mr. bojangles

The neighbors across the street from us have a pet rooster named Mr. Bojangles. Mr. Bojangles is a very proud rooster, and crows to show us all how well he can do it. His lung capacity is quite impressive for a bird, I've gotta say. Mr. Bojangles doesn't like to be lonely, and crows when he's sad and alone. Nobody wants to sit outside with a rooster all day, especially one as show-offy as Mr. Bojangles, so he crows a lot about this as well. Mr. Bojangles likes pretty weather, and crows because he's happy when the sun shines. He hates being wet, and so crows when it rains or is dreary.

Basically, Mr. Bojangles crows a lot. I should be annoyed, but I actually like Mr. Bojangles. There's just something about a strutting old rooster singing his heart out that makes me smile, whether he's singing his woes, triumphs, or praises. Plus, his name is Mr. Bojangles. How could I not like that name for a rooster? It's pretty darn funny. This morning as I left for work, Mr. Bojangles was going to town with his crowing--I don't think he was even taking time to breathe. Today he's happy about the pretty weather. 70 degrees in December--I'm certainly not going to complain! :)

PS: I love unexpected little Christmas gifts from co-workers and friends! Especially when chocolate is involved! It's almost better than Christmas morning..........almost.

pearls of wisdom

It's important to learn from our daily experiences, right? Right. It's how we grow and become better people. Here are some of the things I've learned from personal experience today:

• 35 miles per hour is a good speed for merging onto the interstate
• the painted white and yellow lines on the roads are more "guidelines" than actual "rules"
• copy machines are mostly for decoration
• paper jams don't necessarily require paper
• psychic mind-reading powers are the norm--if you don't have them, you're an idiot
• spiders make good Christmas decorations
• white people are physically incapable of speaking Spanish (this must be why native Spanish-speakers feel free to say anything and everything they're thinking while you're standing just five feet away; I mean, it's impossible that I can understand what they're saying, right?)
• responsibility is for suckers

I just hope that I can learn as much every day of my life (and just think--today's only half over!).

plants don't talk

My boss is in the corner ruthlessly hacking leaves from the jungle-looking plant that graces our office. She talks to it tenderly like it's a living thing--okay, it is a living thing, but it can't hear you, woman! Oh well, it's an excusable habit, I suppose. Lots of people talk to their plants. She then turns to me smiling eerily and says that sometimes it talks back to her. Okaaaay...that's not quite as excusable (maybe the plant told her to rip its leaves maliciously from its branches). Finally she leaves and I look at the plant hopefully--a talking plant could make me a lot of money. But the thing never says anything, dang it. I'm shocked.

Why do we even have a stupid plant in our office anyway? Why do people put plants in their houses/offices at all? It doesn't make any sense. It takes hundreds of thousands of dollars and countless hours of the hardest human labor to get away from them--hammers pounding, saws buzzing, sweat dripping, the scrape of concrete on concrete and the rumbling of machinery. In the end it's all worth it, though, because we, the people of this planet, have successfully blocked out all of nature's ills--no more needy plants, dirt and bugs, or long hot nights--and created a home of solid brick (or whatever material you happen to prefer). Yes, inside the four walls tirelessly created we can truly make a home, complete with every comfort a person could ever desire.

No more sleeping on dirt under the boughs of a tree for shelter like our ridiculous ancestors, or maybe like those idiot animals out in the yard. We know better. We know we are above such things. We fill the empty space with furniture, soft and luxurious, and line the freshly painted walls with pictures of ourselves and our families (no, we're not vain). We block out the sunlight with lovely silk curtains, get shiny new appliances in the kitchen, and plush new carpet on the floors. Ah, we people know what makes us happy.

After hours of decorating, we stand in the middle of our newly created habitat, and frown as we look around and are unable to shake the feeling that something is missing. Something is not quite right. We look at the room from different perspectives and move the furniture around, but something extra is still needed. As we stare at the empty spot in the corner, at last we have that Aha! moment when inspiration strikes.

We drive to the Home Depot and pick up a potted plant with pretty leaves and vibrant greens, or maybe an exotic bamboo, and put it right in the corner. Ah, that's better. We start to long for smooth, rich oak beneath our feet rather than carpet, and then hang pictures of beautiful landscapes on the wall. We then draw the curtains and open the windows and hope for breezes, begging the outside world to please come in.

My, we are fickle creatures. Inside or out, what do we want? The best of both worlds, I suppose. And there's nothing wrong with that, really. I've never been much of a plant person, but any kind of flowers are always aces in my book. Something deep down inside of every human being misses the outside world of nature when we block it all out. I guess maybe our true genious isn't our escape from nature, but the balance we achieve when we have a little of both inside and out.

I miss my dog.

2008 has been great in a lot of ways--there have been weddings and birthdays, reunions with long-unseen family members, new jobs, beautiful days, and cross country adventures. But in many ways it has also been most unkind, and I'll be incredibly glad to kiss it good-bye at the end of this month. The most recent unkindness has been the loss of my family's dog, a sweet-hearted animal that my dad rescued from being prematurely euthenized 8 years ago. It's upsetting to think that the happy, energetic dog we lived with would never had had those last 8 years if by chance my dad hadn't stopped to admire the rottweiler. It was hard letting go after trying to nurse him back to health for several days (isn't it weird how attached a person can get to an animal? It's weird, I know, but I was attached), but seeing him in pain hurt me more than I knew it could. Anyways, the point of this rambling post is that I miss him. And I miss my grandparents, too, who I also lost this year. It really has been a year for the record books, but I'm glad to report that I've learned from it all and hopefully have become a better person for it. If nothing else, I've come to appreciate my family and friends more than ever (and that's a whole whole lot). :)

PS: Sorry if this post has any misspellings. I don't feel like checking it.

back to the daily grind

The worst part about holidays isn't the excess of money spent, the mass quantities of calories consumed (that's actually my favorite part--which is probably why I love Thanksgiving so much), or even the stress of all the planning. No, the worst part about the holidays is the Monday morning following the four (or more) glorious days of vacation--the cold, early morning when mundane, cruel reality slaps you hard in the face. Worse still is the day after that Monday, when you are sitting at your desk and have the depressing realization that it's only Tuesday. Why does time go so slowly following a holiday? Sigh. Here I am, plugging away, counting down the days till Christmas (and also till Friday).

Okay, lament aside, here are a few pictures from my Thanksgiving weekend, spent down in my favorite place on earth, my hometown of Beaufort.

This is at Granny's, and typical of my dad: somehow amidst the chaos he is quietly reading, while surrounded by animals. Seriously--typical. I love it.

My sister Jillian and I (and Colton, but he's not in the picture, sorry!) went into Port Royal and drove past our old house, which happened to be unoccupied. We, of course, decided to take the chance to look around, and this is in the backyard of the place we grew up. Somewhere under our feet is the golden bird statue-thing of my mom's that I buried as treasure (I made a map, but somehow could never find it again). Good memories.

I remembered which windows in the house never locked (you'd think after all these years that somebody would have fixed them, but no--that's the South for you), and viola! We were in (for some reason once you've lived in a place, and felt totally a part of it, you always feel entitled and welcome to visit--even if in reality it's an old house you have no right to enter)! This is our old living room--check out the awesome wood paneling. Love it. :)

Then we drove down to the Sands, where I played as a kid for hours at a time. Yep, it's still beautiful, even in winter.

The dock at the Sands.

Well, now it's back to work. It's time for me to pick out a new book to read online (Kim was good after I got through the first couple of chapters. It seems like all old books are like that).

don't send me stupid e-mails

So, the college (where I work) has an "emergency website." I'm not really sure what that means, but it must be a big deal because they just sent out a campus-wide email (that was like 291.2 pages long) telling us about it. Yes, this website will be used in the event of an emergency on the campus. So, if the 410 building burns down, we can at least take comfort in knowing that we can log-on to an emergency website. I wonder if it has calming colors? I feel safer already. Golly gee, this is exciting.

At 2 o'clock today they're going to switch to the emergency website (just as a trial run, of course--if they left it for long students would panic, you know). I know I can't wait. I'm so glad they sent out that email.

Turkey Day: T-minus 2 days and counting! Can you tell I need a break?

I took part in the mania

It could've been better, could've been worse. A good bit of it was crazy dramatic and way corny, but that was to be expected, so I really can't complain. A couple of scenes really bothered me, but overall I wasn't disappointed. It's just such a great story (props to the BYU grad!), how can you not love it in the end? And yes, I'm still on Team Jacob!

I'm still trying to figure out why the director didn't ask me to be in the movie, though...it just doesn't make any sense! Sure, I don't act, but I'm paler than Snow White and would have saved them a lot of money on make-up. Plus, I wouldn't have minded spending time around this particular vampire cast. I just hope the director realizes his mistake and contacts me before the next movie.

shirley temple

Before now, I never really understood why Shirley Temple movies were such great hits. Corny and predictable, they never could hold my attention for more than fifteen minutes at a time. The plotlines seemed unrealistic and pointless, really, and though I was told in class the reasons for their success, I never really understood them.

The era of the Great Depression is marked in American consciousness as the epitome of financial disaster and poverty, a time of ultimate desperation. During those years the future seemed bleak and distant, there was no good news to be found at any turn, and an air of solemnity hung heavily all across the country (and the world, for that matter). In the midst of this crisis, people barraged incessantly by the forlorn news of reality sought to escape it all for a few hours, and found that temporary solace in Shirley Temple. That's what I was taught in school, but I didn't really understand it. Why would hard-working people waste precious pennies on a corny-cute movie? Weren't they being irresponsible and irrational, ignoring the problems with which they were faced? Also, I didn't see how a movie could really help. It was only two hours, and the cheerfulness wasn't real--so how could it really help?

I think I understand now. I don't for a minute try to equate the current state of our nation with that of the Great Depression--that would be a bit ridiculous, and I have to admit that I roll my eyes whenever someone on the news channel does just that. Yes, we're headed in that direction, but we're not there yet, and we can change things (hopefully). But I do feel like every time I turn on the television, the news goes from bad to worse.

Stocks are crashing, banks are failing, companies are downsizing, thousands are losing their jobs, losing their homes, their livelihoods, and their dreams. Not a day goes by that I'm not barraged with the bad news. It's a constant, steady pummeling, dangerously close to stifling. I'm tired of it, so tired of it. I just want a break! Is that too much to ask? All I want to do is forget the world for a few hours, and pretend that life is bliss. I want to go to the theater and watch Shirley Temple tap dance.

...good thing Twilight comes out on Friday!

I cannot wait...

...for Thanksgiving!!!

I think I look forward to it more than Christmas. What a dork, right?

And this year I get to be at Granny's for the first time in five years! Whoo hoo! Hurry up, November 27th!

PS: I like this article, it's kind of interesting: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/11/light-pollution/klinkenborg-text/1

PSS: Well, I actually like the pictures more. Here's the link straight to those: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/11/light-pollution/richardson-photography

ode to the eye-roll

It's such a small gesture, requiring very little bodily movement and absolutely no strenuous effort. Yet, in an instant, this same gesture can irrefutably declare to the person at whom it is directed that his or her actions/words/thoughts are, in the opinion of the eye-roller, completely and utterly ridiculous, asinine, unfounded, and unnecessary. It's a powerful and annoying weapon, wielded by persons of every age, really, but is often employed as the heavy artillery of adolescents in particular.

The ability to roll their eyes at someone is stupidly (and quite immaturely) empowering to the powerless. When my boss asks me to do something ridiculous, I glean an inestimable amount of satisfaction from rolling my eyes at her behind her back. It makes me feel as though I've said my piece, even though I really haven't (is it "said my piece" or "peace"? Hmm..."piece" makes more sense to me). I've actually voiced my thoughts before, respectfully, but that only led to a long drawn out explanation describing my boss's convoluted reasoning, which I naturally found faulty in the end, yet still had no power to denounce.

Maybe one day I will no longer be one of the powerless, forced to resort to such petty action in order to release my frustration. Maybe soon I'll grow out of the juvenile habit. For now, though, I'll roll my eyes when I think something/someone is dumb.

gunfire lullaby

I'm probably one of the few people in this world who find the sound of gunfire in the distance comforting.

I grew up in Port Royal, a beautiful little Southern town by the bay, directly across the sound from Parris Island, South Carolina. On long summer nights, when dusk finally faded into darkness and I lay snuggly curled up in my bed, during that hazy time between waking and sleep, I drifted off listening to the steady report of gunfire. I equated the sound with safety, and with home. Even now when I hear the sound, or that of a jet flying overhead, I subconsciously relax, a habit formed from a lifetime of associating those sounds with some of my most peaceful moments.

Today is Veterans' Day, and the men and women we honor on this day doubtlessly equate the sound of gunfire with much more than a balmy Southern night. These men and women have faced death head-on; they have seen it, smelled it, and heard it. Our nation's soldiers have sacrificed on countless levels, and have served on the behalves of every man, woman, and child who make their homes on American ground.

My grandfather (the pics I've posted are of him) served in the US Navy during the Korean War, and this is the first Veterans' Day since that conflict that he has not been alive to see. He was, and is, a great man, a very model of generosity and selfless love, and though he had to struggle with illness for decades upon decades, he still continued to make an impact on his world until the very end. I love and miss him dearly. To him, and all others who have served, do serve, or will serve, I want to say thank you. In the midst of the current state of our union, people forget to remember your honor and fortitude, and belittle the efforts you make or have made in the presence of continual danger. You have given me freedom and peace, both as a young child lulled to sleep by rumbling rhythms, and as an adult walking freely across American soil.

When you drive past the Marine Corps Air Station (also in my hometown), a sign (put up in response to complaints regarding the loud rumbling of jets overhead) reads "The Sound You Hear is the Sound of Freedom." That sign always makes me smile.

breakfast is the most important meal of the day

I had a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit for breakfast this morning. I wanted it, I craved it; traffic was quick today, and I got to work 25 minutes early--all signs pointed to Burger King. I went to the drive-thru, and after some confusion over which window to pull up to (advancing and reversing multiple times were involved), I had my breakfast biscuit (plus hashbrowns and orange juice).

Now I feel like I've rubbed grease all over my face, and I feel sick-ish, and more than a little bit unhealthy.

...And yet, it was oddly worth it.

I'll pretend I'm going to Sweden

If you know me, you know how much I want to see the world. I've always been fascinated with the idea of place, and the significance place has in the human psyche (I'm not sure 'psyche' is the right word, but I'm using it anyway). Also, if you know me, you know I just don't have a lot of money to do all the things I want to do, especially travel. So I'm making a wishlist of all the places I want to see before I die. Here's the first item on the list: Stockholm, and the Swedish archipelago (along with a little side trip to Vingaker, land of my ancestors!).






Walking/biking trail just outside Stockholm













Sailing by the archipelago--hmm, it looks like I'll have to learn to sail before I go.








Tiny pond by the roadside in Vingaker.













Along the coast of the archipelago (posted by JimmyReu on Flickr)

If only these were my own travel pictures! Sigh, they're not (from visitsweden.com). Maybe one day, though, right? It doesn't hurt to kill time at work making a wishlist.

I think like this when I'm tired.

I am so tired that I'm not sure I'm actually awake.

I sat in traffic for 2+ hours this morning because a couple of idiots couldn't be bothered to look over their shoulders while switching lanes (I'm not heartless--everyone's ok).

I hear that if you bring in old campaign signs to Sticky Fingers today that they'll give you a free entree. There are a few of those sitting right outside my office (signs, not entrees).

Too bad right now I feel too tired to even think about eating.

My boss thinks vegetarians eat chicken.

I have this song stuck in my head:
Life is like a hurricane, when in Duckberg; Racecars, lasers, aeroplanes--It's a duck-blur! Might solve a myyyyystery (do do dooo) Or rewrite hiiiiistory! Ducktales (woooo ooooooo)

D-D-D-Danger! Watch behind you! There's a stranger out to find you! What to do? Just grab on to some DuckTales (woo ooooo)

I know I left parts out, but these are the good parts. What a great show. I liked the Scottish duck, even though he was bad. How can you not like someone with a thick Scottish brogue?

I also used to like Gummi Bears. Another great show.

I had a crush on Gusto. Sure, he was a bear, but he was my favorite color, and all artsy and whimsical. Sigh.

What a dorky kid I was. Good thing I've grown out of that. ;)

And oh yeah, we have a new president. He's got a tough job ahead of him, that's for sure--but I think he's up to it. He's going to have to be. I hope he listens to everyone like he says he will. Promises are easy to make. Time will tell. I'll stay hopeful.

Eloquence personified: http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/11/04/mccain.transcript/

That's dignity, people. Let's take his advice and unite.

Rock the Vote

It is, of course, election day, and I have proudly done my duty and cast a vote for the next President of the United States (I actually did so this weekend, because I am lucky enough to be at work all day today). An undeniable sense of excitement permeates the air on days like this, because the opportunity to have even a small part in such a monumental decision is truly amazing, even if I am not particularly enthusiastic about either of the two leading candidates.

Today I am proud to be an American. It's wonderful that in this, in voting, we as a nation can all come together. I am proud of every person who today, in spite of the formidable weather, heads over to his or her designated location and casts a ballot. The fact that our predecessors were able to establish a system that truly enables the peaceful transition of power is astounding to the nth power. Just ask, well, any pre-American civilization. Ask Bloody Mary or Joan of Arc; ask Louis XVI, Julius Caesar, or Openchancanough; ask even modern leaders, like Laurent Nkunda, Hamid Karzai, or Aung San Suu Kyi. Sure, Americans have encountered bumps in the road (there was that certain matter of the Civil War and the subsequent decades of Civil Rights movements), but overall, we make it look so easy. I wish more people could understand that, and were grateful for it. I wish we didn't take it so much for granted.

That said, I will be so glad when this election is over. I, for one, have heard about all the campaigning I can take. I'm sick of the mudslinging (in all directions), sick of SNL, sick of regular news channels. I'm glad they so diligently covered the issues, because they helped me decide which candidate to vote for--but that doesn't mean I'm not glad that it's all coming to a close. I think I was almost to the point of overload, possibly on the brink of a frustration-induced explosion. I will be tremendously relieved to not hear anymore about the race for the White House. Finally, we will be able to move on!

So, for those of you who share my sympathies, and want to think about something other than the election for a few minutes (after you've voted, of course :) ), here's an interesting tidbit about a previous November 4th, courtesy of the History Channel's website.

November 4, 1939
The first air-conditioned car is displayed

On this day, the 40th National Automobile Show opened in Chicago, Illinois, with a cutting-edge development in automotive comfort on display: air-conditioning. A Packard prototype featured the expensive device, allowing the vehicle's occupants to travel in the comfort of a controlled environment even on the most hot and humid summer day. After the driver chose a desired temperature, the Packard air-conditioning system would cool or heat the air in the car to the designated level, and then dehumidify, filter, and circulate the cooled air to create a comfortable environment.

Air conditioning is my friend. Packard, you are an unsung hero. I salute you.

weekend weirdness

This weekend I saw the movie Max Payne. I had no idea what it was about, but there wasn't much to do, so I saw it.

Now, I understand that there are weird people in this world, with a lot of dumb ideas. I'm not going to pretend like I don't have dumb ideas sometimes, because I do. Dumb ideas are funny, they're entertaining, and goodness knows they keep me distracted in boring places, like work, or the 3 1/2 hour long line for early voting (that was another fun part of my weekend). What I don't understand, however, is how some weird people with dumb ideas can get millions of dollars to make a movie of their dumb idea. The word ridiculous doesn't even begin to describe my opinion of this particular movie. It was cliche (how do you make that little accent over the e?), predictable, and as weird as, well, a vegetarian vampire (team Jacob!). Actually, I take that back--it isn't as weird as a vegetarian vampire. That's strange enough to be interesting, and this was just strange enough to be stupid. There, I said it. I thought the movie was stupid. Let's just say that characters roared in this movie.

But that's just my opinion. My brother liked it well enough, though he wasn't exactly clamoring in line to buy another ticket.

I think sneezing is the closest people can get to roaring. Random, dumb thought, I know. If only I had millions, I could make a movie out of it.

All Hallow's Eve

Woo hoo! October 31st! Why is Halloween so dang great, you ask? I will enlighten you...

Yay for eighties hair, black cats, Harry Potters, and stealthy ninjas! Hoorah for grinning jack-o-lanterns, haunted houses, and spooky cemetaries! Yipee (I'm running out of excited expressions!) for mummies, pirates, and the chance to be a kid again! Yeehaw for the start of November!

And of course, a big whoopee for candy! Chocolate, please. :)

I really can't remember the last time I dressed up for Halloween (I'm just not creative in that way), but I love seeing everyone else's costumes, especially the little kids! They just get so darn excited! Dress up! Take pictures, and trick or treat!

I'm addicted to National Geographic, and of course they have an excellent Halloween article! Enjoy! http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2008/10/081027-halloween-facts-costumes-history.html

PS: Starbucks hazelnut hot chocolate = barf!

Spice Muffins

My boss keeps cramming spice muffins down my throat. It's true! She grabs me and with inhuman strength forces my jaw open, then shoves the muffin into my mouth!

Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration--but she might as well be! She keeps bringing the plastic container full of muffins (which she acquired from another department and did not actually bring herself) up to me, holding it right in front of my face, and saying "Take one! Come on, take one!" Then, she comes up again, minutes later, and says "Have another! Take one more!" When I tell her that I am not hungry, she simply repeats the action again, most likely in hopes that during the second-long interval that has elapsed since she last assaulted me that my hunger would have mysteriously increased ten-fold. So, I take the muffin, and I eat it, because I for some ridiculous reason don't have the heart to throw it away. Oh well, at least they're not banana nut muffins.

On another note, there have been entertaining conversations in the office this morning.

Co-worker 1: I wanted to make Halloween muffins, with spiders on them, but couldn't figure out how to make the legs.
Co-worker 2: Use liquish.
C1: What are you talking about, liquish?
C2: Isn't that what it's called? Liii-quisshh.
[it was later determined that liquish = licorice]

C1: We need some music in here!
C2: Yeah, so you can go ahead and bust a bruise!
[translation: bust a move]

All of my co-workers are bright and intelligent. It was just one of those days. :)

Thoughts on the coming November

It's Halloween on Friday, and that means November starts this very week! I can't believe how quickly this year has gone from April on (I'll be honest--my pre-Carolina days this year absolutely dragged). I don't know why it is, but once the calendar is flipped to November, I consider the year over. It's stupid, because there are still two entire months left, but it's what I do. Once you hit Halloween, things go full speed ahead straight on into New Years, and then we start the whole wonderful mess all over again (not that it ever really stops)!

I like the fall; I like November. It was always my favorite month growing up, a brief and novel respite from the balmly Carolina evenings, sweltering summer days, and sand-gnat infested Spring afternoons (are you supposed to capitalize seasons? I dunno...). I like the coolness of fall, and even a bit of the chill. I probably relish it only because it really doesn't last long here in the lowcountry, and never gets quite frigid enough to deter me from wearing my ever-favorite flip-flops. [ugh, my boss just interrupted me for 5 entire minutes--how dare she bother me with trivial things pertaining to work when I'm busy with my oh-so-important first blog!]. Yes, even in my youth November captured my heart because of Thanksgiving. It was always my favorite holiday, and still is. I wrote a paper about that very theme in the 5th grade (those were the days: What is your favorite holiday, and why; must be 5 paragraphs minimum-oh, how daunting!). I love food, and the absolute most glorious bite on earth consists of turkey, gravy, stuffing, and mashed potatoes all somehow crammed onto a single fork. Furthermore, for my child-self there was something wonderfully fascinating about the Pilgrims and the Indians coming together to partake in one of the few rituals that is found all across the vast cultural spectrum of the single human race: meal-time! It was a greatly romanticized tale of my youth, and I imagined a beautiful Indian maiden passing the maize to her grateful buckle-wearing new friend. Only later did I learn that things didn't turn out too well for the maiden, and that her Pilgrim friend wasn't grateful for long.

I wish childish whimsies weren't squashed by knowledge of the real world. Disillusionment is a bear, and sometimes I ignore it and and pretend it never happened, and act as though the world is mostly right. It's funny, but in pretending things are good, they usually really become that way. How's that for a philisophical quandary? Oh, it takes me back to my high school Theory of Knowledge class (TOK, we cool kids called it), the same class during which I had the misfortune to plant my behind firmly on a chewed wad of gum (so thoughtfully left in my chair by a student in whatever was the previous class), inspiring a teacher-student bridge building experience with Goo-Gone (this was with the majority of the class; I was lucky enough to win a bathroom pass to scrape what remnants I could off of my awesome LEI jeans).

Anyway, I've gotten off track, but the title of my blog should have warned you. Happy Fall, Happy Halloween, and Happy November (almost)!

PS: Herman Melville got it all wrong--there could never be "a damp, drizzly November in my soul"--at least not as long as I'm here!