Here is where I shall ramble on about whatever triviality pops abitrarily into my noggin. Come here when jonesing for inconsequential, stream-of-consciousness drivel.
...not much to say...and yet... I don't wanna just skip posting and consequently slip into some downward spiral of horrible neglect. (Ya ever notice how very little one ever hears about "upward spirals"?) Instead of trying to drum up some cohesive or substantial banter, I'm just going to deposit here the highlights of tonight's disjointed web meanderings.
I was looking at patio furniture on the Kmart site, trying to find the set that had caught my eye in the flyer a coupla weeks ago. I believe it was the Aberdeen Wire Bistro set.
Then--of course--I hit Facebook. Seems the novelty wears off around the same time you realize that none of your friends look at Facebook as regularly as you do. Hmm.
I found info on a board game Laura and I used to play the hell out of back in the day...
It was something like Hungry Hungry Hippos...minus the pro-gluttony agenda.
This launched me on a massive 70s/ 80s toys reverie. During which I fondly reminisced over--
[Fabulous Fred ] The Mego Corp was not whistling Dixie here, my friends. This game really was FAB. I found the one we had about 5 yrs ago and it was all covered in gummy battery leakage so I trashed it. DAAAAAMN.
Dolly Pops. We had this exact set. The dark brunette Dolly Pop was my fave.
Oh, also I'm racking my brains trying to come up with a name for these teeny tiny plastic dolls we had -- there were two (or we just had two, anyways) one had its house inside a plastic ice cream sundae and the other dwelled in a plastic Oreo. The dolls weren't 1/2 so cool as their sweet abodes...
Speaking of sweet abodes... behold....THE KENNER FAMILY TREE HOUSE
Perhaps I should clarify... it was made by Kenner (toy company par excellence in the 80s) no Kenners actually lived in there. Actually, I don't remember any of the li'l plastic folk that came with this set. I just remember that awesome, awesome pop up tree casa. Can you believe someone on eBay had bid $125. for one of these? Yeah,I know I just said it was awesome..but I feel it's--at the very most--$45 worth of awesome.
My toy ruminations somehow led me to the ad for this wackadoo game (which we did NOT have... pity)
It's a Dracula Gaaaaame! Wild. This is the first I've heard about Drac having any sort of finger fetish. I had always understood him to be a neck man.
Also found this goodness on YouTube...
Whenever I've sang this tune (yes, I have had occasion to sing this...you'd be surprised)(or perhaps you wouldn't!!) I always have trouble with the line "But bananas like the climate of the very very tropical equator" It's like they're trying to pack as many syllables into that line as they possibly can. 'Tis rather unwieldy. Plus the version I learned didn't have that last verse (about docs recommending bananas for babies) and it didn't have the bit where Ms Banana is flirting with the other bananas. Not sure that's officially part of the song. After the " You can put them in the salad..." line, I'm all pumped to launch into possibly the best lyric of the jingle : "You can put them in a pie-yiie.."but in this stupid version that is vexingly delayed.
I then went on to discover that the very rad Bananas in Pyjamas have their own website. I used to watch ol' B1& B2...back in college. Also went through a huge Spenser for Hire kick my junior year of college.
More findings from YouTube (not banana related)...
I told you these meanderings were disjointed!! YouTube actually has a spectacular array of drive-in intermission films. I spent quite a while browsing through that goldmine. I just love those for some reason. Kinda bums me out though that the only one I recall ever seeing at the drive-in is...
In fact, that is the very intermission cartoon that my local drive-in currently runs (as of last summer anyways...wonder if the drive-in is open for the season yet?? I try to go at least once every summer. This has really got me jonesin' to go!! And even jonesin' to try one of their questionable concession stand hot dogs too!!)
I just watched the Grey's season finale, and DAAAMN! My numero uno question is this: Is there definitely, for sure, most assuredly going to be another season?? Because if they end the entire series on that note of TREMENDOUS SUSPENSE, then I dunno what I'd do!! Possibly I would fly out to CA and track down Katherine Heigl (whom I'd consider personally responsible) and administer noogies to her lovely head until my knuckles went numb. No..actually that is NOT really possible. Where I able to scrape together the time & resources for a CA trip and then was able to find Katherine Heigl, I'm sure I would very fiercely give her a piece of my mind or if not fiercely I would for certain impart my viewpoint in a polite but scathingly aloof fashion. Although... if she would consent to introducing me to Gerard Butler I might let her off the hook (she's got the wherewithal to do it...they did a rom-com together... which, BTW, I wanna see even though it's obviously pure cinematic junk food)
After Grey's, I started to watch a bit of USA's Burn Notice but couldn't stick with it. I've wanted to get into that show--after all, Jeffrey Donovan is one hot piece of hotness and Bruce Campbell is just cooler than the other side of the pillow (he's great, ain't he?). But you know what deters me? That Gabrielle Anwar... for some reason, I find her very offputting.
You've heard the hype...and now you may behold them in all their majestic fabulosity...
MY NEW $3.24 SHOES!!!
Hmmm, actually, they are really more impressive in person. I swear!
Ok, to compensate for that letdown, here a few other things I'm diggin' (not footwear)...
I found THIS news story to be especially rad. It's bittersweet though, because it's awesome that he did that, but as I read on, it becomes clear that Wills and I are just not meant to be. I LOATHE Shepard's Pie. I don't care if the potatoes are fluffed with a fork, mashed with a masher or parboiled and double whipped by a magical kitchen hobgoblin, I just cannot stand the stuff. If that is the prince's signature dish, than I fear that renders us incompatible. Still, it's an awesome news story...and that's a testament to how very awesome it is , that I can still appreciate it after such a devastating disappointment. ..
And finally, this new addition to my faves bar is damned amusing..
I feel tardy announcing it now, but I shall anyways: I have considered the matter and decidedly concluded that the finest “Monday” song to kick off your Monday is “Blue Monday”. I think most prefer the original by New Order and that is a fine, fine song, however, I prefer the Orgy remake from the late 90s (mostly because I think the original’s a smidge too lengthy). It may have been previously reported by other sources that the Bangles’ “Manic Monday” is the best Monday song, but this is erroneous. Firstly, I feel that they are kind of misusing the word “manic” for the sake of alliteration, but that is just a minor gripe. My main issue with the song is just that I find it tiresome. Don’t get me wrong—I like a lot of Bangles’ songs. I love “In Your Room” and I particularly delight in belting out “Eternal Flame” (even though I do so abominably) So no one could rightfully accuse me of being anti-Bangle. Indeed, if there was to be a Mt Rushmore of Girl Groups made, I would lobby mightily for Susannah Hoffs to get her mug up there.
Ok, the other contenders (I wasn’t going to keep going on about it, but in the interests of thoroughness..) Boomtown Rats’ “I Don’t Like Mondays” was inspired by this awfulness, so that kinda ruins the tune for me. And “Monday, Monday” by the Mamas & the Pappas has a kinda sllloowwwwww pace and low energy that might lull me into slumber (not ideal for your commute in to work on Monday a.m.)
So, as it happens, I did listen to “Blue Monday” on my way in to work yesterday. And it just popped on in my iPod shuffle by happenstance, so that makes my hearing it all the more terrif. (that little dash of serendipity adds so much) And I was wearing a new outfit. Wearing a new outfit on a Monday can make Monday incrementally less foul.
I got outta work early yesterday to go to the dentist and get a temporary crown put in my head. Which is a good thing..in my book. If anything gets me out of work early, I’m all for it (with the exception of an airstrike or trip to the cooter doc).
The crown procedure was WAAAY more uncomfortable than the root canal, in my experience. I thought the root canal –by reputation—was supposed to be the innermost ring of dentistry Hell, but it was really not so bad. This temp crown install was a bit ouchy. Well, first off, I had a new dentist, and of course he had to be good looking. No, it’s not a good thing. I picture meself with my mouth open like that, I imagine I’m showing more chins than the Chinatown phone book. Maybe not, but it’s not a pretty picture either way. Add to this, the fact that I have some sort of small blemish just northwest of the leftside corner of my maw. Now this is scabbed over, and then plastered over with about 50 swaths of foundation, but when I crack my jaw open to an angle of 180 degrees…guess what else cracks? And bleeds. Oy. “Let’s dab some petroleum jelly on that so’s you don’t bleed all over the handsome doctor”. Ok, so the hygienist chick didn’t say that, but I did, in fact, get dabbed. All petty embarrassments aside, the worst thing was the 2 sets of hands in my mouth, and the end part of tamping the crown down into my gums that was a bit painful.
Oh and this office has little TVs appended to the patients chair, which initially I thought was SO rad. (listening to the no-nonsense wisdom of Judge Joe Brown is just the thing to divert me from 4 hands and varied power tools in my mouth) But after Punk’d came on, it seemed to me that the hygienist wasn’t quite giving me her 100% undivided. This made me question the wisdom of the dental chair tellies.
All in all, it was still better than being stuck in the office.
I’ll be stunned if this crown lasts until June 1 (when I’m scheduled to get the permanent ) It seems like I must favor the left side of my mouth when chewing. I never thought I favored a particular side, but now that I am instructed to favor the *right* side, and it’s proving to be such a colossal effort…well, it seems like I must’ve always been a left side chewer.. Also I can’t stop licking the crown and tapping it with my tongue. I don’t, rationally,think that’s wise but as the French expression goes, oh, ‘ow you say…uhh…the tongue wants what it wants, eh? (ha haa ha) Just kidding there--- to the best of my knowledge the French have no sayings regarding wanton tongues. But seriously, I could use one of those white cone collars they put on dogs after dog surgery…but a tiny one…for my tongue. Sure it might hamper eating and speech, but it would safeguard my crown plus it might help me drop some lbs and gain an aura of mystery ( theory being that decreased chatter= mystery….can you imagine the buzz about me? “Hey Dave…check out that girl with the big conical collar around her tongue…I dunno if it’s her wanton tongue or her powerful aura of mystery, but I’m finding her most alluring!!”)
Then last night I went for a walk around the block with my sister. It was a nice walk, and it smelled good—like lilacs and lawn clippings and campfires. I used this opportunity to break in my new sneaks. I had a sort of vexing experience trying on clothes @ Kohls on Friday night, so that put me in the perfect frame of mind to buy running sneaks. (of the mindset that a sure way to cement yourself to an initiative—for instance, an initiative to get more exercise—is to invest a li’l $$ into it) I always gripe that I can never find any good deals on shoes at Kohls, but I suppose that’s because I was always looking at the heels. These Nike that I just got… they’re $70 shoes but I got ‘em at $33. Sa-WEEEEET!
In other shoe news, I have the cutest new sandals on today. Lest you think I’m going on some gratuitous shoe-acquisition binge, I feel I should point out that Target had these on clearance for $3.24 (Target is mighty fond of using $3.24 as a clearance price—have y’all noticed that??) So, let the record show: it’s only because I’m finding these terrific bargains that I’m so damn shoe mad. I like staring down at them as I walk around. This seems like a recipe for calamity but calamity has yet to strike. These hot sandals (specifically they are shimmering, silver, snake skin esque Gladiator style sandles—sans the pesky lacing up the ankles part that generally makes me hate Gladiator style sandals) might move me to post my first ever self portrait on the blog. Just of my feet (but that’s somethin’). I have my camera on hand…whether I actually go thru with this or not depends on if I can find a private enough venue for the photo shoot. I don’t wanna have to explain myself when someone invariably sez “What THE HELL are you doing???”
In past posts, (or at least one that I can think of) I have shared my curiosity over the late 60s Brit series The Prisoner. The premise (read the 1st paragraph of THIS article, I'm too pooped to type it all out) has always intrigued the hell out of me. .. the whole thing seemed so kooky that I couldn't help but love it. I have long been toying with the idea of buying the complete series but the cheapest price I can find on that DVD set is approx. $50. That's too much moolah for me to shill out on a hunch. I mean, it seems like totally my bag, but I've never actually seen an episode.
Well, I just discovered that AMC has the entire series on their website!! This is undoubtedly to lure people into watching the remake of the show that AMC is soon launching (which I will probably skip, thanks anyway) But what a find! All 17 episodes--full length!! Huzzah!!
Now if only I could find Dark Shadows online (which I'm sure would be much, MUCH trickier to find in its entirety-- The Prisoner only ran for 17 eps, whereas DS was ??# of episodes and ran for 5years.)
Last night I hit up the BK drive thru...which is never as delightful in practice as it seems it will be in theory. I don't know about the outlying regions of other BKs, but here the aroma of flamebroiling wafts for about 2miles and it is DECEPTIVELY alluring.
Anyways, the aforementioned geek merit badge is on account o' me going for the "Collectible Star Trek Glass only $1.99 with the Purchase of any Value Meal!!" deal. Well, I'm rather indifferent to the franchise in general, but the new movie intrigues me simply because I am fond of much of the cast. (Simon Pegg, John Cho, Eric Bana, Karl Urban, and especially Zachary Quinto. It's funny how the dude playing the Cap'n seems to be the dullest casting choice. Sure, he's pretty..but he strikes me as being a bit bland) So probably my motives make me unworthy of said merit badge. But the fact of me owning collectible Star Trek glassware... that's at least a stamp in my Nerdsville passport...
Oh, by the way, even though I had my heart set on Sylar..er, I mean, SPOCK, I was given the choice of Lt. Uhura or Capt. Kirk. I went with the latter...
My alarm is set for 7am M-F. Last night, I re-set it for 6:45 am so that would allow me another hit on the ol' snooze button (I'm a snooze button FIEND!) Well, my bladder woke me up at 6am. I'm always kind of thrilled when I wake up a good while before I'm supposed to (at least a half hour) because then I get to enjoy the luxury of going back to bed . That's how much I adore slumber...I know, I know-- I have a problem. Anyways, I was getting back into bed and it suddenly seemed to me that going back to bed for a whole hour was infinitely nicer than just 45 more minutes of sleep so I re-re-set my alarm for 7am. Moral of the story? Don't fuck with your alarm clock that much. So I woke up with a jolt at 8:25am. Luckily, it wasn't to the sound of the office ringing me, I woke myself up (amazing). Mind you, I'm supposed to start work at 8am and I was a 1/2 hour drive from the office at this point. So I call in, sputter to the receptionist some lame lie about car trouble, but I'm fixed up and now en route wouldja share that info with all pertinent parties please and thank you. I'm not really sure she told anyone because no one mentioned my being late or my make-believe car trouble to me when I got here. Usually when I really do have an issue, everybody is so damn tiresome about bringing it up and making me rehash it. So I'm wondering if the receptionist is the only one who knows I was late this a.m. Oh, also, right after this phone call, I'm digging through my laundry bag for something to wear (note: I have yet to put in my contacts at this point) and I went with black pants & this sheer Pucci-esque print top. This top requires a camisole underneath it (which you may have surmised from the "sheer" modifier there) which I also grabbed. Or I thought I grabbed. When I went to get dressed, I realized I had grabbed a slip that goes down to my shin (I'm not really a slip sorta person, but this came with this sheer dress that I have jinkies, all this sheer clothing in my wardrobe...one would presume me a harlot if they didn't have the facts of the case!! Maybe it's not a slip but it might be a sheath dress...but I don't think it's meant for wearing on its own..I dunno...anyways, MOVING ON..) I didn't have time to be rummaging about for a cami --you'll recall the morning I had thus far. So --to make a short story long-- I currently have a dress in my pants. In other style news... I have a hair appointment at 5:30 this evening. I'm SO excited for the coiffure renovations...I've been looking pretty frightfully frightful.
We are at "the thin end of the wedge" in regards to my Facebook usage. That is an expression I picked up from Nancy Mitford's Pursuit of Love (an overall decent read...not much happens but the writing & characters are witty and oh-so-British) and I've been just dying to use it. It's a very Brit phrase, and moves me to ponder just exactly how prevalent it is across the pond. Back in my Thermadyne days, we had a division in Chorley England (wherever that is) and I had my coworker Laurel (who dealt regularly with that international division) question them about the phrase "Bob's your uncle" (an inconcise, but utterly charming Brit version of "voila!") and from that interrogation we learned that that particular expression is not all that popular amongst the British youth of today (similar to the word "dungarees" only being used by the 50+ set ...and me when I'm being intentionally dorky) So anyways, I suspect that "the thin of the wedge" is fading into obscurity too. But what wedge was I on the thin end of again?? Oh yes..Facebook! This a.m. I got a McSkillet burrito and that is like one of my faaave breakfasts (sadly) and as I experienced this little euphoric taste bud fiesta it suddenly occurred to me: I'll pop on facebook and write a declaration of love for the McSkillet Burrito on select friends' walls!! And then I actually logged in but then I instantly reconsidered: Facebook at work?? Are you MAD, girl?? So that's a bad sign, methinks. I mean, I have good common sense (as evidenced by my prompt backpedalling) but my self control isn't always (isn't usually) up to snuff. So yeah, like I said...thin end of the ol' wedgeroo..
I'm thinking though, that FB is definitely NOT going to totally supplant this blog. Which is kind of a relief, I feel, as I've grown rather fond of this ol' rag. I've hit upon 2 solid reasons to keep up the blog (in other words: advantages it has over FB)
Reason 1: Facebook homepage asks you "What's on your mind??" ...and then it stops you after about a paragraph & a half!! Y'all know that brevity ain't my bag. I'm always having to abridge my litany of "what's on my mind"... So it seems I need a space for non brevity... to yammer on if you will.. whereas FB is more for a rapid fire chit chat sorta thing, interaction...one might even say...social networking.
Reason 2: I constantly find myself compelled to post about something embarrassing. For instance...today when I was at DHMC for Excel classes (by the way, I learned all this stuff on Excel 2007 and came back to learn that we're not getting 07 at the VNA 'til next year. Bahh. I kinda dug it!!) and I was thinking how inconveniently timed it was that I would be beseiged by a mighty flatulence just when I'm going up to the big house for a class. I don't know why I was compelled to post that but I was. Also,I discovered ...around midday today...a big tear in the crotch seam of my pants. I guess it's a good thing I don't sit about all splay-legged . These things always strike me as inexplicably newsworthy. But it's not something I really want to publicize on FB (I will however, broadcast my love for the McSkillet B. I love McSkillet Burritos and I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!!) I know that putting it on the blog is publicizing it in a way, but that's going out to a controlled group of friends and total strangers and somehow I'm fine with that. But it's when unflattering info leaks to the ranks of friends of friends, & acquaintances, & people you might run into at Price Chopper that the embarrassment kicks in. Does that make any sense? It might not.. 'cause I don't always make sense.
My sister is a new Facebook convert and is mildly obsessed with it. So she's been on my ass for around 2 weeks to join up. Last night I finally buckled. I'm more than a bit disappointed with my resolve (or lack thereof, I should say). And mind you, this is after declaring at a party on Sunday that I was decidedly NOT a facebooker and proud to be the last holdout in North America. So, tell me: what sort of wine goes well with crow?
Hey, Laura can make with the FIERCE peer pressure, OK? Plus, she was raving about all these cool quizzes she was taking and I couldn't resist the lure of : Which Flight Of The Conchords Character are you? (seems I'm Jemaine) or What Color Crayon are You? Well, I've since learned the disheartening truth: that Facebook quizzes are carefully crafted by any random imbecile with their atrocious second grade spelling skills...possibly typing with their right thumbs & left big toes. In short: utterly MORONIC. Oh, equally moronic is the sending people Yankee Candles, and schmoopy anthropomorphic teddy bear snuggles, and drinks. Oh yes.. thanks ever so much for the mojito, perhaps if I'd drank a big pitcher of actual mojitos I could see the value in--well, no scratch that. Even completely pickled, I would find that idiotic.
But surely there is something good about becoming a cyber lemming at long last?? Let's do a li'l pros & cons break down shall we??
Well, wouldja look at that?? My "Pros" list is the longer list. I suppose, in that case, I shall keep an open mind...
Monday, May 04, 2009
I did get to watch “Little Dorrit” this weekend. And it didn’t end up raining, so it winds up a black demerit on my permanent record. By that I mean that it was self-indulgent sloth whereas, on a rainy weekend, I could chalk it up to weather-dictated downtime. That’s part of why I’m a big fan of the rain.
But anyways, back to Little Dorrit… I must read the Dickens novel now. At 14 episodes--totalling 452 minutes-- it seems like they couldn’t possibly have left anything out. But still, I *gotta* read it now, to be sure. I’m a bit irked, because I REALLY prefer to ingest stories not in that order. I’d much rather read the book, then see the movie. Now I won’t have any choice in my mental “casting”. Phooey. This cast was pretty excellent, (more on that in a bit) but I would just like to have a choice in the matter, y’know? The two storylines I feel were kinda unresolved were Tattiecoram’s & John Chivery’s (Jr.). For Chivery, who was so suparhumanly sweet & adorable, well ya just wanted to see him have a happy ending—shake off that broken heart and find some love (of the reciprocal variety). At the very end scene of the flick, you see that Tattiecoram opted to return to the Meagles’, but her return is not at all shown or explained. You never know if she got over her anger management issues. Her character was kind of ridiculous. Her frustration was certainly understandable, but still you couldn’t take her seriously with her being all petulant-acting & yelly all the time. Another reason to read the book there—see if Tattiecoram was written that way or if that was just that actress’s interpretation. And the character of Miss Wade seemed to have this great malevolent potential but they kind of glossed over her storyline. How did she know Rigaud anyways? Now Rigaud was a FANTASTIC badass. A fantastic French badass...he was excellent.
Another standout in the cast (for me) was Matthew McFayden...this movie made me a smidge smitten with him. It's funny--empirically speaking, he is not a handsome guy, but I always find him very appealling somehow. Like in the big love declaration scene in the 2005 Pride & Prejudice -- he's striding across this misty mornin' meadow and I'm like: DAMN--you can see Darcy's humongo forehead from 20 hectares away!! But nevertheless, I woulda bolted 'cross said meadow and tackled him. He just exudes this sweetness...or he's rather good at faking sweetness and then exuding that affected sweetness. Whichever...the end result is still twitterpation. Let's not forget he's British and big for starring in period drama flicks. . .both of these things are like CRACK to me.
Anyways ..in summation: hasten thee to Amazon, buy this movie!!
So, until I can get in for my crown installation (appt. May 11th) I have this freak abomination of a tooth where they did my root canal. Luckily, it's located off to the side a bit, so it's not immediately noticeable. No worries. It made me think though, that it would be sort of a hoot to have a tee shirt that read--
"PLEASE EXCUSE OUR APPEARANCE WHILE WE ARE UNDER CONSTRUCTION"
Well, I thought it a funny notion, anyways. And it wouldn't just apply to the very specific niche of people who are awaiting cosmetic dentistry. There a hundred (or so) different ways one could consider oneself "under construction". Might appeal to the huuuuuge segment of the populace trying to drop a few lbs. Or you could be for someone between dye jobs , who's plagued with hideous white hanks of hair. (relevant tangent: My own coiffure happens to be in a bad way right now, actually. Next week being semana de cinco de mayo, I might just sport a sombrero until my Thursday evening hair appointment. Note to self: see where you might procure a sombrero quickly and cheaply; preferably a sombrero that is *not* infested with the swine flu)
I was so pleased with my tee notion, that the other night I was trying to think of other things that would be good on a tee shirt. Well, I was driving at the time, and so mostly I was pondering this to keep me from nodding off and waking up amidst twisted Taurus wreckage in a ditch. I was not coming up with a damn thing until some Biggie Smalls started playing on my iPod and I thought maybe "I Love it When you Call me Big Poppa" would be good on a tee. And in my mind's eye, this hypothetical tee had a pic of Papa Smurf on it. Oh yeah, I went there. . . I have no fear of the MINDBLOWINGLY CORNY.
Bought some stuff from Amazon the other day...
For my niecies: What Do you Say Dear? What Do You Do Dear? (both by Sesyle Joslin) Animals of the Ocean, in Particular, the Giant Squid (Dr Doris & Benny Haggis-on- Whey) for yours truly: Little Dorritt DVD. I had DVRed some of this miniseries as it ran on Masterpiece Classic, but had missed an episode here or there, and YOU KNOWS I can't stand to watch things in bits & pieces like that. I like this stuff ab ovo and in its entirety. I am kind of rooting for a drab rainy day tomorrow so's I feel justified into settling down to watch this whole thing -- all 452 minutes-- in one sitting. We shall see...
Ummm--yikes. I think Rupert Everett was referred to Kenny Rogers' plastic surgeon. Y'know, from the extremist Let's-Make-You-Look-Ten-to-Fifteen-Years-Younger-and-also-like-an-entirely-different-person-Hoooooly-SHIT! School of Plastic Surgery. I wonder if it's not traditional nipping & tucking that's going on here but total head transplants. And the transplant looks a little too Madame Tussaud for my liking.
Behold the before & after--
In other surgical news --this one a bit less exciting and not yet covered by the tabloids....
I had a root canal today. It really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. My job, through the whole procedure, was to keep my mouth open (durrr) and avert my eyes from the surgeon entirely lest I catch a glimpse of what implement she was wielding. I did a good job. So did the surgeon. Everything went smoothly. Next up is a crown. Yeeee HA.
What the bluddy 'ell is the matter with Grandmaw Petrelli & HRG?? It is painfully obvious to any sentient being that their little plan they throw together at the episode's end is the absolute WORST PLAN EVER . Oh, I suppose Parkman's to blame too, but in his defense he was coerced, faced with beaucoup peer pressure, and seems to realize what a dumb idea it all is. Although, he should've used Parkman power on HRG & Angela, and planted a better idea in their heads. A'right, so if you missed it, here's the 411 (*SPOILERS IMMINENT*) Grandmaw Petrelli drops Claire off with her "dad", Nathan (really a shape-shifted Sylar) at uhhh.. wherever a Senator hobnobs with the Prez . The lobby looks federal building-ish but there are suites in other parts of the building. I'm sure they did specify the venue, but the overall stupidity of this episode's denoument was totally mindblowing and the memory of small details such as place names were the collateral damage of that explosion. So anyways..The real Nathan is knocked out in the bathroom of his own office. SweetPete finds him there and they hasten to stop fakeNathan. Meanwhile, Angela is fetching Parkman because she had some dream that he'd come in handy. I don't recall where HRG is in all this. Let's just imagine he was chasing down a Good Humor truck in order to procure a ChocoTaco... in which case we'll write off his total idiocy in this episode to brain freeze. Peter & Nathan arrive, Claire gets ejected from the room (quite literally) and is locked out while the Petrelli boys fight Sylar. When the doors open, Nathan & Sylar have flown out the window, Peter tells Claire that yes, he did get to absorb Sy's powers and they head outside to locate S& N. Once they exit, S&N fly back into the room and S promptly slits N's throat (yeeeOWCH!). Easter Island Head--finito (just when he was starting to reform too!) Sylar gets away, Angela & HRG find dead Nathan. Angela sinks into a terrible, despairing, blink-and-you'll-miss-it 2 minute morass of grief before coming up with an insanely stupid master plan. Sylar had morphed into a presidential aide and gotten into the presidential limo to shake hands with...BOOOYAH! Peter, who had morphed into a likeness of the Prez and stabs Sy with a syringe filled with elephant tranquilizers. Okay- I don't even know how he hatched that plan or, for that matter, when he had any time for plan hatching . If he came up with it all on his own, how did his plan dovetail so neatly with Angela's later plan, but then again, if he did collaborate with Moms & co. how could he also be kept in the dark about his dead bro (because it definitely seems that Angela, Parkman,& HRG are the only ones aware of N's death) But I'll not overanalyze that, simply 'cause the limo scene was pretty rad and really the best bit outta this whole cockamamie finale.
So, finally, Angela, Parkman, & HRG are in a room with dead Nathan and conked out Sylar. No idea where Peter and Claire are at this point, perhaps the ice cream truck has made another pass through the area. Maybe they're discussing over Creamsicles what a foolhardy idea their offscreen relationship was, how Sandra had said so all along, OY VEY-- if only they had just listened to her!! Anyways, back to the prone bodies of Sylar & Nathan with Angela & HRG nearby, conceiving monumentally BAD ideas. Parkman is persuaded to brainwash Sylar into thinking he was never Sylar, he has always been NATHAN. Sy's head morphs into an according Easter Islandish shape, and when he wakes up you see the Pacman powers have done their thang. Which is stunning, considering how very NOT impressive Matt's methods were. Dude chants something to the tune of "YOU ARE NATHAN PETRELLI. There never was a Gabriel Gray" once or thrice and that's all there is to it. Guess if one is imbued with THE POWER, technique is a nonissue, huh? And realNathan-- no idea what they do with him. They stuff him in a locker at the bus station, or maybe they compost him-- really, if they went over that aspect of the plan, I don't recall what was decided. Now the original shapeshifting dude died looking like Sylar. They pull that corpse outta Building 26, make believe it's the real Sylar and they put him on a pyre and have a big Viking funeral for him with mead-swigging, and yak-horn helmets and the whole dealie-o. Ok, I'm joking about the mead & the helmets, but they do burn him and stand around staring at the bonfire with varied countenances -Matt wearing a "I can't fucking believe I went along with that plan " face. Angela & HRG lookin' like "We've made the tough call for the greater good. Aren't we amazingly magnanimous in a morally greyish kinda way?" Claire & Peter looking vaguely pensive and, unbeknownst to them, super gullible. I don't remember if Hiro & Ando got bonfire invites...they WERE featured in this episode, even if I glossed over their involvement completely.
Well, I have gotta hand it to this trio-- covert body disposal, sneaking a body out of storage--their scheme might be asinine, but the logistics of it were quite an accomplishment. Either they're really slick, or Claire & Peter lingered over those Creamsicles for freaking EVER!! But they did it. So .. what...could **POSSIBLY** go wrong now?? Hmmm...quite the loaded question, that. This would be the first time ever Parkman has erased someone's identity and supplanted it with a new one? Hmm. Ain't it great that he's making his first stab at it when there's so much at stake? Have they even tested how long Parkman's Jedi mind tricks last? Now that might be a somewhat important consideration. You gotta love how they bypassed the simplest and soundest solution and went right for the most catastrophe-prone course of action imaginable. Go big or go home, eh?
My parents get the Carol Wright Gifts catalog. It's a peculiar melange of elements ,that Cdub-ya G (as I am apt to call it) . Like on one page, you have orthopedic shoes, anti-embolism hose , and a tray to hook on to your walker and then turn the page and you've got your vibrating erection rings, the "butterfly kiss" personal massager. It's all very Blanche Devereaux and to be honest, it makes my lunch reflux on me a li'l bit. Blecccch.
Nevertheless, the CWG catalog is just the sort of pointless, mindless light reading that is ideal for potty time diversion. You can engage in a fun game of "Ok, if I had to buy something from this page--what would I pick??" 8 times outta 10, my choice is whatever item of terrycloth apparel is offered. It seems to me (that is, it's definitely my perception-however, I've yet to conduct any scientifical research on the subject) CWG has more terrycloth clothes than any other retailer. I probably wouldn't leave my house in terrycloth clothing, but it is a terrific fabric for bumming around the house, I feel. I sorta love it. In other terry related news--I used to have a Turbitwist but I lost it. Waah.
Anywhooo, without further ado, here's some interesting crap I found in the Carol Wright catalog whilest reading it on the can--
Bumpits...or as I will think of them: FAKE MUFFINS. (behold: they have their very own snazzy-ass website)
This hairdo will always & forever remind me of my old amiga Shannon. I worked with her at an answering service my last year of college. Back then, I never saw her without this artfully crafted mogul of hair that we inexplicably called "The Muffin".
I don't know how these fake muffins would work. Their site makes them look SOOO ridiculously simple--which makes me all the more certain that I would somehow botch the install. I'm not sure why..but methinks it would be kinda embarrassing to have the plastic infrastructure of your muffin/hair mogul revealed. Because one is trying to pass that off as all hair, si? Well, it would be something akin to having tissue pop out of your bra. Not that I ever did that. I never! Oh well, fine...I did use to cut shoulder pads out of shirts and repurpose the shoulder pads as bra padding. But let it be known that I never wasted good Kleenex.
WHAT THE WHAAA? Is Carol Wright importing goods from Wonkaville? Or perhaps The Island of Dr Moreau? I'm stunned and intrigued...willing to gnosh on one of those apricots ... as soon as I see its seal of approval from the FDA.
Hubba hubba. Beekeeper chic!! Might I suggest.. . . buy a can of Off! and quit freaking out the neighborhood kids.
Oooh..additionals only $5.99 ea? Yes please!! Ebony- for when I'm a femme fatale synchronized swimming star, Cotton Candy Pink for being the quintessential girl-next-door. . .synchronized swimming star. Yes, I shall need a vast spectrum of different hues for make believing I'm Esther Williams.
Okay this next one I actually saw in person (in Shaws) . I'm stunned I didn't find it in CWG, since they are so very omnipresent in the grocery stores lately...
Oh come OFF it!! Even with my middling culinary prowess, I can manage to slice up a fucking banana.
Yep, I am a moron!! I posted my Administrative Professionals Day schpiel a whole day early. I have since learned that AP Day is always on a Wednesday (so it was today, not yesterday when I was bitching about it) the 3rd or 4th Wednesday in April, to be precise. I had it in my nog that it was yesterday because I was on http://www.thefreedictionary.com/ and looking up Apr 21st ('tis my habit to look up "this day in history" if I get a chance to idle over coffee in the a.m.) and I read:
So from that I inferred: April 21st=Adminstrative Professionals Day. That would be so much simpler, wouldn't it?? Moving holidays are a colossal pain in the arse!! Yeah, okay.. so if it was always 4/21 then some of 'em would fall on Saturdays or Sundays. Wouldn't make much difference in my scenario. Nobody remembered it yesterday and nobody remembered it today.
Boo frickety hoo.
Well, by way of compensation for totally futzing with your knowledge of April holidays, I shall give you 2 EXCELLENT reasons to pop some champers tomorrow.
April 23rd is the birthdate (and oddly, also the death date ) of one Mr. William Shakespeare. Yes, 'tis a day for celebrating the classics. Like Michaelangelo. Raphael. Donatello...oh yes. I'm talkin'....
Heroes in a half shell-- TURTLE POWER!! Oh and..it's official: the Guinness World Records people will take submissions on **ANYTHING**. I mean , that is pretty rad but, sheesh.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Happy Secretary’s Day!! Oops-my bad! They’ve not called it Secretary’s Day for some time now. They changed it to Administrative Professionals Day in 2000. That title was changed ostensibly in order to “ encompass the expanding responsibilities and wide-ranging job titles of administrative support staff” I think the true, but unofficial reason behind the name change is that “secretary” has become some sort of pejorative term. And I don’t really understand why. After all, secretarrying is good, honest work.
I don’t care if they call it National Lackey Day, I just want a free lunch or a delightful cash gratuity. But I can tell ya right now, that ain’t gonna happen. It seems nobody has remembered but me!! Tragic.
It may be indicative of what a massive hypocrite I am, but, as wholeheartedly as I support Administrative Professionals Day I am that *opposed* to Boss’s Day (that’s sometime in October) Bosses don’t need a special day…they get their arses kissed year-round. Maybe that’s why my higher-ups have “forgotten” AP Day…they somehow perceive that my esteem for them is entirely obligatory and disingenuous. But nevertheless…I’m a hardworking peon (really I am—and it goes against my true nature). I oughtta get a li’l somethin’-somethin’!!
Have you ever taken off your bra at the end of the day and had to stop and marvel-- "HOW THE HELL do I get so many crumbs in there??"
Umm..yeaaah..me neither.
I was wrapping up leftover pizza the other day and thinking about how damned nifty it would be if gift wrap manufacturers packaged gift wrap in exactly the same sort of box that aluminum foil comes in. The biggest advantage would be that the stuff would no longer be such a bitch to store, rolling around, coming all unspooled. You could easily stack your whole giftwrap arsenal on a shelf. And --bonus!!-- you've got a built-in cutting edge. Brilliant!!
Speaking of brilliant products... I shelled out $9.99 at Walgreens the other day for MIGHTY PUTTY. To me, that has always seemed to be the shining star of the Billy Mays oeuvre and I wanted to see what it can do. (Although Mighty Putty looks the most impressive, I've also been quite dazzled by his pitch for the Hercules Hook ..though I've not seen one of those ads for quite some time) Anyways...I'm wondering if I could use Mighty Putty to patch up whatever bit of my vehicle's anatomy that's leaking. Think it'll work? I'm hopeful...that Billy Mays has me believing that, had it been conceived around 90 years prior, Mighty Putty would have done splendidly for fixing up the RMS Titanic.
And speaking of that Mighty pitchman..I found this to be kinda chuckle-worthy:
I watched that video again and I'm afraid it's gonna take a damned exorcism to get that song outta my head now. It struck me that Arthur Brown is totally reminding me of The Master from ...
Except Master is not so much about singing & spazzy dancing. He operates much more slooooooooooooowwwwwlyyyy. But the 2 fellahs have very similar aesthetics, I'm sure you'll agree. If you haven't seen Manos, I think you should (mostly so that when I opt to bust out a Torgo reference in some future post(s) I won't need to waste a lotta time in exposition, mmmkay?) But if you do take my recommendation, you should definitely seek out the MST3K version because I imagine it would be quite intolerable without the hysterical 'bot commentary. Oh, also, I swiped that screen cap from a Manos recap on some website called the agony booth. It's a lengthy summary, but maaad funny. That website is a rad new find--I'm gonna go back there in a few and check out some other articles.
Today I went to the Christmas Tree Shoppe in Williston. Don't get me wrong, I do love me some Christmas Tree Shoppe (accordingly,I made a number of delightful purchases there today) but everytime I go there it's such an awful jam packed clusterfuck that I feel compelled to mow people down with a cart. That is the primary reason that I always grab a basket rather than a cart (nip that temptation in the bud, y'see?) Actually, I almost always get a basket rather than a cart-- in all stores. Then I tell myself: if it's getting too difficult to lug around,then you're spending too much money, dear. I call myself dear sometimes. It neutralizes the nagginess a bit when I'm giving myself direction.
Another thing about the perpetual chaotic mob climate of the CTS--I always hear somebody, somewhere in the store, breaking something.
'kay. Because I'm running out of things to say, here's a list of today's purchases:
a small quilted tote (a faux Vera Bradley sorta deal) paisley on an emerald green background
a really awesome coffee mug -- it's white and has an etching of Helios or Apollo on it doing the sunrise via chariot thing....I always thought it was Apollo that did that ride...come to find out it might be Helios...well whoever the mythical driver was I thought it a very cool thing to have depicted on a coffee mug (a sort of apropos scene, right??) Oh here-- I looked up the company & illustrator on the mug's bottom and they have a webpage I was able to steal an image of the mug's illustration--
A decorate-your-own-picture-frame kit for my niece Chloe
Vermont Common Crackers & Vermont Cookie Buttons (ginger flavor)
a 3 pack of tank tops
A grande Caramel Machiatto (mmmm!!) at Starbucks
(At Marshalls-) a scarf
(At Marshalls-) a kind of cool skirt that I kinda regret buying because I am having the damnedest time matching it with anything. The skirt is CHARTREUSE with celery colored scrollwork design at its bottom. I've not given up all hope, but so far I've found it practically IMPOSSIBLE to match that color with anything. Yes I've tried white and I've tried black. In theory, one of 'em should jive but neither looked quite right. Another thing about "charteuse"(just in general, not in regards to this skirt)--I've always thought that word sounded like it should describe some magenta-ish color and not any sort of green. I just learned on wikipedia that "Chartreuse is the most visible color to the human eye". Terrific. So when and if I ever find a top that looks halfway decent with it...I can wear this skirt jogging in heavy traffic. That's neat.
Yesterday I went to the dentist. It had been a loooong time since I'd been (coincidentally a loooong time since I've had dental insurance) though I shall not shame myself by specifying how long exactly.
Things I was thinking in the chair:
How is it ok for her to go at my teeth with sharp metal hooks? Would it be okay if I did that to myself? It just doesn't seem to be something one needs to go to dentistry school for...am not really noticing anything glaringly expert about her technique here. It's not as if I *want* to assault my teeth with metal hooks but it just seems like if I were able to acquire the proper hooks I sure could save me a shitload of cash. Fuck, my nose itches. Fuck, my jaw hurrrrts! Oh, if only I were an anaconda, quite accustomed to unhinging my jaw to ingest antelopes for my lunch...then this wouldn't be such a trial. Snakes might make great dental patients, it's a shame they've no real need for dentistry. I've always felt like I have a rather smallish mouth and a ginormo tongue that's too big and fat for its allocated space. I feel like that's been confirmed here today. My tongue is SO in the way. But I feel sort of validated. Do most other peoples' tongues fit properly inside their mouths?
Yeah, it didn't all make sense, my musings. When I get uncomfortable, I am VERY excessively locquatious, in fact the term "verbal diarrhea" may very well have been invented for me when I'm nervous...well it very well could have been, let's say, as it's totally apropos for my behavior. Except yesterday, with my poor damn aching jaw locked at 180°, chatter was somewhat of a challenge.... so I just had to internalize all that jibbajabba.
But even with my jaw strain, and the metal scrapage, and the rivulets of drool streaming down my cheeks to pool at the base of my neck, even with all that unpleasantness, I'd still say the most horrific part of my visit was my little tête à tête with the dentists' business manager. Oh the suckiness. I am now Czarina of DEBTtopia . Congratulate me!!!
Today I kinda tarted myself up with a black & white polka dot dress (foxy makeup job...red lips, but of course) and these 4" black patent leather peep toe heels. I performed admirably on said heels, even managing a lot of the more physical aspects of my job (wheeling out a dolly to pick up a tower of UPS deliveries, unloading & unpacking those packages, lugging reams of paper around the office and filling up all the printers, etc.) But I have a very finite time frame on how long I can withstand heels --about 3pm, my dogs started reeeeally barkin' ,as they say. But still, I toughed it out for the rest of my workday, which, strictly speaking should have been another 1.5 hours but it was actually another 2 hours ( no stunner, that. Very rarely can I actually manage to get outta work at 4:30 like I'm supposed to . This is why I don't beat myself up about it if I run about 5-10 min late in the morning every now and then...well, honestly, about 3 outta 5 weekday mornings. This arrangement seems to be working out thus far. Of course, it probably helps that my immediate boss has serious punctuality issues of her own) Anyways, I lasted 'til 5 pm on those mega-heels, and as soon as I got to my car I switched over to some flip flops I happened to have in the trunk. So I start the car, and before I put it in gear, remember: Shit, I left a 1/2 a salad in the fridge in there! It was a really good salad, and I had planned to apply the leftovers to one of my weekend meals. So I go into get it, and *of course* I didn't change back into my heels for the trekk back inside.
Now possibly you'll recall the episode last month when I became our agency's first casualty of a more strict dress code policy (a casual casualty. HAA! Wordplay!!) One of the more explicit laws in the dress code is "NO FLIP FLOPS" But shit, this was a 30 second rescue mission and my feet were effin' KILLING me!!
So I'm heading down this li'l hallway to the kitchen and sense someone following me. I soon realize that it's Sheila, whose name I type in italics to infer that if I were speaking this anecdote, I'd say Sheila in a sneering manner saturated with intense disdain. Let it be known, however, that this Sheila is an exception, I only say the name that way in relation to her, as generally I like Sheilas. You've got the Australian slang connotation, which is nifty, and Kara, your mom's name is Sheila (probably you knew that) and best of all there's that terrif Ready For the World song: "OH! Oh Sheeeeila. Lemme love ya 'til the mornin' comes.." (oh, you know you wanna listen to it now...) But back to the awful italicized Sheila.. she is "Director of Quality Improvement" and my managerial informant told me (let us call him...Larry, why don't we? It is his name after all) that she is the driving force behind the Dress Code Crusades. And even if she wasn't the evil mastermind behind that, she still wouldn't be one of my fave peeps. So I'm walking down the hall, flippity floppity, headed for the kitchen, flip flip flop. And I'm thinking, do I address this dress code violation or not? The "or not" course of action probably would have been wiser (in retrospect) but it started to seem to me that it was not just a dress code violation but a BLATANT dress code violation, and Ohmigod I have never tread so loudly in my life how can she not hear this? The flip-flip-flop of my steps was like SUPERNATURALLY AMPLIFIED...just like Poe's Telltale Heart...except, y'know, applying to orange flip flops in this instance, so not quite so macabre.
So you know what I did, right? Or you have an idea...
I stopped, did an about-face, and gesturing to my feet, said "These are just for coming back inside to get something--for the record." I was looking for Sheila to give me a grin or some facial sign of acquiescence (as I knew it would have been "above &beyond" for her to deign to speak to me) but I got from her a TOTALLY BLANK STARE. And so I promptly banged a quick right into the kitchen and she continued to amble down the hallway.
I don't know how to interpret that blank stare exactly. One possibility is that she did not catch my footward gesture and was just perplexed as to WTF I was on about. I hope that was it. The other , very possible possibility is that I was perhaps less than guarded vis a vis my tone and inadvertantly gave a glimpse of my feelings about Sheila and/or her sartorial decrees. The unspoken end to that sentence was "...so don't you fuckin' DEMERIT me or whatever, a'ight?" But maybe I implied that just a smidge even if I never exactly said it.
And lastly, I discovered Arthur Brown today. Daaaamn is this post disjointed and rambly. I totally owe y'all some half way decent segues. Next post, I promise. But yeah, anyways, Arthur Brown...
I was trying to get some work done on this FSS spreadsheet (and ultimately I didn't get a damn thing accomplished on that, and of course it's due on Monday. GGggrrr) and when I'm trying to mentally get in the spreadsheet zone, I always plug some ear buds into the computer & listen to some tunes...it seriously does help, believe it or not. So I was tuned to the "Decades" channel of Accuradio, and suddenly someone shouts into my noggin, via my earbuds: I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE!! I thought it was some kind of between-songs sound clippy like they do on the radio sometimes, but no, this was the start of Brown's song "Fire". It's sorta bizarro. I was definitely transfixed by it, but I don't know if it was in a good I-must-procure-this-from-iTunes sorta way or a bad this-is-gonna-give-me-recurring-nightmares sorta way. I emailed Paul and asked him if he'd heard any Arthur Brown and he responded that yes, he had, which didn't surprise me because that friggin' Paul KNOWS EVERYTHING. It can be vexing sometimes. And--oh yeah--he wrote (and, in the interest of justice I am going to log in to work webmail, so's I can copy & paste this) "Oh yeah- been familiar with him since High School, if not possibly late grade-school." A simple YES woulda sufficed...I mean, is it just me or is there something a tad smug about putting it that way? Still, I am glad I work with Paul...he may be a smug know-it-all and **massive** dork (remind me to tell you sometime about this oddball steampunk stuff he blathers about) but he gets my jokes and it's always good to have someone in your office who is intellectually stimulating. After the email exchange, Paul is telling me how I should really check out video footage of Brown if I can track it down, because the guy really put on a good show and when he performed "Fire" he was apt to wear a flaming helmet. And said helmet, because it was a sort of rough, homemade,creation was not insulated and the fire up on top of the helmet would heat up bolts on the inside of the helmet making the thing damned uncomfortable to wear. But to wear it anyways--such showmanship.
So for you, my lovelies, I have tracked down a clip from 1968 Top of the Pops showing this whack song and the fiery helmet. And you know, the video is, overall, so bizarro that I barely even noticed the flaming helmet. Arthur Brown has very uhhh...distinctive choreography. I might dance like that if I really was on FIRE, I imagine. But I recommend you watch the whole thing (even if you git scared!!) Because he breaks out the phattest moves later on in the song after stripping off his helmet & caftan. A sort of pop & lock- running man hybrid there at about 2:21-- I dig that. Anyways, check it out for yourself. (If you DARE..MMMWAAAA HAAA HAA HAAA!)
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I just e-filed my taxes tonight. I might not have procrastinated so damn much had I known that I'd be getting $$ back on state & fed. I can't remember the last time that happened. That fact gets a big "Say whaaa??" outta people, especially those who have an idea of just how piddly my annual income is. I think the faux pas was claiming 1 when I was at TDC. When I started up at the VNA I made sure to put a 0 on the W4 and it seems to have made all the difference. I'm not getting a GINORMO refund, but a nice li'l nugget. Maybe I should finally spring for that laptop I've been wanting.
Anybody game for making a carrot cake?? I made this one for Easter dinner this past weekend (except I chose to omit pecans entirely). It was really damned tasty, but the frosting was kind of a catastrophe. It tasted good, but it was not the proper consistency one needs to cement a 3 layer cake together. Come to think of it, I still owe my dad a dollar (betting on a holy holiday!!) 'cause I thought for sure that the top layer or top 2 layers would slide off the base while in transport in the trunk of the car. It didn't fall over as I'd predicted, but still the frosting was a runny mess. I sort of didn't let anybody look at the cake before I dissected & served it. The slices were presentable enough, and overall the cake got raaaaaave reviews. I just am not sure where I went astray on the frosting preparation. Ok, well I did make one glaring substitution... since the frosting was wicked unhealthy I thought I'd make it a smidge less sinful by doing 14 tablespoons Olivio margarine & 2 tbsp butter (instead of the 16 tbsp butter the recipe called for) Tell me, kitchen wiz kids out there--would that have made the difference? I think you should do this recipe (and do the original mega fatty version of the frosting) to find out. Don't you think we'll bond if we both bake the same recipes within a week or so of each other? C'mon!!
I had been reading a novel called Beautiful Children ,--it was my lunch break book...a lunch hour read is an absolute must, because nothing is more detrimental to good digestion then having to make horrid small talk with coworkers. Honestly, I wasn't enjoying it all that much, but I do try to be conscientious about finishing what novels I start. So I'm maaad frustrated that, 2 thin chapters away from the end, I have lost the book. I was holding off getting a replacement read for my lunch break 'cause I thought I might stumble across it somewhere or another, but it's been a week with no trace of Beautiful Children. So I caved and last night went to Encore! Books. I bought this Nancy Mitford compendium: The Pursuit of Love + Love in a Cold Climateand also The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. One of the characters in the latter is "the large, fast-talking, vodka-drinking black tom cat Behemoth" (so sez the jacket copy). Oh, Bulgakov...you had me at vodka-drinking cat!! So, obviously, I'm most compelled to read Master.. but I think I'll read it in between the 2 Mitford works (by means of a sort of palette cleansing). I'll be sure to let y'all know if any of 'em are worth your while... Ciao for now, daaahlings!
I have my car back today. It’s especially sad because I notice it seems to have sprung some sort of leak. Well actually, a few weeks ago, my Dad had said somethin’ er other along the lines of: “I think your car is leaking fluid”. But I just today visually noticed it for myself. Seeing that little puddle of mystery seepage is waaay more disheartening, I think.
Today at lunch I went to Shaw’s and bought (among a few other things)a PAAS egg coloring kit. YES, I still color Easter eggs. Don’t you judge me. Anyways..they had a few different coloring kits in the case and one of them was a Transformers kit and there was also a Star Wars kit. OK, the Star Wars thing is kinda neat-o, but neither of ‘em are terribly Easterish. Anyways, they made me do a bit of a double take. So I went to check out, and I *always* use the self check out lanes , as I can be both antisocial and excessively self-sufficient (You know--“my do!!” like a 3 yr old) but today I went to one of the registers to grab me a 20oz Diet Coke and was spotted by the cashier there and he gave me this eager , puppy-ish “Happy-to-be-of-Service face” so I ended up bringing my cartload to him to be rung up. So, I dunno..the novelty of this scenario made me all chatty, I guess, and I sez to the guy I sez: “I came *thisclose* to getting a Transformers egg decorating kit. Because to me, nothing says Easter like Optimus Prime” So, this goofy remark opened up a whole can of worms I was totally unprepared for. Cashier boy laughed (as he ought) but then he’s all “I’m excited for the sequel this summer! The Autobots won in the last one, so they’re saying in the online forums that the Decepticons will probably win this time around. I think so too..” Okeydoke. I know Autobots=good the Decepticons are baddies, I haven’t seen the movie and Optimus Prime is the only Transformer name I know, so don’t geek out on me too hardcore there, pal.
Also I bought Rachel's Wickedly Delicious Cottage Cheese in Lemon Verbena Berry (my lunch today) and Orange Cranberry Pomegranate (saved for another day) --they don't seem to make a lot of different varieties, but the ones they do offer are tres gourmet. The other kind in the dairy case there was Pear Mangosteen. Which I didn't get on account of : what the fuck is a mangosteen? I did a little research this afternoon (I was EXTREMELY disinclined to work hard today...like even more so than on your ave. Fri) and found out that it is NOT a Jewish mango as I had initially speculated. So I was telling Paul about the interesting mangosteen and he reciprocated with tales of the exotic durian which is REALLY interesting. One food writer wrote:
"... its odor is best described as pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock. It can be smelled from yards away. Despite its great local popularity, the raw fruit is forbidden from some establishments such as hotels, subways and airports, including public transportation in Southeast Asia"
It's a spiky looking thing (when whole) and its innards look like:
Totally looks like avocado pit stuffed cabbage to me. Fascinatin'..
I made the yummiest ever Brussels Sprouts last night. I am going to try to recreate 'em for Easter dinner. I was sauteeing them in olive oil, with beaucoup pepper & a smattering of sea salt & parsley garlic salt. But then I quit with the sauteeing--mainly because I got bored with standing there at the stove (SLAVING over a hot stove, don'tcha know) so then I dumped 'em in my microwave steamer and steamed them for 8 minutes (about 3 min less than I would zap raw veggies). They were magnifico!! I'm surprised that I had leftovers for my lunch today!
Is cabbage (I believe brussels are closely related to the cabbage..after all, they look like wee mini cabbages) known to give people gas? After lunch , I was at Larry's desk (which is in the supply room..thankfully quarantined off from the rest of the office population) working on a project on his computer (it sorta baffles me how L has made his way up in the ranks while being such a total noob when it comes to computers. I suppose he has his strengths... not that I can come up with any presently..) and I was maaad gaseous. Let the record show that I was alone in the supply room--in other words, sans witness(es). Still, I kept imagining the fumes were being absorbed into Larry's chair. Doubtful that he would notice though...that room smells like sweat.
Today they gave away office furniture. On account o' that giveaway, I drove my Dad's truck in to work. I have to confess...I felt kind of superior driving that rig around. Probably to most folk it wouldn't have been such a big whoop, but when your everyday mode of transport is a total SHITmobile, you really feel the difference.
Two of our office's clinical managers are leaving. Tonight there was a little goodbye soiree for one of 'em (Bridgette) at the bar next door to the office. At Deb's request , I designed e-invites for a goodbye potluck lunch (noon tomorrow), and decorated the T-shirt that the office signed for her (Deb wanted the word "hag" on the front--little managerial inside joke there-- but in some decorative way and she had no confidence in her artistic skills. Whereas I was pretty cocky about mine...and had to go run my big yapper about it) and then at 3pm she's like "Oh we never got Bridge a card...can you doodle something with a Sharpie and we'll photocopy it onto cardstock and all sign it??" So I did--even though I was in the middle of another project and preoccupied with my chronic farting fits. But then I didn't even get to sign the blasted card (though I did sign the tee) and couldn't even go out to the soiree. I was invited, but I had a truck full of office furniture and less than $10 in my checking account (that latter had more to do with my nonattendance than the other, methinks) But if Deb had insisted on buying me a drink for being such a sport and such a crafty bitch (oh, that should net me two drinks, don't you think?) as she obviously should have done, then I would've popped in & hung out for an hour. So yes...I'm mildly peeved with someone for not volunteering a voluntary goodwill gesture that I subjectively feel would've been gracious & apt (and it just so happens it would come in handy...financially). I realize that's whack of me.
But I do hope Bridgette has a swell time...and digs her T-shirt. It came out faaabulously, if I do say so meself.
I know the famous expression is "Always leave 'em wanting more", but I don't agree with that school of thought. Nope, this is how I like my season finales: something tame and dull that makes me say, "Okeydoke, I'm over that show". Well, I'm over it until Season 3, that is. I don't know how they're going to top a prostitution secret. But I certainly intend to tune in to see 'em try.
Now, if they did a marathon of this season, I would perhaps tune in, just so I could try out this drinking game I dreamed up. The rules are so very simple: every time Scott W says "connected" "connect"or "connection" when talking to or about Maricela--take a swig of vodka. I'd wager you would get mightily schnockered.
To be honest,I was subversively hoping Scott W. would pull a Bachelor style shocker and do something really cad-like at the last minute. Y'know somethin' like "Hey you're a sweet kid, Maricela and it's been real fun, but I've got a fiance waitin' for me back home. Awww, you thought I was bein' FOR REALS?? How cute.." But nope, he was perfectly amiable right up until the very end. Oh, ok, so there was that blink-and-you'll-miss-it tiff at prom, but that hardly counts. Maricela diffused that row with some nonsensical gobbledygook ie: "This is me. You know me. This is what I am giving to you- myself, my character. You know my character." Wow, if M truly does have experience screwing people for $$, combine that with her genius rhetoric and she could have a successful future as a trial lawyer. Really, I wound up finding Maricela really tiresome . Which is funny, since I hazily recall that at one point in this season I actually did like her, and I'm not exactly sure what happened to change my opinion. I think I was irked by all the vague jibbajabba that comes out of her mouth. I mean, at least when Jessica is talking nonsense talk, it's amusing. Speaking of which, her little soliloquy about her gay solidarity with the swan--priceless yuks--the absolute highlight of this episode for me. But Maricela, on the other hand, only spouts these BORING platitudes--It's nice to make a connection with someone you can talk to. Integrity and character are really important ! Oh gosh, Maricela you're SO wise, I feel like I've just watched a One to Grow On, I've learned so much here today.I mean, this whole season was a lot of the alums spouting platitudes, so for Maricela to stand out for that...WOW. She is really excelling- albeit in a negative way. Anywhoodle, I hope Scott W's infamous **connection** with Maricela disintegrates immediately if not sooner and he can go back to being a cool guy and she can go back to hooking...or pseudo-hooking or whatever it is she does that gets her accused of prostitution.
The other unintentionally hilarious bit-- Drew's voice getting all crickledy-crackledy like Joe Cocker at the end of You Are So Beautiful . It was when he was talking about some really epic life lessons he had gotten out of the reunion. I couldn't accurately relate to you the wisdom of Cueball: it was somethin' or other about confidence blah yadda blah blah be yourself etc...it didn't exactly snag my attention until he started to get all wussy-assed and weepy at the end there.
I'm inclined to think that it was not entirely Lynette's own idea to take Drew to the prom. Her asking Drew, Dennis asking Sholonda...how neat and pat it all worked out and how neon and obvious were all the marionette strings in this finale episode. Hey, maybe my jaded take on this is incorrect. I mean, maaad props to Lynette if she really did do that of her own free will. If she did, than no one can ever EVER call a snob again. "Saint" would be a more apt label. "O Superhumanly Magnanimous One" ...if it weren't such a mouthful. I hope for her sake that she was put up to it and that she got a nice cash gratuity for throwing in that smooch. Zoinks-- that was like, a prolonged smooch.
Now, I don't know if the show was so formulaic when on the WB (I never saw those shows) but I believe last season they also gave prom queen honors to the sad little chick who didn't get to go to the prom back in high school (and gave prom king to whomever escorted said sad little chick) I wonder if this is a deliberate HSR tradition (and if voting was rigged to facilitate this tradition!! If so, I am just outraged. OUTRAGED, I tell you!!)
But who needs to be prom king & queen when you can get extra days in Hawaii, instead? That's waaay better. And possibly Tom& Kara spent those extra days christening the reunion compound with mad monkey love in every room. Y'know I've gone on record (here, on my blog. That's a record of sorts, I suppose) as saying that there's probably a good reason Tom & Kara split up. I still feel that way, but at the same time I do feel happy for them. I'm sure their solo love-in was wonderful, even if I do think their reconciliation will ultimately fail. I can't help but be glad for them--Kara's likeable enough (in a tepid sort of way) and I just heart Mayor Tom. He, Dennis, & Chad tie for my 3 favorite alums.
Question: am I the only one finding Seth McFarlane rather dishy in his ads for Hulu.com?? Even with the alien worm emerging from his navel-- hubba hubba.
At the office, when I want to buckle down & work hard at my desk (usually on some damned spreadsheet or another) I plug in my headphones and try to zone out to some tunes. My 'net radio of choice is Accuradio.com. As I was botching some horrible project for Cathy today (I didn't even finish it, and found out late in the day that I wasn't doing it right) I was listening to their "Decades" channel (pretty broad genre there, unless you deselect some decades) and Whitney Houston's "One Moment in Time" came on. If ever there was a song for belting out, that is it. I had a strong compulsion to belt it out loudly and off-key (this happens to be the only manner in which I perform Whitney Houston).
Once I was riding around with my sister and I had the sadistic urge to do a Whitney Houston medley. I succumbed to this urge and thought it might get me shoved out of a moving vehicle. Still, the danger was worth it, as that may have been the musical comedy highlight of my life (thus far). Although I have participated in some pretty silly-ass duets. For instance, Laura and I perform a quite unique, and very, very memorable rendition of "Shake You Down" (originally by Gregory Abbott)
I gotta go hop on to iTunes, see if there's any new Flight of the Conchords podcasts for me to download...
Saw these guys perform this song ("The Ark")on Jimmy Fallon's show the other night and I became a bit smitten with it... I've been checking out more of their stuff, trying to ascertain whether or not my smittenness carries over to the band in general...
While I decide on that, check out this video. I'd say "enjoy this video" but it's uhhh..not so enjoyable. Well, let's just say it's a bit too heavy on the severed heads for my liking. But enjoy the song. I do!!
Last night I was running laptops back to our Randolph & Woodstock branches and after my last delivery, I stopped at Maplefield's in Woodstock. I find a lot of enjoyment (possibly an inordinate amount) in a high quality convenience store. You know, something with extensive & diverse stock that is laid out nicely & well executed. And Big Gulps ...there must be Big Gulps available. I LOOOVE ginormous fountain sodas. Quick soda tangent here... have you noticed ('cause I surely have) how if you get a soda at a small "mom & pop" type restaurant, 9 times out of 10 you get a beverage with a disappointing syrup-carbonation ratio? Most frequently, the result is a drink that's a little warmish and a lot flat. That 9-times-outta-10 might be an underestimate, really. It seems I'm always disappointed with my soda in non-franchise restaurants. Now, fast food joints-- blackhearted lard-peddlers though they may be, they always have their carbonation-syrup ratio shit together, I gotta give 'em that. See, that's why the Big Gulp is so rad-- it's the premium quality soda you get from a fast food restaurant without the temptation of getting a friggin' BACONATOR.
But before this soda rant, I was raving about convenience stores, si? There's a pretty decent convenience store in Springfield, VT that I always find an excuse to stop at whenever I hit that berg. It was a Blue Canoe but I believe it was bought out by Circle K, but I still call it the Blue Canoe, just because I'm used to calling it the Blue Canoe, since I have for years now. I actually rather like the notion of going to a Circle K, on account of Circle K's affiliation with Bill & Ted (and their Excellent Adventure... however, I don't recall any Circle K involved when they made their Bogus Journey ..) but nevertheless, I continue to say "the Blue Canoe". Now, Maplefields is even better than the Circle K Canoe. It's got a pizzeria/sub shop in there, a big wine selection, and beaucoup baked goods. Plus they did the interior with these nice hardwood floors and exposed brick walls. I kind of wanted to move in.
I really like to provide some sort of link when I rave about something (as a sort of: "click here for corroborating evidence!") And I thought I might find a Maplefield's website because it is a regional franchise (albeit a little one). But no dice. An interesting thing I discovered though, whilest scrounging about for an online HQ for Maplefields, there is such a thing as MAPLE SYRUP URINE DISEASE. I know, I know...another thing to worry about!! Look, if your urine reeks of piss (and not Mrs Butterworth) then you're probably fine.
..I **had** to stay up until 2am watching TV last night. Y'see, after I got me HSR fix, I got totally drawn in to this PBS documentary on Jim Jones & Jonestown. Maybe I'm a-gonna freak you out by saying so, but that is some mucho FASCINATING shit and I kept thinking throughout this thing: why haven't they done a big studio movie about this whole deal? Well, I feel a bit blasphemous (considering how many lives were lost in the Jonestown massacre) to call it a fascinating topic. Sorry. I do, of course, recognize that-- while fascinating --it's simultaneously dark and grim and horrific.
That's why, after watching that whole doc, I said to meself "Holy shit. I am going to have nightmares!!" And so I prescribed a couple hours of lighthearted TV diversions: Dinner Impossible on Food Network and Reno 911 on Comedy Central. Actually, I watched Reno 911 and then watched Tim & Eric's Awesome Show on Cartoon Network, but Tim & Eric's show is kind of funny but also kinda nightmarish in its own way, thereby undoing some of my good works, so that's why I had to tack on an hour of Dinner Impossible.
Also my eye is much, much better thanks for asking. It looks so nice and sunny out, it makes me lament the fact that I can't slip on my shades. Honestly, the capability of buying and wearing a wide variety of cheap sunglasses (*cue the ZZ Top) was the #1 reason I decided to get contact lenses. But now I am banned from wearing contacts for a whole week. I could wear shades, if I had the giant Tron, Roy Orbison-ish monstershades that slide over your eyeglasses...or if I had clip-on Dwayne Waynes. But I'm waaaay too fashion forward for one, and only Dwayne Wayne hisself can get away with the other . I'd rather squint than wear either.
I was going to post about this week's HSR episode, but then I was yakking back & forth w/ my friend Kara about it on email and got the sense that I had expended all my valuable insights (I was spent!) so I wasn't gonna bother. But then I got an anonymous blog comment asking about my thoughts on this past episode and I am always so tremendously THRILLED to find that someone out there reads this cyber-rag, that I couldn't withhold my HSR impressions after that.
But still...I am going to cheat (and yet confess to cheating right at the outset...because I do have qualms about it) and copy & paste my nutmeats of HSR insight from today's email discourse here. Be forewarned... it is the sort of stream-of-consciousness, unformatted format that I use for my personal emails...so yeah.... it's even more incoherent than my usual writing.
WHO elected Tom the Mayor of Reunionville? I guess he was a better emissary to go speak to Jessica than Octavia was, because O couldn’t manage to actually *say* anything in her Jessica conferences (just kept making her patented tight-lipped face of empathy ). And then when she (Jessica) came out to address the group, Tom was all “Well, speaking for everyone here..” and I was thinking (as I queried before) WHO elected Tom mayor of Reunionville? But still, I can’t criticize, because :a) I like Tom…he’s a sweetie and b) everyone did seem to agree with him ..so maybe they did elect him mayor in some off camera pow-wow (or probably just spokesman)
As for the mass forgiveness for Jessica… well I was kind of annoyed by that, and was missing classclownScott’s outrage and that villagers-with-fiery-torches mentality we saw a few eps back. And it was not so much that I thought Jessica’s tirade was soooo unforgiveable (it was amusing more than anything else) , but I think I was outraged more on Dennis’s behalf. I mean, what he did—whilest schnockered—was not ½ so bad as Jessica’s fit (in my esteemed opinion). Besides Dennis being drunk, we’ve since learned that he’s pretty stupid (but, in his defense, VERY sweet. I was super impressed with his hall pass usage this week…if the producers didn’t put him up to it, that is ) For example, I had to chuckle at his input during the whole Jessica caucus: “Hey, whatever you decide, that’s your decision” GENIUS contribution, that. Anyways, Reader’s Digest version: I guess it’s ok that they forgave wackadoo & accepted her back into the fold…but for sweetdumbDennis’s behalf, I wish they hadn’t done it so quickly/eagerly.
I also thought it was lame that when Scott W. ( understandably) cut to the chase and asked the very clear question “WHAT IS THE DEAL?” In response, Maricela babbled a whole bunch of vague and obscure gobbledygook and Scott instantly acted like that totally clarified everything. I was like :WHA? I was totally dissatisfied with that nonanswer answer. I wonder if she really told him some actual factual stuff but it was off-camera or edited out. That’s the only way Scott’s reaction makes any sense. I do like Scott W. but that whole match up with Maricela smacks of fraudulent showmance and I think HSR producers think the viewers are like “Awww. Romantic. Sweet. Awwww.” but it just makes me sorta gaggish. But I could be atypical.
Still, I don’t understand why all her (Maricela) protests were so very vague. I imagine I would just say, in no uncertain terms: “I am **NOT** ---nor have I ever been --a hooker!” if wrongly accused of hooking (actually doesn’t happen to me too often). Still, it’s very possible, that she had some clear rebuttal that the editors cut, in order to cultivate suspense/ mystery/ ratings. I am rather wary of those wily reality show producer types, don’tcha know.
Oh, and some reality blurred article from last week had a clip of an extended Jessica wig-out scene and they wrote that in the clip (I didn’t watch it) Jessica said something about proof of M’s prostitution being on some website. Wonder what that’s all about?? My best guess: M did a stint at a technically legal “escort service” (which could very well have a webpage) and during her tenure at said service one (or a few) of her gigs turned dicey (the line between business date & personal date blurred somehow) and she accidentally got paid for “her favors”. So maybe Maricela was able to forgive J's allegations so easily because they were –maybe not exactly accurate—but not waaay off base after all.
In spite of him being smarmy…and dumber than a bag of hammers, I really DO like Dennis. Actually, I would like to see Dennis get some love.. hook up with somebody on the show…not Kara. I would like to see him fall in to some unlikely arbitrary romantic entanglement. Sholonda would be too pat, in a neat, full-circle kinda way …plus I think she’s married . Is Liz married, I wonder?
I suspect I’m in the minority here, but I hope Tom & Kara just decide to be better friends and don’t try to give it another go. I’m thinking there’s probably a good reason they got divorced in the first place and the whole reconciliation plot seems like a good idea mostly because they are more or less quarantined in romantic Hawaii. That’s pretty jaded of me, huh? But of course they go to the prom together…no shocker there.
I have a feeling that Drew does get another shot with Lynette.. something I saw in the season previews gave me that notion. Eww. Even if it’s just for closure purposes…ewww. He doesn’t deserve it. Creep. She’s exercised due diligence …and then some. She’s 100% off the hook. He should take Jessica to prom. She loves to natter on about sex. He likes to cannonball into pools all nakey. It might be a Loooove Connection.
I was going to post some schpiel about March 31st being an awesome celeb birthday day but I was busy busy last evening and then when I got some free time…I got sick. So unfortunately, I have to post this list belatedly— --BORN ON MARCH 31— Christopher Walken [3/31/43] Angus Young- AC/DC guitarist [3/31/55] Ewen McGregor [3/31/71] PAUL FROM THE WONDER YEARS! aka Josh Saviano [3/31/76]
Baaah.. Christopher Walken woulda made for a better big finish, but I opted to keep it chronological.
So last night, while I cooked dinner for my parents I did a load of laundry. Bueno multi-tasking, si?? I made a pork loin, potatoes au gratin, and steamed baby carrots. I was kind of amused at how I was listening to my iPod playlist of folk music as I cooked, and at the moment “Dixie” was playing, I was doing my damnedest to hack all the fat off this raw hunk o’ pork loin (Yeeeah…I’m not such a huge fan of “marbling”. I prefer to ingest my daily fat via ice cream, or in some other format where that fat is not so visibly lardish) Probably any authentic Southern cook woulda been appalled—if there’s fat on your meat—hallelujah! Slather some butter & Crisco on that fat!! So that struck me as amusingly ironic. That’s irony, right?? So after dinner I cleaned out my car. It was a long time coming. It wasn’t even “the works” as I ignored the trunk entirely (jammed to capacity, that trunk) and didn’t bother with vacuuming. Still it took me a looongass time to do it. Looks much better. I wrapped the car cleaning around 10pm and set for a spell to watch the DVR recording of The Mentalist and was mighty peeved to discover that only 54 minutes was recorded due to lack of space. It cut off right at a pivotal moment. I wonder if I can get that ep on Hulu or Fancast or maybe the CBS website??? Then I ironed my dress for today and ironed a shirt for my Dad.
Oy, I think it was the ironing that done me in. It’s uncharacteristic enough for me to be cleaning my car…but then add to that ironing which I never, NEVER do. It was just too much of a shock to the system…. and said system retaliated by giving me colossal tummy troubles. My Dad asked me if I ate anything I found in my car (hardy haaar), but NO, I did not, so it had to be the ironing. Damn you, corporate dress code!! There is nothing so reassuring, is there, as a steady grip on a plastic bucket when you’ve got torrential output at both ends. Bless my plastic bucket…I sprayed its innards with hot yarf 4 times last night. Oh lawdy, lawdy! It wasn’t the nausea that freaked me out so much…I was also getting cold sweats and lightheadedness. My Dad was very sweet and, at 4am this morning, he got up to smash the hell out of a dozen ice cubes (old skool style—plastic baggie & rolling pin) so’s I could have ice chips.
Anyways, by 7 this a.m. I felt fine. I hate to think it was something I ate (as that would imply a misstep in my stellar culinary preparations) so I’m going with “mysterioso stomach bug” as the explanation (even if one of the nurses here said it sounded like a reaction to something I ate)
It was something like Hungry Hungry Hippos...minus the pro-gluttony agenda.
Dolly Pops. We had this exact set. The dark brunette Dolly Pop was my fave.
WHAT THE WHAAA? Is Carol Wright importing goods from Wonkaville? Or perhaps The Island of Dr Moreau? I'm stunned and intrigued...willing to gnosh on one of those apricots ... as soon as I see its seal of approval from the FDA.
Hubba hubba. Beekeeper chic!! Might I suggest.. . . buy a can of Off! and quit freaking out the neighborhood kids.
Oooh..additionals only $5.99 ea? Yes please!! Ebony- for when I'm a femme fatale synchronized swimming star, Cotton Candy Pink for being the quintessential girl-next-door. . .synchronized swimming star. Yes, I shall need a vast spectrum of different hues for make believing I'm Esther Williams.
Totally looks like avocado pit stuffed cabbage to me. Fascinatin'..