Bamm on Bam violence and unrelated musings

The assailant in the attack was said to be a white haired cartoon toddler, clad in an orange and black loincloth.

Ok, well if you follow the link, you’ll learn quickly that, NO, this was not a case of Bamm Bamm vs Bam. But that was my initial suspicion when I read the headline. I mean, the motive is there ( moniker theft) and the M.O. absolutely matches. It’s a good thing for the Rubbles that this crazy bat-wielding broad was caught or else Bamm would have to make with a decent alibi. And if he couldn’t. . . THE DIP!!

Ohmigawd, WHAT was the name of that judge that Christopher Lloyd played in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? He was pretty fucking terrifying, that’s fer sure.

Speaking of judges, I was straining at the brain this morning to come up with the real life name of the actor that played the judge on Night Court. I bring this up because I spotted the opportunity for a decent segue, but mostly I mention it to indicate what very arbitrary and unexpected stops My Train of Thought makes. Not at all predictable like route stops on Amtrak or Soul Train (I type “Soul Train” , but in my head I hear “Soooooooooul Train!” like they trill in the opening credits) I was on one of my a.m. bathroom breaks, enjoying the downtime, and by some detour of my Brain Train I was pondering Night Court… there really was some follow-able chain of thoughts that led there (I didn’t jump the rails entirely) but I’ll be damned if I can remember what that was. But anyways, somehow-er-nuther I was thinking about Night Court. I still find the Night Court theme song strangely memorable….which is not to say I like it. It was very saxy, but in a bad way, not in an awesome, Yakety-Sax sorta way As for the show itself, it seems like it was quite popular during its run, but I can’t fathom why, can you? I think people watched it for Bull. He was the Fonzie/ Rerun/ JJ/ Schneider/Kramer etc etc. for that show. I myself, had this 6 month spell where I watched syndicated episodes…it wasn’t because of Bull though…I have no idea what I watched that show for. .What a crappy show. But then again, I’ve lived thru some very questionable TV kicks that I just *cannot* account for : Wishbone, Bananas in Pajamas, Matlock.

Anyways, I kept trying to think of who played that judge, and the name “Harry” kept popping into my head, but then I’d dismiss it thinking: “Nooo no noo, that was the CHARACTER name…what was the ACTOR’S name?? He was in the dumb forgettable TV show based on the life of Dave Barry and he was in IT with John Ritter and Pennywise the clown and a big assorted cast of others….has he done anything lately???oh what is his name??” Of course, when I returned from el bano I promptly looked it up on IMDB and found that—tricky!!--- “Harry” is his real name and his character’s name. (It’s Harry Anderson…like you were yelling 2 paragraphs ago) Whenever they do that on a TV show, and they do it a lot, methinks, I feel like it’s either the writers being lazy with name generation (“Ohhh…we just really can’t come up with another name that fits his face”) or possibly the actor is so helplessly stupid and bad at acting that he will not be able to stay in character when other actors address him by a strange name. Probably that’s not the case most of the time (either scenario…or is it neither scenarion? When I shift in to high-gear rambling my grammar starts to suffer, I’m afraid..) but I just always think that. Of course, there’s Tony Danza…who seems to be Tony in EVERYTHING. But in that case, it’s permissable, because he’s Tony Danza and normal rules don’t apply to him on account of him being all sorts of awesome. When I was in 3rd grade, I wanted to marry Tony Danza when I grew up . Shut up. You know you did too.

In summation: I hate Night Court and I hope Bam Margera is on the mend (and not brain damaged).

{EPILOGUE—I remembered, in the course of all this blathering, how I got to contemplating Night Court: I was thinking of this movie I watched last night (Spring Breakdown—rented it off iTunes. DO NOT waste your money!!) and how astonishingly terrible it was. I was considering whether it was bad enough for me to visit its IMDB page and post a message board post solely to have my repulsion noted. The last time I did that it was for this awful movie that I saw on a bus coming back from Boston and had we not been speeding down the interstate (and instead were travelling <50mph)>) I might have attempted a tuck ‘n’ roll out the emergency exit to escape this turd of a movie. Oh, and that movie was (relevance imminent) Dave Berry’s Guide to Guys. And the crappiness of that made me reflect that Dave Barry seems to have made a nice living out of being not that fresh or insightful or clever (though, I acknowledge that this was just an off-the-cuff, uninformed rogue notion, since I have never actually read any Dave Barry…I suppose I was just taking that movie to be exemplary of his entire oeuvre, and that’s probably unfair of me) and even had a whole sitcom about him in the 90s and who was it in that? Oh his big role was on Night Court…and yadda yadda yadda…you see how the Train of Thought got headed down the aforesaid track, yes?}

My Name Is No Longer Earl

Memphis Beat looks like it may be worthwhile. Methinks it will be refreshing to watch Jason Lee play someone other than Earl Hickey for a switcheroo. I do adore Jason Lee but that sitcom was getting MUCHO STALE.

consumption

I'm trying to drop some elbees, and eat healthier, & what not (yep, yet again..) I was grocery shopping in Price Chopper the other day and not too far from the produce section is this "cheeses of the world" kiosk. I have always been a cheese fan, but OMFG. now that I am trying to..well, not abstain from cheese, but significantly limit my intake, the stuff seems more MAGICAL than ever!!

So I was circling said kiosk like a Great White (the shark, not the band) (haa) and I spied this little brick called Juusto. Oh, marvy! I was then not only trying to resist cheese, but I was trying to resist exotic, unexplored cheese (having never tried Juusto). It was only thru an act of SUPERHUMAN WILLPOWER that I managed not to buy the cheese. Oh yeah, and I summoned up that superhuman willpower by looking at the nutrition facts. I've been doing that a lot lately, I'm afraid (and sometimes it'll knock ya on yer arse!!) I actually don't think the fat & calories of the Juusto were as astronomical as I was expecting them to be, but then I took note that the recommended serving size is a 1" cube. That's redonkulous!!! I know anorexic hummingbirds that eat bigger chunks of cheese!! OK, well there's only one anorexic hummingbird I know (Ralph) and I only saw him eat the cheese that one time, but it was an ENORMOUS piece (camembert, if I recall correctly).

Anyways, I need someone who's tried Juusto to tell me it was actually rather putrid and I'm not missing out on anything. But DON'T lie to me--only tell me that if it's the God's honest truth!!

So in this dietary rehab endeavor, I have enlisted the aid of this secret society that requires me to "journal" what I eat and tally it all up by its points value. (ok so, it's not all that secret a society) . Anyways, I was contemplating whether or not I *really* had to jot down dinner & apps from last night (I went here; their Carne Asada Salad was waaay delish. I recommend it!!) considering the fact that I yarfed it all up at about 1:30 this morning. Today I feel surprisingly good considering how sadistic I was to my poor liver. I was almost refreshed , like my body was saying "Oh hey..we've not done that in a while". But I am not moronic enough to really think my body is so subversive.

ridiculous commercial I just saw

This was just on TV--

--to which I gotta make the obvious wisecrack (everytime I see it...aloud...I really do): That dude has more serious fucking problems than ED to yak about with his doc!! If you're having regular conversations with your reflection like that, you need a check up from the neck up!!Maybe put off your chat about Viagra and ask about some anti-hallucinatory meds, eh??

Fartsy artsy

Yesterday, I was covering the front desk while the receptionist was attending our all-agency meeting. I decided, during this front desk stint, I'd work on one of my "fun" work projects--signage for the bathroom. Larry asked me to make a sign for the bathroom that somehow reminds potty patrons to use the fan if they're going to leave behind a big stink cloud in there. I object to such signage. I mean, you feel bad enough if you stink up the loo, (oh yes, I've been there) you'd don't need someone nagging you on top of it. That's just mean. It just...it... it makes me want to take a shit of defiance in the middle of the floor. Well....ok....I AM overstating my ire a smidge, but it really does vex me. I don't like being micromanaged.

In Larry's defense, he does not care about laying down bathroom law. However some o' the office folk came to him the other day asking that a bigger fan be installed. I know he does all the plunging, but apparently even when there are issues of mere malodor, he's the go-to guy. How lucky is he?

Even if I take issue with the signage, it's a good project, as it requires me to (ever so slightly) flex my creative muscles. Somebody had put a sign in one of the bathrooms previously (that got taken down...*not* by me--I swear!) That said "Don't be one of these...{then a shabby clip art skunk...he really looked more like a badger than anything. But from the context, I got that it was a skunk} Turn on the fan...please!" So, I was disappointed in their lame choice of graphic, and I didn't like people trying to be the boss o' me (there, of all places!!) but that sign had one thing right...RHYMING. If you want people to get a rule ingrained in their noggin for the long run--bust a rhyme. Think about it: "Red sky @ night, sailor's delight" and the one that governs my life: "Beer before liquor never sicker, Liquor before beer-in the clear" and, ohhh, about a ka-JILLION others. So I was tossing about possible rhyming sign verbage but they were all tending toward the uhh, crasser end of the spectrum ("If you stink up the can, turn up the fan" was the nicest I had).

But then I actually got down to designing the thing yesterday a.m, and I ditched the rhyme-plan altogether and went for something high end...

Of course, it was shot down. Dunno if you can read it here, but it reads "Please avail yourself of the fan. Thank you." *I* LIKE the term "avail yourself", but I suppose it's not kosher for general public signage. If I MUST dumb it down then I am scrapping the delightful Victorian ephemera...they're getting black, all-caps block letters on a white background.

As is my custom, I spent the bulk of the all-agency meeting (the later session, that I attended) doodling. I didn't fill the page as much I usually do, since I unfortunately got stuck with a seat close to the front. Here is all that I could manage--

Goode? How 'bout GREAT...

I confess: I'm a suckah for a schmoopy rom-com (provided that neither of the 2 leads irks and/or repulses me...in other words ...well, I'm not namin' names, but that means no "Alex & Emma" or "Fool's Gold" for me)

But prior to renting Leap Year on iTunes the other day, I had no opinion of Matthew Goode one way or t'other. I like Amy Adams though, so I thought I'd give it a go.

I do recommend it (if you like that sort of thing). The funny thing is that Goode plays a dude who's really kind of an asshole. But because he was also RIDICULOUSLY CUTE at the same time, I wound up being totally dismissive of the assholishness. It ain't right, but there you have it. I am a shallow, superficial broad. It is now a matter of record.

Summer Lovin' part deux

I was gonna blog yesterday about how very enthused about summer I am, and the Grease thing was just an opening side-tangent, and then I got carried away on that tangent and then I found myself too tired to keep writing and get around to getting to the point (methought I was gonna do a faceplant on my keyboard!!) So here we go...

I am stoked--nay--MEGA-STOKED for summer. The weather lately has been way hot and I just love it. I think I might love summer more every year.

Here's some mental cud for y'all to gnosh on...

complete this sentence (sincerely, that is. DON'T be a smartass...this isn't Match Game '74 and I am certainly NOT Gene Rayburn...thought I do look quite dashing when brandishing a skinny mic) :

Nothin' makes it feel like summer more than________________

Am also not looking for the obvious, no-brainer answers to that question, ie: "80 degree weather" or "it being June 1st". There's a zillion, subjective, personal indicators of summer, some of them unexpected. Ferinstance... I am very seasonal about tunes... in the summer, there are 2 musical genres I gravitate toward--2 pretty disparate genres. Every summer needs to have at least one bona fide club banger. So I want to listen to those every summer...all the bangin'-est, most infectious hip-hop in my tunes aresenal. The other type music I want to hear in the summer is 50s or 60s rock 'n' roll--but not just any & all of it. It has to be 50s music one would listen to whilest "cruising the strip" as they did back in the day (or I have been led to believe they did anyways... small side tangent...I sometimes feel like I got the shaft in regards to the era I wiled away my teens in. I mean, I dunno why, but I hold this romanticized notion of youth in bygone eras. The 50s/ 60s seemed rife with some sort of magical ambiance, and the 70s seemed way more FUN than what I got stuck with. Even the 80s (to a slightly lesser degree) seem cooler than...bleccch ...the 90s. That's *precisely* the decade in which the magical ambience reserves dried up, I'm sure of it, and it's SO unfair)

Ok, wheeeeere the hell was I? Oh yes... in the summer I most dig 50s cruisin' music or 60s music of the sort that woulda cropped up in Dirty Dancing. Example: I always love to hear "Stay" [Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs; this one's actually in Dirty Dancing] and recently have downloaded "Come On, Let's Go" by Ritchie Valens and am really digging it.

Oh, speaking of new iTunes buys (file this one under "club bangers" though....old skool club bangers) I just got & cannot stop listening to Rock Master Scott & the Dynamic Three's "The Roof is on Fire" I just love it. It's this interesting dichotomy... the song is riddled with these old-timey hip-hop cliches ("everybody say HOOO!" urging listeners to wave their hands above their heads in a manner that implies apathy, etc. etc.) which I certainly don't fault it for. I mean, at the time of its recording, this was new material. It has only been borrowed, and re-borrowed and rendered trite in years hence. But still, because of all the old gems in there, the song winds up with a somewhat, ummmm, dorky vibe (which I happen to love , btw) Y'know, it sounds just a bit like your dad trying out his hip-hop chops. Anyways, add another layer of dorkiness when you notice that in parts of the song, Rock Master Scott sounds EXACTLY like DJ Lance from Yo Gabba Gabba! (and yes, I get dork points x infinity for noticing that. 'Sokay, I own it. But do a little audio-comparison...you'll see that I'm totally right!) So you've got this fun, dorky-innocent vibe and then...."MOTHERFUCKER" hollered multiple times at the end of the song. That is like, the CUSS GODFATHER!! Or quite high up in the hierarchy of profanity, at least! If you don't know the song already, that kinda takes you unawares (the MF-bomb, that is).

Ok, a few more of my own seasonal harbingers...

• Flip-flops! (that's one for many folks, I'm sure)


• Sunglasses that look like---->>

would those just be referred to as Ray Bans? I believe Ray Ban makes lots of other styles, so methinks that would be a misnomer. That style needs a name though...or maybe it has a name and I just am clueless as to what it is.

I happen to be, like the Imelda Marcos of sunglasses (well, I'm workin' towards it anyhow) and I have all different styles (no amber lenses or granny glasses though...both look horrid on me!) but this style is somehow, to me, the summeriest. The penultimate summer outfit would involve just such shades....flip-flops.....and some manner of fluorescent fabric betwixt the two.

• Shishkabobs!! This is what I wanna eat all summer. I just love grilling, despite the fact that 8 outta 10 times when I light the grill I singe off some arm hair. Or maybe....because of that fact. Perhaps I thrive on the element of danger. And definitely I's got arm hair to spare. I have rather hirsute arms, I fear. I'm lucky that I'm fair haired. Anyways, I just did veggie kabobs the other night (though generally I throw some cow meat on the skewer) and the mushrooms were MAAAAD DELICIOUS!!
• Sangria!! This is what I wanna drink all summer. Ohh, but that might either break the bank or KICK MY LIVER'S ASS! So, instead, here's my bev-itinerary for the next 3 mos: iced coffee --probably just in the a.m. Then my afternoons I will imbibe some combination of Diet Cokes, iced teas, Miller Chill, & sangria (NOT all mixed together, dumbass)

summer lovin'

..that reminds me, a Grease sing-along is hitting theaters across the country this summer. Major cities only-- that's the pisser. These things never come to "a theater near me". Therefore, I have never attended a sing-along cinematic event. Of course, with The Rocky Horror Picture Show (which is probably the most commonly staged sing-along) I don't really feel deprived. I'm not really into Rocky Horror (odd, right? it seems like I would be..). But a Grease sing-along, I would really dig. Well, I don't totally adore the movie like so many do. The overall message is pretty despicable--it's something to the tune of-- you need to let fly all your inhibitions and succumb to a total whorebag makeover to hang on to that man (paraphrasing there). But I'm more of an escapist than I am a moralist, so that's not a huge impediment to me enjoying the flick. My big thing is that Olivia Newton John irks me, and I'm pretty tepid in my feelings on Travolta (even in his Barbarino days) I used to really like Kenickie, but now that portrayal is just a sad reminder of what a stud the sad sack that is now Jeff Conaway once upon a time was. (I feel like that made no sense. You get my gist, no?) But there's still the uber-cool Stockard Channing, and most importantly, I know and love all the songs. That's why I'd really appreciate the sing-along, but the closest they're coming to me is Boston, and I just don't foresee it happenin'.

I watched some Sound of Music anniversary documentary, and they showed how they throw these mega sing-along/ act along showings at the Hollywood Bowl. Now *that* is my ultimate sing-along event. I would SO love that.

donkey monikers--Epilogue Dos

I can’t believe I rattled off 50 donkey names and I forgot to list “Ira”. Thatsa good ‘un-- should definitely be on there.

Here’s a fun little morsel to add to your Sandra Fact File…. I had a Gigapet once upon a time…it was pink and the pet was a koala, and I named him Ira.

donkey monikers-- an epilogue

Once I got mentally unblocked, the names started rolling. I rattled off (kinda stream-of-consciousness-like) 50 names (I had to stop somewhere) that struck me as funny and/ or cute.

I shall share with y'all, in case you are ever plagued with the dilemma of a nameless donkey (some may also be suitable for anonymous alpacas or goats)--

Donkey Kong
Dominic
Don Donkey (the mafia donkey)
Algernon
Allistair
Fletch
Gordon
Angus
Magnus
Gustavo
Heinrich
Georg (pron. Gay-org)
Monty
Shecky
Sherm /Sherman
Delroy
Leroy
LaMont
Gary
Barry
Gerald
Bob
Freddy
Friedrich
Irv
Marco
Bartholomew
Gregory
Amos
Telly
Neville
Cecil
Paco
Pablo
Henry
Howie
Moses
Phillip
Chachi
Fonzie
Potsy
Willis
Kevin
Torgo
George
Benji
Mork
Pete
Boober
Jefferson

woopsie

OK, no tormenting, organ-readjusting pants today, but I am not without my wardrobe snafus. This dress has a tie in the back…the left sash just had a little float-about in the toilet l (which, regrettably, I only realized after my business had concluded)

So odd, because,I am usually hyperconscientious about keeping my tie-backs to the exterior of the toilet bowl. This particular awareness I believe stemmed from a particularly disastrous lace-in-the-toilet incident (yours truly was dressed up in bridesmaid finery at the time)

donkey monikers

My friend’s sister is getting a donkey. Said friend emailed me about this straight away as I’ve opined to her in the past that donkeys are the cutest and best farm animals. I wrote her back -- “just say the word and I will throw at you a bevy of high quality donkey names” Now she’s said the word and…well… I was going to start her off with a dozen but I’ve become blocked.

I thought it would be funny to go veddy Brit w/ this –use an upper-class twit sort of name. All my brain could come up with was Allistair, Algernon, and Niles. Niles I nixed because it only reminds me of the old dude who was Rose’s boyfriend on the Golden Girls. Giles too, is no good (Buffy…which I didn’t even watch….spoiled that one). I typed “Algernon Allistair” into the ask.com search engine and one of the top results was this site called The Peerage ….which I just might make use of. It rather amuses me , the notion of culling a donkey name from that site.

The list is still in progress, but my #1 (that I put down immediately) is Donkey Kong. It’s a little simple…but it makes me laugh.

I will keep y'all posted on this developing story (hey, slow news day, eh?)

Pants, pants, pants, pants, fabulous PAAAANTS

I really do—for the most part--- like the pants I have on today. They’re a good pale shade khaki, and they fit me just perfectly thru the thgh & leg. But HOLY MOTHEROFPETE’SDRAGON are they tight around the gut!! I mean, it’s not only that the inner seams are embossed on my epidermis, but I think I might wind up with hairline fractures to my pelvic bone!! DAMN! I wonder if anyone has ever suffered organ dislocation due to too-tight pants.

And forget the “muffin-top” , I’ve got like, a “soufflé-top” going on (tell me: would Pop-over top have been a more comical/ effective metaphor??) I’ve even unbuttoned the top two buttons of my button-fly. Yep, right here at work. It pained me to do so (as I am generally a PARAGON of propriety) but it pained me even more not to do so…

But hey.. I lost 0.6 of a pound in the past week. If I keep going at this rate, these pantalones will be downright comfy in 9 or 10 years.

Spending, $pending....

I downloaded this iPod-to-PC transfer software that allowed me to fix my iTunes imbroglio. My laptop now has fully stocked, fully functional iTunes on it (that the pod is synced to! YAY!) So of course, this swell turn of events was cause for a little iTunes spending spree. Here is what I bought---
--Music--

*OMG [Usher] : I like the stadium chanting in this song. I am also--against my better judgement--heartily amused by the use of the word "boobies" in the lyrics. I will always, ALWAYS laugh at the word boobies. That's some 10yr old, dwarfed part of my psyche that I just can't seem to shake.

*Breakeven [the Script]

*The Equestrian Statue [Bonzo Dog Doodah Band] How terrif are the Bonzos?? If you have no clue, then I say you should acquaint yourself with them post haste and decide how terrific you find them.

*Button Up Your Overcoat [Bonzo Dog Doodah Band] I've always loved this song. Even though its message is bossy and possessive--technically. I find it very sweet. I sing it to my niecey all the time. Of course, the Bonzos put their own special spin on it, but they do it well, I think. I am pretty sure that line about "don't step on 3rd rails" was not in the original lyrics. Haa. Still, I most like the line "Keep away from bootleg hooch, when you're on a spree"


*Look out there's a Monster Coming [Bonzo Dog Doodah Band] I have Craig Ferguson's show for introducing me to this excellent song. My favorite part is the deadpan "Grunt. Grunt."


*Feeling Good [Nina Simone] This is another song I picked up from the telly. I had (and quite like) Simone's "My Baby Just Cares for Me" but that was on some jazz compilation I didn't know any other songs of hers. They featured this song on an episode of Chuck and I was taken with it, had to track down on the 'net what song it was. I like her kind of spare old-time bluesy singing juxtaposed with the big orchestral sound.

*Uprising [Muse]

*Rude Boy [Rihanna] I begin to suspect that I cannot resist songs that have "Boom Boom Boom" somewhere in the lyrics. Seriously.

*Carry Out [Timbaland avec JT] Timbaland & Timberlake ...these dudes were predestined to collaborate. This song makes my ass wiggle autonomously

*1901 [Phoenix] Looooooove this song. It kinda (for some reason I can't articulate) reminds me of "Kids" by MGMT, which I also have mad love for.

* Holiday [Vampire Weekend] J'adore Vamp Wknd --beaucoup j'adore. This is them at their bestest (well their best off "Contra" at least) And yes...I am well aware of how fucked up my francais is

*Cousins [Vampire Weekend]

*Horchata [Vampire Weekend] I predict this will be the first song ever to inspire me to go on a bev-quest. Where would one procure horchata? Anyone? Tips?? Suggestions???

* On the Street Where You Live [Mr Hudson & The Library] Yes, it's that "On the Street Where You Live"...My Fair Lady... Mr Hudson does Freddy Eynsford-Hill. Oddly cool. Me likey.

--TV--
*The Mighty Boosh- Episode 2.05 "The Legend of Old Gregg"-- I'm just getting into this show and am quite smitten, but I felt a bit reluctant to pay for an episode on account of Comcast offering up free eps on their Comcast on Demand. But I *had* to cast aside this reluctance for the Old Gregg episode. SO good. And at $1.99 it was cheaper than most of the TV eps sold on iTunes. I think I'm also going to shill out for episode 3.02 ("Journey to the Center of the Punk").

*The State --Episodes 2 &3-- No Barry & LeVon pudding time here, but still VERY funny


In other spending news, I kicked off the weekend buying a new wine. Actually it was a very odd grocery expedition yesterday. I went in to Shaws to buy Jello chocolate mousse but came away with--
XOCHiTL Cajun style tortilla chips-- XOCHiTL is a great brand. They're tortilla chips like I like 'em-- very thin & salty (although this Cajun variety is more spicy than salty) and they come in a GINORMOUS bag

Jones Brand 97% Fat Free Canadian Bacon-- Canadian bacon ROX. I think, as bacon goes, traditional American bacon (hereafter to be referred to as "BACON") is unquestionably superior. I mean, there's good reason that there's whole religions devoted to BACON. Nothin' can touch it!! Canadian bacon, though, makes for a stellar ham substitute. I mean, ham is generally pretty shitty for you, unless it's sliced microscopically thin. But Canadian bacon--3 thickish slices is a serving and 1 serving is a mere 1 point!! Yes, I am doing that again, but no, I don't really wanna talk about it right now.
La Vieille Ferme Cote du ventoux red wine -- I can't really say what type of wine this is--I guess it's sort of a melange. I was in the mood for a red and this one had a "Save $2 now!" coupon on the bottle. And yet, it had a very classy looking bottle. Honestly, I know next to nuttin' about wine and I very often make my decisions based on bottle label aesthetics. (In related news-- you generally can judge a book by its cover. Your frothy chick lit tends to rely on a lot of fluorescent colors--fluorescent pink especially)
Anyways, I tried this tonight and it was pretty decent... I like it better than the last wine I tested out on a whim (that was Malbec) My favorite red is still Beaujolais though

JELLO Mousse Tempations 6pack--"Chocolate Indulgence" flavor. OK, so it's not quite as great as the homemade stuff, but it certainly doesn't suck.

Now my omega-3 binging--

King Oscar sardines -mediterranean style w/ olive oil, black olives, garlic powder & red pepper. (2 cans)
2 packets Starkist Chunk Light tuna packed in H2O.

2 cans anchovies...I can't remember what brand. But after consuming 1/2 can of the sardines tonight, I have conclusively decided that I prefer anchovies to sardines

Also, I was really jonesin' for gorgonzola cheese but I forgot to grab some.

In line, I was staring at my groceries on the conveyor belt, and contemplating "What do my purchases say about me ??" I know that's goofy pop-psychology, but I always think that, simply because I am in the habit of ogling other shoppers' groceries (whoever winds up in line ahead of me or behind me) and trying to "profile" them based on those picks.

And today, I skipped my alumni float planning meeting (that, too, is another post for another day. Remind me..) and went to Big Lots instead. I hadn't been there in quite a while and of course found lotsa stuff I just HAD to buy. Some of it was for my sister's fam, which is good.. because I find that spending guilt is greatly alleviated when you don't keep the goods for yourself (makes sense).
For myself, I got-- a silver cuff bracelet, softlips brand 2pack of lip balm-- vanilla and sheer pink, Revlon ColorStay sheer in sheer Plum (I have this very same type lipstick in Coral & Ruby. I dig it mucho. I like sheer lip color--sheer or glossy-sheer. Y'know I've seen in magazines, where they do these articles highlighting beauty trends, and they spotlight matte lipstick and they show a whole myriad of starlets making matte lipstick look tres cute, but I swear, it always looks STUPID on yours truly) LaCrosse 3-in-1 manicure tool, a movie called Perfume ( their DVDs are $3!! How can I resist that??) a small photo book about porches (a coffee table book...but I've taken the liberty of stowing it pottyside in el bano) Pace 3 chili salsa, Mrs Penny's organic black beans (I'm on a bit of a bean kick right now... just realized how much I like garbanzos, actually)

For my sister I got a book about the town Celebration, FL. This is kind of a joke. When we were in the Kissimee/Orlando area on vaca back in 2004 we kinda blundered into this town and were freaked out by how eerily perfect the place was. It was very tidy. No toys in the yards. Not a lot of people around either. I thought it was funny to find the book (even funnier that it's published by Disney press...considering that Celebration is owned/was constructed by Disney, that makes the book pretty much a bulked-up brochure) I am going to give it to her and say, "Informative look at urban planning...or Stepfordian propaganda? YOU DECIDE"

For the kids I got-- Old fashioned sports-themed wall decals (this is specifically for my nephew Seth...they will fit in very nicely with his jocktastic room) DVDs-- Leonard Part 6 (ok, I think this movie was a big craptacular of Howard the Duck proportions, but I think it has a silliness that the kiddos will dig) and the Best of Beakman's World (I used to watch this show on Sat morns... I don't remember anything specifically except that one all-about-boogers episode when they crawled through a giant schnozz. Great stuff.

In closing, I apologize for such an immensely uninspired post. I felt like I hadn't posted in FOR-EV, and to get back into it with something clever and/or original it would take a hell of a jumpstart. A feeble post like this...it only took a weensie li'l jumpstart.

A'righty.. ciao for now, my lovies...

meet my baby tax attorney Agnes Q Vandersloot

There is a photo of a mystery baby in my office. This photo was on the floor, and somebody (we don't even know who retrieved it from the floor) believing it to be my coworker Holly's granddaughter, put it in Holly's stuff (Holly sits next to me in the office). Well, Holly doesn't know the mystery tot, but she presumes that if some random-ass picture appeared suddenly amongst her belongings, it was likely *me* that snuck it in there. That's a pretty reasonable presumption there, but in this case it was incorrect. Well, anyways, instead of asking me about the pic, she slid it on to the edge of my desk without a word while I was busy on the phone. And so suddenly, I see this Olan Mills photo of this baby girl with sort of a poofy "baby bouffant" coiffure and I'm like "WHO THE HELL IS THIS BABY??" I *try* and keep the at-work cussing to a minimum, but I happened to be rather frazzled on this particular day, and for some odd reason, a mystery baby cropping up on my desk just further stressed me out (when really it oughtta just be. . .bemusing, eh?)

Still don't know who the baby is or who the baby belongs to. I have slid the photo into the crack on the top of my glass half-partition so that she is standing up & facing out into the office. I'm hoping someone traipsing past will stop in their tracks and say "Heeeey--I have been looking EVERYWHERE for that fotografia!!" Haven't heard that yet though. But about a half dozen times a day now, I hear "Ohhh cute--who is this?" or "Is this your baby?" I quickly tired of the question and got bored with rehashing the true tale of the pic (as rehashed last paragraph... it was pretty dull, right?) So I've made it a game to ad lib some smart-ass or weird answer. "Who is that?" "Mrs Higginbottom, my cleaning woman" "Is this your baby?" "It could be YOUR baby...how much are you willing to spend??" (that one particularly shocked Holly...she simply does not see the comedic value of baby peddling, it seems)

I have also joked that if no one claims the bambina, I am going to take the photo and bring it with me to my 15 yr high school reunion (which really is going down next month) and pass her off as my little girl. I really do think my real progeny would be cuter (I mean you should see some of *MY* baby photos--I was effing ADORABLE!!) but I don't have time to crank one of thems out before June 19th, now do I ?? I'll be like..." oh yeah, I didn't mention it previously, but I like ....bred. I was totally going to mention it on the Facebook, but then people would be nagging me to post photos and this photo is the only one I have, and I couldn't scan it because our scanner would MELT the photo...for reals, it gets wicked hot. That's the last time I buy electronics from a van, man"
Ah, we are having a good chortle about it now, but I bet more people do that than you think (it doesn't just happen in ABC Family movies) And kudos to them if they can pull it off with a straight face. No, I shall 'fess up to being a childless singleton. And I feel like, if I'm not bringing a burgeoning li'l family to the proverbial table, I really should transform my singlehood into some glam Carrie Bradshaw style, jet setty singlehood. But then I think...what I should do is not give a rat's ass what anyone thinks of me. I hear people claim that all the time (that they don't care what anyone thinks of them) and I'm always very skeptical of those people. They are either lying bastids, or they are really something else--superhuman, subhuman or just defective. I mean, I don't think it healthy to OBSESS over what others think, but isn't it an intrinsic impulse, hard-wired into the human condition, to crave others' good opinions? I believe so. Yeah, those carefree "I don't give a damn what other people think of me" types...the vast majority is full of GUANO.

Eats

I shouldn't rave about junky food (lest I encourage naughty eating habits in those of you readers that idolize my opinions) but I cannot help it in this instance---

Chester's cheesy Puffcorn is utterly MAGNIFICO!! I cannot vouch for the butter flavor variety (not having tried it) but I can't imagine they'd be as good as the cheesy kind. With the name o' "puffcorn" and proclaiming on the bag "Unlike popcorn, no hulls or hard kernels!!" It apparently is being touted as some nouveau-popcorn, but I didn't enjoy it as such. Rather, I found it to be the ideal cheezy poof. There was some other brand cheezy poof that I used to get long ago that had just this same perfect consistency ( very airy, and just slightly less saliva-soluble than cotton candy) but I can't recollect what brand that was. It was maybe Jax or Stateline, I'm not sure, but I know I haven't been able to find 'em for quite a long time.

Okay, a footnote in my own defense--I had grilled trout and steamed kale and baked potato for my supper tonight (in other words, I don't eat crap food ALL the time..)

what's new pussycat--WOOO-OOAH!

Hey cats...how's tricks??

I took my tax refund (not all the $$ but a fatty chunk of it) and bought myself a laptop. Don't get me wrong-- I LOVE the thing (and I'm not just saying that because he's in the room with me now) but I haven't quite shaken off the pain of BUYER'S REMORSE. I haven't ever spent this much money in one sitting !! Ok, well, car buys not included...I never had any remorse when buying a car...firstly, there is no debating whether or not it's a necessary purchase (maybe if I lived in NYC or Boston I could debate it, but where I live--it's a slam-dunk MUST have) And secondly, I have always bought used cars (not that I wouldn't love me a shiny new ride, but I have a mighty aversion to taking on a new payment--and car payments are pretty substantial--when I have so many that I'm ignoring already) and they've all been thrifty buys--relatively.

But this purchase...not absolutely necessary, and probably not executed as thriftily as I coulda done. THIS is the one I bought by the way..I'm uhhh, mildly disheartened to see those less-than-thrilled-reviews NOW . As you can see, I didn't exactly " do my homework"...really did not make this decision the Consumer Reports way. I just went to Best Buy and wandered about the rows of laptops until I settled on one that had acceptable specs, an amenable price tag, and that I "had a good feeling about". Now of course, I'm not some kinda rube that thought the price tag price is what you **REALLY**pay . But I guess I hadn't emotionally prepared myself for the computer buying experience. I walked out of the store excited but also feeling a bit manipulated. I hate buying service plans, for one. Maybe it's New England-y and/or old timey of me, but I feel like if you patronize a store and choose to bestow your business on to THEM, then they should service your computer when it gets fucked up. But no, you can't turn to them for help unless you shill out an extra $220 for some 2yr plan. They should just, to use a trite turn of phrase, "stand behind their product". Ok, so they don't manufacture the computers they sell, but still... the point being, Staples is a hop, skip, & pirouette away from Best Buy and I could have easily gone there to buy a computer. I don't understand why, if the economy is in the shitter, and sooo many businesses are "on the bubble" (ummm, yes, I will skim over a feature from Yahoo! Financial on occasion) then why doesn't it seem like anyone is grateful for your business anymore? Some of the onus is on me--unquestionably-- I could have sought out a small, privately-owned business and I probably wouldn't have all these gripes. And I don't have a good reason as to why I didn't do that. Well, pretty much the same reason as why I didn't do any pre-purchase studying. Even though there was a good deal of moolah involved, this was essentially an impulse buy. I *could* have wandered the aisles of Best Buy taking notes on possible laptops to buy, but something in me was urging : Buy it before you lose the nerve!!!

Speaking of nerve, I still haven't mentioned to my father that I bought a laptop. It's stupid...ridiculous....I don't answer to my father and I shouldn't have to tell him I bought anything....or if I were to tell him it should be no big thing. But damn it, if the other voice in my head (not the "Buy it before you lose the nerve" voice..the counter-chorus) doesn't sound just like my Dad's voice. Yeah, I would SOOO prefer Jiminy Cricket, lemme tell yas!! Anyways, this voice would be the one saying "Save! Save! Save! You need to squirrel a li'l $$$ nut away for the imminent demise of your automobile!!" (it uses my dad's voice, but it has my superfluous vocabulary) It would be easier to tell that voice (and my father) to muzzle it, if I didn't see the very sound wisdom in that advice.

Well, I've got a grace period while my dad is at camp hunting--'tis the 1st weekend of turkey season don'tcha know?? He got a turkey yesterday morning and called---he told me the pounds and other specs of it, which apparently my brain did not retain (on account of ..yawwwwn) He's still hunting though, as you can get 2 birds per season (I always wonder if any hunter ever shoots a turkey and has it converted to cold cuts..if he gets another bird, I think he should try it) and probably he's enjoying a li'l break from my mom. Yikes, I don't blame him. I've been keeping an eye on her this weekend, and I told her I'd take her for a drive. After being asked "When are we going??" 10 or 15 times, I told her I'd get my ass in gear when 2pm rolled around. 'Kay so it's 2:05 right now, and she's told me about 3 times per minute in the past 5 minutes that "It's past two!! It's past two!!" I guess I can't defer wrapping this up any longer...

Will post again tonight methinks....

What an ordeal for poor JLo. I don't know how she could handle it (she's a better broad than I, I suppose) Working day in and day out for months with---

---and then going home to the pallid little wraith that is her husband.
OK, OK...totally shallow of me, I realize that. Maybe J-Lo didn't come away from "The Back-up Plan" shoot totally let down by reality. Maybe. (Oh, but come on...LOOK at that guy!)

Wishing all my freaky-wild amigos the happiest of Bicycle Days….

Reunited--and it feels so good

I am not really a Tom Hanks fan. His DaVinci Code hair grossed me out and, speaking of grody Tom Hanks (and going back even further) the whole premise of Big grossed me out. I guess that was more on account of Elizabeth Perkins’s character though. This broad schtupps a 12 yr old and— well, to her credit, she didn’t know that at the time—but I don’t think she was adequately mortified when she did find out. I think she’s sort of a pre LaTourneau LaTournea figure, si? That, in a nutshell, is my whole problem with that flick. Minor detail, perhaps, but it sorta sours the whole thing for me. Though it does have Robert Loggia in it, so it’s not a total waste o’ film.

Anyways, back to Tom Hanks. My DaVinci hair aversion aside, (and I’ve decided not to count the ickiness of Big against him) I just don’t get the appeal of Tom Hanks …especially not as a romantic comedy lead. Although I did really like Sleepless in Seattle, but I think that’s a testament to how very likable pre-Crowe Meg Ryan was. I totally love When Harry Met Sally and you’ve got to have a special kind of heroine to make you go along with Billy Crystal for a romantic lead. (“There is too much pepper on my paprikash. But I would be proud to partake of your pecan piiiiiiie.” Haa.) Oh, and a couple other Meg Ryan rom-com musts –a smidge obscure but waaay watchable-- Addicted to Love (w/ Matthew Broderick—I own this DVD) French Kiss (w/ Kevin Kline—I want to get that one; I don’t have it, but I’ve seen it like a thousand times somehow) Meg Ryan was so adorable…but then in the late nineties, a lethal combination of Botox and Russell Crowe sapped all the spark, & joi de vivre out of her. So sad. But I keep veering off topic. The topic is Tom Hanks.
I’m not anti-Tom Hanks. He doesn’t impress me, but he doesn’t impress me negatively either. I’m just kind of apathetic toward him. However, I read THIS today, and I do believe it moved my approval-meter a notch or two toward “Like” in regards to Hanks. Granted, it’s not stop-the-presses news, and it’s sure as hell not going to compel me to watch the TV Land Awards, but still it’s nice. It seems like, more often than not, big stars will shun their humble beginnings. For instance, I think we will see blizzards in Hell before we see Clooney make an appearance on a Facts of Life reunion.
So I find this news pleasing. Good on ya, Hanksie!!

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!!