I'm bored.

Here's what I've already done today: napped, exercised, showered, began the laundry, read, watched a bit of tv, organized recycling, played with Filo, changed sheets/made bed

Here's what I should do: work on my course homepages, review chapters/lectures for next week, write a quiz, trim Filo's ears, eat a sensible dinner, avoid bugging G. (who is quietly doing his work like a super student), fold and put away laundry, iron

Here's what I want to do: Order pizza (current fav is Pizza Hut's More-4-All), have a scotch and soda, politely avoid Filo (who is getting stinkier by the minute), watch a movie, play Scattergories, lay about and talk about nonesense with G.

Here's what I probably will do: Check blogs (the ones I don't read regularly, but still hold some interest in), read New York Times movie reivews, search online for My Perfect Summer Sandal (currently Bandolino's Flavian model), consider organizing the closet, fold (but not put away) laundry, poke about in the kitchen rather than make a full meal, sigh a lot

The System, meet The Regimen

Everybody can breathe a sigh of relief. The dentist's visit actually went well!! I am so surprised and (honestly) fucking relieved.

I managed to preserve my sanity by not predicting how many horrible, expensive procedures the dentist would demand (except for about 20 minutes the night before). I'm not completely off the hook concerning my teeth. My dentist introduced me to a strict Regimen. The Regimen includes: flossing all teeth (takes me a long time and I really only do the back teeth); Stim-u-dent the front teeth (Stim-u-dents are glorified toothpicks); brush with Sonicare (2 minutes); rinse with hydrogen peroxide (a gross soapy and fizzy 30 seconds, although not so bad if you mix with Listerine); use Microjet (plastic syringe type contraption) to shoot peroxide towards the wisdom molars and gumline. Last night, the Regimen took me 10 minutes (G. contests this estimate, but this isn't his blog, so boo).

The Regimen is a bit of a drag, to be honest. But I can (grudgingly) admit that it's better than having more serious dental problems down the road. The Regimen is definitely, infinitely better than having to fork over $2,000 for dental work.

So, loyal readers, learn from me! Don't dwell and stress about stuff that might or might not happen (in other words, before freaking out, wait for the end of the story.) And take care of your teeth, dammnit! Avoid sweets and soda!

Yeah, as for that last piece of advice...G. and I celebrated my news by consuming a big ol' piece of chocolate cake.

"And you with youth on your side..."

I was talking to a student today who was wearing bright blue eyeshadow and vibrant pink highlights. Ah, to be a teenager...

I took a big step towards emotional adulthood today (and far away from teenager-land). I made an appointment with the dentist. I hate going to the dentist because in all of my 27 years, a dentist's visit has brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. There is always bad news. The most recent bad experience (almost a year ago) with the dentist included two root canals. Root canals are horrible procedures no matter what, but these root canals were even more evil because I paid the full cost for them. I have no dental insurance, hell, I have insurance to speak of (it keeps me up at night, I just know an errant tennis ball will do me in), so I paid, I paid big.

Calling up the dentist shouldn't be scary (duh), but with this kind of history and my penchant for drama, I put it off. I endure G.'s nagging and the uneasy sensitivity of a tooth in a childish attempt to escape the reality of a dentist's visit. So calling for an appointment so soon after feeling something is a big step for me. And as if that wasn't grown-up enough, I am not going to obsess with what might happen at the dentist, I'm not going to moan and groan about paying for another root canal before even stepping foot in the office itself because that type of stinkin' thinkin' only causes unnecessary stress and upset. Hm, excuse me while I pat myself on the back.

The Seven's

After much thought, I've finally compiled my seven's list, in no particular order. Thanks, Big Brown Girl, for the invite.

Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die:

1. Write a novel
2. Be fluent in Spanish
3. Visit Japan
4. Cook without recipies
5. Learn how to crochet (without directions)
6. Go to a World Cup
7. Work at a super job

Seven Things I Can Do:

1. Pick out good gifts
2. Last minute crafting
3. Write a damn good research paper
4. Organize stuff
5. Take a stain out
6. Avoid a sink full of dishes
7. Dance!

Seven Things I Can't Do:

1. Pass up chocolate, cake, pizza
2. Change oil/tire
3. Tell time without a watch
4. Real push-ups
5. Finish crossword puzzles
6. Make a pot of coffee
7. Sing

Seven Things That Attract Me to Another Person

1. Boyish charm
2. Sense of humor
3. Capable of empathy
4. Can appreciate the Rockford Files
5. Good speller
6. Loyalty
7. Doesn't mind when I'm flighty

Seven Things I Say Most Often

1. Hopefully
2. I don't know
3. Jesus Christ
4. Silly-mena-Filly-mena
5. Goddamnit
6. Fucker (mostly muttered while in the car)
7. Ay de mi

Seven People To Do This Little Blogger Game

1. G.
2. Nurse Ratchett
3. Joel's Blog
4. Danny
5. Sarah
6. Uh...I ran out of people.

Uh-oh. It's one of those nights where I would love to be asleep, but can't manage to block out the million things running through my head. Today I was in total denial that classes are starting Tuesday. Spent much of the day watching bits of the Isaac show on Style, some soccer, Ice Diaries on TLC (follows four ice skaters--I'm as much mesmerized by their dedication to the sport as by their yicky outfits), and the AKC National Championships where I totally teared up when they highlighted special dogs--ohmigod! I saw commercials for Puppy Bowl II on Animal Planet. I found a sneak peek video clip on the website and the concept seems to be pups playing and wrasslin' and all sorts of mischief (and if you don't like dogs, there's a Kitty Half Time Show). Strangely very watchable in its utter innocence and fun (reminds me of a recent visit to Guitar Center), although I feel vaguely like Seinfeld's Elaine when she stares at a tire (she's getting dumber as George gets smarter 'cause he's not having sex). I know what my TV will be tuned to come Superbowl Sunday.

As for more Sunday highlights, I experienced the (most recent) nap-to-end-all-naps and set up my new desk lamp.

The party is pretty much over for me, however much I try to forget what day it is. In the flurry of productivity that ensues, I hope this blog doesn't fall through the cracks. I had such, gee I don't know, high aspirations (??) when I started Ness and Filomena. I should spend more time on making my entries __________ (pick one: witty, inspirational, poetic, thought-provoking, sexy, political--even the most basic "interesting). Maybe I could just muster enough effort to add good links to the new template...I'm trying to determine what I want from the blog and not totally sure I really want anything from it. The initial idea was to start writing on a regular basis bits and pieces of how I experience and view my life and also throw in pictures of my undeniably precious Filomena because she's just so darn cute.

This question of purpose has plagued me since I read an article on women bloggers in January's Glamour. The article first asks, "Women who blog?: Are they self-absorbed exhibitionists? Groovy free spirits? Or just plain bored? Meet them and decide for yourself." According to Mark Crispin Miller, professor of culture and communication at NYU (a male perspective on women bloggers, hmm), "There is something going on where we must always be on display--it's the rise of the look-at-me culture." The author (non-blogger perspective on bloggers, hmm)agrees with Miller: "Blogging, it seems, is the reality TV for the deskbound crowd." Oh, really???? So my blog persona is akin to a cyber-Simple Life? God, I hope not.

I don't see myself as deskbound (which sounds so darn pathetic, no?), a self-absorbed exhibitionist, groovy free spirit, or (to sum the profiled bloggers "identities") someone who overshares, blogged during a honeymoon, performs for her readers, or has gotten in work-trouble for my blog. PLUS, it doesn't feel right to agree with the assertion that my blog is an attempt to be "on display/look at me", and if it were, considering my low readership, I'm failing miserably. Only one profiled blogger who was remotely relatable reportedly initially talked about body issues and, it turns out, writes for an awesome magazine, Bust.

I don't know what I expected; the article is published in Glamour, for chrissake.

I recently read an essay arguing that young people have adopted the language and identities of the Real World. G. used to hate Seinfeld because he felt that people tried to emulate the show (ex. yada, yada, yada)(one of my favorite Family Guy episodes is where Peter has a pool party for dictators and Qadaffi says he loves Seinfeld because it reminds him of his friends. Classic). Anyway, the point is maybe I have absorbed elements of pop culture that emphasize self-classification--maybe the blog is a way to work out if I'm a Mary/Rhoda, Carrie/the other ones, (sigh) deskridden or whatever. That's a part of it, but my blog also comes out of the opportunity/novelty of publishing thoughts and have them read by anybody who happens to stumble upon them. I don't pretend my voice should or ever will be the authority on something, so why feel pressured to be identifiable?

I think I might be going in circles. It's late, too, sleep might have finally come.

Pupdate: What's Up with Filo?

She learned how to smoke a (rawhide) pipe and drive. Wow.

Our New Mexico Adventure

I-25 to Las Vegas, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by NessandFilo.

G. and I had a great time driving through northern New Mexico. We gained an appreciation for the scenery and small towns while living in Albuquerque. Northern New Mexico feels peaceful and quiet; the weather is cool, there are mountains and plains (sometimes not quite green, especially in drought). I can't describe it. You can easily find much more poetic descriptions of New Mexico (don't get me started on Santa Fe) and a lot of it sounds too tourist-y to be true. All I can say is that there is definitely something intriguing about this region.

I haven't blogged or even checked my email since returning from our New Mexico adventure. I think my inactivity is a result of avoiding my desk the entire week. Why avoid the desk, you ask? Simple, it's my last week of vacation and I had work waiting for me. This week, I had three meetings to attend on campus, mostly related to a student's grade appeal and I was supposed to work on lectures and review the textbook. Managed to put just a minimal amount of work into all of those activities--so much for one of my New Year's resolution. I'm already feeling the consequences of my procrastination--my syllabus may not be ready for Tuesday's morning class. I'm hoping this is not a sign of what's to come this spring.

So I can't really account for my activities this week. Simply said, such mental blanks are not good. Mental blanks signal that it's time to return to a daily schedule. Daily schedules that accomodate the System, finding a phd program, foster a writing schedule, and start studying for the GRE. Maybe a daily schedule will help me fight the urge to watch way too much tv. Maybe.

Sigh, I'm back, I'm plugged in.

G. and I are headed to Las Vegas, Santa Fe, and Alburquerque, New Mexico tomorrow for a much needed out-of-town excursion before our semesters start. Little Filomena is staying at my mom's, so it's like she's on vacation, too. Unfortunately, I've been feeling a wee bit under the weather these past couple of days--what lousy luck BUT I will perservere! (and travel with several boxes of kleenex)

Hold on to your hats, folks, I've got a system

Pizza is magic.

Pizza and diet coke helped me recover from my New Year's, champagne induced hangover. Pizza made it possible to channel surf without barfing. With pizza, I could hold my head up again. Pizza is magic.

So I was flipping through the channels and noticed that the home shopping networks were selling exercise equipment to cater to all those sad sacks who ate too much and are trying to pump themselves up to take off the excess.

I am one of those sad sacks. I had to lose a couple of pounds before November and just never got around to it. The situation deepened around November 14 when I began consuming large amounts of cake. Thanskgiving introduced pie and stuffing to the mix, then two birthdays around the beginning of December (equals more cake and eating out) plus various Christmas goodies plus increased drinking. Yeesh, I've successfully increased the original number of poundage to lose by twofold, necessitating a wardrobe realignment and the purchase of transition pants. Transition fucking pants.

Good news is that I bought a system, an exerise system called The Step. The program included fitness ball, exercise band, 3 lb weights, a step-dealie, and three workout dvds. The workouts are led by Cathe (yep, with an e--more fitness instructor-y, don't you think?), who, to my enormous relief, is genuinely cheerful and pleasant and completely unlike other fitness instructors (Leslie Sansone, I'm thinking of you).

I am so ready to throw off this vacation-induced laziness and holiday binge-o-rama. Yet I also have to remind myself to keep things in perspective, focus on the health benefits and not so much the scale, and not to lose the humor in life. Ah, yes, humor.

Experts report that the majority of people who make the resolution to lose weight/exercise don't keep it up, but I have faith in the possibility and promise of resolutions. Maybe I won't get to learning portuguese, but I can do this! I will do this! I must do this!

Best of luck from the bottom of my heart to anybody else who bought transition pants and systems this New Year's.

I'm a cliche!

I've been lucky enough to dodge hangovers this entire week. The secret? Eat before you go to bed. The amount you eat determines whether you'll escape entirely from headache/nausea hell or suffer just a wee bit. My luck ran out this morning. It was a very low key New Year's Eve. Had dinner with friends and a late night game of Scattergories with my sister and brother in law before popping open the champagne-esque sparkling stuff for midnight. Champagne-esque sparkling stuff always makes me sick--that and mixing red and white wines the entire night. Yeesh, just thinking about it...

And now I have a headache and slight nausea, like so many other sad sacks this morning. On the bright side, pizza has just been delivered. There is hope...