*Edit: I thought of a few more. Can you spot the new additions?

Every Year I…
…try to check yet another goal off my list of things to do before I retire from this earth.
…plan at least one trip out of the country (the operative word there is “plan;” I missed 2004, not to mention years 1997-2001 and every year before eighth grade).
…get at least one bad haircut. (Not on purpose, of course.)
...watch boxes of really crappy movies just for the chance to get free passes to the Phoenix Film Festival.
…aim to see all the Best Picture-nominated movies before the Oscars.
…contribute to the local NPR station, KJZZ.
...miss the Artisan so much I actually contemplate buying a ticket to KC/STL just so I could visit.
…say this’ll be the year I go skiing for the first time since high school and never get there.
...make at least one mix CD that I'm really proud of.

Every Month I…
…attempt to stick to my budget. (I do well most of the time!)
…tend to go a week where all the emails stack up in my inbox before I get the chance to respond to any of them.
…have dinner with Brooke, Chris and Viviane, during which I try to persuade Viviane to say “Erica.” So far our response to, “Viviane, who’s this? [pointing at myself]” is: “This!” Although, sometimes, after much prompting she’ll exclaim, “Ca!”
…pay my credit card balance in full.
...put away money for The Big Trip.
…vow to spend a weekend starting my portfolio website. I’m not very good at keeping said vow.
…mix up some homemade margaritas.

Every Week I…
…update the podcasts on my iPod.
…talk with Sarah and with Pat.
...hope this is the week they start covering the Suns again. (It's nearly NBA season again!)
...take at least one really good nap.
…catch at least one episode of BBC World News on NPR.
...go for a walk in the park during my lunch break.
…hike a short distance on Camelback (or at least plan to until my sleep schedule gets the better of me).
…back up everything important on my work computer.
...exchange witty email banter with any combination of the following: Dan, J-Dub, Pat, Sarah, Megan, Jason.
…drool over George and Burke while watching Grey’s Anatomy.
…swear I’ll get more sleep than the previous week.

Every Day I…
…marvel at the sunsets here in Arizona.
…check your blog.
...check her blog.
…press snooze.
…drink at least two glasses of milk.
...create a to-do list.
...obsessively watch the instant mileage calculator in Yolanda the Honda.
...laugh at Satchel and Bucky's adventures in Get Fuzzy.
…tell Bandit “bye-bye,” his cue to race to the couch by the window to watch me get in my car and leave.


To Phucket. Or not to Phucket...
I really want to travel to Thailand right now. Is that bad?


Keepin' it Real
My friend Matt managed to upset the entire Jon Bon Jovi fan club earlier this week when he posted on his personal blog a not-so-favorable anecdote about his recent encounter with/photography assignment of Mr. Jon. And as interesting as the dynamics of the ensuing response were, I think you, my many journalistically minded readers, would find Matt's subsequent post about the impact his photojournalism has had in Katrina-hit Houma, La., more interesting and definitely inspiring. Keep up the good work, Matt.

Is it really September? Really?


Everyone warns you about the Freshman 15, but no one warns you about Desk Job Dozen. I've just about worked mine off, though. Gym memberships are good for something.

Broken Record
So every once in a while I latch onto an album. Current such album: KT Tunstall's Eye To The Telescope. Totally diggin' it.

Just Wondering...
What do you know about bipolar? I'm reading up. Email me privately. Cheers.


Bandit has many nicknames:

Bandito Burrito
Mr. B
Buck Boy
Frog Dog
Chicken Legs
Cute (as in, "Hey, Cute. Why are you chewing up my flip flops yet again?")

Well, now we can add "Graduate" to the litany of nicknames, as a couple of weeks ago, Bandito Burrito graduated from puppy training class. We're proud parents, as you can guess.

More Pictures: Yesterday's Tailgating Extravaganza

What can I say? It was hot.

The Manhattanites: Me, Tim & Eric

Katie, beers

Jana & Nathan

Slowest Grill in the World™

The album is here.


Denver at a glance

In honor of Pat

Some foosball ass-kicking (Sarah did the kicking)

Some low-key hiking

Too much Comic Sans

Pretty lighting at One World Cafe

More pictures here.


I Was Sitting in an Airplane Over Winslow, Ariz*…
SOUTWEST AIRLINES — …Such a fine sight to see. This is the first time I get to travel with Jack Jr., and I figured I needed to maximize the opportunity. So here I sit 12,000** feet up in the air, headed to Denver, composing a blog post in Word.

I hope I never tire of sitting in a window seat. When I traveled with a couple flatmates to Italy for spring break in 2003, one of them scoffed at me when I got excited that my seat on Alitalia was by the window. I’m sure she thought I was some poor provincial Kansas farm girl who was not as privileged as she was, flying home for term breaks while at Mizzou. She was an experienced traveler and the novelty of watching the earth below was, well, beneath her. I felt sorry for her, actually. We were flying over Italy! Who wouldn't want to look out the window? Flight travel amazes me,*** and I love to experience the whole trip. I love the deep rush of the engines as you pick up speed down the runway. I love how quickly you rise and how fast the large buildings become so miniscule. I love how when the plane tilts, you don’t really feel it inside, but when looking out the window the ground seems to pitch and turn. I love that on my last trip, during a flight to Chicago, we flew over the Midwest and I nearly flipped out when I recognized Manhattan below us. I wanted to announce to the cabin, “There’s Tuttle Creek! That must be the new Super Wal*Mart! I see my old neighborhood!” It all fascinates me, and although I plan to travel pretty much forever, I hope sitting in the window seat never gets old and that flying (or driving or traversing by train) never becomes mundane.

*According to our captain, we did just fly over Winslow, how appropriate.

**Total wild-ass guess. I have no clue how high planes fly; and I've always been bad with numbers.

***A couple years ago, we were dropping Ally off at the airport to go back to Kansas, and she made the comment, “I still don’t believe planes can fly. I can’t believe it actually works to get that big thing up so high. I’m just lucky that the pilots believe it.”