Leo for President

I saw Leonardo DiCaprio today. He was giving a stump speech for Kerry on behalf on environmental groups. He wasn't bad - seemed like a normal nice guy, and covered well when he reminded us that we could still register absentee until Oct. 26. I'm quite ready to vote and be done with this (is anyone still making up their mind? Are they really swayed by those people holding signs on highway overpasses and causing accidents?) although I do fear the results. After getting burned in the last gubernatorial election, I have lost my naivety and blind faith. My grandma won't tell anyone how she votes - not even my mom - saying that it's a secret ballot and she doesn't have to share. I can see her point - I feel strongly about politics, but I don't enjoy going back and forth debating topics very much. Maybe because I did enough debate back in high school. Yet I don't want to be one of those lazy people who don't care enough to do something to better our nation. What a quandary.

So I have yet to find a productive way to fill my evenings now that grad school is done. I could volunteer, but I decided to take a break from the Girl Scouts (apart from the teen book club I lead, I'll still do that), and no other group really excites me at the moment. I considered taking a part time job, but I don't want to be tied to a schedule. I completed some home improvement projects, enough that more time isn't going to help me do more. And I've learned that unstructured time doesn't necessarily mean I'll do anything productive - like work on doing some freelance work. I used to be gung ho about starting a book club, but they seem so fraught with danger. I don't know if any of my friends really have weekday nights to devote to me either. As husband is starting more evening rehearsals, I need to think of something to do.

Reading: Calm Energy, Interpreter of Maladies
Eating: A lot of squash. Will I turn orange like with carrots?
Watching: a lot, since we joined one of those video store clubs. Just finished Mean Girls.

All-you-can-drink-buffet

Abruptly after declaring everything wouldn't work and we were back at square one, my dad called to say it was decided - Playacar for us. For those keeping score, this was the place with the free premium drinks (it's an all-inclusive, so all food is included too). But all the Bacardi you can drink was not the deciding factor. The direct flight, nice beaches, things to do nearby, ease, and the fact that it's someplace we've never been were the deciding factors. It also has daily afternoon tea, with those tasty little cakes, and a whole slew of those wonderful little classes like yoga on the beach and cooking lessons which I plan to attend upon arrival but miss once the beach-yes-I'd-like-another-Mojito-mmm-this-is-the-life lethargy sets in.

Something warm sounds nice as it is brr brr-ity cold here. Last night I clung with the tenacity of a leech to A, availing myself of his warmth. Perhaps it's time to start thinking about turning the heat on. Or purchasing a hot water bottle.

I have the wonder of wonder, miracles of miracle next week - two days off, during the week, when no one else has them off. I'll be able to live the leisure life of the rich urban socialites, running errands in the expanse of daytime hours, sipping coffee while writing letters, basking in the glow of real daylight that seems only an illusion from my office window. These days were given to me and my coworkers as a precious gift in return for the countless extra hours we have worked lately, including many weekend hours.

Looking to the Beach Boys for inspiration

How hard can it be to pick a vacation destination? My family is working to find out the answer to that question. So far we have seriously considered and almost booked the following:
Costa Rica
Bora Bora
Tahiti
Cabos St. Lucas, Mexico
British Virgin Islands (3 resorts on private islands)
Playacar, Mexico
Aruba (several resorts)
After having to give up Costa Rica because there is, according to our travel agent, nothing to do there and no shopping, I have been careful not to become really attached to any of the places.
We've looked at private islands more attuned to the likes of celebrities, we've looked at big chain resorts, all-inclusives (AI, to the vulgar), and small getaways. Our standards for the room and restaurants are so high, and we want both a quiet, peaceful island and enough things to do. Culture but not too much culture. Direct flights are a plus, less-than-spectacular beaches get you cut from the list. We've considered places that have come with everything from private butlers to huts over the water to free unlimited premium drinks to our own private plunge pool.
Where oh where we will end up? Is there something in paradise to meet our every whim and fancy? Or will we be disappointed because we've seen the best that's out there and couldn't have everything?
It seems sort of ominous - will we, like Gatsby, fall victim to our vanity? Or will we have the vacation of the lifetime, followed quickly by some unfortunate event that will change everything? Why am I so fearful? I think I read too much. Good things always go bad in novels.

I burunti your Fendi bag

I just finished reading The Sex Life of Cannibals, which was oddly not very much about sex lives and cannibals. What it was about was the author's two years on a remote atoll in Kiribati in the south Pacific with his girlfriend. I've always fantasized about visiting those end-of-the-earth places, the tiny dots on maps that look impossible to get to. (My desire is also enhanced due to our failed Bora Bora trip.) But Kiribati is no Hawaii. Picture Hawaii with no greenery, elevation, or island breezes. His diet consisted of fish and beweeviled rice, with a few expired cans of chicken curry. I won't ruin all the surprises, in case you read it, but one of my favorite parts is when he describes this custom called burunti (OK, I don't have my book with me, so that's probably misspelled). But the custom is that anyone can request something of someone else and they have to give it to them. (I.e. I burunti your fishing pole). Anyway, it was a fascinating read, and again made me ponder whether we will ever give it all up and live really simply somewhere, or continue along our consumer-driven path. The odd thing is like the couple in the book, I think we'll float back and forth between the two worlds. The couple moved back to D.C. and spent some crazy years flinging money around, then moved to Fiji and returned to the simple life (although not quite as terribly simple as their life on Kiribati was).

Meeting Michelle Kwan and the perfect cabin weekend

So what I joked about for weeks did come true. I did meet Michelle Kwan and I did, yes, weird as it sounds, see her pee. When we signed up for this doping thing I didn't really know what we were getting into.. and it was really strange that we, two people not connected with the skating world, were doing this. But we got to see some amazing skating from our well-stocked suite, then pop down to lower levels to see all the skaters up close warming up. It was a bit awkward watching the testing, mainly because we felt self-conscious that we had signed up for this, and who were these pervs who volunteered to watch skaters pee, but really it wasn't a big deal. Michelle was nice, albeit tired and a bit jaded, I think. She's been doing this a long time so I understand. Damn are those figure skaters fit, though, especially the women. It's hard to look past the sequins and netting and lame of the guys' costumes.

We left for the cabin at 11:45 p.m. - Husband drove the whole way, while I succumbed to sleep for awhile but then awoke to assist in watching for deer... which there were many.
The rest of the weekend was wonderful - long walks and hikes in the beautiful fall foliage, tasty squash soup and homemade blue cheese dressing, good times with friends EC and P, who brought up a fun craft project and two seasons of Coupling. Really, a perfect weekend. Too bad that as I write this I realized that we left the heat on! Damn! I think my parents are going up next weekend though.

Leaves glorious leaves.


Mmm... there's nothing like a fall cabin trip.