The Boys are Back

...And on the contrary (of bad music), the most savvy, succulent Irish rockers are back in my life. That's right, U2 has a new album. It's coming out in a matter of days, and already I've enjoyed previews of the delicious melodies to come. What's not to love about them? Always exciting, many times surprising, there's never a dull moment...and usually more than just clever tunes and lyrics behind the song, the singer and the rest of the snazzy crew.

I hate to think of myself as a groupie--the word itself makes me cringe. But if paying to see them live 7 times and being thrilled about new brilliance on the horizon classifies me as the G word, I guess I can't deny it. March 3 is the special date. Hope you'll be buying then...Think of it as an economic stimulus inspiration package.

Journey: Most Annoying Band

I can't explain my need to blog about Journey and its annoying-ness. I liken their songs to televised football games, where all you can hear is the constant yelling of the announcers and a muffled crowd screaming at all times. I just want to tune it out. And you can't even enjoy it with chips and a sub.

And I do want to "Stop Believing." Stop believing that Journey can still be around...and touring...and invading otherwise decent radio stations with regurgitated early 80's tunes. My brother and sister-in-law saw them a couple of years ago, and as of late 2008 they were actually still doing sold out shows. WTF? Am I the weird one here?

There's a new lead singer too. Again. Lead singer number three. Isn't it really boy-bandish to get a new lead singer twice...after years and years of writing and performing music, splitting up for 10 years, and then reforming? Not that I have a great allegiance to Steve Perry, but really, Journey, REALLY. Can't you just go off and call yourselves something completely different, and disappear for another 20?

By the way, I'm a sucker for the song "Faithfully," but if I needed to trade it for a Journey-free satellite, I'd make the arrangement in seconds.

IT Madness

I love our IT guys at work. But I would never want their jobs...most precisely because of people like me who are always bugging them.

I like to think I make a big time effort to correct most problems before I seek help, but I use a lot of "server hogging" software and they despise the marketing side of things. If they had it their way, all e-mails would be plain text and life would exist only in numbers and back end programming. And strangely, in their world, those things would be enticing for people we're trying to convince to give money, join the cause, make a difference, etc.

But I have to give it to them: they are fast, witty and reliable. Like today, when our terminal services were interrupted and I had the inconvenience of not being able to log on at 6:40 a.m. from my home (a time when most normal people are working...HELLO). In less than 8 seconds, I had a speedy reply to my e-mail with the reason for the interruption. Followed by another e-mail when the updates were done. Followed by an IM received at the exact time of my log on (a second after getting the last message) saying "Wow, you don't waste any time."

It's incredible how well they monitor who's doing what, who has sent what, whose streaming audio is slowing the server down for everyone. I'm just wondering, can they see me when I'm in the bathroom?

Double the Sushi

My dad came to town last weekend, and we really enjoyed our time together. Visiting the always lovely Robinson Preserve; taking a driving tour of Anna Maria Island through Longboat Key and downtown Sarasota; and grabbing a bite to eat on the outdoor patio at The Sungarden on Siesta (Gropius gives it 4 stars). We even got to enjoy the various bizarre running styles of the tired athletes finishing up the Sarasota marathon.

An embarrassing moment: the 5 minutes it took to complete the delivery of the sushi that was ordered at Saijo. You know those ginormous boats that come with very large orders? Well the four of us, including one child, received two of them PLUS two extra plates. It was slightly more food than would be required to feed an entire village for a week.

In addition to the gluttonous portion that is usually ordered and consumed during one of my family's sushi trecks, there was a tiny miscalculation in the number of pieces we thought we were getting, resulting in double the fun. I was grateful to be at a table outside, in a rapidly darkening evening.

I don't think we're going to hell for this, but after my two recent explorations of the poverty of 3rd world countries (seeing Slumdog Millionaire and reading What is the What), food and how lucky we are to have it is right there at the top of my consciousness.

All in all, I'll give the weekend 4 stars, but I need to go volunteer at the Food Bank to work off the karma.

Assaulted by Girl Scouts

Walking out of Publix with a couple bags of groceries, I was literally rendered speechless by a pair of uniformless Girl Scouts who were in my face like Mike Tyson screaming at me to buy cookies. "Screaming" is so not an exaggeration, my friends. My ears felt like I'd been at an acid rock concert for a few hours.

They continued to follow me as I tried to smile at them and muster a quiet "no thanks" and make an escape. One of them, with a most obnoxiously contorted facial expression said, "How can you refuse to buy from such cute little girls?" (Can I be a big meanie and say that with that demeanor, she was hardly cute?) I almost said, "Just like this," as I finally made it free.

Now let me just say that I am a big fan of the Girl Scouts. I love the entrepreneurial spirit instilled in them and the very important character and confidence building activities they are engaged in through the program. But how about some sales training? This was over the top and had I been in the mood to purchase a 500 calorie per cookie box of Girl Scout delights, this approach would have certainly dissuaded me.

Watch out people....they're aggressive this year!

Crazy Facebook "Groups"

I hate to keep going back to Facebook, but there are quite a few remarkably entertaining things about it that I would be remiss as a good Gropius blogger in failing to mention.

The array of Facebook "Groups" is growing every day. You find the groups by observing what your friends have joined, by searching Facebook, or by accident (most cases, I suspect). For the most part, they are meaningless. Not much happens after you join them.

My two favorite groups to date (exclusively based on their concepts) are:

I Don't Care How Comfortable Your Crocs Are, You Look Like a Dumbass

People Against the Remake of "The Karate Kid" (When you click on this one to learn more, it says, "Sorry, this group isn't available right now.... Must be an exclusive "invitation only" group.)

It just doesn't get better than this, folks. Any other good Facebook Groups I've missed out on?

The Reader in Me

Yep, I love to read. Instead of coming home from work, doing more work and doing more work, I've decided to take a hiatus from nonfiction business and nature books and save a little bit of quiet space to dig into some great stories.

For the past few years, I've been on a quest to go back to a few literary classics I didn't choose on my high school and college reading lists. (I couldn't get to them ALL.) And I've actually found Oprah's Book Club selections to be quite fulfilling. You can't underestimate the power of anything by Toni Morrison or Carson McCullers. And there are so many great stand-alones, like Watership Down and Icy Sparks.

Most recently, I completed What is the What by Dave Eggers, the incredible story of Valentino Achak Denga, a Sudanese refugee who was displaced from his family during the civil war. As one of the "Lost Boys," he literally walked across Sudan to Ethiopia and Kenya searching for food, safety and a temporary home. The story brought me closer than I could imagine to the plight of so many young children who have been made to fight as soldiers, who have seen their friends picked off by lions in the night and who struggle to survive each day despite unbelievable odds.

What are you reading these days? In a recent experiement on Facebook for what I should read next, the most common recommendation was The Kite Runner. Other reported greats: Memoirs of a Geisha, Catcher in the Rye (of course!), and Christopher Moore picks.

Do home improvements really take time?

I can be too impatient at times, but do home improvements like new cabinets (and basically an entirely new kitchen) really take more than one day? We live in a small, adorable house that I love, but since it was built in the mid 50's, it could use a few changes. Honestly, should more than one afternoon be involved? I just can't deal with the mess--or even the thought of it.

Here are some occasionally hilarious home quirks that we accepted when we bought our house:

Quirk A: No dishwasher. It would be easy enough to add one (especially since husband is also married to EcoLab), but that would involve an entire kitchen redo to make the space for it. After 4 years of enjoying our humble abode, I announced today that I'm ready to tear the wall out, start the project, and finish it...by this afternoon...complete with new cabinets and countertops. I'm told that it's not possible.

Quirk B: The washer and dryer are actually in our second bathroom. That's right folks, I could sit on the toilet and fold clothes (but do not, I swear it).

Quirk C: No molding. I need molding. Maybe that's what we can do today. That's a one day project, right?

A new roof, air conditioner, great yard & other perks and personality add to the reasons I love our home. I guess if we want to keep sane in the long-run, I'll have to grow a little patience and get crafty and creative. After all, these days, I'm pretty grateful to have a place to live.

Comedic movie relief from my elders

Today, I joined two local goddesses to see The Reader, a complex drama which promises to fill any viewer with disturbing questions of morality and the sadness of lives deeply impacted by passion, shame, secrets and circumstance. Comedic relief is important if you are to make it out of the theatre without losing 80% of your hydration through tears. The two old ladies beside the three of us offered some assistance.

During the first sequence of "sex scenes" the old woman beside me loudly said, "I didn't sign up for THIS."

(SIDE STORY: This reminded me of the time when my very Southern grandmother took my brother and I to see Dirty Dancing while my parents attended a high school reunion. She was outraged, and on several ocassions announced "If there is one more suggestive scene, we are leaving the theater.")

Our old women friends hung on, and I am grateful for that. During the final scene, just before the screen went black and the credits appeared, the faucet of my tear ducts fully opened. When Bernhard Schlink's novel was recognized (the basis of the film), my movie neighbor responded with conviction, sauciness and severe disgust: "Well I won't be reading that book."

It's been a while since I've laughed my ass off while crying. It may have prevented major depression from setting in. Sadness aside, I highly recommend The Reader. Just come with some funny old ladies. (P.S.... Uncommon Blonde, did Betty see The Reader today?)