zeus & tarzan

a couple of days ago (as my family was killing me with their crazy antics) was when i finally made a complete list of everywhere i've been in my entire life. i made rules for myself, such as, "been there" only counts if i have stayed in the place for a long enough period of time to get a feeling for it, like overnight or more than once, because airport passings aren't good enough. i came up with specific cities, states, and countries... and figured that i have yet to travel to 30 states in the u.s. and 4 out of 7 countries. eventually, my sister and dad made lists also and kate helped me include every single town that we've traveled to in minnesota. kind of ridiculous but hey, why not? ah, there are so many continuously growing lists that i sometimes being to feel as if i accomplish nothing. these lists are fun... hobbies i would like to start (sewing, film, gourmet cooking) and when scott and i sit down and comment "oh, that'd be a fun job" to random random everything, but lists are also, somewhat overwhelming. i should stop them and have no failed, uncompleted goals. then i could begin each morning by congratulating myself on waking up.

today i really didn't have anything planned. whenever this happens, the day ahead seems very intimidating, although, i feel good knowing that i can fill up a whole day with nothing really at all. right now i'm at my future home, or at least, one of them. i'm house-sitting, which basically involves sitting around at their house, while pretending for the week that this is my own gorgeous place of modern wooden beams, glass railings, classy artwork and a spiral staircase. i'm also keeping their 2 fat cats alive, which involves food and scratching behind their ears. this afternoon i've been going through their CDs and listening to them one by one... johnny cash, bright eyes, elvis costello, alison krauss, yo-yo ma, van morrison, tom waits, beck, bruce springsteen, bob dylan... it should take me most of the day. i just finished reading "extremely loud & incredibly close" by jonathan safran foer, which i recommend because of its b&w pictures, 9-year-old humor and those few pages that had the ability to make me cry in public.

oh my goodness... what makes a good chick flick good: classic john cusak, light and dark humor, minimal amount of token cheesy moments. who's in the mood for a spam museum road trip?