Mind the gap.

Remember the North Ridge earthquake in San Francisco on the day of the world series? There was footage they played over and over on the news of someone driving along the top deck of the Bay Bridge (at least I think that's the one) which is a double-decker and an entire section of the roadway had falled into the bay, yet the driver seemed to accelerate as they approached the gap, with dire results. Mind you, the gap was not enormous, but you'd need a seriously souped-up machine to span a gap that was at least two car lengths with no ramping up before the dropoff. And you'd need to be an ace behind the wheel, besides.

I've always wondered about that person, though.
Did they see the gap and think, "oh, I can make it if I drive really fast" or were they so freaked out and distracted by the earthquake that they didn't see the gap ahead? Perhaps they were fumbling with their cell phone. Or maybe they were distracted and looking up at the news helicopter that was filming a section of the bridge with no one on it. Hmm. Empty bridge in a town where it typically takes 1 hour fighting traffic to go five miles. This might be a sign...

This is a cautionary tale for us all, perhaps: if you see a news helicopter filming something in the road ahead, you may want to proceed with extreme caution. I'm just sayin'...

Wow, this is so cool I had to post it.

Yesterday in typical sunspot flare-up fashion, our universe's gooey warm center burped out a big ropey loop of molten product bigger than a cluster of planets our size. You can click on this link to get to a page where you can find a link with moving images of the flare, or listen to audio of the radiation storm interfering with radio waves. That's hot!

Wow. I'm amazed. I read the first 400 pages of Lonesome Dove from October 5 through last Sunday, and then I read the last 540-ish pages in the last 3 days. Incredible. NOW I'm ready to see the cinematic version of it, at last.

I'm not uptight about spoilers, but I know some other folks might be. So I'm going to put the names in white and you can highlight them to see the names if you so choose.

I can't believe Larry McMurtry killed Gus.

I'm in total shock that we don't find out what was in the letter from Gus to Lorena.

Then again, I know there's at least one sequel.

I cried when they buried Deets, and I cried for about the last 3 pages. I never cry. It takes a lot to make me cry. Crying when reading a book? Well, that's the second time this year, and I've read a lot of books until I hit upon this one.

I can't believe July Johnson is such a dim-witted dullard. I disliked his wife and I'm not sorry that she got massacred.

At first I thought Gus was a diarrhea-of-the-mouth, no-account layabout, and eventually I found him to be so incredibly competent, capable and just plain old ALL MAN that he grew heroic in my eyes.

That was perhaps the greatest surprise to me in this novel, finding out the strong, silent guy was just piling grief on his own misery and unwittingly avoiding the most noble thing he could have done while the jabbering (seeming) dimwit was the very portrait heroism and rugged individuality.

Blue Duck was a mean mo-fo - I suppose there were people around that were that cunning, ruthless and evil. After all, they're around today, too, aren't they?

I was sick of the word poke used to refer to sexual intercourse by about page 7 of 944.

Incredibly good book.

Well, THAT was fun!

I just wanted the chance to slap around a bony, addle-witted broad. Actually, I always wanted to live in England, if only for a little while. It's so great when you can go into a structure and see where it was built in sections from the Norman period forward. You have so much more a sense of being part of a continuum when everything around you wasn't just built in your own lifetime.

I always thought I'd get a chance to live in England, but I suppose that ship has left the station.

As for living in Texas, I hate the heat and there's waaaay too much sun for my taste, but I really like the people here.

I was waxing so gushmatic after the Imogen Heap episode that I didn't talk about how Austin has changed in the several years since I've been there.

To bring you up to speed - didja see that movie "Slacker" about 14 or 15 years ago? Yeah, that one. Well, that very much conveyed the typical neo-hippie hang-arounder one would always see in Austin at that time. They're still there, somewhere, no doubt. However, that place has slicked-up proper, and frankly is looking more Dallasesque all the time, in my opinion, to their detriment. Texas already has a Dallas, you poser copycats!

Funny thing was there was a bumper-sticker trend in Austin for quite some time that said "Keep Austin Weird." In response, a group of Dallas' own eccentrics formed a group called "Keep Dallas Plastic" and they are a little kooky. I've never spent any time reading their site or anything, but I appreciate the off-the-chart nutty factor. Actually, what's funny is that they seem sorta activist and whole-grain-ish and probably more than a few of their women sport armpit hair you could braid and bead. Probably no deodorant, no hair products. Probably not much plastic.



What is this hippy business doing in the land of Aquanet? How can one live in Texas yet eschew the ladies' prime directive of big hair? Remember what Danny from Withnail and I said:

DANNY: All hairdressers are in the employment of the government. hair are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos and transmit them directly into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight.

WITHNAIL: What absolute twaddle!

Everyday is a good day for a Withnail quote.

Anyway, above is a picture of some big-haired gals of yore.

The other picture, well, it's a picture from a medical scrubs uniform company, but I just had to share it with you. Came across this on the web today, and I thought "why is she tweaking his nipple - that doesn't seem very professional? I guess everyone is nasty these days." Turns out, she's holding a stethoscope that has gone into stealth mode in that technicolor yawn pattern on his shirt. Sheesh. Enjoy!

...and from the backpedaling department of the home office, Gwyneth Paltrow took pains Monday to release a statement saying how proud she is to be an Amercian and that her comments had been misconboobulated when printed in a Portuguese paper. She said she needed to take a refresher course on 7th grade Spanish. I suppose that would help, except that they speak Portuguese in Portugal. Yeah, I know it's remotely related, but it ain't the same thing. Maybe that's how they misquoted her - she was speaking another language. She should stick to English, and scripted English, at that.

She should have pulled a Michael Richards and blamed our government's unpreparedness for Katrina. I'm just sayin'...

I read hundreds of pages of Lonesome Dove today. Love that book, love the characters, I'm even kinda diggin' on cowboys now. Kinda. Good reading. Larry McMurty: cool guy.

I know a guy in his late 70s who went into a book store in the 50s or someways along in there and there was a youngish author sitting at a table peddling his books with free autograph. He said he felt sorry for the guy because people walked by and didn't bat an eyelash, effectually staying away in droves. He bought several copies.

Turns out this new author was Larry McMurtry and these were the first prints, first editions of his first book. They're worth oodles of money now. Good for him, and good for Larry. I wonder if he sat there that day and thought people would just never get his writing...

And now, for something dead-serious:

This post over at Tam's View from the Porch should be required reading. It'll just take a minute, but it points out something so fundamental that I wonder how anyone can be conflicted over the issue.

OK, it's been a while since I've drawn a picture for you sexy, sexy people.

Word is that Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock have slipped the bonds of matrimony. They had like 3 weddings, so shouldn't they have to get divorced 3 times?

Anyway. Pamela Anderson, appearing as herself, was a willing participant in the film "Borat" in which she was stuffed into a canvas bag and absconded with. Allegedly, Kid Rock saw the film and became enraged at her participation in such exploitative crap.

Um, hello? This is not new for Ms. Anderson - ever hear of Barb Wire? I watched that movie as soon as it came out on video hoping to get a few laughs, and it disappointed even on that score. Anyway, for Kid Rock to act like he got some mis-represented bill of goods seems a bit obtuse.

Celebrity gossip... where to next? Hmmm...

How about something a little closer to home?

A relative by marriage is related to Blythe Danner. When Gwyneth Paltrow started to become very successful as an actress, my relative's kid sibling -- about 11 at the time -- told schoolmates they were second cousin to G.P., but naturally the kids at school acted like it was baloney. So this little kid wrote Blythe and asked for an autographed picture of GP, and instead came an autographed photo of Brad Pitt, whom GP was dating at the time. Brad's name was signed along with the chummy greeting "hey cuz."

Not long afterward, either by phone call or letter, Blythe contacted ranking family members and laid down the law that no one in the family was to seek autographs from them or ply them for celebrity fodder or to give their contact information out to anyone.

Wow. Some little 11 year old kid-- a blood relation-- being impressed with something you've done makes you hounded and harrassed? Ok. Whatever.

So now GP is in the news for saying Brits are more intelligent and civilized than Americans. Well, I think she had such an insular existence in the USA (upper crust NYC crowd, finishing school, film industry, & sundry other of/by/for the wealthy/celebrity) that I don't think she would know how the average American converses, especially since she wouldn't learn that kind of dialogue in a film script.

Another point - tell me in which country she claims to live predominantly for tax purposes? Why do many Irish/British celebrities declare US residency? I'm so glad you asked. They do so to benefit from not paying taxes to an outrageously confiscatory system of taxation that bludgeons the bounty of creativity to fill the capacious cup of the governmental teat onto which almost everyone else is latched. [Ours is bad enough, but if THAT is civilization, I'll say no thanks and hold onto my firing iron while I'm at it. Call me a cavewoman.] The irony of U2 frontman Bono telling the USA to forgive third-world debt, yet divesting of homes in Ireland in order to avoid paying his fair share of their taxes is simply too much hypocrisy to be endured. If the USA sucks so hard, why are people still trying to get here? But this has turned into a rabbit-chase, hasn't it?

I find Brits in general to be brilliant conversationlists. Wry wit has ever been an earmark of the English psyche, whereas most Americans are born without an irony chip, and our popular culture often reflects that. The truth is we are very different cultures and the dewy-eyed optimism that seems typical of the American spirit can often be mis-read as naive gullibility.

The irony is that the same insular existence that kept Gwyn away from the great unwashed in the USA guarantees that she'll never interact with the intellectual giants that routinely maim and kill random strangers at English football events, the famed hooligans for whom foreign governments have watch lists on mass transit to prevent their entry into their countries during World Cup Soccer play. There must be more than a few addle-witted British brutes who could go toe-to-toe in the dim-olympics with any sorority girl or chicken de-beaker the USA could churn out.

Also, Gwyn was obviously preaching to the choir: living in England half the year, I'm sure it's satisfying to say complimentary things to the home crowd. However, probably lots of folks back here will be none too pleased with another American with diarrhea of the mouth overseas. I'm guessing she would like to sell a movie ticket here again in future.

SO, to summarize: for Gwyneth Paltrow to make an indelicate statement on what the average American is like makes as much sense as saying you understand all there is to know about American society and politics from a Michael Moore film. Not a full picture, babe. You're gonna catch hell for this one, not entirely underserved.

So just put your feet up, sit back, and I'll be back here with the popcorn in just about 4 minutes. This is gonna be a good one.

My first snowflake photos. I told you I went bananas with the camera yesterday. Loved it. I feel happiest in nasty weather. I can't explain it, but the sun makes me grouchy. Today it was cool but sunny, but I kept wishing someone would flip on the dimmer switch...

You ought to mosey over to see the post kees has up on her blog with a couple youtube links to video of a pair of superb Mexican guitarists she saw perform in London last week - great stuff!

Thomas Dolby will be in Dallas next week and I'm thinking it over very carefully - The Flat Earth and Aliens Ate My Buick and Retrospectacle have all been albums in heavy rotation for me at one time or another. He's written and produced lots of music you never knew he was involved in, like keyboards in Foreigner's Urgent and Waiting for a Girl like You and too much other stuff to name.

He founded Headspace which would become Beatnik in the early 90s which was a high tech company that worked on developing polyphonic ringtone stuff. Anyway, in a world where so many people realize enormous, outrageous success and popularity at a very young age, only to ride out the rest of their lives on the pitifully downhill slide, Thomas certainly hasn't rested on his laurels.

Good for him. I think I won't be able to resist the temptation to go. But I'm not taking him any jewelry. I promise.

OK, swans have got to be one of the most overly-photographed, clichéd things a new camera enthusiast could obsess over, but when the blustery winter weather hit today, I HAD to run out with my camera and get some snaps. I don't have a program on the pc where I can really mess around with and give alternate realities of images yet, but suffice to say that I'd like to give the water a chrome-like effect. I'll get there...

These swans were total hams, making like hogs for the camera. Rudely, for their all their comely posing, I offered nary a crumb of bread in exchange. Tomorrow I'll probably pick some up for them and run it by - don't want them to become aloof to the siren call of budding photographers in future, do we?

I wish we had more of a proper winter like this more of the time. I know Dallasites can't drive for beans on ice-slicked roadways, but the cold weather is nice and good weather to curl up with a good book. Doglet is my little furry hot-water-bottle, so who could ask for more? Tonight was the first time in the evening I've had a chance to read other than right at bed time. I pulled it over by the fire and hunkered down in my favorite $10 Thirft Town green velvet 1970s thunder-pimp chair and read a goodly bit of Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry. I haven't had much time for reading in recent months, but I've been stringing this one out for about 6 weeks so far, and I'm only about 269 pages in - it's so beautifully written and such a brilliant character study that this is truly one to savor.

There was an incredible line I'll share with you. This is sometime after the Civil War and in the absence of the sheriff, the deputy in Fort Smith (Arkansas), Roscoe, is being harrassed by a couple of pushy busybody citizens demanding he take action. Mr. McMurtry writes:

That was such a radical thought that merely trying to think it gave Roscoe the beginnings of a headache.

I found that passage particularly delicious, as I often feel that other people are giving me the beginnings of a headache!

I'll post some more pictures tomorrow. Stay bundled up and warm, folks!

Click here to read a Dallas Morning News story on Thanksgiving Dinner at the Texas Embassy Cantina in London. Thom Jackson, general manager, was my neighbor at Railroad Studios lofts in Dallas for about 5 years - great guy. Also, the Texas Embassy makes the best margarita I ever had in England and they make great authentic Tex-Mex food with fresh ingredients. Very good salsa.

I went to have my teeth cleaned on Monday, which is always very nice. The exam room features a floor-to-ceiling window and looks out onto the parking area and lots of trees. In a small tree outside the window, they have hung a couple bird feeders and it's always fun to see them. When I went in, I took my camera and snapped a photo for Dallas Diorama. The doctor said I needed to put a bird in the photo as there were none when I snapped it, and I said "yes, I think I'll photoshop a bird into the image, something exotic. Perhaps a macaw." He said that actually, they'd had quite a few small parakeets and other birds that had to be pets (or escapees) come and feed there, and that once he'd seen a very large and obviously very tropical bird chowing down. I said then that decided it: I would photoshop in feral canaries. I said that the pivotal moment in western civilization would be us coming up with the feral canary concept. People will remember where they were when they first heard of feral canaries and will order the memories of their life events by feral-canary-era and pre-feral-canary-era.

See. Aren't you glad you never have to meet me in person?

Oh, I confronted someone today, and they turned out to be the wife of a sports superstar (she didn't tell me - I looked her up online afterward). I'm glad I didn't parse my harangue in the potty language I was longing to set afoot (as her lawyer budget may be slightly higher than my own), but I'm still glad I griped at her - it was the right thing to do. And there's more where that came from.

New piece of jewelry I made last night. I've finally set up a jewelry blog so I don't have to bore everyone over here with my jewelry obsession. It's over at the link just below Dallas Diorama at the left.

I've got to go out soon with my camera and snap pics of the Christmas lights. Tonight I felt like driving and just tooled up the tollway and saw some splendid lights.

I saw some spectacular lights in Austin Saturday night, but alas, did not have my camera along.

Niece and nephew are coming over Friday night and we will decorate the Christmas tree. I'll post photos, because you're going to love it - it's a little odd, but very cool...

"Three Thing" MeMe
I was tagged by Kim over at Something To Say with "Three Thing MeMe".

Three things that scare me:
* Sudden loud unexpected noises - being startled usually results in me emitting a bark like that of a small dog - it's embarrassing, but what can I do? People should't scare the wound-up lady
* The loss of freedom and personal rights
* Out-of-control bureaucracy

Three people who make me laugh:
* Tam - View from the Porch
* Erin - the immaculate equestrian and fellow hypomaniac
* Dick & Kelly - OK - I know they make 4, but consider them an entity since they're a couple

Three things I love:
* Music - any style as long as it's good music
* Color
* Making funky jewelry

Three things I hate:
* Out-of-control bureaucracy (yup, this one's so big I had to bring it up again)
* Smug people who sit around judging other people, especially the ones who feel self satisfied and make a big production of saying who is "going to hell."
* (This group overlaps the last one) People who use threats of hell and Armageddon to try to terrify other people into making professions of faith, rather than trusting there is any intellectual reason to make that profession of faith. Yup, I hate that - it annoys the shit out of me, actually.

Three things I don't understand:
* Why more people haven't bothered to read that wee little book "The Prince" by Machiavelli, which is a roadmap for dominating people on a mass scale - then they'd understand how they are manipulated by all "leaders." I'm not suggesting anarchy is a good ideer, but people need to know that "their guy" and "their party" in D.C. is not on their side - they are there for themselves alone. That's how it works. No one in that town is "for the people." We exist for them. Or, at least, all the rest of you do. Except for that bit about a third of my income...*ahem*
* Bullies
* Not flossing - gosh - how do people stand their own bad breath? I can go a few days without flossing, but over time, I feel like my teeth are furry. My braces just about did me in because they made flossing nigh to impossible.

Three things on my desk:
* Dad's 1st place horseshoe trophy from this year's country fair
* A container of little yellow birds
* my Canon Rebel XT

Three things I'm doing right now:
* Let the doglet out once more
* go to bed and read
* go to sleep

Three things I want to do before I die:
* See my wonderful niece grow up to have the independence to pursue her dreams in life (right now it's to be a veterinarian) and to see her happy
* Same for my nephew, only he'll probably invent some new form of music, if he keeps going in the same direction - he's quite the little composer at a ripe old 4 years
* Maybe learn to ride horses, something like that

Three things I can do:
* Stay up all night and sleep all day
* needle-woven beadwork with teeny-tiny beads and no glasses on
* I can cook rather well.

Three things I can't do:
* father a child
* I can't seem to have fewer than 3 purses sitting around the house at one time
* willingly stay in a place with bad music - it depresses me and gives me the twitchy urge to run to the stage and show them how it's done

Three things you should listen to:
* Your parents - even if you will ignore their advice, you should at least consider it. That way it's not a surprise later on when they say they told you so
* Villa-Lobos' divine harmonica concerto. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
* your intuition

Three things you should never listen to:
* Fanatics (unless they are an Imogen Heap fanatic - those people are all right!)
* negative people who look for the dark cloud above every silver lining
* politicians

Three things I'd like to learn:
* html
* chemical processes behind the miracle of cookery
* to be a better seamstress

Three favourite foods:
* My mom's chicken croquettes
* My Grandma Bertie's buttermilk biscuits and gravy
* My Grandma Smith's everything - how did she make plain old green beans taste like a symphony? What a woman!

Three beverages I drink regularly:
* water
* unsweetened iced tea with no lemon - like I like my men: bitter
* bucks' almond steamer with whipped cream

Three TV shows/Books I watched/read as a kid:
* Beverly Hillbillies (was watching them when I found out Elvis died)
* Sanford & Son - I learned alot about decorating from Redd Foxx
* Nancy Drew series - the books, never the tv show

Three blogger friends that I am going to tag:
Meg (when you get time, when your show is over) at Not a Woman of Few Words
HollyB over at Holly's Histrionics
Tony at Blah Blah Blog
OR... Your Name Here.

[There are some superb photos of Immi's Dallas show over here ]

Saturday I awoke still giddy from the glory that was Imogen Heap's sublime concert in Dallas the night before. I got out of bed, all toasty-holiday-happy, and got on the computer. I blogged a mile-long entry about that show, and then I looked on her tour roster on her MySpace page. Hmm. Austin Saturday night. It's not that far - just about 200 miles exactly from my front door to downtown Austin... Hmm.

I looked online and saw I could have flown down for $111, which is not so bad, but then would have been the car-hiring and I would have had to remain in Austin until 8AM. Hmm. I like the book I'm reading, but not that much. Plus, I hate flying. Anyway. I went to the site for La Zona Rosa and found there were still tickets left, and for a mere $27 I could have one of my very own. I decided to buy the ticket before I made up my mind to go, entirely. I thought at least my options were open that way.

I asked brother-in-law if it made me weird, retarded and stalkerish if I went to see her in Austin. He said no, that I would be a stalker if I went to Phoenix to see her. In comments, someone this weekend has called me a groupie and another comment called me a dead-head. Fair enough! I'm laughing at that.

Then I realized that all this time I've been craving a weekend in just pajamas, what I've really needed was a dose of spontenaity. I decided to go and got all gussied up. I decided I would rock the dress-over-jeans look that is so bohemian and so right-now, and I wore a red & white Indian frock with embroidery around the neckline. I asked husband if I looked like George and Ringo in their Ashram phase, did I look like a guru? He assured me I didn't. I wore heels, though not spike and not sandals. I had zippers on my jacket pockets and carried everything I needed in my pockets so no bag was necessary - here's to simplicity.

I loaded up the car with tunes and a bottle of water and an iced tea, gassed up and was on the road before 5pm. Showtime was 9. The drive down was pleasant, and I listened to The Eraser, Thom Yorke's [Radiohead] cd which came out & I bought in July, but just peeled the plastic off a week ago. I never changed the cd - this one floors me and I recommend it highly. More on that another time.

The last time I went to La Zona Rosa was 14 years ago and then it was a Mexican Restaurant. Now it's opened out into a warehouse area that is the central concert venue in the back, basically a huge metal shed. Austin was warm, too. People were at the concert in shorts and sandals. At one point, I saw water misters spraying over the shed area. Indoors. Great. I could feel my hair sucking it up and curling for its very life. I was destined to be a white girl guru with an afro. By the time I arrived, the capacity 1200 venue was sold out, and I was relieved I bothered to buy my ticket online. People were hanging out in front trying to buy tickets off other people. Too bad I didn't buy 2 tickets and make some of my money back for the trip.

Levi Weaver played again but was plagued with technical difficulties and didn't do the Radiohead cover this time. Then came Kid Beyond, a beatbox guy who did some amazing stuff with digital looping. A lot of the crowd was there specifically to see him, and they went wild for his stuff.

Since this venue was standing room only, the vibe was completely different from the more manicured and refined Dallas setting of McFarlin Auditorium. Imogen seemed to enjoy both shows equally, but I think she very much was buoyed by the energy of Austin's large audience dancing along with her to her superb music rather than sitting politely. It was incredible. I'm so glad I went, but next time I'm buying a couple bottles of water and bulldozing my way up to the edge of the stage early, rather than trawling around for little nooks to see beyond the tall people convention.

I talked again to the girl at the merchandise table and she asked me to come back and talk to her some more when people weren't at the table. At some point when Kid Beyond was playing, I came back to her and the photographer Ryan Obermeyer was there. We had a conversation and I got to view close-up the wondrous engineering marvel of his black feather mohawk. I asked if he ever slept in the feathers, because it would be a shame to wake up with wonky feathers, and he said he had and that it did make them wonky. He was very interesting, funny and charming and wearing a pair of pin-striped white baseball pants. I like someone with more fashion guts than I have, and he had them in spades. Then again, someone with a mohawk is never saying "don't look at me." He asked me if I was familiar with local hotels, and I said the only one I'd stayed in was the nearby Hilton, but laughingly said that I have a moral outrage about sending money to Paris' family these days. Nice guy. I asked him how he came to work with Imogen and he told me that story. I expected someone like him would be aloof and inaccessible, and I find he quite the opposite - he's a nice guy. Ryan's also a brilliant artist.

Immi's set seemed identical to Friday night's except that she had no difficulty with the equipment this time. As a result of the more seamless transitions between songs, there were not so many little moments of chattiness from the prior evening, which seemed to make the experience warmer rather than uncomfortable. Friday night it almost seemed as if she might return from her computer with a tray of teacups and cookies for everyone.

The Dallas audience was more average-to-high-style and freshly scrubbed, whereas there seemed a much greater cross-section of Austin humanity in attendance Saturday night. There were quite a few Suicide-Girl types, loads of people with facial hardware, and--inexplicably--there were loads of little sorority girl types. This show had more older people than the Dallas show, and I didn't feel such an antiquity then. People in Austin seem more apt to have their own style aesthetic, and for people-watching, this was probably the best show I've ever seen, other than any show by The Cramps. I'm still baffled by the idea of people wearing strappy spike-heeled sandals to a show where they are mashed up in a huge crowd of people. I'll bet there were toe injuries, is all I'm sayin'. Yes, this should carbon-date me as having punk-rock-era street cred.

Having talked to the lovely girl at the merchandise table over time, I felt pretty comfortable with her. Before I even bought the Austin ticket, I knew from the previous night that it was extremely unlikely there would be a chance to meet Imogen, so I'd sort of let go of that aspiration altogether. Imogen began her final song at midnight, and a 3-hour drive home lay ahead of me. I knew if I waited to try and meet Imogen again, it would probably be 1:00 or 1:30 before I even got out of town, so I asked the merch table girl if she'd give the necklace to Immi for me. I had my business card in the little drawstring pouch with the necklace, with a little note of thanks for the music written on it, and I handed it over. I hope she gets it, and I hope she likes it, but there it is. I made a nice gesture, and it goes where it goes.

I'm so glad I got to see both shows, I'm feeling rejuvenated, and now I'm ready to make some more jewelry. Tra-la-la!