Thank you thank you thank you very very muchly for all of the birthday wishes!

I woke up to the sonic booms caused by the shuttle and thought, "Thunder? Cool!"

t does birthday dance

I'm wearing ALL PINK today!

AND, Debet made me a tiara with the Leo sign on it that matches my tatoo!

I'm just gonna be more interested on their take on their own work, and find it more genuine, than the dude writing that he knows what's in Joss' head

Well, sure, so would I. I'm not saying the author's perspective isn't interesting and valuable. It's just not appropriate for the kind of writing we're talking about.

Hmm, I always thought postmodernism was a direct off-shoot of semiotic which was the origin of the "myth of intentionality". I could be confusing it with something else, though.

Now you're just trying to scare me. And it's working. It's sort of pop deconstructionism; the practice doesn't always match the theory. If I search a text for evidence of sexism, I'll probably find some, and when I do, I'll assume that the author put it there. It's how people think. I mean, if postmodernists truly believed everything, including postmodernism, was relative, they'd be a lot easier to deal with.

Since I'm having a hard time tracking today, I'm not going to even try.

My weekend: Food. Lots of food. Wedding was a multicourse, sit-down affair, and I'm forgetting something here. Fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, greens drizzled with some balsamic stuff. Then salmon and scallops (I don't like scallops) with a lemongrass and basil and lemon something. Then lemon sorbet with grey goose vodka (I have no idea how that worked, it was my kind of sorbet. Tart as hell.) Then some really nicely rare SD beef medallion things with a lovely mashed potato pancake. Champagne toast. Then a half-a-shoebox sized piece of rasberry infused(?) tiramisu.

And that's just the adult meals. The kids had a much more kid-friendly version that managed to keep them entertained.

Oof. Then sunday we went out to the farm where I had sweet corn-on-the-cob, cucumbers and tomatoes fresh from the garden. I miss my aunt's corn. She's got a special variety and planting schedule that makes it the best ever. Oh, and we had pork. Lots of pork. Lots of very fresh pork. And then I wandered over to the sheds and played with day-old piglets. Um.

There was also the expected Minnesota summer party dish, the watergate salad (pistachio pudding, coolwhip, marshmellows and crushed pineapple.)

Damn, that sounds like good eating, sara.

Project Greenlight on respirator. . . but at least it has a chance.

2 hour tribute to Peter Jennings on ABC tomorrow night.

What the Rolling Stones are up to:

World's Greatest Rock 'n' Roll Band is out with a new album next month, and it includes a love song in reverse for the Bush administration. It's called "Sweet Neo Con," and it goes something like this: "You call yourself a Christian, I call you a hypocrite. You call yourself a patriot, well I think you're full of shit. How come you're so wrong, my sweet neo-con?"

On the radio this morning, they were talking about potential replacements for Jennings. Nobody jumped out into the lead, other than possibly Diane Sawyer, but if they went with a female anchor, I'd personally love to see them go with someone with more field reporting experience (and fewer fluff pieces) but still personable, like Soledad O'Brien.

Damn, that sounds like good eating, sara.

It really was. Luckily, my sense of taste didn't go awol until yesterday, so I got to enjoy it.

I'm kicking myself for not asking my aunt if I could go get a couple of ears of corn to take with me. I walked into the house and despite it not being the old farmhouse (it's next door) the smell of the corn immediately made SUMMER start blaring in my head. I spent at least a couple weeks every summer up on the farm until I was 14 or so and we stopped going up there regularly.

The cousin who got married is the same age as I, and we were thick as thieves growing up. Out at the farm, we dragged her husband and one of our other cousin's 5 year old all over, showing where we used to twirl and hang and generally improvise gymnastics on various farm equipment (we WERE 9 for the '84 Olympics!) and the old shed that was our "house" (old metal toy stove is still in there, buried under spare parts now. There are still some fading old magazine pictures we'd pasted to the walls.)

The old barn is gone, so no showing off that deathtrap, but my uncle still has the old tractor that was his father's that I accidentally started when I was 12 and freaked the hell out.

Somewhat of a wonder we survived. We knew not to play around with the silos, though.

Funniest thing was that my flight home got cancelled. Oops. So they put me on another airline, which turned out to be much more direct, so that was good. I was sitting patiently at the gate, waiting for boarding and who should show up but my cousin and her new husband! They were on the same flight. So we got to talk some more, and I got to get to know him better. We also had an hour in Cinncinatti, so more talking and catching up, which was awesome. Then they were off to Amsterdam for a honeymoon.

tommyrot! USPS website says they attempted to deliver the package at 11:47, so at least it's in your town.