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I must be nuts, but if nothing else this is a good way to make up for lost blogging time. I'm not sure I can keep it up, but with Shabbat ending so early this time of year I have no excuse for Saturday nights, and without gainful employment outside the home I have no excuse for any other day, either. So, here it is: my first post of NaBloPoMo.

Erm, I should probably write something profoud, shouldn't I? Something more insightful than a glimpse at what we're having for dinner? (Homemade sushi maki, mostly vegetable rolls because I don't trust myself with raw fish, but there will be California roll as well, assuming the mock crab sticks I have are still good. I think I undercooked the rice slightly. And oversweetened the vinegar. Bah. At least there'll be soba noodles and edamame to fill up empty belly space.) It need not be earth-shattering, but a month of dinner menus is not going to get me anywhere in the blogging world. Not unless I also open a cooking school, which...no. I'm good, but I'm nowhere near that good.

Over the course of the past few weeks I finally almost-finished unpacking, sorting, and shelving our books. I say "almost-finished" for two reasons: (1) there are definitely still some books lurking the corners of still-packed boxes...I recognize that there are titles missing, but I just can't find them; and (2) there's a smal;l stack of books, mainly my casebooks from law school, that will not fit on the living room shelves and are destined for a bookcase in our bedroom...which does not yet exist. The bookcase, I mean, not the bedroom. The bedroom is most certainly there, along with a very comfy new bed whose existence I verify each and every night, and most afternoons as well.

I'm calling that good eough for starters. No, it's not profound, not in the least, but I fear that if I try too hard right now, I'll only get discouraged.

This has got to be the most pathetic attempt at NaBloPoMo ever. I already missed the second day! Is there any way to redeem myself? Probably not...

I can't start every post this month with "Oh crap what did I get myself into?" - can I? But, really, I feel like I have nothing to say. Except...I am very, very, very grateful for our dishwasher. I made a North Indian vegetarian (mostly vegan, actually) mini-feast for dinner his past Shabbat, and nearly every dairy pot and pan in the kitchen has something adhering to the interior. (It perhaps would not be so bad if I'd bothered to rinse out the pans as I went along, but who has time for that on a Friday this time of year?) Add to that dinner plates, dessert plates, and utensils for five people, not to mention servingware, and you have a pretty decent pile of dirty stacked next to the sink...and on the passthrough...and on the stovetop... And who wants to waste a motzei Shabbat scrubbing dishes, when there are so many other, more enjoyable things to do. Like post drivel to meet the requirements of NaBloPoMo.

Perhaps tomorrow I can get myself to talk about politics.

Hey, at least I can admit that I'm writing crap, right? This morning, shotly after I woke up, I read that Saddam Hussein had been sentenced to death by hanging. Perfect! I thought. Now I can do a whole weighty blog post about the death penalty in general, and this sentence in particular. Alas, no. Instead I shall complain about the lousy options for endtables and coffee tables (which are apparently properly called "cocktail tables" - who knew?) at Jordan's, and the almost-completely-random manner in which two grown adults will go about selecting new pillows for their bed (included in the process: an actual calculation of whether it would be more cost effective to buy two king size pillows or three standard size pillows).

There. I've complained.

This is the most pathetic NoBloPoMo attempt ever.

Today put on my best pinch-hitter hat and I helped out in our shul office for a couple of hours, mainly answering phones. And damned if I didn't almost-say "Hello! Young Israel of Cornell - how may I help you?" when I picked up the phone. Every. Single. Time. But only almost. I'm sure it would have been very confusing for the guy calling about minyanim in the greater Boston area to have gotten the impression that he had dialed upstate New York instead.

There are still a couple of hours before the polls close. If you haven't yet (and you didn't mess up your registration like I did - mab please don't kill me!): GO VOTE!

Obviously I wasn't able to stick with that whole NaBloPoMo thing. Oh well.

In the meantime (and with thanks to maric for showing me the way), I am dellighted to announce that I am, apparently, in tune with my (somewhat disturbed) feminine side:

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

The other day, Julian spotted this commercial on TV:

I missed the very beginning, but a couple of seconds after I started watching, I shouted out: "TRON!" Gotta maintain the Child Of The Eighties street cred, right?

And then I stared at the screen, waiting to see what product was being advertised. (Remember: missed the beginning, and was watching this on an actual television so no helpful filenames.) When the logo for the Honda Civic came onto the screen, I grumbled, "Well, that was a clever commercial, but the Civic's target audience has no clue what Tron is." Those of us who know about Tron - and will appreciate the commercial - are way older than the demographic they're trying to sell to. Even I (at age almost-27) am at the very young tail end of people who know Tron...people in their 30s are more like it. And people in their 30s generally aren't buying Civics. The ones who are will do so even without the commercial; and Honda shouldn't be selling Civics to the rest of them when they could instead be pitching the Accord (or the Pilot something else more appropriately sized for families with 1.7 children).

All that said - I still like the commercial.

I had a cavity filled this afternoon in a lower molar (#19, for those of you who know the system). Because of the tooth's location, my dentist had to inject the anesthetic fairly low and far back, resulting in the numbing of not only my tongue and lower lip (and the tooth, of course), but also part of my throat on one side. ow that I'm home, I'm trying to decide which sensation is stranger for the numbness: kissing my husband with only three-quarters of my lips, or drinking cold water with only half my throat.