apropos of anything

Borders emailed me this morning to tell me the cover art for the seventh Harry Potter book has been released. I couldn’t help it. I looked.

It’s not what I expected:

I mean, the book is called Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The pre-cover-art placeholder was all black with white lettering. I wasn’t anticipating a bright cheery yellow — almost golden — cover for this last volume.

The first three books have dark red/green covers, the fourth book has a dark green cover, the fifth book has a dark blue cover, and the sixth book has a dark green cover. I looked at the bouyant cover of the seventh book, and I wondered, is this symbolic? Does this mean the seventh book ends well? Harry doesn’t die, despite the rumors to the contrary? Or am I just overthinking it, and a yellow cover is cheaper to mass produce than a black one? (Because, as I learned as an editor of the erato, a black cover with white lettering is actually pretty expensive.)

In all likelihood, I’m seeing symbols where there are none. And for this, I blame Mrs. Dollander.

Because it’s late and because the weeks, they just keep getting worse as the year goes on, so much that I am almost ready to hand 2007 the “Worst Year EVER” award, and it’s only March. But. That’s why TBTT is so important: It reminds me that things aren’t really as crappy as they seem.

Click to go to the original Flickr photo.

1. Stealing your lunch (or as Dan calls it, running up a tab). Last week, I ran over to Ali Baba’s on Broad St. because I was craving some grape leaves. I thought I had eleven dollars in my pocket, so I didn’t bother to take my purse. I waited in line (because they only have grape leaves at the gyro counter, which almost always has the longer line), ordered a side of grape leaves ($2.95 without tax), and went to the register to pay… except that I didn’t have eleven dollars. I had TWO dollars. It was one of those wishing-the-floor-would- swallow-me-up moments. I told the guy at the register that I was sorry, but I couldn’t pay for the side. He had a conversation in Turkish with the other guy, and then he told me it was okay, I should take them, and I could pay for them later. I refused. He insisted. I refused some more. The other guy piped up that he knew me, it was okay, I’d pay for them later, no more arguing. I took them. Going to Ali Baba’s and back was my only free thirty minutes of the day, which meant it was my only shot at lunch, so Alhumdulillah for trust and generosity.

2. People who understand your righteous indignation. Y’all, I have been full to bursting with righteous indignation this week. So much so, in fact, that I’m a little surprised people around me haven’t gotten fed up and said, “Shut up, princess.” Instead, they’ve been righteously indignant with me, on my behalf. So while I am possibly due a “Shut up, princess” for still being indignant this late into the week, I appreciate their remarkable restraint and extremely well-timed “You’re KIDDING me”s.

3. Sleep. When you realize you haven’t gotten enough in about… three straight weeks, there’s nothing so beautiful as being able to climb into bed.

I saw this over at Baraka’s and found it so intriguing I did it for myself.

Many times it was hard to choose between pictures (like the art one, or the love one, or the holiday one) that I just picked something without letting myself think about it. Interestingly, I’d say the end result is mostly on target, although I have some minor quibbles with the “Dreamer” description.

I’d really love to try this again, more slowly, really thinking about my choices, to see if I would pick anything differently and how my results would change if I did and if I’d still find them as accurate.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

I skimmed over some of the other categories, and they aren’t really me, so maybe choosing without thinking was the best way to go. Of course, these aren’t 100 percent me either, so maybe people just can’t be packaged into bins.

It was fun to do, though. If you give it a try, let me know!

KEN IS QUITTING.

I… I just don’t know what to say. Who is going to threaten Burger Kings with me now? Do jumping jacks to distract the guy at the Bistro? Tell me I’m a dropout? Ask Dominique Wilkins embarrassing questions? Take my DVD player apart and try to put it back together? Call the NOC to turn off the light on my fishtank? Offer Ivan his spare longjohns when it’s cold outside? Discuss Speedos with Ivan and Carlos at lunch while I valiantly try not to hurl?

It’s just… very sad. We’re all very sad. And we’re channeling that sadness by telling Ken every five minutes just how much he sucks for leaving us.

I signed up for the 3-Day.

Chicago, not Seattle, because Aasif is doing it in Chicago, and because Chicago’s closer and I’m just going to have to settle for lots of sunblock and even more water.

I’m nervous — about the fundraising, about getting into shape — but I’m also excited because it could potentially be so awesome.

THANK YOU to everyone who’s already donated. I really appreciate it, and the Komen Foundation appreciates it. I know the commercials are kind of dorky, but this is a community fight, and it’s so awesome of you to pitch in and help out. If you haven’t donated yet — you know you want to! Like AB says, giving makes you pretty! And smell good!

If you have a blog of your own, I’d love a link back to this post, please. The fundraising thing is part of the 3-Day, but just as important is the awareness thing. Plus, the more people who know, the more people who might be willing to contribute to the cause!

This is number 74… because everybody knows somebody who’s been affected by breast cancer.

Because food is always, always beautiful:

1. Berries and berry season. I look forward to summer for so many reasons (baseball (duh), sunshine, Screen on the Green, the Shakespeare Festival, fireworks on the Fourth of July, etc., etc., etc.), not the least of which is the return of fresh fruit, especially berries.

The color and contrast in this photo is just gorgeous.
As always, click on the image to get the source photo.

Sometimes I think I love berry desserts more than chocolate desserts, shocking as that may sound. I certainly love making berry desserts. My mother would say the abundance and variety of berries is just another sign of the glory of God, and she would be right.

Click to go to the original Flickr photo.

2. Grapefruit. I know it’s not to everybody’s taste, but I love it. Dark red pulp, surrounded by bitter white pith, surrounded by yellow rind. How pretty is that? Martha uses them for sandwich cookies, and chockylit uses them in cupcakes (seriously, how yummy looking is that?), but they’re also great just by themselves, sliced and sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, or maybe just a pinch of sugar. I will eat them in the rain. And in the dark. And on a train. And in a car. And in a tree. They are so good, so good, you see!

3. Indians are passionate about mangoes. When I was twelve and went to Mumbai for my cousin’s wedding, we came towards the end of mango season, but my grandmother had stockpiled them for us. She’d set aside so many we couldn’t possibly eat them all, so I spent one afternoon with my cousins making mango jam out of the spoiling ones. When I was twenty-two and went to Mumbai just to visit, we came at the beginning of mango season, when the fruit was still mostly green, yet my mother came back from the villages with crates full of mangoes, all of them gifts from family who wanted us to get our fill of India’s prize fruit before we left for the desolate, mango-less American wasteland.

These mangoes are not Indian, I don’t think, but the shot was too
beautiful to pass up. Click on the image for the original Flickr photo.

To a man, all non-resident Indians attest that the mangoes available in the States (from Mexico) are “nothing” compared to what you can get in the villages of India. When given the choice, the NRI will always choose the mango-infused version of a food. Mango ice cream, mango cheesecake, mango juice. It will never be as good as the Indian kind, but they will choose it anyway because mangoes, even the inferior ones, are a temporary passport home.
In the end, I think maybe this TBTT was less about food and more about gorgeous photography… and of course, about the endless bounty of God, which is so large and amazing and beautiful we aren’t capable of fully comprehending it.