Today was my first day back to work after taking Monday & Tuesday off. So that was pretty distasteful, but I was wise enough to go in there with utterly abyssmal expectations.. . .expectations so low that even a shitty day would seem a surprisingly good outcome. That more or less worked. I Jedi mind tricked meself.

Lemme give you a Reader's Digest rundown of my uneventful days off before I move along to other mundane non-events. ...

• Saturday I met my sister for lunch at noon...it felt wrong to go to lunch so goldang early. What's next-- dinner at 4pm? I'm programmed for 1pm lunch, but even so, I can be flexible on the weekends. But noon is too too much...most egregious of all, I feel like it ate up precious sleeping-in hours. Later on Saturday I made the world's finest omelet. I'm putting it on my resume, I was so effing impressed with myself.


• Sunday...did absolutely nada.


• Monday, I had a scrap of a plan to scope out the Vermont Country Store in Weston VT. I'm kinda a big VT Country Store fan, which is totally bizarro when you are actually from Vermont, but go figger. I've been to the Rockingham store a dozen or so times (it's really not far from me) but I've never been to the original VT Country Store in Weston. So I was going to abscond with the Tom-Tom and make my way there. Buuuuuuut...I made up for Saturday (and then some) and slept in majorly and I didn't get primed, preened & ready for take-off until 2:30, at which point Tom-Tom informed me that the VT Country Store (which I still adore, even if I am tiring of typing its name)in Weston was 1hour and 42 minutes away from me, and since said merchantile closes at 5:30 pm I decided to hastily cobble together a plan B. So I cruised to a mall and indulged in a smallish spree and then went to the movies. Now this was not my first stab at solo movie going, but I felt like I was taking it to a whole 'nutha level by seeing a movie called "Date Night" "Date Night" was really good by the way, I'd definitely see it again. The plot was pretty unsurprising, formulaic material, but Carrell & Fey very capably made up for it. Both were hellah funny, and together they made an amusingly believable couple. Oh, and I now really wanna see "Get Him to the Greek" which was one of the previews (the bestest one) before Date Night . The trailer was SO funny that it does make me wonder if they saved any good bits for the movie. Also there was a trailer for "The A-Team" which almost looked good (y'know, for what it is...) but then Jessica Biel flashed onscreen and I wrote the flick off entirely. I can't explicate why exactly, but I have a fierce Jessica Biel aversion. And it's not that I want JT all to myself (I don't think that's it) I mean, he was with Cameron Diaz for quite a long time and I only have a mild aversion to her. So it' s probably not the JT factor. I don't know what it is. But she's ruined the ATeam movie for me without my ever having seen it and I do think it would have been kinda rad if, when working on the movie Valentine's Day, if she'd really annoyed Jessica Alba and that annoyance did a slow roiling boil into rage and Alba had gone into a berserker THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE (Jessica) Outlander-style break with reality and taken Biel out. ANYWHOOO...Date Night...good movie. If you can bear shilling out for something in shabby, old timey 2D, then I highly recommend it.


• Tuesday I took a friend out to lunch for her birthday. That was lovely. Then, in a last ditch effort for mini-holiday adventure, I bought gelato and a kind of wine that I'd never had before. That worked out well in the past with Gewurztraminer...which I bought one day just because I was enchanted by its big long kooky name on the label, but now it's one of my go- to wines. I bought Malbec yesterday and it's not half bad (it just so happens I polished off the bottle tonight) but beaujolais is still my favorite red (at this juncture anyways--I'm still quite the noob when it comes to vino) (Typing these last few lines called to my mind this skit...which I so love)

So I'm back to work, and I've begun a stint housesitting for my sister while she is driving the fam down to Florida. Suuuure, I didn't have to stay here, I coulda just popped in on the cats daily, but she has this big nice house , which looks so much bigger and nicer when contrasted with my wee putrid studio apartment. So, natch, I'm going to play at nesting for a week and a half. Oh, and her cable is 100 x better than mine. I mean, she has THE GAME SHOW NETWORK. Me wonders if they're still playing old Love Connections in the afternoons....if so, I may DVR those.

Tonight I was in the bathroom (don't fret...I am not going to get all TMI here. It wouldn't be waaay uncharacteristic of me, but truly, I'm NOT gonna) at the grocery store..in the handicapped stall and I spotted , mounted low on the wall right next to the TP dispenser---

it looked just like that. Would seem to be a doorbell, I 'spose but por que ? I was compelled to push the button and see what happened, but I was also running through the myriad disastrous possible outcomes of giving in to that curiosity. My first thought was that it was a "help-I've-fallen-AND-I-CAN'T-GET-UP!!"button and I wasn't really keen on the Shaw's bag boy kicking in my stall door like fecking Starsky, to ply my sorry ass off the scuzzy tiles.

Or--zoinks!--it coulda triggered an ejector seat.

Obviously, I refrained from pushing the mystery button.

I used to be a frequent viewer of Craig Ferguson’s Late Show, but once Jimmy Fallon got his show on NBC (in that same time slot) I switched over to that. I still like Ferguson quite a lot (he’s Scottish, ain’t he?) but I just felt like, in the interests of keeping my MUST-see-TV roster pared down, there COULD ONLY BE ONE in that 12:35 slot.

Since I stopped watching, it seems like Ferguson is coming a bit unhinged, which of course, intrigues me. He’s doing like, monologues via puppet and one recent show he eschewed the regular talk show format and had one guest for the whole hour (and a good pick too—the very cool Stephen Fry). But this clip I stumbled on to online finally convinces me that I MUST start DVRing Ferguson in addition to Fallon--

EPILOGUE TO MY LAST POST OF LAST NIGHT---embedding those vids (which, very annoyingly are slightly cut off on their right sides for some strange reason) has resulted in me having the song “Think About the Epilleptic Dogs” stuck in my head. And ya know how sometimes, when a song gets stuck in your head there will be one bit that will, arbitrarily stick harder than the rest of the song? Like in this instance, I keep hearing Brett belt out “Send a check and a letter to make a setter feel better!!!”

loooove...

Adult Swim's /Cartoon Network's new "Brit Block" programming is fabu, though I'm not really into the old eps of the original Office (even though I do like Ricky Gervais). Anywhooo, it was through the Brit Block that I've recently discovered The Mighty Boosh. I am very, very smitten. Their shit is f-ing hilarious, and I get the feeling that their great accents make it all 10x more hilarious. Well when I reimagine it with an American accent, it's still funny I suppose..just significantly less delightful. I dunno why that is. I shouldn't overthink it. I just love these guys...

I can't help but compare them to another terrif duo, Flight of the Conchords...

Both are a couple of comedic buddies, rockin' the delightful accents, both have that trying-to-make-it-in-the-music-biz premise in common. There are differences, of course. The major difference being the strong fantasy element in Boosh (shamen, the singing Moon, and tranny sea creatures, for a start) Also, the pals in Boosh really seem to adhere to the Ernie-Bert paradigm of friendship, whereas FOTC guys seem to be a pair of Berts.

I just love both shows/teams. And yet...I feel strangely compelled to pick a favorite.

Rationally, I know that I could just adore them both and there's no real need to designate a fave. I suppose there is just an intrinsic human proclivity to impose competition on like commodities. A hard-wired questioning of "Yes....but which one is BETTER??" This, you see, explains the existence of "Deadliest Warrior" on Spike TV and "Animal Face-off" on Animal Planet. BTW, that show on Animal Planet claimed that in a tiger-lion fight , the lion would win. Bollocks! I still say a tiger would triumph in that match-up (my sister and I have actually debated this several times, her arguing for a Lion-victory)

Well, back to the match at hand---I call that it's waaaay too tough to call. I shan't ever decide (it's like Sophie's choice!). I suppose I can leave it up to you all to pick my favorite. I will provide brief clips of each show --a wee taste of each brand of comedic brilliance--to give you some basis for your judgement.

The Mighty Boosh-- Vince is trying to talk Howard into a party for his birthday. He proposes a bouncy house at this possible bash....



Flight of the Conchords-- trying to impress a girl, Brett & Jemaine throw a benefit concert to raise awareness/funds to ease the plight of epileptic dogs...

losin' it

Today, I picked up a bus schedule and was perusing it with great interest. I've never taken the bus around here but the-ever-more-decrepit sloppy jalopy is giving me signs that make me feel like...well, like it would behoove me to familiarize myself with the bus schedule.

Lemme tell you about the symptom du jour. It started on April 1 actually, and I harbored a funny, irrational expectation that it would just miraculously vanish on the 2nd because--haaa!--the jalopy was April foolin' me!! Anyways, sometimes when I hit rough road now, or ride over a divet where a manhole cover is, my car makes a noise like kicking a toolbox. Kicking a toolbox full of heavy old tools, not the made-in-China Sally tools they sell in the poor excuse of an automotive section at Walgreens. But I digress... The noise seems to dwell in the front right corner of the car (shocks shit the bed, I'm thinkin'??) but it doesn't happen *every* time I hit a bump. Well, obviously...because it's more apt to drive me bat guano loco the more confoundingly inconsistent it is! Everytime it does happen, I look quickly into my rearview to see if I have a trail of clangy bits bouncing down the road in my wake.

So while driving from Point A to Point B nowadays, I have this impatient urgency to reach Point B. If the sloppy jalopy is going to die, I want for it to die in its sleep. I just will go to it, at Point A some morning, go to start it up and...."meeh. Nothin' doin', fucker" ...it won't go. But what I dread is that it will crap out, en route to somewhere... and it feels more apt to do this while I'm idling somewhere--at a stop sign, or waiting for the dude in front of me to turn. So I am wanting to be in motion as much as possible, and it causes me to be very irritable with my fellow drivers. So irritable, actually, that I'm losing all ability to cuss out other drivers with any style or creativity.

A specific example--I was behind a slow right-turner the other day, the type of driver that has been vexing me the most. I mean, even with my propensity for continual vehicular motion, I still don't fancy turning into oncoming traffic whilest executing a left turn. For that reason, I have a modicum of patience for left turners. They have damned good reason for their pausing. But you don't have to come to a complete stop and wait a full one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi before commencing your sllloooooowwwwww motion right turn..GAWWWW! So yeah, while waiting behind one of these agonizingly pokey right turners the other day, I hollered out, "MOVE ALREADY, YOU FUCK-FUCK!!"

I ....called somebody... a "Fuck-Fuck". "Fuck-Fuck"?? Undoubtedly, some of your finest quality epithets contain the F-bomb but... fuck-fuck? That's like elemental caveman profanity. I'm so disappointed in myself!!!

tunes

My iPod spit out some stellar 80s songs during my commute-home shuffle.

First off was "Vienna Calling" by Falco. I don't think this one was ever as popular as "Rock Me Amadeus". I love it though. "..Amadeus" probably is the better song, but I don't think it right that "Vienna Calling"is overshadowed. I think I just love pop songs in German. Further proving this theory-- I am markedly less into "99 Red Balloons " vs "99 Luftballons".

Speaking of ethnic 80s rock, I also listened to one of my more obscure gems- "Live is Life" by Opus. OK, so that particular tune is in English. But I always got the strong sense , when I heard it back in the day, that Opus was...uhhh, not of this country. In fact, I got the idea into my head that they were Greek, definitely Greek. I had never actually heard or read that about them...it's like they just struck me as Greek, and at some point I converted that impression into a cold-fact.

So tonight I look up the "Live is Life" video on YouTube and watching it, I think: "I thought these guys were Greek but now I see that they are actually SUPER DUPER GREEK" I mean, c'mon-- that crazy-ass gymnast lead singer guy, and that one guitarist (the one leading the audience in the up-high clap-along at 50 sec. in) How can those dudes not be Greek??



They're AUSTRIAN!! How could I have been so off base? But, Austrian? Really???? They don't look even slightly Cap'n VonTrappish !! But I read this on Wikipedia, and Wikipedia is super DUPER smart.

Last 80s tune I heard this evening was Depeche Mode's "Just Can't Get Enough". That is *such* a quintessential 80s song. I think it's the beginning, especially. There's a lot of 80s flava synth out there in the world, but I don't know that any tops the opening riff of "Just Can't Get Enough" for y'know...sheer eightiesness.

It's just as well that I'm enjoying my current cache of tuneage, since I am at an impasse with iTunes. 3310 songs should be sufficient, but now that I am unable to buy any new tracks, there's all these songs I want. For instance, I have been loving everything I've heard off of Vampire Weekend's new album Contra. And I've loved the song 1901 (by Phoenix)for ages now, but just recently figured out its title & artist .

Here's the deal with my iTunes-- I had my whole library on my sister's computer--kept there because of the speediness of her internet. But then they had some internet connectivity issues a while back, and there was twiddling around with their computer innards, connectivity probs were solved, but iTunes had to be reinstalled and the whole library..GONZO...well maybe the tunes are in there somewhere, but I'll be damned if I could find 'em.

My niece plugged her iPod touch in and transferred her purchases, so now there is a bit of a library on there--580 songs approx. But when I plugged mine in, the only option I'm given is "Erase & Synch" so I just hit "Cancel" and disconnected.

I did a bit of snooping about on the web and I think if I get a new computer ( I'm hoping to scrape together some moolah and buy a laptop) and download iTunes on that, I can use the tips in THIS article to get all my songs in the new library. (Just noticed, when creating that link, that the article I'm pinning all my hopes on dates back to 2006...that unnerves me a smidge) Until then, though--musical-spending freeze.

In the meantime, I'm going low tech... I was putting silverware away tonight and felt compelled to try and play the spoons. I got some kind of sound out of them, but I can't figure how anyone can manage any sort of tune on the spoons. (haa! Rhyming!!) Perhaps I just haven't watched that Soundgarden video enough.

I guess my only hope of jugband superstardom is on the washboard. It's gotta be a cinch to play the washboard. I can play a jug, but I don't think I have the lung capacity to really excel at it. Once upon a time, I bought a jaw harp on a whim but I've not figured out how to play it. It looks so damned easy on YouTube, but I've found it to be damned difficult!! I have taken to carrying this jaw harp around in my purse. I think the oddball reasoning behind this is that if the instrument is semi-omnipresent and often on my person, I'll be reminded that I need to learn it. If my life were a movie, the camera would have panned in close on that perplexing jaw harp by now and I'd be soon to get into some scrape where I need to beguile people via music to save my life. You know, the type o' scenario. It'd be like PeeWee staving off a biker beating with his brilliant big shoe shuffle (Tequila!) except, if it's my jawharp saving me, I'd prob'ly be in Arkansas and the menace would come from dirty fellers wearing no shirts under their overalls (ack!! phantom nipple chafe at the thought!!)

kind of a shocker, really.

..I mean it sincerely this time...no smartassery intended. McCarthy & Carey have split. They truly did strike me as a viable couple...

chicks 'n' tix

I was driving home tonight and spotted a yard full of chickens, sans coop, totally uncontained by any fencing...uber-free range, eh? Which is just delightful for these chickens, until they figure out that they are on a major class 1 road in the center of town, and they are going to find that out THE HARD WAY, brutha!! If one of those chickens toddled across the sidewalk and into the path of my vehicle, not only would I NOT swerve to miss it, I would take that roadkill home and fricasse the baaastid.

It's not so much that I'm bothered by the notion of vehicular poultryslaughter, but I am just perplexed at these people whose house is practically rubbing up against their neighbors', they have a lot that's 1/64th of an acre and they say, " Gosh, we've got a good place for rearin' up some farm animals here, don't we?"


No. No, you don't.


In other critter news, tick season is upon us again (so BE ON GUARD!) No, I don't get any special newsletters, rather, I came to this conclusion when I plucked a ginormo tick off of Boogerbear the wonder cat. So I had this fatty tick pinched between my tweezers and I was waving it around and doing a sort of impromptu show & tell but then I didn't really know the officially sanctioned S.O.P. for tick disposal. My dad said to just throw it in the garbage, but that felt wrong to me. My What Wouldn't a Horror Movie Chick Do? behavioral code kicking in there, perhaps. One ought to consider in every sitch what a chick in a horror movie would do, and do the total opposite, because horror movie chicks invariably make the most RUHtarded decisions. So, no thank you, I will NOT throw the presumed-dead tick in the garbage so it can sneak its way out and surreptitiously muckle on to me to later exact its revenge when I am least expecting it. I didn't just fall off the rutabaga truck this morning, brutha. (in case you's wondering, I am channeling Hulk Hogan somewhat, yes)


It just so happened I was in the garage with the bastard tick, a good venue to work my resourceful adlibbin' magic. I ripped off a bit of duct tape--roughly 2"x3"--and placed this, sticky side up on top of the bench vise , and then stuck the tick on one side of the tape. I folded the duct tape over the victim, and then I SMASHED him with a ball peen hammer. The smashing was superfluous, I suppose. I was avenging my poor, darling, supped-on cat. I then threw the square of duct tape in the garbage.

My sister said it's when ticks burst that Lyme disease is spread...so it's sliiiightly possible that I'm a big plague-monger, but I think I was pretty fastidious about the whole operation, it's unlikely that I'm guilty of Lymey-D propagation..

My aunt's cat is apt to be quite tick-riddled and she said (it was a big family tick symposium-me, my aunt, my sister...pretty fascinating conversationalists, our lot) that she flushes all ticks she plucks. Now that really runs afoul of WWAHMCD? logic. I mean, if you happened to pluck that very spiteful, greatly ambitious uber-tick...well, he'd have pretty spectacular means for revenge now wouldn't he??

Release the Kraken!!

Whenever I see ads for “Clash of the Titans” my ears perk up at the bit where Liam Neeson intones: “Release the Kraken!” There’s not much else for dialogue in the trailer (possibly that’s the only dialogue, I can’t completely recall) but they made sure to cram that phrase in there. It’s almost like…”For your consideration—the Movie Catchphrase of the Year for 2010. . .” And though I was thinking it has immortal movie catchphrase potential, its major flaw is that it may struggle to be relevant to everyday conversation.
However the phrase did pop in to my head this morning (I mention, at the risk of thoroughly repulsing one and all) as I was trying to eject a singularly stubborn deuce. So there’s that …but aside from scatological jests I can’t think of any apropos applications…

Yippeee Yi Yay

I remember watching The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour with my childhood pal Jenny. No, no, I'm not THAT old...this was a revival of the Smothers Bros show they did very briefly in the 80s (1988 to be exact). Still, it was over 20 years ago that I watched this and I remembered EVERY SINGLE WORD of the below song. Which makes me think that she had it on VHS and we watched and rewatched and rewatched the tape. I don't think it would stick in my mind for 2 decades after just a single viewing. It would make sense, us watching it obsessively as this is just the kind of funny that delights a 10yr old to no end. Well, OK...I'll admit it....I still find it pretty damn funny...




Jenny's parents also had a laserdisc player. It was a technological oddity even back then. She was the only person I knew who had one. So rad.

bizarre dreams

So I slept in until 11:30 am today, and it was one of those light sleeps where I'd periodically wake up, listen to the rain on the roof for a spell, flop over onto my other side and fall back asleep. Which is why I had a series of weird dreams (of which I can only remember scraps now..) because (if I correctly recall the sleep chapter from Psych 101) it's stage 1 REM sleeping when you dream all your dreams. I seem to always have my weirdest dreams in the morning anyways.

In one dream I had a baby and was taking her to the pediatrician and I don't remember much more about that.

Another snippet I remember was my friend Roxanne driving past my house and the police followed her car and yelled at her over a bullhorn that she has TWO flat tires and so she turns around and pulls up my drive and we go to get her new tires. In defense of real-life Roxanny, I do believe she would notice a difference in her car's handling and would hear the loud THWUMP-THWUMP-THWUMPING on the road and would *not*require a cop to shout at her over a bullhorn to notice she had 2 flats.

Another dream I had--and the one I remember most clearly (I think it could be that a spectator part of my brain instructed me "OOooh--this is GOOD. Remember this one!") was that I was having an illicit affair with Kevin McKidd which is weird, because it's not like I've just watched Grey's Anatomy, actually I missed the last Grey's and haven't seen it in quite awhile, well, a bit over 2weeks (oh..that's something to catch on ABC.com when I finish posting) In my dream, he wasn't the actor Kevin McKidd, and he wasn't Dr Owen Hart (oh, real life side tangent...kind of unfair that he doesn't have some sort of Grey's nickname. I suppose a Mc- something nickname might be played out, or it might prove overkill vis a vis his Scottishness, but he's going to feel like a guest star until he gets saddled w/ a proper nickname, don'tcha think?) but he was some doctor or medical professional because he worked with me at the VNA. And my having one of the few access cards to unlock the supply room came in quite handy. Anyways, later in the dream a group of us went to his house for some reason and I realized he had a wife....at which point the dream started to suck. If I could have just cut it off at the supply room...

LOUSY

This morning I woke up stuffy with a slight headache (nothing I couldn't have worked through). I froze for a minute, I was sitting there, a contact lens on my left index finger, seized with indecision. Once you put in the contacts, you know, you are officially awake--no going back. I was having my customary Monday morning, "UUGH! I should just call in sick!!" sensation that I've felt on 10 thousand other mornings. But this morning, I guess, there were just a few extra factors that tipped the scales (to the renegade side) I was listening to the rain, thinking what a damn fine soundtrack that is for sleeping in. I had a bit of a headache (so that the needed lie would have very tenuous roots in reality) . Plus, I had this lady from payroll accost me in the lunchroom last week to let me know that I had soooo much ETO banked (over 300 hrs) that I wasn't accruing it anymore. What an opportunity to make a little dent in that, right?

So I returned my lens to the case and called in to work. I kinda feel like, if I'm ALWAYS there and for the most part reliable (which I am...I think 300+ hrs of untouched ETO speaks to that fact) that it shouldn't be a black mark against me if I were to call in and say "I have some ETO to use and I just spontaneously decided to take a 'ME day', I felt like I would be much happier if this week were only 4 days long, so I shall see you on Tuesday!" No, I didn't say that. (OF COURSE I didn't!!) But I feel like I should be able to. What's wrong with it? Oh, there's something wrong with it if you do it all the time, but I think a few times a year is perfectly reasonable.

But no, this morning I said "I just feel LOUSY and I'm not going to be any good today. I will be in tomorrow" So a nonspecific "lousy" gives me some hours to deliberate over just what my malady was. A "splitting headache" sounds like a kinda wussy complaint, but on the other hand, I always use diarrhea/nausea , so I feel compelled to mix it up. Otherwise, my boss might urge me to go to a GI surgeon. Just jesting... I *really DON'T* do this very often.

Ohh...some other factors I forgot that make this a fine day for hooky. It's the birthday of 7th prez Andrew Jackson...who was a pretty rad presidente. He fought 13 duels to defend his wife's honor . He delivered a beatdown to the wackadoo who tried to assassinate him. He was like an action star for the nineteenth century. Very Die Hard for the powdered wig set.

Also...the ides of March. Maybe my inner Calpurnia thought I would come to harm if I went to work today. After all, that's how it worked right? (So sez the Bard, anyhow) Cal had the dream of Caesar getting offed and she begged him to skip work and send word he was sick. Caesar was too good for such a ruse and LOOK WHAT IT GOT HIM--- multiple stab wounds. Doesn't pay to be hyper-ethical, eh?

good news/ bad news

*I* always go for bad news first so here goes--

Corey Haim is dead at 38 yrs old. As I was opining to mi amiga Kara--it's one of those things that seems so likely to happen that part of me thought that it wouldn't happen, as if it was like, too probable or something. And so I'm actually extra surprised by very unsurprising news. And then my rational self is surprised at myself for being surprised...so it's double or triple surprising. I lost count. Yeah, I don't think Kara understood me either.

Corey Feldman is going to be stalked by "exclusive"-seeking press 24/7. Poor guy...I can't imagine he has the kind of $$funding$$ needed for Brangelina level security.

In my happy news (but not *my* personal news, at all...also it is not as happy as the Haim thing is sad, but I am pleased nonetheless) Last Comic Standing is coming back for a Season 7!! I so love that show. I had thought it was cancelled forever...I'm delighted to find out otherwise!! In and ideal world, we'd see Gary Gulman or Gerry Dee come back for a "Faves from LCS Past" tournament and win it. Jeff Dye & Sean Cullen were pretty terrif too.

CRITICAL COOKIE EPILOGUE

I couldn't just leave the question out there, I had to go nosing around wiki and I have returned triumphant. I learned that Samoas also came to be known as Caramel Delites and Samoas and Caramel Delites are actually coexisting. Well, I don't believe any troops are selling both Samoas and Caramel Delites (though there IS a slight difference--I'll get to that in a moment) but they coexist on a national scale. Wikipedia further elucidates--

"Samoas® and the alternate version, Caramel deLites, are the second most popular variety of Girl Scout cookie sold by the Girl Scouts of the USA. Both brands consist of a circular vanilla cookie about 2 inches in diameter with a small hole in the center, covered in caramel and toasted coconut and then striped with chocolate. This is one of the few cookies in the group that has differences depending on the bakery, which is the reason the cookies are sold under two different names. Samoas® are made by Little Brownie Bakers. They are circular, with an orange color and are thicker from top to bottom, usually they also contain more caramel per coconut, and they are made with dark chocolate. The Caramel deLites, made by ABC Bakers, are actually hexagonal, with a more yellowish tinge, are made with milk chocolate rather than dark chocolate, and more of the cookie comes through in the flavor because of the lower caramel content. Overall they are both very popular, and most people never notice the differences. Both varieties come in purple boxes. The two types of cookie account for 19% of Girl Scout cookie sales, making them the second most popular types. "

Now, my GSC peddlar was selling Samoas not Caramel Delites, but I'd like to figure out how to buy a box of each, just to disprove that author's smug "..and most people never notice the differences" assertion. Betcha I would!! I have a HIGHLY EVOLVED palate!!

I feel a bit bad...like with my copious wiki-text pasting, I have sucked all the mystery out of Girl Scout Cookies. Well, here's another cookie puzzler to ponder...I SWEAR I won't turn around and Google this in 5 minutes, I will leave it a total mystery for your pondering enjoyment.
WHY DON'T THEY SELL COOKIES AT MCDONALDS ANYMORE?? Their mini chocolate chippers were fairly decent, but I especially LOOOOOVED the McDonaldland kind. All the cookies looked grotesquely dissimilar to the characters they were 'sposed to represent, but that was half the fun...

I'm going to get mad controversial here and posit that the greatest Girl Scout cookie of all time is the Samoa. The masses love their Thin Mints , and I can't say as I'm averse to Thin Mints, but the Samoa is a VASTLY superior cookie.

Wasn't there a few years where the Girl Scout cookie powers-that-be renamed the Samoa? I'm pretty sure there was a brief era where my order was all--"OK I'll take two boxes of the caramelly coconutty--the--oh, they're the--umm, they used to be called SAMOAS".

Holy schnikey--you gotta be joking!!

Stunning news item du jour. The last time I was this shocked, AP had just broke the news about bears shitting in the woods!!

spacing out

Since I play my car tune-age so damn loud , it is important to me to have something cool playing when I drive through town...when I remember to pay attention to what's playing, that is. Today I was lost in thought and cruised through town blaring the theme song to Benson



There are a few TV theme songs that are cruising-through-town worthy. "Benson" is NOT one of them. "Magnum P.I." is fairly boss. Oh, and 2 of the coolest instrumental TV theme songs *ever* (the emphatic asterisks denote here that this is not subjective, I am now stating factual, empirical TRUTH)-- "Simon & Simon" and "Sanford & Son" I am going to email Danger Mouse and see if there's a mash-up to be composed there...

Well, anywhooo, speaking of spacing out (I am loathe to admit this. I am SUCH a fecking idjit !!) I pulled in to Texaco to get gas on Friday night and I side swiped the concrete guard that keeps people from hitting the gas tanks. So yeah, good news-- I didn't plow into a gas tank and explode myself. Bad news-- the sloppy jalopy has a monstrous gash in the back passenger's side door. I WISH I could plead drunkenness...but that was not the case. I was just driving, didn't have my head in the game, and wanting to pull up close to the tank (I am usually a bit too far away), I botched the endeavor entirely. Yeah, I pulled up close, alright. I said "FUUUUUCK!" and then I sat there, dazed for a moment, and was going to either cry or let loose with a litany of sundry cusses but then it popped into my mind how, earlier in the day, I was pulling notes from the file of a patient who is getting Hospice care from us, and I spotted that his birth year is 1984. AWFUL, I know. But it does give one perspective. I wound up saying to myself -"OK. Stupid. Yes. But in the grand scheme of things it doesn't fucking matter, eh?"

Nevertheless, it's still a smidge embarrassing when I get asked the inevitable "WHAT THE HELL happened to your car?"

Flaggy flaggy flaggy flag

As I mentioned recently, I'm not at all immune to silly humor. Quite the opposite, actually.

To wit, I am a big fan of this digital short---




Oh, you *sooo* had me at "Neo-Nazi Potsie flag"

UFS

I was picking the mail up from the mailbox at the end of our building today and I had a slightly oddball encounter. I was retreating from said mailbox and walking up the walkway to Dartware (one of our neighbor businesses) is this middle-aged fellow who, in one hand, has a plastic plate with a half sandwich on it (I neglected to note what variety of sammie) and with his other hand he was pushing a unicycle. I have seen someone unicycling in that parking lot before, but I don’t think it was this same guy I saw today. So I have hatched a theory that there is a unicycling cult at that company. I haven’t decided yet if they’re ALL about unicycling, or if unicycling is just a piece of their Core Values. They may be UFS (Unicyclists For Satan).

Anyways, I chatted with the sandwich-bearing unicyclist this afternoon, and he didn’t seem overtly Satanic. I jokingly warned him “Don’t you DARE eat that while unicycling! You could CHOKE. That is very dangerous.” And he said , “ I won’t! There is a lot of paperwork involved “ --or something like that, I’m paraphrasing, I hope I didn’t hear him wrong about paperwork (I’m 99% sure that’s what he said) because I then said “Oh, the waivers? Yeah, I can imagine…”

movies of my weekend

I had a restful, uneventful weekend. I wish it wasn't coming to a close. I know it's awfully trite of me, but still-- I LOOOOATHE Mondays.

I did a bit of reading (quite a bit, really, I'm almost to the end of The Children's Story by AS Byatt and that's a pretty gargantuan read) and watched some movies-- 2 of which, I found in the bargain bin at Price Chopper ($3.99-- what a coup!)

The Incredible Journey of Mary Bryant this is a period drama, so right at the outset I'm thinking-- right up my alley, y'know? But there was too much misery, & starving& rape & dying kids in this movie. It was very heavy, bleak affair overall. But it did have its redeeming points, the foremost one being that I only paid $3.99 for the thing. Also I like Romola Garai and she gave a great performance in this flick. And I find Jack Davenport to be rather yummy, in a Brit sort of way ( ..happens to be one of my favorite modes of yumminess!!)

In a very different vein, I watched Evil Roy Slade. I had, somewhere online, read about this movie. I can't really recall how I stumbled on to it, but it sounded like a Blazing Saddles knock-off...except cheezier. (Blazing Saddles done in the style of Top Secret!) So *of course* I was interested. It seemed like just the sort of obscure little film that would be public domain, but I couldn't find it to watch online anywhere. And it was fairly cheap on Amazon but once you combined that with shipping charges it totalled up to more $$$ than I wanted to shill out. So I sorta pushed it to the back of my mind, where it languished until I spied it in the bargain bin at Price Chopper and then I remembered I had been wanting to check it out. I'm glad I shilled out the 4 bucks--it's pretty damn funny. Though, you have to be tolerant of silly humor. For instance, one of the scenes that gave me the biggest guffaws, was the scene of singing sheriff Bing Bell riding in to town...




"Hello Mommy Nature!" I sooo love that.

sign #648 that I am a bad person

Grrrr...someone in the training class next door keeps coughing and coughing and coughing. … just a dry little cough, spates of two or three at intervals of like, every 15 seconds. I mean, surely, if it was a barky-bronchial sort of cough, I’d feel a twinge of sympathy. As it is I am *trying* to muster up some sympathy. But honestly , I’m just annoyed. I want to like, take a handful of lozenges and do a driveby (or, a “run-by” in this case, I suppose) and pelt her with ‘em, run away. Have refrained thus far…still straining to sympathize…

An Observation

Today I went on one of my frequent errands up to the hospital (bringing blood samples to the lab). I had to , uhh, avail myself of the facilities while I was there. It struck me as rather odd that an institution that has hand sanitizer dispensers two strides away from every elevator on EVERY floor, does *not* provide toilet seat covers. I’m not a stickler about seat covers (NOT one of those ladies that stashes a pack in her purse) but if they are provided, I generally partake (unless in the throes of an emergency episode, entering the restroom at a fast jog / run/ sprint) On the other hand, if they don’t provide…I’m NOT hover-squatting. F*ck that.

I mean I realize that no one is going to get H1N1 anally from plonking down on a grotty terlet. But isn’t a hospital supposed to be…I dunno…hyper-sanitary? Like, even more so than TJ Maxx?

Then again, maybe they’ve done their share of surgically removing seat covers from peoples’ ass cracks and that made them decide that triple cleaning the toilets was a better option.

three uneventful vids of not much happening

On Valentine's Day, sad sack singleton that I am, I volunteered to watch my nieces & neph so my sister & bro-in-law could have "date night". The losers wound up going grocery shopping. Oh well...


Here's me (behind the Flip cam) and the kids out partaking of the fresh VT air. I am worried that Sadie is venturing too far up into the woods and that worry is causing me to bellow unbecomingly (be forewarned) Also, I am not being nice to poor Seth, who is trying desparately to get his b-ball skillz captured on camera.

In this next bit, Lucy informs me that, aside from Seth's athletic skills (he IS an uber-jock) he's also pretty adept at deforestation.

Ah, well, of course, I'm paraphrasing that somewhat. See for yourself--

So, you think all that's uneventful, wait'll you scope this ... the other night, when leaving work, I filmed about a half minute of the early evening sky. No, no UFO sightings or anything like that, I was just struck by the blueness...how very intense GLOWY blue it was. Was diggin' the gradation of it---light blue horizon to a sort of navy sky overhead. I thought it looked like the skies of a Maxfield Parrish work.

I don't know how well all that translated on to "film", HD or no...

I was so chronically hagged out today, I could barely bear it. And I actually, miraculously, saw a cute guy in the vicinity of my office (no one I actually work with..inhabitant of the office next door). Normally, this would be a joyous occasion but today-- with my chapped face, my Mémère slacks on, ill fitting sweater, and tore-up, rolling-down knee highs--AACK! I very nearly dove into my car.

In other unextraordinary news of the day, my iPod surprised me with how very random its random shuffle can be--it played "Nightmare on My Street" during my commute home. That's right-- DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince's masterful foray into horror-comedy. Or comedy-horror. Well, to use the Crayola principle the dominant adjective comes second..(blue green is a green with a bit of blue in it; red orange is an orange with a soupçon of red).so ...horror-comedy it is. Anyways, that song cracks me up ("I'm your DJ now, Princie!!")

Every now and then I just MARVEL at the fact that "The Fresh Prince" and the poised, fairly handsome, big box office draw that is Will Smith are one in the same human being. Also, every now and then, I wonder if DJ Jazzy Jeff is quite as Jazzy as he was back in tha day. What is he up to? Does he ever think to himself--Hey..well, at least I got top billing, eh?

In a total musical 180, I was listening to a classical/opera/showtunes playlist last night (these genres are always in my "Top 25 Played" 'cause I listen to them nightly as I drift off to Slumbertown..or...if you so prefer-- Snoozeville) And I suddenly took notice of Carl Maria von Weber's "Huntsmen's Chorus". I guess I've probably heard it before, I don't know why it didn't strike me previously. I'm kinda smitten with it now.

the sloppy jalopy report

I've been driving my car with the check engine light on for nearly 3wks now (first blinked on & freaked me out back on 1/25). Stupid? For sure...though I'd rather spin it as brash recklessness.

I have noticed a sort of sluggishness in its performance, but this sensation is so subtle, that I wonder if I'm imagining it on account of check-engine-light-induced-paranoia. This sluggishness does seem to occur when my temp gauge is indicating that my car is waay cold. Cars just perform differently in the cold, right? Or it's not unusual for them to anyways...

So I'm driving it under the moronic notion that if the engine was going to undergo a catastrophic failure, it would have done so by now. I've considered cruising into Auto Zone and having them hook it up to the computer & read me a code but I've procrastinated on that because--
1. I'm lazy
2. Dread-- they may tell me (for like, the 3rd time) that it's just a bum O2 sensor which is no major deal...BUT they may also tell me that my car is on the verge of massive, multiple, cataclysmic, nastybad organ failure and about to incur beaucoup repair costs that I can't afford. I'm not tryin' tah hear that, Homes.
3. Just in general-- procrastinating's my favorite. No, it sucks. I know it sucks. But I do it all the time.

So I vacillate between white-knuckled,on-edge driving, expecting the car to shit the proverbial bed at any moment...and half-suspecting that it's just a no-biggie O2 sensor issue again. But everytime I think-- "Yeah...the car's ok" I rebuke myself for the thought. You know how lotsa folks rave about "the power of positive thinking"? Well, I'm a big believer in the negative power of positive thinking. A nutso part of me thinks that such a thought will instantaneously finish my car off. Another example: when driving in bad snow and/or ice, I will sometimes mentally assure myself with a li'l "Doin' good" or something like that, but then I quickly follow it up with: "DON'T be so self-congratulatory!!" To put it concisely- I'm a big believer in the possibility of jinxing myself. Not that I've ever done it... or that I rationally think that it happens... oh, shit, I wasn't all that concise about that, was I??

Believe it or no, there is something to be said for white-knuckled, edgy driving. I have acquired, in the last few weeks, a heightened sense of place. As I drive, I keep mental notes on where I am. Northbound on Rte 120, just passed the cross street of Etna Rd, approaching cross street of Lafayette. This, obviously, is so that when I phone for roadside assistance, I can clearly articulate where to come rescue me.

Also, I'm probably avoiding a lot of aural damage that I would normally be incurring. Usually, I am one to have my music cranked up to the max (to ELEVEN!!) --sometimes rattling my side mirrors, and always loud enough to cover up my singing (that is key) But I've been very uncharacteristically driving with my radio OFF. Y'see I've been straining very hard to try to listen to the under-the-hood innerworkings of my ride....I've even caught myself, when wanting to extra-listen, turning down the volume on the radio that's not on. I fully realize how kinda ridiculous I'm being. I'm not the freakin' "Car Whisperer",after all!! And all I can really hear, while in motion, is the loud thrumming road noise of my winter tires and the rattle of a box of white Tic Tacs I have in my dash cubby. Not terribly informative. But I listen extra hard when idling at a stop light, or letting it idle before I shut it off. And it sounds VERY NORMAL. I'm especially relieved not to hear "THUNKKK!" when I turn it off. I don't know why I'm specifically trepidatious of "THUNKKK!" but yeah, that stole into my head for some odd reason, at some point, and there you have it.

The lack of THUNKKK! & nonominous purr of my idylling engine is , I fear, slooooowly lulling me out of my High Orange Car Terror Alert status. This is bad, because the best thing about white-knuckled ultra-paranoid driving, is that when you DO break down at the side of the road, it's almost a fecking RELIEF. You have sort of a resigned sighing, "Ah well. It's finally done it now, eh?" sort of reaction....as opposed to the "AGH! SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK?" panic that will hit a driver of normal mindset.

In a totally, nonautomotive aside, it occurs to me that my run-on sentence rate was impossibly higher than usual in this post. Please forgive me my rambliness!!

movies in the works

There is to be a remake of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I don't fully condone the Hollywood trend of remaking everything under the sun . But it certainly beats another prevalent biz trend of spinning toys and board games into movies. I feel like, if screenwriters are running out of fresh new movie ideas, the next best option is to start adapting all the novels. Really. I mean--ALL OF THEM. It boggles the mind that there will be movies of LEGOS AND VIEWMASTERS (both in 2012, per IMDB. Oh yes, I should specify: these be 2 **separate** movies. There is no upcoming movie featuring both Legos and Viewmasters . That would be preposterous!!) when there are perfectly enjoyable books out there that haven't been adapted for the big screen. It feels wasteful. It feels wrong. You catch my drift.
But back to this Li'l Whorehouse thing--
Perhaps the movie industry hasn't run out of new ideas completely, but I think it's a given that the reservoir of new ideas is noticeably drying up . So in that case, I suppose remaking old movies isn't the WORST possibility. It's not as good as a novel movie...but it's better than a g.d. Rubik's Cube movie. What I find sort of amusing is the ever-looming "What will they re-hash next??" question. The more weird or obscure the better, I say. So maybe I'll see Best Little Whorehouse. After all, it is purported to be a musical ...and I'm a sucker for musicals (have yet to get around to seeing Nine...but I really wanted to) So maybe I'd see it. Depends on the casting..

Casting is also key to the success of the proposed Nat'l Lampoon's Vacation sequel. That aforelinked article says (citing a Variety article) that Chevy Chase will at least cameo in it as Clark Griswold. That's as it should be--Chevy Chase is the heart of those movies (though I can't vouch for the Vegas one, having skipped it) . Some of the commenters on the article championed Anthony Michael Hall as Rusty. I like that idea, but wonder... can AMH be funny? I mean, I know he used to be funny...damned funny, actually... but can he be funny NOW?? Now that he's come thru his steroids phase, and his voice has changed and he spent gawd-knows how many seasons on that Dead Zone show( <--that had to have sapped him of something, eh?) ?? Oh, I did happen to see the episode of "Community" that he guested on, but he sort of underwhelmed me there. Unfortunately, I really don't think a studio would give a wide theater release to a movie with AMH in a lead role. I wish it would happen though. I do so like to see these blast-from-the-past faves getting work (sincerely!!) This transitions rather nicely to...

The Alicia Silverstone vampire movie. This is reportedly an upcoming project of Amy Heckerling, who is maybe not the hottest property nowadays but a Heckerling movie would be a hell of a lot better for Silverstone than saaaay, popping up on some CW show as somebody's mom as she is near-susceptible to doing. If they crank this out before vamp-mania fades away, it could be a sweet comeback for both star & director.

Lastly...
It probably does not surprise anyone who knows me that I am miiiiighty stoked for this 2011 flick...

survey sezzzz

I was browsing a news item somewhere on the comcast site, and spotted a survey. Nothing to do with the news item, just a sidebar thing ..for Valentine's Day, I'm presuming.

Well, I'm quite often game for a survey...provided it's nothing current events related, nothing pithy like that and not being administered by someone accosting me in a mall.

So I voted. See below for a screen cap of the results (thus far)...

I promise 300 awesome points and a prize-yet-to-be-thunk-up-by-me to whomever guesses which song got my vote. . . .

haaa!

Yes, I STILL watch SNL (I am one of the few) and though lately the Digital Shorts have been more “miss” than “hit” for me (Laser Cats, for instance, needs to die) this short from the 1/30 episode cracked me up. Hi-fecking-larious.

I don’t watch Mad Men, but on account of this genius portrayal of “Sergio” I pledge myself a lifelong Jon Hamm fan…

ohmigawd...I love this so much but it sooo RUHtarded..

Today is my nephew's birthday. It's not easy for me to shop for boys, but I think I kicked ass this year. I bought him this splendiforous object d'art to adorn his room(did NOT pay $30. for it, please let the record show), and this very apropos tee. And then I got him a used XBox 360 game at Newbury Comics. The kid LOVES football, and even when he's couch taterin' it and engrossed in a video game, 9 times outta 10, he's playing Madden. So I wasn't sure that he'd take to any alternative. But I thought WWE Legends of WrestleMania looked ALL SORTS OF AWESOME, and so I snatched it up for him. He started playing it right off, so perhaps it was a good call. And it's a much, MUCH better spectator video game than Madden (ZZzzz).

I was watching Seth play it this afternoon and I was reminded of how much I used to dig Hulk Hogan's Rock 'n' Wrestling Saturday a.m. cartoon as a young lassie. If wrestling was as spectacularly campy today as it was circa 1985, then I just might deign to watch it. Now there's no kilted loudmouths, or junkyard dogs, or pig-toting hillbillies. Yawwwwn...now they're all just interchangeable badass types. I definitely was more into the characters/WWF mythos than I was into the actual wrestling.

So during this reverie, I recalled some dude always saying "Pencil-neck geek" which is such a funny go-to epithet. Like you're trying to be menacing (I presume) and convey that you're furious and you call someone. . .a geek? Oh no..my bad...that's a pencil-neck geek. Well, that's waaay more scathing. I really ought not criticize, because when I was a kidd-o, (probably until about the age of 6 or 7) my very worst name for me to fling at someone who enraged me was..."stool pigeon" For reals. THAT was my heavy artillery. I don't even know where I got that. WTF-- was I watching Jimmy Cagney movies or something???

Upon returning from Seth's birthday bash, I hastened to the computer to hit up YouTube. I remember the pencil neck geek guy (this was Classy Fred Blassie I've since rediscovered) working it into a song. I remember it verbatim "I'LL SMASH YOU WITH MY CANE, YOU PENCIL-NECK GEEK!!"
I found just what I was after. I just know there was repeated viewings of this in my formative years, because so much of it besides just the pencil neck geek part was oh-so familiar.

This cracks my shit up. I just love it. (my embed be actin' all whack so I shall also provide A LINK to the object of my amusement...my immense amusement) My next mission is to track down a transcript, because I'm curious-- is the Russian character actually saying real words? It just sounds like nonsensical jibba-jabba. Of course nonsensical jibba-jabba and WWF faux Russian are quite possibly the same thing.

I'm sad.Send moolah.

Bah... I'm in a foul mood. Certainly not a "black" mood but I've found myself in...I guess one would say..."the doldrums"

I sense my car is near death*. And it's made me philosophical... well, maybe I should choose the adjective "contemplative". "Philosophical" may be putting too grand a spin on it. I mean, did the great philosophers expend a lot of time & great philosophizing on the subject of finances? Philosophy101 is soooo far in my rear view, I honestly can't say. I remember I had a smallish crush on my professor and that's about all I can recollect. Which triggers another recurring worry of mine-- that my mental retention is not what it ought to be. But that's a tangential stressor...my main focus these days being MONEY. That's right: I've got my mind on my money and my money on my mind. Or lack thereof as the case seems to be. I've got my lack of a mind on my lack of money and my lack of money on my lacking mind. FECK.

I sometimes really do get the feeling that money--a nice, sudden, influx of excessive fundage-- would solve all my problems. Rationally, I know it wouldn't solve EVERYTHING. But, dammit, it feels like it would. And let's be real-- it sure wouldn't hurt. I think those people in the "Money can't buy happiness" camp are rather simplistic. Money could at least rent happiness. And that's better than no happiness at all, right? Hey, I don't need to be OBSCENELY RICH (though I can't imagine I'd hate it) I would just like to have enough so that issues like this one with my P.O.S. car didn't loom as this GIANT FUCKING IMPEDIMENT in my mind. Another thing that would be nice would be the ability to travel and not have to mete out just the exact number of ETO days you can afford to take, and not have to dick around with debates like-- lemme see, will I save more money at the Days Inn or the Super 8? If I get a room with a fridge, I can stock it with eats and save money by only dining out for one meal... Sure, there can be a certain thrill to being thrifty, but I imagine you get more of a kick out of it if you really don't *have* to be.

On the other hand, I am not destitute, and my annoying poindexter of a superego is piping up to say "At lot of people are worse off than you!!" Aforesaid superego also wants to point out that my $$ woes are only about 50% attributable to the shitty wage I pull in...the other 50%, I'm sure is due to my own calamitous style of financial planning. And I use the word "planning" VERY loosely in this instance. So all these important points duly noted...but that said ....

My id & ego just want MORE MONEY so it looks like my inner Jiminy Cricket is outnumbered, 2 to 1. I need to shop around for a 2nd job. I'm going to fall into that Catch 22 of having enough money but no time to enjoy it vs conversely, having the time...and no $$ to do anything. Is that a proper Catch 22 ?? I'm sure I learned all about the catch 22 at some point, but the definition has since escaped my sieve-like noggin. Oh, then there's finding that second job and then having no way to get there...which I realize is not a Catch 22....'tis just a downright PISSAH.

* specifics of my car ills- the check engine light popped on. Which I'm apt to be dismissive of ...but the car does feel to me like it's...I dunno...draggy. Like something is stepping on its tail...like it's going uphill all the time... but then I wonder if I'm really sensing the car is driving oddly or if the glow of the check engine light is causing me to imagine it. If the car *is* effed up, I ought not sink more $$ into the heap, I should just find a new car. (but uhhh, see post above re: obstructions to that scheme) I need to find a car that is little to no maintenance (and I mean preventative maintenance too!!) and lasts me forever...which is not going to happen because there is no such car. So maybe if that is too much to ask, how about a car that can specifically tell you WTF is the matter with it? I do believe Modern Science promised us fecking flying Jetson cars by the year 2010, the least they could do toward that end is give us autos that don't have totally nebulous warning lights. I mean, your check engine light comes on, and it could be one of ohhhhh, 3,000 different maladies. But then you take it to Auto Zone, where they can hook up one of their little pocket protecter computers to somewhereabouts under your dash and it burps forth a code. So the car--that sadistic shitass car-- *does* have a more specific idea of what is ailing it!! So why can't we get more specific indicator lights? But nooooo, for 50+ years we have the same, not overly helpful, alarmist set of indicator lights. And I am presently plagued by the worst of them all, which does the equivalent of yelling "AAAAAAAGH! YOUR ENGINE!" Which is especially vexing, since some of the times, the boo boo is not even in the vicinity of the sonofabitchin' engine.
KITT. I need KITT. If David Hasslehoff has custody, there may be hope. Y'know, I happen to have a coupon for $1 . off one Wendy's Baconator in my email inbox....so..you know... perhaps a barter...

super WOOL!!

I got Lucy this Superhero Starter Kit for Christmas and I had to film her getting some use out of it.

bimbo bus

I dunno that I've ever mentioned it, but my office shares a building with a bar. The prestigious (haa) Benning St Bar & Grille/ Electra takes up the front of our building and the VNA offices are ‘round back.

Anyways…I mention this cuz…guess what was parked in the parking lot today? A giant tour bus. Not just *any* giant tour bus—the GIRLS GONE WILD tour bus.

Word on the street (Benning Street, anyhow) is that they're patronizing Electra tonight & tomorrow night. I am soooooome miffed! I had no idea they was coming. Grrrr…what’s the point of my subscribing to the GGW e-newsletter if it’s not gonna get me the advance 411 on such happenin’s?? Had I known the bus was on its way to my 'hood I would have taken care of some overdue pit-scaping. I mean, I can’t very well shed my shirt on camera and then not commence to “raise da roof”--am I right? I mean, shirtless and arms crossed = big time mixed signals. I suppose I could do, side-to-side hillbilly elbows. But with the mid-size shrubberies I’ve got sprouting ‘neath my arms—absolutely *no* roof raising or fist-pumping.

Humiliation would surely ensue.

flour power

Back in mid-December (the 16th, if ya wanna be specific about it) my boss decided that our office was participating in an area Adopt-a-Family program, wherein your organization gets the specs on an area family in need (ages, genders, clothing sizes, wants, needs, etc.) and they buy Christmas gifts for them. Well because this drive fell under “clerical odd jobs” and everything in that category invariably falls to me, I ended up organizing the thing. And I didn’t really mind, as it was a fun job and quite a switcheroo from the mind numbing crud I usually get saddled with. I was a bit perturbed that Cathy launched the whole thing so belatedly (Dec 16th? That’s pretty shabby) but overall, I was cool with it.

So the day arrived for the pick-up of the gifts and me and a coupla folks from the Development Dept (it feels hokey to call them “Development” , as they’ve dubbed their crew. I’m always compelled to call them “Marketing” which is what they truly are) wrapped everything. Gaye (head of "Development") insisted we get photographed next to the mountain o' gifts wielding our rolls of wrapping paper (but of course she spins it into a photo op...that's her whole niche in the agency) Now that I wasn't overly thrilled about...not a big fan of getting my photo snapped, but I sucked it up and thought-- whatev..one of the pics she's going to schlep around to her please-support-the-VNA community outreach fetes that *I* will never have to see so what do I give a damn?

Well today she emailed the photo agency-wide. BARF. I sorta have myself to blame, though my instigation was *completely* inadvertant. I received in the mail a thank-you letter from the Adopt-a-Family program that expressed appreciation and also gave some results ie: how many gifts amassed, how many area families helped, etc. And so I scanned said letter and emailed it to everyone with reiterant "Thank you to all who participated" (actually it was a skoach more eloquently put, but I did manage some semblance of brevity believe it or no) And I guess that reminded Gaye of the photos she had taken, because mere minutes later her email went out.

Okay, it's bad enough that I looked HORRID. I was annoyed at having my photo taken (that's a given) and so I'm doing this awful transparent straining-to-be-civil smile (I have always been crap at smiling on cue ) Secondly, I'd just wrapped about a hundred presents and my updo was half fallen down. The real piece de resistance though was that fluorescent overhead lighting+ an unnecessary flash made it starkly apparent that I hadn't paid much attention to blending when I did my make up that morning. I had some sort of blemish fest on my face at the time (broken out in "spots" as the Limeys so cutely put it) and what I'd done was slapped some concealer over it and in my ill -lit bathroom I couldn't see how NOT blended it was and/or my coffee deprived brain didn't perceive it and/or I just had to smack that snooze button an extra time or three and was consequently running late that morning and didn't give a flying feck. Probably that last one, if I know me. You know, if I am going somewhere *important* and I have imperfections to mask, there's a whole time intensive, multi-layer spackling job I do but for work I just DON'T try that hard, aesthetically speaking (as I've made abundantly clear in this blog) Plus, I had no advance notice that I was going to be photographed that day either.

So yeah, short story long--I'm in this pic looking utterly hagged out and I have a bizarre white patch on my lower cheek, jawbone region. It was really pale flesh tone, but reads white in the fluorescent lights + camera flash atmosphere. So one of my coworkers--obnoxious bitch that she is--quickly emails me: " Did you have something with flour on it for lunch? LOL" Bloody hell... I have a general aversion to "LOL" to begin with, and then you get some people who overuse it to a redonkulous degree. This Amy is one of those. But obviously my biggest qualm with her is that she just HAD to point that out to me. When you get a publicly distributed photo of someone, where something is quite evidently jacked up about that someone's FACE, the humane thing to do is act like you never saw the picture. Obviously. Why must I always be the arbiter of proper decorum? Geeeez! Ok, so I feel a smidge guilty calling her an "obnoxious bitch". That's a tad strong, but the "obnoxious " part of it is right on the money.

I emailed back to her " I hadn’t had lunch at that point. Although I was somewhat discolored and disheveled from doing a faceplant in that pile of coke (I needed a li’l “picker-upper” to help me dispatch with my elving more expeditiously, y’know…) Yep, you shoulda helped out…it was a big drug orgy….good times. " Of course I wasn't going to cop to fucking up at mon toilette!!

Her response? "LOL"

Oh, you're "laughing out loud" now girl, but you gon' be laughing out tha otha side o' your face iffin you don't shut the hell up soon...

Guily Pleasure TV

I think I'm on record with my oft-disparaging attitude toward reality TV. And so, I really can't tell you WHY I make an exception and just adore both High School Reunion (watched the season3 premiere on Wednesday night--stayed up waaay too damn late, but I HAD to see it) and Project Runway (am kinda bummed that I missed that season premiere somehow...but I think PR eps are available thru the Lifetime website ...or Comcast On Demand. So I will undoubtedly catch up. Expect a PR-themed post@ that time).


Obviously this new HSR season is going to echo seasons 1 & 2, they keep mining these alum classes for the same archetypes : "the jock" "the outcast" etc. etc. Even though I know it's a quite deliberate formula, my mind keeps making parallels to season 2 & even season 1 sometimes. They do seem to be kicking it up a notch with some of their characters . Take their "bully" figure...Jason in season 1 was truly a poor excuse for a bully. He apparently had a history of bullying some nerd back in the day, but 20 yr reunion Jason was an innocuous meathead. And he apologized instantaneously, right at his detention. Then season 2 gave us Dennis...he was overtly obnoxious and required a small measure of reforming . So, a bit more of a story arc there-- it took 1 or 2 episodes to chip away his facade and expose his inner marshmallowiness. But the current incarnation--John--yyyikes. Like I said, they keep stepping it up... John makes Dennis look like Mr Rogers. What a colossal asshole!!

And I must give credit to his detention-mate Eric for dispelling, for this viewer, some tired old stereotypical misconceptions I didn't realize I held. I think "gay guy" and I imagine some impeccable Beau Brummel, arbiter of taste, guru of good grooming. But my idealized gay guy would never, EVER, sport that hair-do that Eric has.... and never, ever, *EVER* on national TV. Ok, sarcastic snipes at the guy's vile coiff out of the way, I genuinely do commend him for taking John's insistent asshattedness so very graciously. One thing that irked me about the whole Dennis fracas from last season is that when he was a rowdy, insensitive lout several alums really blew it outta proportion and acted like he stabbed someone or something monstrous. Eric maintained his sangfroid pretty admirably (a lot better than Tracy did, that's for sure).

Oh, in other bad hair news...Antanus. Dreads. Yuck. Can you REALLY be a "player" in dreads? Or maybe they're Stevie Wonder circa 1985 braids...but still. Seems incongruous to me, but I guess it's possible.

Rachelle is this season's Maricela... not really a stepped-up version either. YAWN. Also Jodi & Joe seem very familiar (Kara & Tom redux) although it seems pretty clear from previews that Joe is going to opt to NOT re-hit that. Whereas I believe last season left Kara & Tom on a "maybe?"note (even though I could tell the reunion was not gonna take).

They rather stepped up the bimbo element... not only is there a pair of them this season, but the Summer Girls are MEAN whereas poor Jessica was merely vapid .OK, so she was, incredibly, painfully vapid. And a little bit barmy. But I'd still rather have her at my reunion than the Summers. Oh, I would SO wanna throttle those bitches!! It was funny how, at the outset, Lisette was interviewed and mentions "I want to show my classmates that I was more than just hot & popular" or something like that. It was sort of cocky and stupid thing to say, but at its core, a noble sentiment. And then Elena came. And the two glommed onto each other and reverted back to behaviors of yore. Pretty interesting, from a sociological standpoint.

Cyndi, the nuevo-Liz, has one up on Liz, because Liz didn't have a racy post-h.s. gig to shock everyone with. I'm surprised they tipped the Cyndi, ex-stripper hand so early on in the season. Makes me think that they've got something REAL BIG in the hopper. Well, if season previews are to be believed, there's gonna be like, 3 or 4 weddings. Insane. I think that's just overkill...they're shooting for "sensational season", but landing in "hokey, contrived" territory.

Well, I'm starting to bore myself with this, so let me just sum up the rest of the cast with bullet points--
*Tracy B.-- mildly annoying. I guess overall I like her, but the way she's all excessively pissed at John , and yes he IS an asshole, but she was so preachy about it. And towards Eric...there was a *big show*of empathy. She's trying too hard...I think that's what it is about her that annoys. For me, she is the season 3 equivalent of season 2's class clown Scott.
The one thing I do find intriguing about her (thus far) is that inclusion of her last initial. It moves me to ponder when the other Tracy is showing up. And if she'll be less annoying.
*Lori-- looks quite a bit like a physical therapist I work with. That may unfairly prejudice me against her.

Ok, that's all the junk TV I'm going to prattle on about until the next HSR episode...or until I catch the Project Runway season premiere...whichever comes first.

doodly doodly dooooooo....

We had a mandatory all-employee meeting today. For the most part, it’s a litany of line chart after bar graph after pie chart, etc. etc all about our financial well being and the budget. SNOOOOOZE. But still, I was hoping it would run for the whole 2 hrs allotted, because it’s only during these mandatory meetings that I can get any doodling accomplished. On a day-to-day basis, I’m too industrious (yuck.. how distasteful). As it was (the meeting run time clocked in at a mere 42 min) this is all I managed to do…

mark your calendars

I've blogged about it before , but I feel it bears repeating..

This coming Jan 15th marks the 91st anniversary of the Boston Molasses Disaster. Fear and respect the molasses!!

Conan, Leno, Tomayto, Tomahto...let's call the whole thing off.

I can't believe the kerfuffle over this whole Leno/ Conan/ NBC imbroglio. I would say I don't give a rat's ass, but because of the chance of it impacting Jimmy Fallon and his terrific 12:35am program, I do indeed give a rat's ass.
It's time to put Leno out to pasture, methinks. I've never really found him terribly amusing anyways. Though, as long as they leave Jimmy be, I don't really care what NBC decides.

ponder fragments that clog the windmills of my mind

*the name "Mork"

Preexisting name? Or invented for the 70s sitcom Mork & Mindy?

Mork is one of those names that sounds like it must be short for something. Rationally, I *know* it's not really "Morkworth" or "Morkimer" but it feels abbreviated nevertheless.

*karate chop lethality

If a karate master can chop through a cinderblock, or 3 boards of hardwood (like I've not seen in person, but I'm sure I've seen it transpire on some footage from an old TV show...probably That's Incredible!) then can't someone with that level of karate prowess hiya-te chop* somebody's head off? I don't think they can. I'm 99.99999% positive they can't, actually. It's just that nobody's been able to adequately explicate to me why it can't be done.

NOT that I want to karate chop anyone's head off, of course.

*Baroque? Rococo? What's the dif, yo?

this is a new ponderance, actually. I've been a bit prone to contemplating architecture as of late (you mighta noticed). And so, when I had a credit in the used bookstore to use up, I spent some of it on Architecture Styles Spotter's Guide (came very close to buying Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast trilogy, but I have SO MUCH fiction in my possession, in my "to read " queue..) So, I've been reading this guide, trying to absorb some actual knowledge about architecture. (parenthetical tangent: I like the word "enthusiast"...it's a good word to describe me in regards to a number of things-- art, architecture, classical music..many, many more subjects. I get all fascinated, but have no more than a scant smattering of knowledge on any of 'em. "Enthusiast" though, is very apt, as inherently it only promises enthusiasm...no expertise) It's been pretty informative, overall, but I still can't distinguish between Baroque & Rococo very well. The book actually describes Rococo as "Baroque, but more so--"
That's not a big help.

*Red velvet flavor is____

What is red velvet? A melange of spices? It doesn't particularly taste like velvet to me (I oughtta know..I ingest a lot of various fabrics. Method acting study for a goat role, if you must know) Supposedly it's sort of chocolate--so sez wikipedia. But then wiki goes on to say "A Red velvet cake is a type of rich and sweet chocolate cake (though it is often made without chocolate flavoring)" Is a sweet chocolate cake made without chocolate flavoring rendered just a sweet cake? I don't think you can classify it as a chocolate cake in that case? That's one of those unclear clarifications like the whole Baroque/ Rococo thing.

*hiya-te chop is what my niece used to call it-- this is because ideally you make this fierce "HIIII-YA!" exclamation when you do said chop. So she turned it into this cute onomotopeiaic portmanteau thingie. My vocab is cluttered with all these adorable "niece-isms" that the nieces have dropped ages ago, but I haven't managed to. Like calling meatloaf "meepo" for instance.

just an FYI

This book is the exact book I was referring to two posts ago.

indecision...

Oh, maybe Clive & I should live in "The Manseigneur" in my dreams. I am charmed so by bungalows, but this one has a freakin' LIBRARY in it... my dream house would SO have a library.

The Buena Vista

I was killing time meandering about online tonight, and went to ask.com. I feel like Google is overrated. I mean, "google" has become the verb for doing an online search, just like "kleenex" is the commonly employed noun when anyone speaks of tissue--as if there were no other brands. Ok, there's not a very substantial link betwixt Kleenex & Google--only that they are giants in their fields. And I shouldn't have disparaged Google with an "overrated" when I actually don't have a problem with it. I think my primary usage of ask.com is just another way of "rootin' for the little guy", y'know? But I digress-- the merits of various search engines was not the intended point of this post.

I wanted to share this site. I did an ask.com search for "vintage house plans"--was not really expecting to find anything, but this site--the first search result that cropped up--was just what I was seeking. Scooooore!
Y'see once upon a time, on a lark, bought a slim reproduction of an early 20s house plan catalog. It was $3.99 amongst the Borders Bargains, so I bought it (I don't do expensive "larks" you know) And I found that I really dug it. I have subsequently looked in Borders for other books of the same type and it's either that they've got nothing or maybe they've got 1 or 2 that fit the bill but they're not in the Bargains corral and priced a bit steeper than I want to spend. I feel like, if I drop $25 on a house plans book, I should be planning on building a house and not just browsing through, pointing at different plans or features and saying "Ooh. Me likey" Which is--more or less-- what I do.

In the book I have, this particular company (they might have been Sears plans) named all their houses. I find it somehow 10x more charming when a cute little Tudor revival is "The Chatford" rather than "Plan No. 112" Don't you agree? It makes me imagine excited homeowners of the early 20th century referring to their new abode by the design name...y'know...Betty is giving a tour of the place during the housewarming party and tells Arlene "We very nearly went with the Hanover , but I just fell in love with the idea of a breakfast nook, so I talked Danny into the Chatford"



How idyllic, right??


I think tonight, I'm going to have lovely dreams about me living in the Buena Vista.. . . .



. . . .with Clive Owen

The knave abides.

I have yet to read this whole thing (and I may not) but I thought this was awesome nonetheless!! LOOOOVE IT.

Reason 974 that I should move to the UK

Mmmkay..so it will save us some time if you don't make me review the first 973 reasons, agreed?

Anyways...I was on Amazon, looking at preordering "Return to Cranford" ( I own Cranford and just luv it) which aired over there as a mid-December Christmas special but did not air on any channel on MY side of "the pond". As much as I love Fa-la-la-laLifetime, I am damned jealous!! Anyways, was perusing that DVD (which is getting an amazingly quick release!! Good on ya, BBC !!) and I spied amongst my recommendations something called "Lark Rise to Candleford" Crazy-ass name, but it looks pretty rad. I was a bit surprised to find this show is going into its 3rd season and I'd never before heard of it. I'm often on the prowl for such fare (in fact, on just such a prowl last month, I was stoked to discover this site and, despite its horribly schmaltzy name, this site)

It just bums me out that they get awesome shows like that over there, and US TV just churns out crap reality show after crap reality show. Conveyor Belt of Love? Are you f-ing joking??

Ok, I'm going to do a 180 here and be a HUGE hypocrite but...silver lining...the 2 reality shows I actually dig (the lone exceptions to my rule) are both premiering this month! Huzzah!! Next week is the 3rd incarnation of High School Reunion. And then on January 14--Project Runway! You know I never did watch the very last episode of last season, because I happened to hear who won and I loathe Irina's nasty bitchy guts and couldn't bear to bear witness to that.

Today is my Dad's B-day!!

Feliz cumpleanos mi padre!!

I went over to my folks' tonight even though tomorrow night has been designated big fam birthday dinner night. My bro-in-law has a 1/5 b-day, so it's gonna be a joint thing (but not with joints, you understand. decidedly NOT that sort of party) There were leftover baked beans to be had, and my Dad was opining that a baked bean sandwich was the best sandwich around. I stifled my dissent on account of it being his birthday or whatev, but I'll unstifle here in this forum : I SO DISAGREE.
I would eat such a sandwich actually (though not the way he likes 'em--he had me toast the wheat bread--that part was okay-- and spread the bread w/ Hellman's mayo. UGH. I think it would be just fine with NO condiments... or maybe mustard) but that's just a tremendous overstatement. In the pantheon of great sammies, "baked bean" doesn't even make the top 10. Am I right?? (brief aside--scope this neat-o website, kids: http://www.insanewiches.com/)

Well, wild overstatements aside, it was his birthday. So I stuck a birthday candle in his bean sandwich I made him and sang "Happy Birthday " as I served it. This strikes me as damn funny. Probably if I didn't know that he has a cake coming tomorrow it would just be sad and/or pathetic. But he will get a b-day cake, so my conscience allowed me to be amused by birthday bean sammich. I don't quite know WHAT I found so funny about it. Is it incongruity? Thwarting of expectations? I don't know what. Just a comedic je ne sais quoi , I guess. Sort of a je ne sais HAA. (wocka wocka) Wouldn't hafta be a bean sammie though. A birthday candle in a hotdog would also be funny...and funnier still if you called it a birthday frankfurt (no, "weener" is going for the cheap laff, and it's played out besides)

My Dad is weird. After he ate, he called up 2 of the guys he used to work with that he remembered had the same birthday as him --these are guys he's not seen since retiring 10 years ago, mind you. Just made out of the blue, happy birthday calls to these fellahs. He actually opened one phone call singing "Happy Birthday" (though I think the Beatles' birthday song woulda been more apropos) And then it was all--It's me, Art! What have you been up to? This is what I've been up to. Blah blah blah. Old anecdotes. Have you seen so & so? Yeah, I saw so & so two months ago. Have you seen this dude? That dude? How does he look? Yadda yadda yadda.

I would NOT do that. He is perfectly at ease cold-calling some semi-close acquaintance that he's not seen in a decade and chatting them up. That would seem weird to me. Partly I think- well shit, if you haven't made an effort to see them in 10 years there's probably a good reason, Sandra. But then my superego is all-- well that's sort of misanthropic and you shouldn't think that way. And that superego voice in me does kind of appreciate and maybe envy that quality in my Dad. I've always thought I was just the right amount of friendly, but maybe I'm not?

One of my work compadres wished his wife a big ol' HAPPY BIRTHDAY on his FB wall today. The wacky coincidence of it being both his wife's and my Dad's birthday (what are the chances? Pretty damned good, actually. Still, these things never cease to charm me) had me on wiki, seeking out who else was born on Jan 6th. Some exciting finds--
Danny Pintauro (Johnathan on Who's the Boss?) -- 1/6/1976
Rowan Atkinson (1/6/1955)
Vic Tayback 1/6/1930 (he played Mel on Alice; quick tangent-- I recall at my last job, we wiled away an afternoon debating which of us in the office was a Mel...who was the Flo, who was a Vera, etc. I think I wound up being Alice)
Another wacky b-day coinky-dinky that delighted me: Jan 6 is the birthday of both Bonnie Franklin (of One Day at a Time fame) and BEN FRANKLIN (of bifocals inventing and flying kites in T-storms fame)

I got kind of stumped when shopping for Dad's b-day. He's had his present bathrobe since the Reagan administration so I bought him a new robe. He'll probably think it frivolous since the old robe isn't quite threadbare. Still probably has another 10 years of use in it, eh? It may not be threadbare, but it's an UGLY thing. I hope he wears this new one I got him. Not only is it more aesthetically pleasing (black & green buffalo check) it's WARM and he's always wearing his bathrobe outdoors for one reason or another--to get the paper, or go out in the freezing garage to bring out recycling. It's nutty.

So once I selected the robe, I thought I should give him a little something else. So I thought...what little somethin' would go well with a robe?? Initially I thought : snacks!! A good thought, because snacks do go well with a robe and snacks are an easy, sure-fire man-gift. But one of my Dad's 2010 resolutions is to drop some lbs and that's deuced tough enough without my sabotaging him!! So I bought him a book. It's good to read in a robe, si? Maaaan, I must have stood in the Kmart book aisle a good 15 minutes debating: Jon Krakauer's "Into Thin Air" or Alice Sebold's "The Lovely Bones"? Lovely Bones or Thin Air? Air? Bones? Sebold? Krakauer? Thin? Lovely? I was RACKED WITH INDECISION, I tells ya. Krakauer looked like an obvious frontrunner, with the cover copy exclaiming "Ranks among the great adventure books of all time!!" (so sez the Wall Street Journal) But I opted for "Lovely Bones" because I skimmed just a teensy bit of "Into Thin Air" and thought that passage read very factually, like a piece of journalism and so I thought that might be a kinda dry read. And I believe the Lovely Bones has a heroic father figure in it, so I thought that might be a good pick for that reason. But I haven't read either and maybe I chose wrong. I do wonder if "Lovely Bones" is too much of a femme, Oprah-esque book for myDad. Though he did tell me once how much he liked the book "Little Women" so that probably won't be an issue.

head gear

I received a couple of gift certs to Kohls this Christmas. Now, I have had a history of finding decent threads in there, but now that I have $$$ to burn, I can't seem to find a damn thing. Still, I couldn't leave there empty handed when I went this past Saturday so I got a cool bracelet, a necklace, & knit hat (all Vera Wang's Simply Vera line-- nice stuff, me likey)



So this hat I got-- kind of rad. It's sort of a touque-style hat--a loose black knit that you can see through the weave and see that inside the black knit is all silver sequins. Aw hell, why don't I just scrounge up a pic for y'all??



{several web scouring minutes later...}



It's really cuter in person, I assure you. Anyways, you can see it's not a tight beanie..it's got a bit of slouch to it. So, I've been wearing it sorta pushed back and to the left. And I've been wearing the hell out of it. The greeter at Walmart said it was cute and looked very good on me. And then as I donned it the other day to head out on my lunch break, one of my coworkers said it made me "look like a city girl". Now, I would have preferred the adjective "fetching" in the first scenario, and "metropolitan" in the latter, but that is not what either of them said, and I endeavor to report with the utmost accuracy, yes I do. Nevertheless, both remarks were complimentary and I was feeling pretty fine.

And then I caught a glimpse of myself in a big mirror. Well, really, I don't think the hat was the sole culprit, rather there was some awful sartorial chemistry going on with my coat-hat pairing. The coat may be the guiltier party --a long wool coat, trench style, black & white herringbone pattern, looks slightly stupid with its 2 big loopy belt loops hanging off the back of it when I have long since lost the belt. I'm a fan of long coats generally. I find them elegant (not dusters though...dusters are foul. I feel like primarily they are worn by weird neauvo-cowboys and plain ol' weird weirdos that keep weird journals that you better be on the lookout for. Hey, if you know of another ilk that favors dusters--please do enlighten me !) But I'm thinking that certain body types just need to find the absolute perfect long coat and maybe some should just totally avoid 'em. Anywhoodle...when I saw me in the mirror, 3 words flashed through my mind:

Glitzy Sam Kinison.

Oy vey!! So the moral of the story: believe your mirrors, NOT the hype. Unless you're consulting one of those 50x magnification make-up mirrors. Don't believe that kind!! I'm not saying they're dishonest mirrors, quite the contrary. But if you believe what those tell you, well...one is liable to have a lie-down on the train tracks and wait for the next express to flatten 'em. BRUTAL instruments, and I recommend shunning them altogether.

In other headgear news, I wore a turban to work the other day. No, I'm not adding a Middle Eastern flair to my wardrobe, nor am I trying to pull off some sort of business cas. Bob Mackie type o' thing. It was a bit of a slip-up and the rambling, unabridged backstory goes a little somethin' like--
I am really, really, really, REALLY not a morning person. It's even tough for me to hear one of those morning people effuse "Oh, I like to take it slow in the mornings--get up at five, linger over my coffee, read the paper, vacuum, blah blah blahdee blaah" Oh BARF. Who does that? I mean, people do do that...but I just can't fathom...when blankets are so snuggly to snuggle...what the fuck? Really?? I give myself 15 minutes to get ready for work and not a nanosecond more. That means that I get up 15 minutes before I leave for work. Well to be quite specific, my alarm starts going off 45minutes before departure time, and I groggily slap the snooze button for a 30min. Problematically though,my average shower time ranges from 15-20minutes. I make this nonproblematic by showering at night. Well, usually I do. On the rare weekday a.m.s that I take a shower, this means that I'm either running 15-20 minutes late, or I've actually roused myself a whole 1/2 hour before hustle-out-the-door time. Now in either scenario, you can bet your ass that I am NOT busting out the hair dryer. OK, I'm starting to fear that I'm portraying myself as some drab tomboy slob loser. So at this juncture, I remind you: I'm just going to work. When I go out on the weekends (well, when I periodically do... when I'm in the black) I make up for my day-to-day primping lackadaisicality (SOOO not a word!! is it?). I take, I'd say on average, 2 hours to preen for social excursions.

Well, I have digressed. What I was getting at-- my shower morning S.O.P. is to twist my wet locks into a Turbi Twist and wear that on my ride in to work. And then, after parking, I take off the turban, and hang the thing on my passenger seat headrest to dry. But, as you've surely surmised, I accidentally deviated from protocol the other a.m. I walk across the parking lot, oblivious, waving to a fellow coworker -- "Hi Ann!" favoring her with the winningest smile a pre-coffee me can muster. Walked right inside to the coat rack. The act of shedding my coat must have tipped me off --"Some other item you were supposed to take off, nimrod??" I quickly ripped the thing off and hung it up under my coat. I'm pretty sure Ann's the only one who noticed. She's been having a good laugh about it ALL WEEK.

to EVERYBODY! EVERYONE--HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Is it just auntie bias, or is she legitimately a *&%$#@ing riot?