You call me crazy; I call me a music connoisseur

The men I love are recording their third album. I've already begun saving so I can join the insane -- or enthusiastic, rather -- women who remain perfectly above board (read: are not groupies in that sense) while indulging themselves in mini-tours. What's a mini-tour? It's when one attends several (often, but not always, consecutive) concert dates by the same band during the same tour. It's especially fun when one goes to several concerts within a four-to-six state radius and continually bumps into other mini-tourists. Not that I would know anything about this. True, I did go to two Keane concerts in as many days, but I WON tickets to one of them. That pretty much obligated me to go, I felt. You know, gift horse and mouth and all of that.

Anyway, here is a comical little update regarding Tom's, Tim's, and Richard's current creative progress. For fun, watch for my favorite part -- where Tom's lovely eyebrows make a special guest appearance. I take small comfort in knowing he'll never be mine by imagining the plucking and waxing we would be subjecting innocent offspring to.

Non-Commital Goal-Making

So, I've had very little willpower this weekend. I'm pretty sure that in the last three to four days I've put away a good two or more 8.5 oz. bags of those devilishly delicious Cadbury Mini Eggs. Actually, my bet is on the "or more." And I won't go into the other sweet and savory delights I've been cramming into my aptly-named cakehole.

Sadly, the discipline drought doesn't merely extend to food. Although I'd hoped to be in bed by 10 -- one might even have called it a goal or aspiration -- I ridiculously started another episode of Grey's Anatomy, assuring myself I would only watch until my horrifically boring story was finished. Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? Story finished, seventeen minutes into the episode and 20 minutes into the 10 o' clock hour, I'm thinking I've made a mistake. But will I turn McDreamy and Co. off anytime soon? Not bloody likely.

My point -- assuming I have one besides hoping that confessing my sins will shame me into shunning them forevermore -- is that I need to regain some control. The mere thought of which makes me start wondering what I've got in the fridge, freezer, and my cupboard that just might hit the spot. . .

But anyway -- CONTROL. That's the ticket, unless I fancy wedging myself into size ginormous jeans while trying to see over the dufflebags that are my under-eyes. How is it regained? I'm open to suggestions. By all means, flood the comment section with suggestions. Please.

The only solution I can think of is to list some goals I've been considering today. They're not set in stone, which is to say I'm definitely not ready to commit (oh boy -- another topic for another day!), but I'm thinking about them. Again, (kind and constructive) comments and concerns are welcome. Oooh . . . alliteration.

For the Body

1. Low carbs for the foreseeable future. No bagels, grilled cheese sandwiches, or corn chips at work anymore. Veggie omelets with no cheese and salads with feta crumbles from now on. This should be easier with the ruggedly attractive IMA coming back into the office for a couple of weeks. Maybe pretending to love rabbit food for two weeks will break me of my bad habits. Fingers crossed.

2. Bedtime at 10:30 at the very latest -- with solid efforts aiming more toward 10. No computer after 9. Unless I get home late. This one is negotiable? Maybe 9:30?

For the Soul

1. Pursue voice lessons with Mary. Sing again. Maybe others will hear and enjoy, but that doesn't really matter. Perfection would not be the object; music -- whether rough or refined -- would be the object.

2. Ever-so-slightly related to #1: Sing in ward choir. Not necessarily for the vocal advancement, but for the spiritual involvement, the opportunity to enjoy the company of friends who also love to sing, and the impetus to arrive at church early and adjust to the spirit there rather than skid in at the last moment, hoping to find an empty seat in the chapel.

3. Stop comparing myself to others. Stop hurting myself and holding myself back by comparing myself with others. 'Nuff said.

Which Jane Austen Heroine Are You?

I could not resist this silly quiz. I'm very surprised by the results, actually. I was expecting to be a mixture of Marianne Dashwood and Emma Woodhouse (unbridled emotion meets a well-meaning make-over fanatic). I was afraid I might be Jane Bennett, whom I've always considered excruciatingly dull. I can be very happy, however, about resembling the revered Miss Eliza Bennett. (I've always fancied my eyes to be quite fine, I'll confess.)

And so you have it:

You are Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice! You are intelligent, witty, and tremendously attractive. You have a good head on your shoulders, and oftentimes find yourself the lone beacon of reason in a sea of ridiculousness. You take great pleasure in many things. You are proficient in nearly all of them, though you will never own it. Lest you seem too perfect, you have a tendency toward prejudgement that serves you very ill indeed.

Must work on the last part.

If, indeed, it is true.

You Ask, I Deliver

I really should be asleep. I have a big day tomorrow. I was haunted, however, by the request for pictures in the previous post's comments section. (I do read them. Sincere gratitude to those who comment on my rambles.)

Ever the conscientious journalist, I decided to spare just a moment of beauty sleep (now matter how necessary!) to upload a picture or two. I'll try to post more, provided I can locate my stubbornly missing camera cable-thingy.

This was taken outside my house during the Leap Day party my roomies and I hosted. It was great fun. My dear friends Kim and Adrianne are middle and top girls, respectively. We were attempting one of Kim's famous "jumping photos," but when gravity proved too consistent a force, we eventually settled for a leap-frog theme instead.

It started to snow right as we went outside, giving our shoot a bit of Boston ambience.

This is one of the cupcakes that Brittany and Katie made. Just imagine a few dozen of them together--too cute. Brittany is a party genius. Someday she will be the new Jackie O, except more fun.

More later, with some luck and my cable-thingy. Off to sleep for me!