child is actually physically running into me, and it's pissing me off. And if you do bring your whole family to the gym, please use a locker room. Do not leave your coats and boots in a massive pile upstairs. The dance floor is closed for refinishing, so there is only a tiny, tiny space for everyone to stretch upstairs. Your outwear is not cool.

Rant over.

Turns out it was just an issue with Blogger. I couldn't make any changes to the XML without getting an error message, but I now have dates. Well, I have dates for one post per day. If there's more than one post, only the top one gets a date and the rest are left blank. So there's still something to work on.

The first step to throwing a successful party is to select a theme. Initially I was drawn to A Very Jewish Christmas, mostly because I wanted to make latkes. But then I remembered how yummy moussaka is, and so it became My Big Fat Greek Christmas.

Tom had already created some festive art a few days before.

And the holidays wouldn't be fun without friends.



Before we gorged, we saunaed. It's both a verb and a tradition.

And after the meal, we kept up another sacred holiday tradition - the anti-Christmas movie. In this case, Top Gun with RiffTrax.

And of course I lit a fire. This will be a common theme.


Since Christmas is one of the Seven Major Holidays, I can once again treat you to images of James at a high level of drunkenness.


It gets better.



The day after Christmas, I went to visit with Rachel and Glenmore before he headed off to Iraq. On the way home, I stopped at the store for some supplies. This would prove key in the days to come.

First up: I needed to make some gifts for Tom. And what better says "I used to love you but now we're just friends" than Skittles vodka?


Actually, I lied. The Skittles vodka, while clever, was not the best possible gift.

Remember how I said that fire would be a prevalent theme and that it was fortunate I went to the store? On December 27 my car stopped starting. Or maybe is started stopping. I'm not quite sure, but one thing was clear: I was going nowhere fast.

To be fair, Fairbanks had fallen into a bit of a cold snap. If one considers -40 cold. Personally, I consider it to be the magical moment when Fahrenheit and Celsius collide. I brought my battery inside overnight to try to warm it up, and put it back in the car the next day. No dice. I resumed my work of starting fires, keeping fires going, running space heaters to try to thaw the pipes, etc.

Now, I had already broken my wireless router before Christmas. Since the house was hovering around 50 degrees but my bedroom was considerably warmer, I decided to bring the modem up there. Big mistake. That is when the entire Internet went bye-bye. Fortunately Bob left me with a lot of TV. I have now seen all of Heroes. I can see how it might be addictive, though when you watch it all back to back, it gets tiring to see certain characters continually flop between two positions.

By December 31, the situation was starting to get a little dire. I was running a little low on food and a lot low on morale. Even though it was his birthday, Tom agreed to go buy me food, get me movies and come over to my house. The cupboards were getting empty, but I was not without a few tricks.
Tom graciously brought over burgers from Brewsters. We hooked my thawed battery up to his car and left it jumping for a while, then tried reinstalling it in my car. No dice. The car was frozen solid.

Back inside, we decided to take a culinary journey to India. Or at least drink some Indian sodas I had in the cupboard.

First up: Spice soda. The label seemed to have cumin seeds on it, but we didn't let that deter us.


We should have.

Tom, being an optimist, noted that we hadn't actually puked yet. I realized that this stuff was worse than Unicum.


Next stop: Masala Soda.


And our third stop was me desperately swigging water. Tom couldn't believe it was worse. It tasted like cumin, with cardamom - but not enough to be tasty - and ginger - but not enough to settle my stomach.


It's worth noting that Tom Moran refused to finish the drink. And that man will eat anything.

Finally, on Jan. 1, the temperature rose to a balmy -26. I spent about 3 hours rotating pans of hot coals underneath my car, then reinstalled the battery and finally achieved success. The temperature is back down in the -40 range, with no hope of warmth anytime soon.

The kinks are not all worked out. Namely, I cannot for the life of me get the date to show up on my posts - only the time. What good does the time do? I want dates! If I can't get it working, I may revert to my old template and go back to the drawing board.

Sigh. I just wanted to finally have valid XML code.

I broke the Internet. My failed attempt to change the settings on my wireless router earlier this week has resulted in a nonfunctional wireless router. Oh, sure, the little lights come on, which is very festive and pretty this time of year. I can ping the router, and my computer says it is working. But the damn thing will not connect to the Internet. I currently suffer the great indignity of having to compute in a single location. Two, if I count the outlet in my bedroom. I can only use one computer at a time. Surely this is hell.

Christmas was really something this year. When I take the time to download pictures to my other computer, format them, put them on a drive, download them to this computer and then upload them to the Internet, you'll get to see just how fun. Yesterday I went to visit Rachel and Glenmore. G is leaving tonight for Iraq, so I wanted to get a little quality time with him. I also got cookies and fudge, so the trip was a success.

The gym cheated me on Christmas eve. They had sent out an e-mail to all UAF employees with the holiday schedule. I woke up on Dec. 24, baked cookies, braved the grocery store (and felt a rage I've not felt since my last trip to Bad Feng Shui Fred Meyer), and then grabbed my gym bag from my office and went to the SRC. My first thought was "Great! Almost no cars! I'll have the gym to myself!" My second thought was "Wait, why are the lights on inside the gym, but off in the office?" Someone had crossed out the 7 p.m. closing time on the sign on the door and wrote in 2 p.m. It was 4:45. They owe me.

I would go work out today, but it's currently -25 outside. I know it's not as cold as, say, -50, but it's still cold enough for me to decide not to drive into town if the only purpose of my trip is to exercise. I'm going to pretend that I'll exercise at home. I may dance or hoop a bit later on, perhaps even some yoga. But I'm not setting foot outside unless it's to grab more firewood.

I'm running low on reading material, but Bob left me with a lot of TV. I've started watching season 1 of The Big Bang Theory. I'm enjoying it, and I understand why other people find the show funny, but frankly I relate to the geeks. Plus, I think that if I had geeky neighbors, my Internet wouldn't be broken.

Given my latest computer woes, it's probably not the right time for me to undertake a new web project, and yet I feel the urge. Details to come.

Your help,please. I've been trying to come up with an "Overwrought" playlist for my iPod, but I need some suggestions. What constitutes an overwrought song? Well, it's pretty much song where the emotional level of the singing far outweighs the meat of the lyrics.

The rules are that only one song from an artist can be nominated. This eliminates the chance of people suggesting the discography of, say, Meatloaf. Or Tom Jones. Or Neil Diamond. Instead, you've got to say "I would do anything for love (but I won't do that)" or "Delilah" or "Captain of a shipwreck."

Here's what I've got so far:

• Bangles - Eternal Flame
• Martika - Toy Soldiers
• Aerosmith - What it takes
• Chris Isaak - Wicked Game
• Asia - Heat of the Moment
• Dio - Holy Diver
• Cyndi Lauper - All Through the Night
• Don Henley - The Boys of Summer
• Dusty Springfield - Son of a preacherman
• George Michael - Somebody Tell Me or maybe Teacher
• Glen Campbell - Rhinestone Cowboy
• Gordon Lightfoot - Sundown or If You COuld Read My Mind?
• the "Enterprise" theme song
• "Man in motion" from St. Elmo's Fire
• Journey - Don't stop believin'
• Poison - Every rose has its thorn
• Susan Tedeschi - It hurt so bad
• Europe - The final countdown
• Coolio - Gangster's paradise
• Kim Carnes - Bette Davis eyes
• Starship - Sara
• Frank Black - Los Angeles
• Jamie O'Neal - All by myself
• Jars of clay - Flood
• John Denver - Take me home, country roads
• Lee Greenwood - Proud to be an American
• Laura Branigan - Gloria
• Ozzy Osbourne and Lita Ford - If I close my eyes forever

So, suggestions for Bon Jovi, Winger, Damn Yankees, etc.?

edit to add suggestions:
Mama Caselli sez Night Ranger - Sister Christian
Tom sez Asia - Don't Cry; Journey - Separate Ways
Mr. Caselli sez Nazareth - Love Hurts
Archeobot sez Def Leopard - Love Bites; Guns N Roses - November Rain; Bon Jovi - Livin' On A Prayer; Winger - I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

I can't believe that it took me until Dec. 22 to hear "Christmas Wrapping" by The Waitresses. That's my 80s Christmas song. Then again, I only listen to the radio if my iPod is in my bag. I don't understand why they always take one of the only decent radio stations and make it all Christmas music. We seriously only have about 7 radio stations. Can't they take the country one?

Nasty weather seems to be ensuring that most of the country will also have a white Christmas, but it's also been stranding a lot of people. James was supposed to fly to Dallas on Monday, but will not be leaving until after Christmas. I have demanded that he come to my dinner and sauna. I was briefly flirting with cooking A Very Jewish Christmas, but that was mostly because I wanted to make latkes.

Insomnia on Monday combined with waking up at 4 today to take Bob to the airport means I am very sleepy. I worked two 10-hour days, and thus will not be going in to work at all tomorrow. Instead I will bake and clean and go to the gym. I don't have to go to work again until Jan. 5, but don't get jealous. UAF closes down between Christmas and New Year's, but doesn't give all their employees vacation time. Only 4 days are covered, and you are required to use leave time for the other days. It could suck more - when I was a temporary hire (my first 16 months at UAF), I didn't accrue vacation time, and thus had to take unpaid leave.

I managed to break my wireless network tonight, and am currently connected to the modem. Oh, the indignity. And all because I decided it was time to require a password to get on my network. I brought my new iBook home and saw that it could locate another network, so it suddenly seemed wise to add a password. Bad idea. Now I'm torn between cooking and fixing.

One of my friends is settling down and buying a house. They accepted her offer and today was inspection day. In the basement, she noticed hinges along some of the pegboard wall, which pulled back to show a padlocked door. And beyond the door? A grow room. Another friend wants to know if the grow room increases the house's value. I love Fairbanks.

I've been up since 4:30, though I've been trying to deny it. Looks like I'll be going to the gym and work early today. Stupid insomnia.

I dye my hair. Yeah, shocker, it's not really red. Quite frankly, I blame my parents for not passing on the correct genetic makeup. They got just about everything else right, though. But my point here is that it's getting close to time to dye my hair again, and the roots are getting visible. As I was getting ready for dinner with some friends tonight, I happened to look closely and I think I saw gray hair. Mind you, I only think I saw the gray hair. I made Celine look, and she said she couldn't see any gray hair, but I think it's there. Is it time to admit I'm no longer young?

What is the face of evil?

This, my friends. At work today, we had a white elephant gift exchange, and that man stole my gift! My dvd of Office Space - the special edition with Extra Flair! I'd call him a dirty rat bastard, but some of my coworkers read this blog. I seized the opportunity to take advantage of the an-item-can-only-be-stolen-three-times rule and finalized the ownership of The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead.

In entirely unrelated news, I decided to send my mom an e-mail letting her know the Christmas package was on its way. But, what with my personality, this is what came out:

Fort Fairbanks
December 18, 1863

Dearest Mother,

I write to you today to inform you of a recent package sent via Pony Express. It contains tokens of my affection which I hope will help my family to remember me while I am away during these holidays. Please do, at your earliest opportunity, open the parcel, for it contains some goods which may not last until Christmas morn. I speak, of course, of a small gold tin, which contains baked goods for my beloved sister, Jeanne, and her husband. I fear if not given early, these tender morsels of my affection may be bitter and inedible by the time the holiday celebration dawns. Also in the package, but not disguised by the normal trappings of Christmas finery, are two small discs which contain a multitude of music for both my father and my sister and her husband. I rather think they will find these discs a most wondrous invention, for though they bear none of the grooves of our old records (and fondly do I remember those wintry days of my youth when we would listen to records for hours) yet still they issue forth melodies. I dare say I do not understand how such devices create the sounds, but hope that all present might enjoy them.

I had hoped to send monies to you for the purchase of some local spirits for my sister and her husband. Alas I discovered only after my parcel had been taken forth from this place that I had neglected to send the cheque. I will, at my earliest opportunity, send one payable to your order, so that you should not face any unnecessary hardships during these times.

As we are fighting on the front lines, our local command sergeant has seen fit to raise our combat pay, and I entreat you to spend $50 on spirits. The local shopkeeper would surely know of a suitable drink, though if he does not or is a teetotaler (as many these days are), I pray you ask of him for some nice red wines. Don't let him fool you with cheap goods, as some tricksters are wont to do, but rather insist on an Argetinian Malbec or a Shiraz or Red Zinfandel. I have heard also that some white wines are quite pleasing to the palate, though our supply lines have been cut off in the winter and I cannot reasonably advise on any.

The time wears slowly away, though my superiors tell me that the end approaches plainer to view. We are now slowly and surely closing ranks along the city and in a few days I think a glorious victory will be won and a bright day will dawn upon our afflicted company. I still cannot get my colonel to grant a furlough, else I would be home with you for the holidays. I hope these few lines may find you enjoying good health. I remain as always, your affectionate daughter.

Mary V. Haley
Corporal, Company H
17th Alaska Regiment

And her reply?

Beloved daughter,

I received your missive and was happy to hear that all is well with you. I have just finished stringing the cranberry and popcorn for the garland. This forenoon I made several French meat pies and readied a stuffing for our Christmas turkey. This year with conditions such as they are, there is nary a goose available to grace our holiday table. At present we are in the midst of a heavy snow storm. The snow is falling at about 2 inches and hour so there is much shoveling to be done. The Lebanon stables were not prepared for this storm so the horses will not be available for our use until perhaps a day or two.
For now I will busy myself with some knitting. Sister Mary I presume is still knitting her scarf. She seems to have great difficulty in maintaining a pattern. However, I have often told her not to worry. As long as the scarves are nice and warm, no one will notice a few errors in pattern. One must give her credit for her perseverance in mediocrity. I will be working on an afghan to lay over the bed warmer.
Your uncle James is in the vicinity of Fort Griswold in Groton. We are presently unsure of his condition and can hopefully assume that all is well with him. Yesterday I spoke with your grandparents. They too are in Groton. Your grandfather is doing his part in securing his domicile. He stands watch generally from early morning until evening. Your grandmother is still working on the quilt she began about 15 years ago. It should be a work of art if she ever manages to complete it.

Your father was unable to get to New London today. The roads are impassable so he was disturbed but agreed he could only stay home. Your sister did go to her office this morning but was back home before lunch. Her husband was unable to get to New Haven. In good weather, it is a very long trek so it was unthinkable that he should attempt it in the midst of a storm. Your sister is doing some holiday baking while her husband tends to the wood stove and the roadway.

I bid thee farewell for now and will let you know when we receive your package.

We send you all our love and fondest wishes for a wonderful holiday.
Devotedly,
Father and Mother

Yeah, that stuff seems to run in the family.

Awkward: Trying to get into your work building at 9:45 p.m. when a girl is on the speakerphone next to the card swipe, begging her boyfriend to come downstairs and talk to her.

Awkwarder: Trying to get back to your car 10 minutes later and encountering them in the stairwell where she is crying and asking him to come home.

Also, WTF? How did I get an A in my art class? OK, technically an A-, but still.... I was not expecting that. I refer you to my Type A personality, as discussed in posts prior to the start of the class.

To be honest, my craft projects sometimes go spectacularly wrong. This one wasn't so bad, except that apparently you can't etch some Pyrex. Live and learn.

This was not one of my wildest weekends, and I blame that on not drinking. I blame not drinking on some medications that will, apparently, kill me if I drink. Also, I never, ever want to see these words on my medications: May cause tendon rupture. Tendon rupture? Are you serious? I'm scared to go to they gym tomorrow, as I think both running and lifting weights are in the may-cause-tendon-rupture category even before they get pharmaceutical help.

Despite the not-drinking, I still went out to the Pub with some MFA boys after a reading on Friday. The sobriety was more apparent on Saturday when I went to Super Smooth Andy G's housewarming. Yes, our favorite SSAG has moved up into civilized society. Congratulations on your new 7 acres. I guess this mean you won't have to ride your snowmachine in a tight circle around your Goldstream cabin anymore.

A friend of a friend was moving to Fairbanks this weekend and needed a ride out to Chena Hot Springs. I offered to do it, and after several back and forth vollies, it was decided that he had found another ride. I, however, had gotten myself in a hot springs kind of mood, so Tom and I took a trip out early this afternoon. We tried to go out for dinner on the way back but were stymied several times. 1: Mia's was closed for a private party. A wedding. Judging by the smell at the door, the bride wore tempura. 2: Harley's is apparently closed for the season. Since we were already out in North Pole, we decided to check out the Mambo Grill. The food was quite good, but we were mostly sharing the restaurant with babies. If you know anything about me, it is that I don't like babies. Baby #1 was OK, relatively quiet except for a few screeches. Baby #2 came in halfway through our meal, which prompted us to start shoveling down our food with abandon. Baby #2, you see, was apparently the crossbreed of a young North Pole female and Satan. The thing just wouldn't stop crying. In the brief moments when it paused to gather its breath for another aural assault, I overheard its mother saying that it had not had its nap. Well, fuck, lady. If your child hasn't had a nap and is cranky, maybe you shouldn't be taking it out to a restaurant where nice people (and some not-so-nice people, such as myself) are trying to eat. But the restaurant did make some damn good shrimp.

Has everyone been emoticaroling yet? Tom refuses to get into a war with me, but he did fire back this volley:



FYI, we are surmising that "dort" is German for "dork." This is, of course, based on the, um, video of Hamlet being performed in Klingon at DortCon, which is a sci-fi convention in Germany.

And yes, you have to spell things wrong if you want the emoticarolers to pronounce them right.

I managed to keep myself amused.

New books.
New music.
Newfound lust for watches. Right around the time I need a new one, too.