Exotic yet ordinary

Mark your calendars. Lust, Caution, Ang Lee's World War II-era espionage thriller starring Joan Chen and Tony Leung!, hits theaters September 28. Sexy! I'd totally squee if I weren't so tired and disgustipated by how busy things are at work.

Friday evening, after a final supper with Dave and Sarah (who are abandoning us next week for Chi-town), we motored over to Tulsa to see The Lips rock the main stage at DiversaFest. I viewed most of the concert through my camera since I was too short to see it otherwise (it NEVER fails - the tallest of tall people always step RIGHT in front of me when a band takes the stage). Here are some shots I took before the show and while listening to The Flaming Lips:

I rescued my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows from the evil chain store shortly after midnight and made it back to the house just after 1:00AM. I changed into my night clothes lickety split, hunkered down in bed, heavy book in hand, kissed the husband goodnight, and began to read. Out loud. At his request. He had waited up, you see, and he asked so nicely, after all, and although I really dislike reading out loud (I get the intonation all wrong and inevitably jumble words and I don't do voices for the characters, sorry) I decided a few chapters read out loud initially, just until he falls asleep, would be okay. And when I wake up, I can charge ahead. Silently.

759 pages later, I'm still reading aloud. By the time we finished the book 1:15-ish Monday morning, my tongue felt abnormally... thick... as though it had been subjected to an engorgement charm. Apparently, reading out loud for hours upon hours upon HOURS on end does that. But, it was worth it. It was fun to have someone to go through the book with, someone who also snickered as we read about Voldemort stroking his angry snake, and who misheard me when I reached the bit about roses in buttonholes.

The book was great. It's difficult to talk about it without giving too much away, but I will say this: I TOLD you so!

Dear evil chain store which cheerfully harbors my copy of Book 7,

I will be in attendance at your release party this evening. You were the closest to Cowtown and you promised butterbeer. And shrieking pre-teens in costumes. Okay, and shrieking adults in costumes. Really, who can resist that? I have managed to avoid spoilers, even the teensiest of teensy ones, up to this point (it helps to not know the top secret locations of all the fan sites and to have co-workers who have better things to do than fuss over a boy wizard, the lunatics). So please oh pleeeease, with Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans on top , do not muck this up by allowing any of us to get our grubby little paws on Deathly Hallows before midnight, no matter what promises that hot, underaged Luna Lovegood made. That way, I won't have to waste precious reading time thumping the inconsiderate jerkface two spaces ahead of me who thumbed through the book with the sole purpose of discovering who gets offed, only to report the body count at an obnoxious volume to the friend dressed like Professor Trelawney all of two inches away. Otherwise, thanks in advance for a lovely evening.

Hugs and kisses,
Nanda

Some people, important people, people that I share a small, hemmed in space with five days a week, tell me that posting pictures? Not blogging. Not really. So today, Holly, I'm going to post something from YouTube! Ah haha!

I have two songs stuck in my head, and I've been alternating between them for a coupla days now. One is the bouncy "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts", the other is the charming (in a way that makes me want to perpetually throw up) novelty song "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas". Of all the songs in the known universe, why these two songs in particular should turn against me in such a vicious way I'm sure I'll never know. But I am certain of this: I. Am. Being Punished.

I am only familiar with a few lines from each song, so the same fragments (I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts/There they are all standing in a row/Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head and I want a hippopotamus for Christmas/Only a hippopotamus will do) relentlessly seesaw back and forth throughout the day. Um, out loud. Not exactly conducive to social work, but it does help to secure my position as the office weirdo.

In a weird twist of fate, I came across this over at Milk money or not, here I come. I can now randomly interject Roll a bowl a ball a penny a piiiITCH! into any quiet moments of the day, which is GREAT because I think it is finally scaring off the hippos.