Again: GRRRRRrrr!

Blogger is being a disobedient turd and I can't post my old pic of goofy looking vinyl clad trick or treaters. You can check it out for yourself here.

Which reminds me, I must give testomonial--Flickr is a very nifty site when searching for an image online. I have discovered I like it waaaay better than doing a Google image search. Methinks I will add it on to my list o' links....

Manga!!

I was compelled to order out for lunch, specifically, to get antipasto from a nearby Italian ristorante. Mmmmm MMM! Good impulse. Somehow between my car and my cubicle the antipasto got all jumbled and tossed around together but it's still very delish. If my parents could only see me chowing down now!! Because I have this aversion to certain foods touching on my plate, my parents have made me out to be some kind of extreme OCD case. I am fine with bacon snuggling up next to my scrambly eggs in the a.m. and I've no qualms with potato chips spooning with my sammich at lunch time...that's FINE with me. They've totally zeroed in on my practice (during Thanksgiving or other holiday feasts) of making a veritable Hoover Dam with my mashed potatoes to prevent my gravy from flooding my plate. No, that's innacurate really, it's not really a dam as much as it is a bird's nest...well, gravy nest. An incredibly structurally sound gravy nest. So yeah, I don't like all my eats to be swimmin' in gravy, and I HATE it when cranberry sauce infects my mashed taters (so much so that I've pretty much quit cranberry sauce completely) And it bewilders my whole family that I don't subscribe to their "It all goes to the same place!!" bit o' logic!! Well DUH-- it's the journey, not the destination, people!! I mean if co-mingling is SUCH a non issue for everybody, on account of the "It all goes to the same place!" rule, then I propose a liquid Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey-yam-potato-stuffing shakes for all!!!
Sorry...was carried off on a tangent for a bit there. Anyways, I was saying that I am perfectly fine with all the components of my lunch getting mixed around. There was a lotta stuff in the antipasto but the best bits were: proscuitto, roasted red peppers, black olives (they might be kalamata) marinated artichoke, 2 cheese chunks (1 mozzarella, and 1 parmesan-esque cheese...it wasn't parm though) chunks of pesto chicken, eggplant, little garlicky crostini toasts. Oh man, not to slight my French/ Scottish/ Irish ancestors but, the Italians really know how to eat!! Yummm.

I am determined to figure out how to get back onto Accuradio. It is my absolute FAVORITE online radio provider but since we changed computers in August, I've not been able to access it. And I am MIGHTILY vexed. Grrr! I think what I need to do is - in Symantec Anti-Virus, go to "Configure" and from there disable the Auto-Protect feature (just long enough to launch Accuradio, then I fully intend to reenable!) Problem being, when I get into Symantec, there is no "Configure" menu option to be found. ANYWHERE. So it's locked by the system administrator or something. System administrators are cruel, cruel bastards and as I may have mentioned before, I find myself rather vexed by the whole quandary. Oh yeah--mightily vexed. Mightily vexed, indeed. If it were some inferior form of 'net radio I would just say screw it and give up the pursuit. But Accuradio is sweeeeet. It has many commendable features, but probably my favorite is that if you happen to hear a song that particularly delights you, and you think, "Heeey, yeah, I could so listen to 'Tarzan Boy' by Baltimora again" then you can hit the STOP button on your player as you near the song's end and then hit PLAY , and it will start it over again. And you could listen to it over and over and over again (until you've figured out the lyrics maybe???) Here's another impediment to me getting Accuradio back on my work 'puter...ummm, we're not exactly supposed to listen to any 'net radio at all. CDs are okay, but streaming music is expressly verboten. Therefore, I can't really beseech my local IT stooge to aide me. I need to do it by my ownself. I need to find me a chink in the firewall. Damn corporate fun gestappo...harshing my mellow all the time. Ain't that just like THA MAN?

There are a couple of these plastic mask/vinyl smock Halloween get ups in my parent's basement...there's a Dracula, a Wonder Woman, & a Yoda. I do recall that I was the one who dressed up as Yoda, but I'm not entirely sure who donned the other 2. Anyways...I wish I still saw these Halloween costumes in the stores these days. Not that I'd be buying one or anything. It just saddens me, inexplicably, how these vinyl costumes seem to have "gone the way of the Dodo" as they say. It's like they're not good enough for today's kids. It was good enough for me!! What the hell ails the youth of America??

Sinfonia in Fmajor Grave F7: Andante

I'm listening to A to Z of Classical Music and particularly liking Sinfonia in F major. The only thing that sort of weakens its cred is that the composer's name was Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf. No joke. He was a real guy. If he'd had the foresight to realize he was going to compose great works that would resonate for centuries maybe he would've changed his name to something with a bit more gravitas. But then again, that would've robbed the von Dittersdorf name of future glory. So I guess I'm okay with his decision to remain Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf. Not that he needed my permission.

Ok truth is, I'm super tired today and I feel like arse. I don't really feel like posting today but I aim to be conscientious in at least one area of my life. So here you have it. I will try to be not so much of a crabby patty tomorrow, okay?

Happiness is... finding your skate key

What to do with my weekend....hmmmm... well I do have Lucy's birthday party on Sunday (she will be 2 on Oct 25!!) and her b-day gift only partially procured. I got her a hedgehog puppet and 2 books but I would like to get her somethin' else. Maybe a couple of outfits. And I need to get her a card. But that's not going to take up my whole evening + Saturday. Damned if I can't think of anything to do with my time.

Maybe I shall finish up "The Prestige". Ambitious plan, eh??

Could also work on finishing my Halloween costume. That needs to get done, and yet, I don't like my weekend itinerary to list any activities that include the word "work".

Awwww , shucks this has been such a dud of a post I'm not even sure I'm going to publish it. This crap should be scrawled on a post-it note, not proffered in a forum of wit and insight like this. I'm sorry.

Consider this finding to be a peace offering. It's damned good advice, kids. Also it is thought provoking... what kind of schools have both ostrich and abominable snowman pupils?? That is some mad liberal mainstreaming policy they gots goin' on...

Ciao until Monday dearies...

I'm an astute judge of (fictional) character...

I think I postulated in an early post that Ernie (yes, THAT Ernie...of Bert & Ernie fame) was not really the jolly good fellow that the American public is inclined to believe. Well, in my disjointedly varied web meanderings I have found further proof of this. From the venerable publication Sesame Street magazine....

These are both 1973 issues...I feel they validate my perception that Ernie, jovial and lovely orange hued though he may be, is essentially a self-centered BASTARD. Bert is undoubtedly the better Muppet and anyone who disagrees is just an ignorant perpetuator of UNIBROW PREJUDICE (and shame on you!!)

Well, let us go from the "Street" to the Runway shall we....

My favorite collection on last night's Project Runway was definitely Uli. My full rankings (from #1 favorite to #4 -worst collection)--
1. Uli
2. Jeffrey (a very close second, I'm afraid)
3. Laura
4. Michael (perhaps you should've let KITT help you design the collection??)

I liked every single piece of Uli's collection and I think that the judge's assessment was spot on (that she makes clothing that every woman wants to wear). My only gripe with Uli's collection was that a few of her dresses were hellaciously high-hemmed (HA!! Alliteration-yay!) Like, I'm talkin', cut right up to the cootah. Aye chihuahua!!! (I'm sorry...that was crass)

Another factor that made me prefer Uli's collection over Jeffrey's was the choice of tunes. I know that they're not really being judged on that, but I can't help but take that into consideration as I am a very musical gal (just ask any of my annoyed office mates). I really liked Uli's music...it was like funky fairytale techno. It was well suited to a runway show without being trite. But Jeffrey's music....blecccch. It SOOOO did not instill in me a lust for fashion. I think, instead, I craved OPIUM. Yes. That's IT exactly! That music made me want to die alone in a god-forsaken opium den. Maybe that was a tie-in to his whole Gothic Harajuku girls motif or whatever nutty backstory he was peddling. I don't care if it made things more cohesive...it DISPLEASED me.

Shitty music aside, there were a lot of pieces in Jeffrey's collection that I dug. His showcase stripey dress with the much ballyhooooooed zipper detailing was nice. Although my faves were 2 babydollish mini dresses he did, one of which was a sort of out of character dk blue one that all the judges were lukewarm about. There were a few shredded up separates that I just didn't get, but overall it was a decent collection. And innovative. That's the keyword, folks. That's why I KNEW he'd win this thing ( not all along, but after they'd all shown their Olympus collections, I knew) . The PR crew has always prized innovation above all. It trumps beauty 9 times outta 10 (unfortunately). And I have found that my fervent loathing of Jeffrey has dissipated and it leaves me only with a faint residue of apathetic disdain for the troll. After his multiple weepy breakdowns on this episode I think it's apparent that he only affected this ultra-defensive, prickly exterior in order to guard his tender inner Jeffrey. You know the real Jeffrey, that's a namby-pamby pastry puff. You may have won the competition Jeffrey, but also you tried to be the show's resident "bad guy" and you failed miserably on that count. In other words: Jeffrey, I've seen Santino, I know Santino. Santino is a favorite of mine. Sebelia, you are NO SANTINO!!! (the crowd applauds wildly)

Speaking of which, where is Santino anyway?? I can only presume that he turned down PR's pleas for him to shill Saturn Roadsters during season 3....I cannot conceive of the possibility that they did not even ask him...that--that-that's just crazytalk.

Not much to say about Laura's collection...it was gorgeous, luxurious, impeccably crafted...blah, blah, blah. Totally no surprises there. I suppose she could've kept the kooky chartreuse coat but I suspect they would've found a way to deride her for that too. Anyways, I particularly liked her long dress with the lattice-like pattern and her kicky li'l cocktail dress with just the faintest chartreuse bead trim at the top. I thought maybe as Laura swelled up and filled out in her gestational period, she might start empathizing with the more rack-tackular (or buxom-er) models and put them on the runway. But nope. She seems to have a genuine affinity for the Mr Burns body type. Maybe it reminds her of her sentegenarian hubby. Yuck. I can't believe she breeds with that dude.

Ohhhhhh MICHAEL. What the hell ails you? I have always really liked you, and so it pains me to say that your whole runway show was an embarrassing SLUT-STRAVAGANZA. Like, everybody in the audience was either stoic or uncomfortable, except maybe for Brandy but that girl is mentally on par with a Beta fish so not much consolation in that, I fear. Even worse than witnessing your collection was watching your stammering apologetic defense of it. "I-- I--I'm only 28!!" Oh waaah. The shrewd move would be a Santino-like shrug and just telling the judges to kiss your black arse. Ahhh, but that is not your way.

I miss you Santino. In my dream Season 4, Santino AND my sweet Malan (and his delightful MMMmmwaa ha HAHA) return to the show. If that were to happen---damn!--- it would take nothing short of a tornado ripping the roof off my house to get me away from the tube on Wed night.

Well I must jet, my pets....

some vittle chatter (slow news day)

I went over to my folks' last night for dinner. My dad cooked some ribs. These ribs --holy schnikey-- they were like the live-action equivalent of the cartoon ribs that toppled the Flinstones' car over. (Wilmaaaaa!)Ginormous. He said he bought them at BJ's but I suspect he made up that lie so as not to get in trouble with the game warden for shooting a Stegasaurus during doe season. I felt highly indelicate--primal even-- attacking such a meal. Like maybe I shoulda been squatting in the dirt wearing animal skins for the occasion. Probably the usage of utensils would have lessened that sense of devolution, but naaah. I'm not that big on utensils to begin with, and they are discouraged in traditional rib consumption protocol anyways. I mostly filled up on Brussels sprouts. I want to go on record proclaiming my intense & undying love for B-sprouts. They are so cute and delicious and good for you, but they get such a bad rap.

As is customary when I visit, I raided the parental fridge, made a tuna sami for today's lunch. I used a pita pocket that I was suspecting was going to be less than tasty as it had the consistency of tar paper. But the excellence of my tuna salad must've been contagious on contact because the pita sami ended up being pretty yummy. Forgive my boasting but I happen to hold a PhD in Tuna Salad Prepology. I make my tuna with mayo, scads of ground up garlic, a smidgeon of dill, a generous smattering of pepper and a wee tiny skoach of salt. Usually I like to add a li'l dash of lemon juice as well, but that wasn't on hand last night. That's a lot more ingredients than Food Network glamour puss Giada De Laurentiis uses to make tuna (I saw her do a tuna panini sammich on my first and last viewing of her insipid Everyday Italian show. Bah. Gimme Paula Dean anyday over that trollop) but she also uses CHUNK LIGHT tuna, otherwise known as the tuna that looks like catfood, so just how trustworthy is her culinary vision anyway?

Heidy ho, sports fans. Not much of anything to report on today, but I felt I should write just the same. I neglected the blog yesterday and this stabbing pang of regret is most vexing. I imagine that pang would
intensify if I skipped posting today too.

So a recap of my weekend...as briefly as I can manage. ...
Saturday afternoon I had a mini spending spree...dropped a bit of moolah at Encore Books and then at Kohls. The Encore purchases may not even count as vice, as none of the books I bought were for me. I bought an armload of books for the muffins. Encore has a really, really great kids book section. At Kohl's I bought new jeans and new black pants (both such wardrobe staples, they were truly PRACTICAL purchases) a necklace and this terrific cardigan.. Aforementioned cardigan may not even look good on me, my internal jury is still out on that point, but I had to buy it just the same. I love the color ...this really nice, TAUPE. Y'all don't know how badly my wardrobe was needing a shot of taupe, okay? And aside from the fab hue, it's is so soft and cuddly... even more so than the hide of the Great Northern Snugglemarmet...THAT is how damned snuggly the thing is. Doubtless you want me to put on the cardigan and come hug you, but I am sorry, I just do not have the time nor the resources for a N American hugging tour. Maybe in 2008. We shall see...

Speaking of the chunky oversize cardigan...I was reading in Allure (okay... parenthetical aside: I DO NOT buy Allure magazine, my sister does. And it was in her bathroom. Within arm's length of the toilet. Really, I'm very susceptible to reading just about anything whilest enthroned. If it had been a Field & Stream I'd found there, I would be telling you now about Elk Migratory Patterns in Northern Saskatchewan. ) how that is a big trend for Fall. In my expert opinion, I think the chunky oversize cardigan should be classed as one of those timeless classics that are exempt from "trend " status. It is something greater than fashion that moves people to don big cuddly cardigans in the fall...it is human nature. Furthermore, I suspect it is coded in our DNA to want to wear big cuddly cardigans in the fall. Those who do NOT wear big cuddly cardigans in the fall can be divided into 2 categories. Category 1 non-cardiganners are suppressing their innate genetic need to put on a cardigan due to an inordinately slavish subservience to the fashion mores of the season. Category 2 non-cardiganners are not suppressing any compulsion to don a cardigan... because they are cyborgs.
As you may have surmised by now, I am a big fan of the snuggly oversize cardigan. I have bought 2 already this month. Booooyah!!!

Then Sat night a bunch of us went out to dinner and then went to a bar called Shenannigans to catch a band. It was the much hyped reunion of the Davis Bros Garage Band...according to the ubiquitous radio ads for the reunion gig, the Davis Bros "rocked the Upper Valley 20 yrs ago". So yyyeeeah..the band wasn't bad, exactly, I just should've prepared myself for a night of .38 Special and Foreigner covers. Not exactly my cup o' chamomille, let's just say. However, that is not to say I didn't enjoy myself. There's a particular charm to an evening out in a bar full of the older set. You can just relax, no worries about prowling or presentation, chill with your beer and laugh at all the folks on the dance floor with Cosby-esque moves.

And then Sunday was dinner at my sister's. Which seems to be the tradition after we've done it 5 wks in a row now. Very Rockwell of us. And I mean Norman, not Barry Gordy's son who sang that terrific "Somebody's Watchin' Me".

Having a King Friday Friday

I was ruminating this a.m. about Mr Roger's Neighborhood and, in particular, the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. This topic was on my mind in part due to my choice of tee shirt (it's a lt blue tee with a drawing of Mister Rogers on it and it proclaims "It's Good in the Hood"...I tried to find an online pic of this tee to post here, but had no luck. Apparently it is one-of-a-kind Target couture or something). Also, my "Neighborhood" state of mind was due to my comrade Kara's recent (and unwarranted) dis of that show. I am not going to initiate a big debate here, but I will just point out that the Neighborhood of Make Believe is populated by hand puppets...NOT MARIONETTES.
But, a-hem, anyways... moving right along...
I've long thought that X the Owl was curiously named. It always implausibly struck me as a drug reference, as if Fred Rogers was hitting the rave scene(perhaps with his cohort McFeeley) 20 years before there was a rave scene. Yeah, yeah, I know--not very likely. And so the name X the Owl has continued to puzzle me. I may have had a breakthrough this morning though. I now have a viable theory on the matter, one that is at the very least more plausible than Rogers being some kinda innovator in the field of illegal party drugs. I shifted my focus from a study of the owl himself and concentrated more on his relationships with his fellow 'hood of Make Believe inhabitants. He is the most overtly attached to his nearby neighbor Henrietta Pussycat. That's Henrietta PUSSYCAT. The Owl and the Pussycat?? I can't believe I've never made the connection before!!! What if "X" is another way of saying "Ex"?? "Ex" as in "EX-HUSBAND"??? Nowwwww you see where this is going, eh, munchkins?? The crux of my budding hypothesis is that X the Owl and Henrietta Pussycat were once married. But one still wonders-- why are they such good friends (in fact, their pbskids.org online bio confirms that they are indeed friends-- best friends, at that)?? Why none of the bitterness and acrimony that is usually evident in divorcee hand puppets?? Well, there's the other part of my theory for you, the part more intuition-based that I have yet to factually substantiate. (that was a sort of disclaimer) There's something a little, umm, how should I say it...fey about X the Owl. And Henrietta Pussycat is really the feline puppet equivalent of a lonely cat lady (ohhh the irony). She's socially stunted and, to make life even more trying, she has one hell of a speech impediment. In short, she is just the sort of pussycat who, for fear of dying alone under a porch somewhere, would enter in to a SHAM MARRIAGE with a homosexual owl to shield him from the prejudicial malice of more butch owls (think : Woodsy). But in the course of this marriage a deep and profound friendship blossomed until X felt that a sham of a marriage was unfair to Henrietta and insisted on a divorce. And yet, X cares deeply for Henrietta and remains compelled to take care of her. And Henrietta still clings to X , because, as we've already established, she's a social 'tard. This explains their close proximity in their new living arrangements. I've seen these couples on the Tyra show, it is SOOO OBVIOUS that this is the case here. I don't know why they gloss over it in their pbskids.org biographies. The kids are young, okay, but they ain't BLIND!!

Don't get me started on Lady Elaine-- what an ornery drunkard that one is. I had no fear of slander charges whatsoever as I typed that-- it's as clear as the glowy red nose on her face that I speak the truth. As a museum owner/ proprietor I would think she would try to be a more respectable ambassador of the Neighborhood of Make Believe. I know if I was on the board of the N.o.M.B. Chamber of Commerce I would certainly not let Elaine join up ("Lady", my ass). And what kind of museum does she have there anyways---art, history, science?? WHO THE HELL KNOWS?? If I were to guess I'd say it was some kind of anthropological museum... the cultural history of angry alcoholic hand puppets or somethin' like that.

Well, I gotta jet right now or I'll miss the trolley back to reality. Will try to write more later!!!!

Awards show recap

The 2006 Golden Sanny awards were presented last night. Originally the awards show was to be broadcast on local public access cable station CATV8 but it was belatedly discovered that they had 3 hours of test pattern airing that could not be rescheduled. Undeterred by lack of press coverage, the posh gala went on as planned, in my apartment, with yours truly as host and presenter with celebrity co-presenter the guy who played Kevin on Mr Belvedere. Catering graciously provided by Friendly's.

Without further ado, the results ....(all nominees listed, winners in bold print):

BEST EVER FRANKIE VALLI & THE 4SEASONS SONG:

Sherry

Who Loves You?

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Let's Hang On

BEST PATTERN, 2006:

Houndstooth check

Argyle

Polka Dots

Paisley

BEST PIANIST:

Don Music

Schroeder

Sam (from Casablanca)

Rowlf the dog

BEST SONG TO PROMINENTLY FEATURE BANANA(S)

Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani)

The original Chiquita Banana jingle (Miss Chiquita/ Go HERE to listen to

this tune & on this site you may also hear the lameass modern remake)

Yes, We Have No Bananas

Day-O/Banana Boat Song (Harry Belafonte)

BEST PRESIDENT TO NAME A DOGGY AFTER:

Woodrow Wilson

Grover Cleveland

Rutherford B Hayes

Dwight D Eisenhower

GRODIEST POPULAR HALLOWEEN TREAT:

Cheap Franklin brand(I think that's the brand name) chocolate with H'ween themed foil wrappers

Popcorn balls

Candy corn

Eye of newt

BEST CRYPTOZOOLOGICAL BEASTY OF 2006:

Wendigo

Bigfoot

The Cupacabra

The Hodag

BEST SONG FROM GOLDEN ERA OF SESAME STREET:

Who Are the People In your Neighborhood??

Sing

We all Sing With the Same Voice (aka "My Name is You")

Everybody Eats

BEST HAT:

Bowler

Cloche hat

Conical Birthday party hat

Beret

"I swear on my fake balls.."

Yeeeah...best line of last night's Nip/Tuck episode goes to Larry Hagman (Burt). That made me chuckle. I suppose being able to say that would somewhat (but certainly not entirely) make up for having a pair of falsies. Maybe not.
Anyways, it would definitely be creepy having old Burt & his prosthetic kiwis watching you do it. But c'moooon! It's definitely not the kinkiest thing Christian has done. It's Swinging 101 stuff, really. You'll recall at the start of the season, he had a mother & daughter threesome--that has a way higher ewwww rating (I think). But I guess he's finding this so much more reprehensible because he's in loooooove with this Michele chick. Bah. I'm sick of her and sick of how sappy Christian is over her. The sooner she gets busted (& imprisoned) for kidney-napping, the better. She started off her Nip/Tuck stint as a cold bitch, all "I went to med school and I'm a smart one, also I have beaucoup bucks and I will bulldoze you with my wealth and power" but really quickly devolved into a pouty damsel-in-distress type. I would rather see Christian with anyone rather than her...was glad to see him seducing Kimber in the previews for next week's eppy. Actually, I think I'd like to see him hook up with crazy Dr BrookeShields. She's a crafty bitch, that one. And yeah, maybe a smidgeon off kilter in the noggin, but I prefer her over pouty Michele any day.

My cable was all screwy last night, and FX went out for a few moments when Monica got drilled by a vehicle (a bus, wasn't it?) But I did see the part with her hollering in the middle of the road, utterly heedless of traffic, and sensed then that a vehicle was going to mow her loopy ass down any second. Can I call 'em or what?? So that was a mighty convenient turn of events, really. The downside is that it seems to have sent Sean unequivocably around the bend, so to speak. One imaginary pal can be dismissed as mere quirkiness, but two??? Uh-oh. That's one pookah too many and he's officially and totally guano loco. Maybe Matt's Scientology posse can help him out??

Just spotted this news item. Strikes me as oddball. Although I do think if a gal is kept prisoner in a basement for about 9 years, consequent oddball behavior would be entirely understandable. She's a better lass than I, I must say. I imagine if I were in her shoes, I would only want ownership of that house in order to bulldoze the hellhole and I wouldn't give a sweet rat's arse where my captor's mother lived. But maybe not ... after all, I can't definitively say what sort of character I'd be after such an ordeal.

I think I've decided what I'm gonna be for Halloween but I am not prepared to tell. My costume concept requires some arts & crafts wizardry and assembly, and ya see, if I don't pull it off, my discretion at present will make it easier for me to pretend that the idea never was. I may or may not keep y'all posted...

I have a stash of Bazooka Joe candy (a Halloween assortment) at my desk. I'm thinking-- I would not be at all disappointed if they totally discontinued Bazooka Joe comics. They are invariably, without fail, UNFUNNY, "Hey Bazooka Joe, why did Mort throw a clock out the window?" "Because....he wanted to SEE TIME FLY!!!" HARDY FREAKIN' HAR HAR BAZOOKA JOE , THAT ONE'S AS OLD AS G.D. METHUSELAH, DON'T BE SUCH A NIMROD ALL YOUR FICTIONAL LIFE, OK? And yet I always read them, and it's always a big fat letdown.

Oh, how I wish that Big League Chew put out a bag of assorted Halloween treats. Now THAT is some high qual shit , the Big League Chew. It's got incredible flavor longevity, does not congeal into a hardy rubber that strains one's jaw, AND you get complete portion control. I can't say enough good things about Big League Chew. Well, I should stipulate actually-- this praise pertains to the pink, original recipe B.L.C. , as I have not had extensive experience with the more frou-frou gourmet flavors.

Okey dokey artichokeys...I'm fresh out of insight, wit, and nonsensical blathering. Adieu until the morrow...

Wishing you a verdi, verdi happy day!!!

I wanted to post a pic of Guiseppe Verdi in my previous post from today but Blogger was being a fickle bitch and I couldn't get it posted. So, to make amends for the delay and for my text-heavy, image free last post, I shall now put up two Verdi pics. Sooo yeah, some operatic eye candy for you...

I'll bet that made your day.

and WHO shall accompany me to the opera?? (don't everybody volunteer at once!)

Due to the fact that it's Guiseppi Verdi's birthday today, (Happy 193rd, Joe!!) I was lamenting the fact that I've never been to the opera. Robin and I were joking that we should ditch work early to go to the opera. But seriously, I DO think that I would dig that. I like what I've heard of Verdi, and the Flower Duets piece from De Libes "Lakme" opera is beautiful. So judging from that, I'm presuming that I'd like the music. There's just the small matter of not knowing what the hell is going on, plot-wise. But that could be easily remedied. Y'see, Verdi's wikipedia article, not only has his bio, but has synopses for his major operas. So, I would just hafta do my homework beforehand, maybe I would even print out those pages and tote them along to the opera house with me, like makeshift Cliff's notes. So, enjoying the music, and--after some study-- comprehending the story, I'm sure I'd have a grand time. Hey, Viv in Pretty Woman was moved to tears by her very first opera . And she was just a dumb whore. I think that I, not being dumb or whorish, would benefit greatly from the experience. My challenge is to find one of my comrades who is classy enough for the opera and who will not be embarrassed by me nerdily consulting notes (and/or possibly singing along)

Grrrr--my damn phone is ringing!!! Do these bastards not know I have lunch from 1-2pm?? I neeeeeed this hour to myself. If it weren't for my lunch hour, I'd be apt to perpetrate mass bludgeonings with my mighty Swingline. Um, a-hem..I should rephrase. Let me say instead that: I find that my daily 60 minute reprieve from work is instrumental to retaining my threadbare sanity. (I need to let some of my suppressed gentility shine through if I want anybody to hit the opera avec moi)

You know what is rad? This CD. It's not great for classical musical afficionados, but if you're just a dabbler (like me) it's pretty handy. I mean, it's good for when you know in general you like the genre, but need to delve more into it to ascertain what specific styles & composers you dig.

Really not much to report in mi vida not-so-loca as of late. Unless I am otherwise inspired, I think I will write about Orff's Carmina Burana in tomorrow's post....

MMmmm mmm meatloaf, milk, Monday

That's right, it's Monday, I'm munching a lunchie of meatloaf and milk and looking MAAAARVELOUS. And I'm listening to Verdi. Which doesn't really jive with my MMmmmotif but let's just be nonspecific and call it music. 'Kay...that works.

It's unusual for me to have a milk as my midday beverage, but I was spooked by some news item I saw on the 'net today about cola having ravaging effects on the bones. Now I dig cola too much to kick it completely, but this has made me consider cutting down. I am hereby resolving to drink more milk and beer. Probably I should drink more water--I don't mind drinking H2O, but my gripe with that is that I REALLY prefer Perrier or some bubbly kinda water and for some reason, bubbly water is not really peddled to the masses like flat bottled water is. What I mean is, you can buy flat water in pretty much any packaging you like -- 20 oz bottles, mini bottles, big milk jugs...whatever. But Perrier & the like-- your only option is really a liter bottle. NOT handy. I can't believe I would be the only one vexed by this...am I??

So here's my weekend in an idiomatic nutshell--
Saturday: Went to calling hours and funeral ( a friend's father died on Wed) afterward I went out for Chinese in Claremont (and I gotta give C-mont credit...they've got a lot more goin' on downtown than I'd realized. Makes me think maybe I've been missing out by just hitting Washington St when I visit) If you ever find yourself in Claremont NH (by some kooky happenstance) and you pop into CHINA DELIGHT for a meal, I strongly advise you: DO NOT GET THE GENERAL TSO'S CHICKEN. It was foul (haaaha ha. I'm pretty punny) I consider myself a bit of a General Tso's (in all its various names: General Tsau, General Gau, however you opt to spell the good General's name) afficionado. And this was unequivocably the worst I've ever had. One of my fellow diners had the same thing and she said the offense was an excess of soy sauce, but I thought it had a strangely sour taste to it (not salty like I associate with soy sauce) like as if they used VINEGAR. Anyhow, it was some naaaaasty stuff. But I can't give China Delight a flat-out bad review, because their boneliss spareribs were stellar. So, in short-- worth a visit, but steer clear of the General!!
Sunday: Went to Harpoon brewery's Octoberfest with Roxanne. Spent too much money on Octoberfest paraphenalia but I'm more or less unremorseful. I'm rather in love with my big beer mug and very in love with my Octoberfest tee-shirt (which I'm currently sporting today...one of the best perks of an absentee boss is wearing whatever the hell my mood dictates) I resolved once upon a time that I wanted to amass tee shirts from places and/or events I've been to. I mean a T-shirt from Harpoon's Octoberfest is really more worthwhile than some trashy tee that says "Vixen" in rhinestones or some such bullshit. It means something, it has fond memories attached to it for me and to others it communicates something substantial. I have been to Octoberfest. I like to drink beer. But it conveys something about me in a much more evocative & subtle way than say, a tee shirt that says "LUSH" on it with rhinestones. I suppose,at some level, I have posterity on the brain and some subconcious wish to create a legacy of cotton tees.

Well, I'll ramble more later. Gotta jet to meet Laura & Seth for dinner @ Friendly's....

Ciao babies!!

it's Humpty-Hump day!!

A'right stop whatcha doin' cause I'm about to ruin...tha image and the style that ya used to...


Since I had the damnedest time trying to get my link in my Tues post to go to my Lush wish list (it links to the site, but won't link to my wish list) and I still don't think I got it right, I am going to lace this post with pics of all the product you'd have seen, had you been able to access my wish list via my helpful (but malfunctioning) link from yesterday.

In the ladies room here at work they just installed a new mirror. We had a perfectly operational mirror in there already, I dunno what the f. is up with that... Now the mirror we've had in the lav, it was a shoulders and up view, ideal for hair touch-ups and checking to see if you've got crud stuck in your teeth...and it was FINE. But now, additionally, we have a FRIGGIN' HUGE mirror that looks like it was ripped off from a dance studio. Who the hell asked for that??? Now I can catch glimpses of myself as I emerge from the stall (a bit weary, haggard, but with pants fitting a smidge looser) in total full-length splendor. Oh goody! Note to management: I have already decided on my outfit du jour. I did that before I got here today. Now, making me second guess myself is only going to impact my productivity in a NEGATIVE way.

I have started to read the novel "The Prestige" and hope to have it finished by the time I see the movie. It's not quite "grabbed me" yet, but I'm really not very far into it.

This Rice Krispies treat I'm currently ingesting has on its packaging this big jubilant font proclaiming: "1.7 OUNCES!!" Well, yowza! That's nearly 2 whole ounces! I'm surprised I didn't need a damned forklift to get it from the vending machine to my cubicle!! I suppose it woulda killed 'em to throw in that extra 0.3 of an ounce. The store bought ones are never quite as good as homemade, I feel. It makes me wonder, just how do they manage to fuck up a rice krispie treat? Seems pert near impossible to do. Maybe they add some kind of not so yummy chemical perservative that gives the treat a shelf life of a decade.

yard sales and birthdays

Here's a gimmick for a yard sale....advertise and then show up. Just put your ad in the paper: "Sat Oct 7, yard sale at 1313 Mockingbird Lane starting at 9am" or whatever. And then open up your garage and plunk your ass down in a lawn chair at 8:58am on the chosen day. All the pain in the ass stuff that makes having a yard sale such a bother? The sorting, the organizing, the pricing, the putting out of things on display tables?? Fuck it!! Don't do it!! Let the yard sale vultures do the grunt work for you!! You could just post a sign proclaiming: "Bienvenidos, motherf****ers!! Pick through my junk. Make me an offer." Gosh...I wonder if that would work??? The success of this scheme relies on one thing (and it's not the quality of your junk, as any type of yard sale, depends on that for its success) --the rabidness of your patrons. I bet if you lucked out and had some true yard sale ADDICTS swing by your casa, then they just might be down for it. Also, might there not be an added voyeuristic thrill to such a yard sale?? Now, if I was ever out cruising yard sales and hit upon one like that...well I wouldn't stay longer than 5 min tops. But then again, I'm no die-hard yard saler. I'm more of a yard sale dabbler, really.
Usually it's spring or summer when a young gal's fancy turns to yard sales. However, I was tasked tonight with sorting through crap I had stored in my parents' garage. That is what moved me to ponder such topics. I hate, HATE , HATE going through my old junk. So that's the sort of fantasy that sprang to mind-- rabid yard saleing scavengers arriving unexpectedly and spiriting all that stuff away. Another dream scenario-- dumping everything into a ginormo bonfire. But I don't know that that's quite legal. And in VT nowadays, well, your neighbor is quite apt to narc on you to the local po-po if you so much as burn a handful of newspaper in your backyard. Not only do I hate the manual labor part of sorting out my old stuff, but I also hate that it FORCES one to dwell on the past...the fleeting nature of time...all that deep stuff. Oy. It's like doing an archealogical dig to study yourself. I hate it!! Ok, and as if the chore was not horrid enough my Dad brings up this GINORMOUS tub of old clothes from the basement that he just presumes are all mine (some of them were). My job was already daunting enough with just the garage stuff to dig thru...now he was adding more from the basement??? Well I looked in the tub and said "Well, I can tell you that only some of that old clothing is mine, but I am NOT going to sort through it.. I don't want ANY of it. Anything of mine in there you can toss into the rag pile or bring to the thrift shop" 'Cause I could see at first glance that the most current thing in that box was from 1990 (at the very latest). So as I'm digging through my garage boxes I have to listen to my Dad sort through this tub of clothes. I am one who can sort in silence...for my father that is utterly impossible. He picks up everything, unfolds, and holds it up "What's this? What's this?" like he can't manage basic garment identification without everybody else's input. And then there's the running commentary-- "There must be a hundred dollars worth of sweaters in here!!" "Body Glove--oh this is a nice one--I bet Laura'd might like to keep this" (this is said sincerely. No hint of sarcasm, like you mighta expected) "Varnet Paris...I bet Laura got this when she went to France." (again, this is said in all seriousness). His obvious fave was the oft repeated "Probably worn once!!" or "Bet this was worn once and then thrown out". I was mightily vexed, but I was able to keep it suppressed.

So at the same time that I've got this growing weariness with my accumulated possessions I somehow have this contrary record spinning in the jukebox of my brain. And insanely enough, the name of this record is "STUFF I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY" Sheeeesh...as if I need more stuff. I got stuff coming out the hooooHA. But I enjoy b-day gifts. And as I've pointed out before, I'm not going to enjoy birthdays (nor birthday related spoils) for too much longer. So here's the website of LUSH...a company I discovered while on vaca in Canada. They have a shop in the Byward Market region of Ottawa. Very rad stuff. I bought a lip balm which I'm not overly crazy about but I bought Karma fragrance dusting powder, which is nice, and this solid shampoo puck that I love, LOVE, LOVE!! The link, by the way, goes right to my wish list (happy shopping, amigos!)!!!

Laugh already, you big dummy!!

I happened upon that quote (at left) this a.m. in my online meanderings. Not brief enough to be catchphrasey, but I do like it. It upped ol' Shakey's stock for me...y'know in that make-believe stock exchange in my head. Although, he was already a hot stock anyway ...it's a Bard's market. Ouch, I am ill-equipped to do Stock Market humor. HOWEVER, if I am to subscribe to this sentiment here at left, it is absolutely irrelevant how lame-ass my Shakespeare stock joke was...it's solely your fault if you remained unamused. Honestly, I am not so absolute in my take on it...I think it's apt to be either-- sometimes it's a faulty joke, sometimes a dim audience. But it probably was a big help to Shakespeare to have such a haughty attitude about it. That's how he could be such a prolific playwright...he could just crank out the work with minimal fretting over whether or not his audience will "get it". If they don't get it...it's their fault for being stupid. Sweeeet.
You know when you've tried to be cute/witty/hi-freakin-larious and are met with dead silence (the beneficiary of your humor, that ingrate bastard, does not even have the social grace to fake amusement) and then you feel like an ass? Maybe next time I have one of those moments (and they are not infrequent por moi, I'm afraid) I will try--if I remember to-- to quote this snippet o' Shakespeare, adapting the persona of the biggest intellectual snob ever.

My boss is out today. It seems she broke her ankle in 2 places in a fall from a chair. I prefer to think that she was hangingup some kind of Halloween garland at the time. It could be that she was standing on a chair in the course of some drunken revelling, I don't know for sure that that wasn't the case. But that 2nd scenario makes me snigger and how callous of me to snigger at someone with a smashed-up ankle?? I don't want to be a callous meanie of a person. So, until the official report is released, we're going with the assumption that Mags had a nasty holiday decorating accident.

Truly, I can't snigger (or snicker, if you prefer) ...if it was just a broken ankle, yeah, I possibly could, but I guess she bonked her head too. And that stuff is scary. Unless you have the amazing luck of Doc Brown and conceive of something amazing like a FLUX CAPACITOR by bonking your head on the edge of the bathtub. Welllll, that would probably still be pretty scary while in the moment, but y'know, down the road, after you've converted a DeLorean into a WORKING TIME MACHINE, you're probably thinking "Gee whiz, I guess that bonk on the noggin wasn't all that bad". I wonder if Maggie came up with any decent inventions as a result of her Halloween decorating mishap. ....Shit, that was bad of me...not sniggering, exactly, but I'm being glib. Head injuries do really freak me out. I suppose jokingly alluding to 80s movies is a way of seeking solace for me. Really, I am not a cold-hearted bitch---honest!!

Justice prevails

So I've been saying repeatedly that Alfonso Ribiero was the most spectacularly talented thang on the Celebrity Duets stage. Well, not sure that I said that verbatim, but that has been the gist of 4weeks of Celebrity Duets related blog blathering. And even though I knew he was the most deserving contestant, I was unsure whether he'd win or not. Even when he made it to the final 3, I was unsure. Because he was up against Lucy Lawless who has a fan base primarily comprised of sci-fi nerds and that is a particularly rabid sort of fan. And Hal Sparks has been promoting himself for a couple weeks as like a "dark horse candidate"...and that's lame, because if you're a true dark horse, or underdog, you just ARE and you can't be all aware of it and exploiting it. But my faith in justice is partially, somewhat, and in a small way restored because the right man won.
Yaaaaay! BIG hooray for Alfonso!!!

They had a lot of time to fill in the final episode, what with only 3 performers left, and consequently they wound up with scenarios like Wayne Brady singing with Boys II Men (as if that had anything to do with anything) and then all the Celeb Duets contestants singing a medley of David Foster songs (with Foster on piano). Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that Foster penned one of my all time favorite Chicago songs ("Hard to Say I'm Sorry"). Ah hell, I guess he can't be all that bad...
As for the Boys II Men performance...they went from "I'll Make Love to You" to "End of the Road" and I barely even noticed they changed songs. That is not a good thing, I don't think. I wish they woulda thrown a little "Motown Philly" in there, but they had Brady as guest singer and, great virtuoso though he is, I doubt he'd be able to keep up with those def jams, yo.

I'm not usually one to be blindsided by "shocking twist endings" that TV shows manufacture for the end of their seasons. I've got like, a BLACK BELT in boob tubery, so I generally see these things coming. That said, I've gotsta give the Project Runway folks mad props. They achieved the generally unachievable and surprised me with a late season plot twist. To have 4 people show @ Olympus, yeah that is unprecedented, but to have a challenge with NO ELIMINATIONS?? Now that is what really knocked me on my ass!! I mean, this show has always been mad-preoccupied with conveying the utter ruthlessness of the fashion world. Exhibit A-- They've got Heidi Klum saying 9000 freeeakin' times per season "In fashion, one day you're in, and the next you're OUT" Exhibit B-- They keep bringing back that bitch-on-wheels Nina Garcia along with Master-of-the-Catty-Snark Michael Kors (anyone else think he looks approximately the same age as his mom? I know, I know, that's going back quite a few eppys..sorry) Anyways this past episode everyone was as bitchy and hypercritical as usual, but when they had the bottom two on the stage--Jeffrey & Michael-- they suddenly ambush with these (gasp!!) smiles and (holy shit) HAPPY ENDINGS!!! Which was great, really, because I didn't want to see Michael sent packing although, woooah--he shoulda been. His slutty dress was a Tara Reid incident waiting to happen. And it pains me to say this but....I REALLY liked Jeffrey's dress.

I've been on a hell of a classical music kick as of late. This is what I've been listening to at work. My favorites on the CD are-- Disc One: trk 2,trk3,trk8 & trk 18 Disc Two: trk1, trk2,trk3,trk4, trk10,trk12,trk17, & trk19.
I wish I could share the music with ya on here, but probably the FBI Music Piracy Squad would hunt me down. I used to use Kaaza too, so that means I'm apt to be on their "People to Watch" list, right?? Anyways, I'm finding myself particularly fond of Verdi's "Anvil Chorus" & Satie's "Gymnopedie #3" which is really lovely.

Half-pint, we hardly knew ye!!!

Has Nip/Tuck won any Emmys?? I know that some of its cohorts on the much-acclaimed FX network have... but I believe Nip/Tuck has thus far been snubbed. WELL, I think Julian McMahon should get an Emmy solely for being able to deliver a line like "And how did your nipple get into a dogfight?" without breaking out in hysterics. Granted, Nip/Tuck is not taped live, so possibly it took him multiple takes, but ultimately he pulled it off. I don't know if I could've ever said that with a straight face....and to have to say it to LAURA INGALLS WILDER, no less!! Wow. And then when the sick chick was revealed as a ...uggggh...dog violator, Julian's eyebrows did some stellar acting. Shot up like rockets, they did.

As for Melissa Gilbert's cameo...maaaan. That's sure gutsy... I guess? Is that going to be filed under the "triumphant return to TV" heading?? I dunno. For sure she wanted to breakaway from her squeaky clean image -- her "Little House" years & countless stints as the heroine of various Hallmark channel movies. But she broke so far, far, faaar away. Let's hope for her sake she's not now typecast...y'know, the go-to actress whenever H'wood has the role of "Bestiality Perv" to cast. Again..ewwwwwwwww.

So is Peter Dinklage's character (can't recall the nurse's name) being paid to be a murallist?? Ok, well I do like the mural...it's very Rousseau-esque. I'm just wondering what this nurse is doing with the baby, if anything. I just don't get what his job is (aside from being a muralist and resident sage). He's hired to be a night nurse if I recollect correctly. Does he just watch over the baby...guard him from the boogey man, make sure the mobile doesn't fall on his head in the middle of the night?? I don't get the point of it, but maybe that could be attributed to my lower middle class background, my not being accustomed to households that had hired staff. The guy seems to know he hasn't got much to do really, and is trying to compensate to really earn his paycheck. That's why all the mural painting and wisdom dispensing. I just wish the rest of that nursery matched his excellent mural. The rest of the nursery is very blah....a totally trite cliche of nursery decor. Oh, and the name CONNOR looks dumb with only one "n", people...

I could only get through a third of the roast beef sammi I got outta the vending machine for lunch. What on earth made me think that a roast beef sandwich I got out of a vending machine would be acceptable?? Such folly!! I do like roast beef, but I am exceptionally particular about roast beef. More so than I am with any other lunch meat. I never like it when it's too red. I realize how grody it sounds to say I like grey meat, but that is the case. The label I got on this sandwich described it as "Olde Neighborhood Roast Beef". Unless "Olde Neighborhood" is a brand name I have no clue what that's supposed to mean. What do these people know about my old neighborhood OR the kinds of lunchmeat available there?? How awfully presumptuous!!! The only place where I can consistently rely on a tasty roast beef sammich is when I get it at Panera's.

Also in our cafeteria vending machine, they had Mortadella sandwiches. What the hell is that?? Well come to find out (after hitting my online dictionary of choice) it's just fancy Italian bologna. But I really oughtta compose a memo to the folks at Alan's Vending (post my manifesto on a vending machine like a latter day Martin Luther) and inform them that if you have to look something up online to find out what the hell it is, it's probably not gonna sell well. Also, I want them to make pumpkin bread. They make pretty yummy pumpkin bread and 'tis the season for that kind of fare...

Artsy Fartsy time

The other day I was wandering aimlessly on the 'net, trying to find a picture of particularly powerful pulchritude (ha) to adorn my computer desktop. I kinda ran out of time and settled on the picture you see here at left...

Go here to see the high-def. GINORMOUS version that I put on my desktop.

As I'd said, I kinda ran out of time to find something and just settled for this one. Which is not to say that I don't like it, it's just not what I was looking for exactly. But y'know....the more I stare at it, the more it intrigues me. Methinks I shall let it remain on my desktop for a spell. It's by Georges de la Tour, a French Baroque era painter who lived 1593-1652. I'm generally not that into pre-nineteenth century stuff. I'm really a sucker for the whole Pre-Raphealite asthetic--Waterhouse and all that crew. I think pre-1700 and I imagine ancient SCARY art...something along the lines of like Hieronymous Bosch (yyyyikes!!) But even though the subject in this work are wearing obviously 17th century attire--- the crazy epaulets and boobie-smashing bodices--- there's something about his painting style that strikes me as modern. I dunno, I dunno, I clearly do not know what the hell I'm talking about. I started to read an essay on de la Tour where the writer opened by comparing him to Vermeer, and I kinda see the similarity.

Here is what is intriguing me (thus securing this piece's place on my desktop for the time being)
It's called "The Card Sharp" this piece, and pretty obviously de la Tour is referring to the player in the left side
foreground. He maybe "sharp" but he's not exceedingly slick. Even the serving wench can tell he's cheating. Another thing I noticed about this strangely contorted cheater--you have to look at the blown-up high res image to catch this though--the guy looks exactly like Rob Lowe. Eerie. It might be that Rob's great-great-great-great-great-great-great (how many greats do I need to do to get back to the early to mid 1600s??) great great grampa looked EXACTLY like him, but I highly doubt that. I suspect, rather, that I've hit upon one of the greatest uncovered celeb secret of our time. ROB LOWE IS A VAMPIRE!!

It's also possible that the serving wench (are those anchors on her blouse??) is not on to Rob Lowe's disingenous sporting maneuver.... her and the bosslady could be exchanging looks about the card player at far right who may well be an adolescent girl in drag. She like, read it in Twelfth Night, and thought that just anyone could go incognito as a man in real life but she's not fooling anybody, although nobody's letting her know that they ain't fooled. I mean look at that look...the serving wench gives the bosslady a look of "What the hell is THAT all about???" and bosslady's clearly shooting back an "I KNOW!!!!!"

Ok so, I'm no Sister Wendy, but that's my take on "The Card Sharp". And that concludes the cultural portion of my blog......FOR TODAY. Be forewarned...I aim to show my readership (all 4 or 5 of youse) that I am not only a couch-tater...I can do multi-faceted. Or try to.

Oh, and as for the Wizard of Oz trivia... in the book, Dorothy's kicks were silver. Apparently when they shot the 1939 movie, they found that on film, silver didn't look so hot against the Yellow Brick Rd so they altered the hue de shoe.