Proust is getting the week off. This week’s QotD was stolen from The Motley Oklahoman:

List 10, local to you, restaurants you love; NO CHAINS (unless they are local places that have 1 or 2 locations, that doesn’t count as a chain).

…your daily dose of Teh Cute.

While browsing my photo library for the visual component to yesterday’s Price Tower post, I realized that I don’t post nearly enough pictures of my darling pups, which is why I give you:

Behold, it’s Sammy Davis Junior Junior (a.k.a. Sam’s Club, a.k.a. Spaztastic Sam’s) peeking out from one of her favorite hiding places – underneath the coffee table.

A couple of weekends ago, Dwight and I headed up to Bartlesville to check out the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Price Tower. We’d booked a room at the Inn at Price Tower (made famous recently by Christian Bale’s stay there), and planned to have a fun weekend of immersion in Wright’s architecture.

After checking in (more on our sweet-ass room later), we took the Tower Tour. I highly recommend this tour, if you ever find yourself in Bartlesville. You get to see areas of the tower that are otherwise off-limits to the public, like H. C. Price’s office and corporate apartment, both of which still contain period décor and furnishings designed by Frank Lloyd Wright himself.

After the tour, we headed back to our room, which officially ranks as the coolest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. Consistent with the rest of the building, there were very few right angles, which made for an interesting little space full of sharp, 30- and 60-degree angles.

The bathroom was tiny, with more weird angles (note the copper wall fixture):

The bathroom also had one of the coolest features ever – a heated floor. This was extra-appreciated when I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

Then, there was the bed. The comfy, comfy bed:

It was like a hug. The sheets, the pillows, the heavy duvet – all of it made me never , ever want to leave. Dwight practically had to pull me out of it, kicking and screaming, when it was time to check out.

This chair was so, so, super-cool:

As were the light fixtures (more copper):

Finally, the view  from our room on the 13th floor (yes, this is one building that actually has a 13th floor):

Really, my only complaint with our experience at Price Tower was with the restaurant, Copper. The menu was uninspired, and they were out of half the things on the menu. I ordered the pecan and cranberry-stuffed chicken breast, served with wild rice and baby carrots. Besides seeming like something one might receive at a conference luncheon (i.e. not very interesting), my carrots were basically raw. I was expecting something braised or roasted, not crunchy. Dwight ordered the filet, which was served with whipped potatoes and extremely puny asparagus (although I’m inherently skeptical of any restaurant serving asparagus in January – let’s go with what’s in season, people). Also, the maroon cloth tablecloths and fake candles were a bit off-putting – giving the place a kind of a prom-ish feel.

After dinner, we checked out the bar area, which was a gorgeous space. On our next visit, we’re going to skip dinner in favor of appetizers and drinks at the bar.

Despite that one, relatively minor criticism, I loved our stay at the Price Tower. I continue to be amazed that there is something this cool in Oklahoma.

66. On a recent expedition to Quail Springs Mall, I was dismayed (though not surprised) to find The Wrestler relegated to a small screen in the back of the theater, while two screens (two screens!!) were devoted to the oh-so sophisticated comedic stylings of Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

Redeeming Factor: The showing of The Wrestler that we attended sold out. That was a pleasant surprise.

But: Paul Blart was #1 at the box office for the second weekend in a row. Who goes to these movies? Are there that many thirteen-year old boys out there? Seriously.

67. Why would anyone bring a baby to The Wrestler? Violence, strippers, drug use, gritty realism – yep, sounds like a movie for the kiddos, alright. And while I’m sure everyone you meet finds your baby’s babbling and cooing most adorable, I don’t happen to be one of them – especially when your kid is distracting me from the movie I just paid good money to see. For the love of Jeebus, take it outside. Or better yet, don’t bring it in the first place. That’s what babysitters are for.

68. The next film on our weekend agenda was Rachel Getting Married at the Spotlight 14 in Norman. This movie-going experience was even worse than the last one. If there’s one thing more annoying than noisy babies, it’s people who feel compelled to add their own commentary track to the movie. It’s even worse when the offenders aren’t dumb, drunk teenagers, like you might expect, but people plenty old enough to know that the world doesn’t revolve around them. And here’s a tip for you assholes: if you persist in broadcasting your thoughts to everyone within earshot, at least have interesting thoughts. Making fun of the multicultural wedding, or questioning whether the movie “could get any more depressing” makes you look even stupider and more redneck than you already look for talking during a movie.

Redeeming Factor: The movie was terrific.

Fortunately, we had one decent movie-going experience this weekend (Revolutionary Road at Moore’s Warren Theater). No babies, no movie talkers. And a spectacularly dark movie, to boot. Anyone who thought Rachel Getting Married was depressing would be well-advised to stay away from this one.

Update 12:41pm:

For some more thoughts on the movies themselves, check out Dwight’s Filmcake.

I’m still waiting to find out that we’re all the victims of the largest prank in history, and that this whole Obama presidency thing is really a sham. The news this week has simply been too good to be true. My poor, confused brain can’t handle it. As Dwight so aptly put it, “this must all be some elaborate scheme by The Onion. My irony meter is failing to give an accurate reading. Help.”

My equally cynical friends and I have been exchanging e-mails all week about the latest executive order, or presidential statement – always careful to explain that “I’m not really shedding tears of joy, I must just have something in my eye.” Still, my little group seems to become less and less hard-boiled, as Obama steadily picks away at what the Bush administration left behind.

Each new headline seems jarring and surreal – like artifacts from that alternate reality I’ve been dreaming of for the last eight years. My Happy Place is becoming less a figment of my imagination, and more of a reality.

I’m having trouble adjusting.

First, there were the shout-outs to science and non-believers in Obama’s inaugural address.

Then, the news that Obama is closing down Guantanamo Bay and formally banning torture.

Yesterday, on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, came this statement from Obama:

On the 36th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, we are reminded that this decision not only protects women’s health and reproductive freedom, but stands for a broader principle: that government should not intrude on our most private family matters. I remain committed to protecting a woman’s right to choose.

While this is a sensitive and often divisive issue, no matter what our views, we are united in our determination to prevent unintended pregnancies, reduce the need for abortion, and support women and families in the choices they make. To accomplish these goals, we must work to find common ground to expand access to affordable contraception, accurate health information, and preventative services.

On this anniversary, we must also recommit ourselves more broadly to ensuring that our daughters have the same rights and opportunities as our sons: the chance to attain a world-class education; to have fulfilling careers in any industry; to be treated fairly and paid equally for their work; and to have no limits on their dreams. That is what I want for women everywhere.

We also found out that he plans to sign an executive order lifting the ban on federal funding to international groups that promote or perform abortions.

Then, we hear that the Senate passed the Lily Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, making it just a little bit easier to sue for pay discrimination. Because, lest we forget:

On average, women in the United States are paid about 23 percent less than men, while minorities receive even less — despite laws that mandate equal pay for equal work.

And finally, this headline from today:

Green light for US stem cell work
US regulators have cleared the way for the world’s first study on human embryonic stem cell therapy.

Where is Howie Mandel? Where is Ashton Kutcher? We’re being Punk’d – I just know it.

You know, I empathize with what the conservatives are probably going through right about now – I really do. I imagine y’all are feeling exactly how I’ve felt ever since 2000. You’re probably hoping this is all an elaborate hoax. The optimistic among you may be hoping that things won’t turn out as badly as you fear. The pessimistic may be stockpiling guns, ammo and bars of gold.

It sucks. I know. I’ve been there.

But, wow – does it ever feel nice to be on the other side. I can actually read the news again without fearing I might stroke out. It feels like everything makes sense again. Of course, being the glass-half-empty kind of girl that I am, I fully realize that sooner or later, there will be disappointment. But for now, I’m going to ride this calm, peaceful feeling just awhile longer.