On most occasions I try not to inflict my admitted music snobbery on others, but today I will indulge myself. For the 2 of you out there who really care about what I have to say about music, read on. The rest of you can go back to your surfing and come back tomorrow.

I just want to say to the music afficianados who bought into the hype last year and bought and enjoyed The Stroke's Is This It?, well, I completely agree with you. It was a good album that I thoroughly enjoyed....however, the time has come to put it away for a while and turn to another group of NYC moptops, Interpol. Turn on the Bright Lights, released by Interpol late last year, is everything Is This It? wanted to be and then some. I am by no means a music critic and will not begin to compare and contrast the albums, but I will say that everything I found lacking in ITI? I discovered in TOTBL. Thanks for your time. You can now go back to your Hail to the Thief countdown.

Fortune cookie findings:

Flattery will go far tonight.

Oh boy. The possibilities are endless!

Sing Sing update:

I wrote a very nice e-mail back to our buddy Karl:

Karl-

I was pleasantly surprised by your email. It's obvious that you guys take quite a bit of time and care to put together a good show. I've been to Sing Sing several times and can't say I've had anything but a good time. (Can you tell I'm feeling a twinge of guilt for being critical?) Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you guys do a great job of entertaining and I'm sure I'll be back again soon.

Regards,

Sara

I received this reply:

Hi Sara,

There is no need to feel guilty. The hardest part of our job is to keep it fresh and adding new material. We understand that there will be repeats. We talk about the need to always be working on new stuff at all of our staff meetings. I was just giving you a hard time. Hey, that's my job right? I have a great team of guys and I thank you for recognizing the hard work. The next time you come in please introduce yourself to me. I'm the one with the beard. Nice to talk with you. See you soon.

Karl

Quite courteous. So last weekend when we stopped in at Sing Sing, not only did they have some new material, but I also met Karl. We chatted briefly and during the conversation he informed me that he would not be e-mailing me again. (?) And not to worry, he was not stalking me. (?!) Not only that but he repeatedly assured me throughout the evening that he was not stalking me. It's like the kid that says, "Mom, just so you know, I didn't take any cookies while you were out...Just so you know."

All this leads me to wonder: Karl, have you had any restraining orders in your past?

This has me alarmed. We gave my friend Jenny a David Hasselhoff air freshener for her car back in high school. Does that make me devil worshipper?

Aagghhhh! ^ ^ (Sara puts fingers to head to mimic horns a la Elaine in Seinfeld.)

Last week I spent my tax refund. I am now the proud owner of a 32" flat-screen TV. I may be a mindless consumer, but no one can say I'm not doing my part to stimulate the economy.

Referral of the day:

Google search of 50th birthday trolls.

I'm not even gonna ask.

Just got done with my first night of work golf league. Good time. Except I'm the only chick. A little intimidating, but it's OK because the guys don't expect anything from me. In fact they'd prefer that I suck so they don't feel emasculated. So the pressure is minimal. ...and I hit from the red tees so that if I beat them, and I did beat a couple, they have an excuse. It's perfect.

Referral of the day:

Someone reached My Back Pages by searching..."golddigging women"? Who's looking for golddigging women? The version of Google used appears to be in some Scandanavian language, but I could be wrong. So, if you're a golddigging woman, at least there appears to be a Scandanavian out there who wants you, even if no one else does.

Well folks, we have a new record. Today I got a call requesting that I be in Virginia tomorrow. I need to board the plane less than 17 hours from now. For those of you scoring at home, that beats the previous record by 19 hours.

Apparently my employment is newsworthy. Boy, I don't think I'm going to be able to fit my head through the door anymore.

Words of wisdom of the day:

"Love is like a pot roast. It takes a lot of time. You've just got to be patient, let it cook slowly, and it will come out just right. If you try to rush it, you just end up with a burnt piece of meat."

-my buddy Boomer

Remember back a few months ago when I wrote about Sing Sing, the dueling piano bar? Well, earlier this week I received this:

Hey Sara,

I'm Karl, the Entertainment Manager and one of the piano players at Sing Sing. I saw your posting on a search of Sing Sing. We will try to learn some new jokes by the next time you come in. Thanks to you and your friends for coming to see us.

Crazy, huh? Sounds like a nice guy though. Although in his bio, he pretty much claims to be the fifth Beatle so it remains to be seen how much he can be trusted.

Regardless, it's empowering to know that my voice has been heard. Next week, I'm expecting to hear from United airlines.

Saw Pearl Jam last night. Unbelievable.

Very Intersting. I was going through the hits to my blog in the past few days and someone actually got to this site by searching the words "crusty retainer". Who searches "crusty retainer"? Anyway, it works. Check it out. I'm the #2 listing on Google for "crusty retainer".

How do you like them apples?

Yesterday at the airport, I was sitting there zoning out as I usually do after a long day of meetings when a kid (I use the word "kid" to describe anyone younger than myself), a teenager to be specific, stopped in front of me and said, "Hey, are those, like, blueprints you have there?"

"Yep," I replied.

"So are you, like, an engineer or something?"

At this I straightened up. "Yes, in fact, I am."

"Whoa."

That made my day.

Spent the weekend in Cleveland with my family. I had never noticed it before, so I don't know if last weekend was special or something, but there was nobody there. Seriously. Driving into Cleveland on Friday evening, I thought the traffic would be nuts, but once I got downtown there was hardly a car to be seen. I was a little nervous at all the quiet, wondered if maybe I had missed the Code Red to the Cleveland area or something. But then I thought, who'd want to terrorize Clevelend? There's nobody here!

I can no longer remain silent. I must speak out for the good of humanity. There are some who have a lot to lose and could be hurt by what I have to say. So if I disappear at least you will know who is responsible.

My message is this: Don't fly United. Ever.

I have flown United twice in the past two years and both times were extremely negative experiences. The first was about a year and a half ago when I flew to visit my friend Beth in Carlisle, PA and to go see Bob Dylan at Penn State. It had all the makings of a great weekend until...my luggage did not arrive with me. No big deal. I've had luggage lost before and it's been back to me in less than 24 hours. Inconvenient, but tolerable. But not this time. My luggage was lost all weekend, 60 hours to be exact. I called repeatedly, described my bag 348 times to 96 different people and still I heard nothing all weekend long. I was even forced to go to the concert without my lucky t-shirt (my "40 and Flawless" t-shirt that has seen many acts including Neil Young, U2, Eric Clapton, Radiohead and several other legends and has also seen Dylan on three other occations). So I got to the airport early Monday morning and inquired about my bag one last time. The guy asked my name, then went in back and came back with my bag, as if it was a coat check or something. Who knows how long it had been there, but United made no effort to get my bag to me or even contact me to let me know they had found it. Am I out of line in calling that inexcusable?

The second and final straw came last night. I was forced to fly United because my usual 5:50 flight from Dulles to Pittsburgh on USAirways was cancelled for the week. I was running late because I got stuck in a meeting and didn't get to the airport until about 50 minutes before my flight was scheduled to depart. I went to check in and the flight was overbooked and they had given away my confirmed seat. They gave me some sort of crazy story about it getting late and randomly giving away seats and me checking in "late". None of it made any sense and I was understandably peaved. I'd been up since 4:30 am, I had a lot of work to do the next morning and I just wanted to get home and go to bed. So I said, "Fine. Just get me to Pittsburgh. I don't even need a direct flight. I'll even shuttle over to Reagan National and fly out of there. Just get me to Pittsburgh tonight." No go. I was stuck in northern VA for the night with nothing more than a roll of drawings, my TI-86, and a ductulator. They booked me on the earliest flight out the next morning (I demanded USAirways), booked me a hotel, and gave me a free flight. They had to. I was about to cry. My eyes were welling up, my voice was wavering. They'd have to be stone-hearted jerks not to. So I set myself to handling what was dealt me. I crashed at the Fairfield Inn and got myself up at 4:30 am for the second morning in a row (wearing the same clothes the second morning in a row) with the anticipation of finally being able to go home. So I got to the airport and went to USAirways to check in and what do you know? United hadn't actually ticketed me for the flight and the coupon they had given me wasn't valid. Fortunately USAirways quickly remedied the problem but still...after the major screwup the night before, least they could do was make sure they had correctly booked me a flight home.

So the moral of the story, boys and girls, is: Don't fly United. Ever.

I just found this on Dave Barry's blog. I thought I'd seen it all.

I am tired and I can think of nothing to say.

Welcome my friend Miriam to the blog community.

Last weekend my mother and sister came out to the good old Butt-town to visit and say, "Happy Birthday!" What did we do? What any stereotypical group of females does when they come together: shop. It was a great time, of course. I can't think of one instance where I've ever been miserable shopping. But it was especially fun to finally see my mom cut loose and buy things for herself. She's quite picky, but I always knew that somewhere in there she had the ability surrender and just indulge herself. So I just want to say: I'm proud of you, Mom...and I found a necklace to match that new outfit of yours. Don't even try to resist. It's already in the mail.

Happy Birthday to me. Today I am officially halfway to 50. Yikes. No biggie, though. Birthdays aren't too exciting anymore. The only thing anybody could come up with to say to me today was, "Hey, your insurance rates will be going down. Cool."

Wow. I have reached the point in my life where my next exciting birthday will be when I get my AARP card.

Okay. I know I've been delinquent about posting and I apologize. No excuses.