But Call Me Betsy

Went to see Silver Lining Playbook last night and was surprised when, a little less than halfway through, it became a movie about a dance contest combined with a potentially ruinous bet on a Philadelphia Eagles football game. When the dance element was introduced, Dan turned to me and said, "Is this really happening? Are they really going to go through with a dance off?" The movie devolved swiftly there, especially when we got the dance practice montage and the difficult jump moment ala Dirty Dancing . Lots of shouting in the movie, and lots or repetitive scenes of the dad (Robert de Niro) begging the son to stay and watch a game with him. Then another implausible scene where the crazy love interest rattles off the scores of all the Philly games along with the dates she's spent with Bradley Cooper, all out of nowhere and all meant to be this triumphant moment of confrontation that instead felt totally contrived--like, why would she just happen to know all those date...

I couldn't really tell you if the gifts listed below were truly my favorite ones, or if they're just the presents I happen to remember most vividly, or if they were the ones that I recall from photographs. I have a terrible memory, so there may be dozens of other presents I'm blocking out. I do know that I got a doll for Christmas every year, and they were always really good dolls (except for that one year when Baby Alive was popular. I liked her okay, but she was also one of the only dolls I had that pooped and peed and I just didn't see the point of having toy you had to take care of in that way. Do dolls poop now? Perhaps that was just a fad?). Anyway, over the years, I got several Madame Alexander dolls, but the one I remember most vividly was the baby doll. She cried when you turned her over and she smelled good--not like a real baby, mostly like plastic, but in a good way, and she wore a very pretty white christening gown with pink ribbons and miniature buttons....

Not really. But I've had the same item returned to me twice this month, one of great value, one that impacts me on a daily basis: my city SEPTA pass. Last Tuesday, I ran out of class to catch the train and discovered I didn't have it. A few days later, my teacher emailed everyone to let us know she found the pass. I got it back yesterday, after only a three day/$20 loss. Then today, I got to my stop at Snyder and realized the pass was gone again, even though I remembered putting it in my pocket when I walked out of the house. I retraced my steps all the way back to my house, didn't find it, started back to the subway and checked between the cars, and there it was, forlorn. I want to make something more of this about the universe giving back or perseverance in searching for lost things, but I don't know if there isn't maybe just a simpler lesson, which is that I need to keep hold of the damn thing and quit putting it in my coat pocket where it can flutter away. And...

These are courtesy of Instagram. I didn't use my phone as much as my camera, in large part because I was on the wireless plan to avoid additional costs and there wasn't always a signal. Also, I can of prefer an actual camera to the phone. It feels more authentic. Here are the remaining photos. Dan has some too, but neither one of us can figure out how to get them off his phone to my email. These are pretty much in no particular order and/or backwards from  a chronological perspective of the trip. Dan in the bathroom at the Butler in Kilkenny, filling up the electric tea kettle. Breakfast was included in the cost of the hotel, and had a hot and cold portion. Here is where Dan fell off his no-gluten diet and at an entire raisin scone with jelly (pictured in background) In one of the rooms--not sure why Dan has made the puffer fish face. The back of the cabbie's head from the Manchester Airport into the city. Tea and poppyseed banana cake with white c...

Yesterday, we had a photo shoot for our work holiday card. It involved stringing lights, rearranging the living room, and setting up the clip lights (I learned that movie lingo from Lisa Marie). Then, Jason and I hunkered down behind the coffee table to practice making two sock puppets look as if they were singing a Penn song. Here's a sneak peek. They pay me to do this.

I'm sure there is an easier way to post these pictures, but I am not able to download the program I need for the compatible photo platform, so you'll just have to bear with me on this long scroll down. On our way. It's the 3 PM train from NJ Transit line from Trenton to Newark. Luggage takes a full seat. That's my giant suitcase, stuffed with skirts I never wore. On the plane to Dublin. Still on our way. Seamus was there to greet us at 7 AM. Here is the second bedroom where we slept. Front door of Carrie and Padhraig's digs. A child actor lives below them. He's grown now and still an actor, but very disgruntled. We didn't ge tto meet him. Padhraig against stick fence. Exterior of the church where Seamus will be baptized. Rubbish in the waterway. It was mostly cans of beer. No bicycles allowed to cross at this time. Map of the park. No Scottie dogs allowed on premises. Here we are at Trini...