Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Friday Flip Offs - Devil's Night Comes Early
Oh, it's that time again. That time when I can let loose the anger that has been stewing.
Without any further ado:
Flip Off Cold Halloween Nights. What a bummer for kids to have great costumes and then have to cover up in winter coats because it's 40 degrees. Come on, weather. Cut us a break. I want to see the princess without the down jacket.
Flip Off Slow Internet Connections. Honest to god, AT&T, you guys are belligerent wankers who are doing your best to make me CRAZY with the dawdling. How is it so hard to UPLOAD A PICTURE??? It's taking forever. Somehow, this is worse than dial-up.
Flip Off Running Out of a Key Ingredient While Cooking. Like, say, making chicken stir fry and having everything ready and chopped and cooked and good to go and then reaching into the fridge for the soy sauce only to find . . . nothing. No soy sauce. Anywhere. Still, as a silver lining? Fried rice sans soy sauce is not too shabby!
And finally,
Flip Off People Being Mean to My Kid. You may be a kid yourself, but you'd better watch your step. I will end you.
What's making you clench your teeth today?
Without any further ado:
Flip Off Cold Halloween Nights. What a bummer for kids to have great costumes and then have to cover up in winter coats because it's 40 degrees. Come on, weather. Cut us a break. I want to see the princess without the down jacket.
Flip Off Slow Internet Connections. Honest to god, AT&T, you guys are belligerent wankers who are doing your best to make me CRAZY with the dawdling. How is it so hard to UPLOAD A PICTURE??? It's taking forever. Somehow, this is worse than dial-up.
Flip Off Running Out of a Key Ingredient While Cooking. Like, say, making chicken stir fry and having everything ready and chopped and cooked and good to go and then reaching into the fridge for the soy sauce only to find . . . nothing. No soy sauce. Anywhere. Still, as a silver lining? Fried rice sans soy sauce is not too shabby!
And finally,
Flip Off People Being Mean to My Kid. You may be a kid yourself, but you'd better watch your step. I will end you.
What's making you clench your teeth today?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Scary Movies, Scary Realities
The girl had a horror movie party Saturday night. She likes to have friends over to watch spooky movies, and then they cackle and commence to howling about the gore and the scariness and the ghoulishness. They aren't very discriminating in what they watch. Movies about aliens and zombies and boogey men. Movies that are maybe 90 minutes long, but have a run time of twice that because of all the pausing for bathroom breaks and giggling and "What the heck was that?"
Saturday night, she had about 14 kids over [I know, what the hell was I thinking? I'll tell you what I'm thinking now: NEVER AGAIN. Until she asks again. Because I am nothing if not a sucker.], and about 6 of the girls ended up staying the night. Whereupon they stayed up all night, causing a frightful noise, making me feel like a zombie in the morning.
Also kind of making me wish I had a cauldron to toss them all into.
Since we don't live in a mansion, and teenage girls evidently have no volume control, we could hear what they were talking about. Some of it silly, and some of it frightful, all of it punctuated with squeals and laughter. Fun times and fun kids having fun in a safely scary environment.
Still, I have to say, there are a few girls among my daughter's friends that I find . . . kind of wicked. I am not a fan. I try not to be the blanket statement parent, the one who says, "You are not seeing What'sHerName anymore, she's awful." I know that doesn't work, and even if it did, I don't expect to be able to pick my daughter's friends for the rest of her life [although if only. . . ] and I want her to be able to make smart choices about who she brings into her life.
As I said, a few of these girls are wicked. Not Wicked Smart, or Wicked Cool, or even necessarily Wicked Malicious. More like Wicked Oblivious. So involved in their own dramas, that they don't see [or won't see] how their shitty behavior affects the people they are supposedly friends with.
And so we have the post-party dance, of what happened and who said what and hmm . . . that doesn't seem like a nice way to treat someone, does it?
And still I have to wait for her to make the decision. To decide who she wants to be friends with and who she considers cool and who she decides is good enough.
That, I think, is the scariest prospect of all.
Saturday night, she had about 14 kids over [I know, what the hell was I thinking? I'll tell you what I'm thinking now: NEVER AGAIN. Until she asks again. Because I am nothing if not a sucker.], and about 6 of the girls ended up staying the night. Whereupon they stayed up all night, causing a frightful noise, making me feel like a zombie in the morning.
Also kind of making me wish I had a cauldron to toss them all into.
Since we don't live in a mansion, and teenage girls evidently have no volume control, we could hear what they were talking about. Some of it silly, and some of it frightful, all of it punctuated with squeals and laughter. Fun times and fun kids having fun in a safely scary environment.
Still, I have to say, there are a few girls among my daughter's friends that I find . . . kind of wicked. I am not a fan. I try not to be the blanket statement parent, the one who says, "You are not seeing What'sHerName anymore, she's awful." I know that doesn't work, and even if it did, I don't expect to be able to pick my daughter's friends for the rest of her life [although if only. . . ] and I want her to be able to make smart choices about who she brings into her life.
As I said, a few of these girls are wicked. Not Wicked Smart, or Wicked Cool, or even necessarily Wicked Malicious. More like Wicked Oblivious. So involved in their own dramas, that they don't see [or won't see] how their shitty behavior affects the people they are supposedly friends with.
And so we have the post-party dance, of what happened and who said what and hmm . . . that doesn't seem like a nice way to treat someone, does it?
And still I have to wait for her to make the decision. To decide who she wants to be friends with and who she considers cool and who she decides is good enough.
That, I think, is the scariest prospect of all.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Honest to god
It's like I'm congenitally unable to actually finish whatever it is I'm currently doing before I start on the next thing on my list. For example: Write thank you cards - I will address them all and then stop and do something else and then go back to writing them out and then. THEN! When I am on my last card I will suddenly SWITCH to the next task. Because why? I don't know.
I'm still holding on to the card. It's right in front of me. But now I'm googling information on what I can use to replace buttermilk in a recipe [hint: you can make your OWN buttermilk by adding vinegar to regular milk, but that's too science experiment-y for me, so I just don't make the recipe]. And then I have to get up and find the stupid eye glass cleaner wipes because I can't see out of my filthy, filthy glasses [seriously, it's like my eyeballs spew oil] and then I sit down again and THERE IT IS. The card. That I still haven't written.
So of course, I immediately remember that I have to print something, except I fucking hate printing stuff like you would not believe. A white hot hate. A hate that would melt your face like in Raiders of the Lost Ark. A hate that . . . why, you ask? Because my laptop isn't hooked up to a printer and we don't have wireless printing [because we are in the dark ages and are really, really uncool] and I have to UNPLUG and MOVE my computer and slide my chair about 3 feet across to the girl's desk where there is a printer and then I have to PLUG IN the printer and then -
Ugh. Forget it. Too exhausting.
It's a wonder someone hasn't put me out of my misery.
I'm still holding on to the card. It's right in front of me. But now I'm googling information on what I can use to replace buttermilk in a recipe [hint: you can make your OWN buttermilk by adding vinegar to regular milk, but that's too science experiment-y for me, so I just don't make the recipe]. And then I have to get up and find the stupid eye glass cleaner wipes because I can't see out of my filthy, filthy glasses [seriously, it's like my eyeballs spew oil] and then I sit down again and THERE IT IS. The card. That I still haven't written.
So of course, I immediately remember that I have to print something, except I fucking hate printing stuff like you would not believe. A white hot hate. A hate that would melt your face like in Raiders of the Lost Ark. A hate that . . . why, you ask? Because my laptop isn't hooked up to a printer and we don't have wireless printing [because we are in the dark ages and are really, really uncool] and I have to UNPLUG and MOVE my computer and slide my chair about 3 feet across to the girl's desk where there is a printer and then I have to PLUG IN the printer and then -
Ugh. Forget it. Too exhausting.
It's a wonder someone hasn't put me out of my misery.
Truths
* Lighter colored nail polish dries 77% faster than dark colors.
* Men with the name Wayne [first or middle] are either serial killers or perverts.
* The theme to Chuck "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake is awesome.
* Caramel cake is so tasty you'd better believe you're going to have a piece, even though it makes your stomach hurt later.
* Looking for dining room furniture is a pain in the ass, because there is nothing about a dining room set that makes your heart go pitter pat, but it's a hefty investment, so you WANT to feel like you've fallen in love, but basically it's a long piece of wood with some chairs that you hope are comfortable enough to sit in for the duration of a meal.
* It's o.k. to be annoyed with people who sneeze more than twice. They're just doing it for the attention.
* I'm going to drop down to 5 days a week of posting.
* Leave your crooked pictures alone. This will drive one of your friends crazy and then they'll fix it and feel like they've accomplished something and you don't have to spend your time trying to make everything level. Every body wins!
* Men with the name Wayne [first or middle] are either serial killers or perverts.
* The theme to Chuck "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake is awesome.
* Caramel cake is so tasty you'd better believe you're going to have a piece, even though it makes your stomach hurt later.
* Looking for dining room furniture is a pain in the ass, because there is nothing about a dining room set that makes your heart go pitter pat, but it's a hefty investment, so you WANT to feel like you've fallen in love, but basically it's a long piece of wood with some chairs that you hope are comfortable enough to sit in for the duration of a meal.
* It's o.k. to be annoyed with people who sneeze more than twice. They're just doing it for the attention.
* I'm going to drop down to 5 days a week of posting.
* Leave your crooked pictures alone. This will drive one of your friends crazy and then they'll fix it and feel like they've accomplished something and you don't have to spend your time trying to make everything level. Every body wins!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Age
I've been listening to audiobooks lately, and in the one I'm listening to now [Death of a Gentle Lady, by M.C. Beaton], something arresting caught my attention. It takes a bit to catch my attention - I tend to zone in and out when I'm listening and driving.
What caught my attention?
This phrase:
. . . two women, in their late forties . . .
Why did it catch my attention?
Because I am a woman in my early forties, and for a second, I thought, "Late forties? That's kind of old . . . wait . . . that's nearly how old I am . . . wait . . . how the hell did that happen?"
I am not a person who thinks her best years are behind her. Or who quaked at turning 40 [or even turning 30, for that matter]. But I AM a woman who tends to forget how old she is, and also to forget that not everyone thinks of age the same way. Which is a pity, because I worry for people who discount their later years - there will hopefully be a hell of a lot more of them than your early years. Get cracking!
[I am also not that person who wears age-inappropriate clothing. I do tend to wear age-inappropriate nail polish, but come one. We all have our issues.]
************
Another example of me not recognizing my age? Deciding what to be for Halloween. Check out my latest list at Secret Society of List Addicts!
What caught my attention?
This phrase:
. . . two women, in their late forties . . .
Why did it catch my attention?
Because I am a woman in my early forties, and for a second, I thought, "Late forties? That's kind of old . . . wait . . . that's nearly how old I am . . . wait . . . how the hell did that happen?"
I am not a person who thinks her best years are behind her. Or who quaked at turning 40 [or even turning 30, for that matter]. But I AM a woman who tends to forget how old she is, and also to forget that not everyone thinks of age the same way. Which is a pity, because I worry for people who discount their later years - there will hopefully be a hell of a lot more of them than your early years. Get cracking!
[I am also not that person who wears age-inappropriate clothing. I do tend to wear age-inappropriate nail polish, but come one. We all have our issues.]
************
Another example of me not recognizing my age? Deciding what to be for Halloween. Check out my latest list at Secret Society of List Addicts!
Monday, October 25, 2010
Marriage: Seriously. WTF?
I came to the conclusion the other day that being married is like fighting molasses. It envelopes you, and you start pushing and punching, but you end up stuck more firmly and wrapped up in more and more of it. It never lets you go. But it can be kind of sweet.
I never had a good handle on marriage, on what it could be. On what it should be. I knew what I didn't want - I'd seen enough bad marriages to make me an expert on that.
But what did I want? I mean, isn't the opposite of not wanting a bad marriage wanting no marriage at all?
It turns out, it's not. Wanting the opposite of a bad marriage could actually mean wanting a GOOD marriage. I know, right? Earth shattering.
But what's a good marriage?
I know that is an individual decision, an individual desire. It may help to clarify or discuss what that thing is, but sometimes those determinations are too abstract. Or too specific.
I mean, I could say that my good marriage would be to Jon Stewart [or Eminem], but where would that get me? Frustrated?
Or I could say that my good marriage is based on respect and love and admiration, but that sounds too much like what a generic greeting card would say.
Or I could say that my good marriage would be to someone who wants what is best for me, but that sounds like what your nutritionist would say.
So I don't know. I think it's all of those things and maybe none of those things [i.e., bye-bye Jon and Eminem]. But I also think part of it [for me] is wanting to be married. Wanting to be with someone. Sure, there are days, weeks, months, years, when that is not the case. But there has to be a desire to be with that person, to see something through.
Also, Jon Stewart won't return my calls.
I never had a good handle on marriage, on what it could be. On what it should be. I knew what I didn't want - I'd seen enough bad marriages to make me an expert on that.
But what did I want? I mean, isn't the opposite of not wanting a bad marriage wanting no marriage at all?
It turns out, it's not. Wanting the opposite of a bad marriage could actually mean wanting a GOOD marriage. I know, right? Earth shattering.
But what's a good marriage?
I know that is an individual decision, an individual desire. It may help to clarify or discuss what that thing is, but sometimes those determinations are too abstract. Or too specific.
I mean, I could say that my good marriage would be to Jon Stewart [or Eminem], but where would that get me? Frustrated?
Or I could say that my good marriage is based on respect and love and admiration, but that sounds too much like what a generic greeting card would say.
Or I could say that my good marriage would be to someone who wants what is best for me, but that sounds like what your nutritionist would say.
So I don't know. I think it's all of those things and maybe none of those things [i.e., bye-bye Jon and Eminem]. But I also think part of it [for me] is wanting to be married. Wanting to be with someone. Sure, there are days, weeks, months, years, when that is not the case. But there has to be a desire to be with that person, to see something through.
Also, Jon Stewart won't return my calls.
 |
| Bastard. |
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunday in Pictures
I find family portraits pretty boring, so I like to take photos of parts of the three of us. It's a nice way to remember a moment in our lives and not have to wear matching outfits or stand against a fake backdrop. [PS - Don't you love my ring? $10 at the mall!! Please ignore the scaly skin and the weird way my knuckles look. I'm not sure what I was doing there.]
Saturday, October 23, 2010
The Panic Diaries, Entry 7,543,590 OR Jesus, Make Her Stop Talking About This Already
So I got my DTaP and flu shots yesterday. Obviously, I did not die. My arms are a bit sore, and I think I have a fever and I'm a bit tired and achy, but other than that, I'm o.k.
Yesterday? Not so o.k.
The terror of getting these fucking shots was immense.
I hemmed and I hawed, and I told everyone about my fear, hoping that would lessen it.
It did, sort of.
I joked with my co-workers about my inability to deal with getting shots. I talked to my friend about how afraid I was. I tweeted like a crazy person about how I was maybe almost certainly probably maybe not going to get my shots.
And then I went. Waited in the doctor's office. The nice, friendly nurse was perfectly pleasant, telling me to pull up my sleeves [OH! I FORGOT! I wore the Fear Sweater yesterday! I got a lot of compliments on it. I may or may not have brought another top to have in the car in case I had to change in someone's driveway again.] and the DTaP would go here and the flu shot would go there and she was coming at me with the alcohol swab and I blurted out that I was very, very anxious and panicky.
And she said, "Wow, you don't seem panicked at all." And I guess I don't. Normally I keep that shit locked down and leave as quickly as possible and break down later.
So I took heart from the nice nurse and let her poke me.
And I was o.k.
For a few minutes.
Then the anxiety started. Was my face getting numb? Was numbness a side effect of one of these shots or maybe both of these shots or these shots in combination with my Aveda hair products? Was the numbness panic [duh, of course] or was it some sort of horrible reaction where my face and throat would become numb and then I'd suffocate and die because I couldn't breath?
And then I tried to get hold of the husband, who was not answering any phones or texts. And that triggered PANIC FEST 2010 - The Shottening.
I called my sister and asked her to pick me up. Again.
I tried to calmly wait, but the adrenaline was pumping and I was having none of it.
So I asked another nurse if she could help me because I was panicking and could she please tell me if facial numbness was panic or an allergic reaction [or, now that I think of it, necrotizing facitiis {I'd include a link, but it's too horrible for words}].
This other nurse was also super nice. She sat with me and talked to me, even though it was closing time, and walked me down to the lobby and outside to wait with me for my sister.
Who said the funniest thing in the history of ever when I got in the car [after I stopped crying]: "You need to get over this, because we are either going to end up as Grey Gardens or Whatever Happened to Baby Jane."
I don't which would be worse.
Yesterday? Not so o.k.
The terror of getting these fucking shots was immense.
I hemmed and I hawed, and I told everyone about my fear, hoping that would lessen it.
It did, sort of.
I joked with my co-workers about my inability to deal with getting shots. I talked to my friend about how afraid I was. I tweeted like a crazy person about how I was maybe almost certainly probably maybe not going to get my shots.
And then I went. Waited in the doctor's office. The nice, friendly nurse was perfectly pleasant, telling me to pull up my sleeves [OH! I FORGOT! I wore the Fear Sweater yesterday! I got a lot of compliments on it. I may or may not have brought another top to have in the car in case I had to change in someone's driveway again.] and the DTaP would go here and the flu shot would go there and she was coming at me with the alcohol swab and I blurted out that I was very, very anxious and panicky.
And she said, "Wow, you don't seem panicked at all." And I guess I don't. Normally I keep that shit locked down and leave as quickly as possible and break down later.
So I took heart from the nice nurse and let her poke me.
And I was o.k.
For a few minutes.
Then the anxiety started. Was my face getting numb? Was numbness a side effect of one of these shots or maybe both of these shots or these shots in combination with my Aveda hair products? Was the numbness panic [duh, of course] or was it some sort of horrible reaction where my face and throat would become numb and then I'd suffocate and die because I couldn't breath?
And then I tried to get hold of the husband, who was not answering any phones or texts. And that triggered PANIC FEST 2010 - The Shottening.
I called my sister and asked her to pick me up. Again.
I tried to calmly wait, but the adrenaline was pumping and I was having none of it.
So I asked another nurse if she could help me because I was panicking and could she please tell me if facial numbness was panic or an allergic reaction [or, now that I think of it, necrotizing facitiis {I'd include a link, but it's too horrible for words}].
This other nurse was also super nice. She sat with me and talked to me, even though it was closing time, and walked me down to the lobby and outside to wait with me for my sister.
Who said the funniest thing in the history of ever when I got in the car [after I stopped crying]: "You need to get over this, because we are either going to end up as Grey Gardens or Whatever Happened to Baby Jane."
Friday, October 22, 2010
Friday Flip Offs - How Sweet It Is
I missed doing this last week, and I've got so much agita built up, I needed to do it again. So, with little ado, here are things I want to Flip Off this week:
Flip Off Getting Shots: I hate the fact that I'm supposed to go get a DTap booster and flu shot today. Even though I've already put this off and rescheduled and I know I need to do it, the odds are still pretty good that I'm going to chicken out and bail. Again. Which will result in another session of berating myself and worrying about getting sick again.
Flip Off Harsh Bathroom Soap: At work, or in any public restroom [and yes, I use them A LOT, because I have to pee ALL THE TIME] they use soap that will strip not only dirt and germs from my skin, but also SKIN from my skin, so I'm left with scaly red patches as well as tiny little cuts where the skin has gotten so dry. There is not enough lotion in the world to deal with this.
And finally:
Flip Off to Volunteer Work: Sure, it makes you feel good to help others. But it also makes you crazy when you feel like you are the ONLY ONE who is doing anything to help others. Volunteer work, a way to hate your fellow man.
Flip Off Getting Shots: I hate the fact that I'm supposed to go get a DTap booster and flu shot today. Even though I've already put this off and rescheduled and I know I need to do it, the odds are still pretty good that I'm going to chicken out and bail. Again. Which will result in another session of berating myself and worrying about getting sick again.
Flip Off Harsh Bathroom Soap: At work, or in any public restroom [and yes, I use them A LOT, because I have to pee ALL THE TIME] they use soap that will strip not only dirt and germs from my skin, but also SKIN from my skin, so I'm left with scaly red patches as well as tiny little cuts where the skin has gotten so dry. There is not enough lotion in the world to deal with this.
And finally:
Flip Off to Volunteer Work: Sure, it makes you feel good to help others. But it also makes you crazy when you feel like you are the ONLY ONE who is doing anything to help others. Volunteer work, a way to hate your fellow man.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Rewind Review #5 - Huh, that's not at all what I expected
You know how you are just now watching/reading/hearing that thing that everyone was talking about 1/2/10/15/20 years ago? Or maybe you're revisiting something you LOVED and want desperately to talk about it to someone who cares? Well, this is my forum to discuss that thing. Join in, make suggestions, read my genius thoughts about that old school thing. [Not to be confused with Old School, the movie, or being old school. Although either of those may come up in the future.]
*****************
The husband and I like to watch movies at home. It gives us something we can do together, and we don't have to deal with humanity by venturing into the theater [which, by the way, LIES when it tells you what time the movie starts, and also plays commercials and yadda yadda yadda].
Anyway, because our tastes are so different, we try and take turns selecting movies until one or the other of us selects a few stinkers in a row, at which point that person is banned from picking movies for a while.
Recently, the husband picked District 9.
Neither of us had thought much about it. I figured it was an alien invasion movie, like a Will Smith movies, and I think the husband thought it was, as well.
It wasn't.
I mean, it was, in that aliens landed on earth. But it wasn't, in that those aliens were unable to keep their shit together and destroy us, which is what I always expect aliens will do. My certainty comes from authorities as diverse as Signs, Orson Welles and Kang and Kodos.
Anyway, the aliens land. They get stuck here, in scenic South Africa, where they are penned up in slums.
Some twenty years later, this one guy who works for an evil corporation get assigned to head the rooting out of the aliens. Because the people of South Africa have had ENOUGH. They don't want these aliens in their back yard. NIMBY at its finest.
The human guy [I forget his name. Let's call him Fred.], Fred, is a stooge of the Evil Corporation. He is also the tactical lead of a group of mercenaries [or maybe the military?] and is doing an interview, so we get to see him in his glory, tearing into the alien slums and rousting them out, in his ineffectual, deskjobber manner. In doing so, he gets infected and starts turning INTO an alien.
Which makes the Evil Corporation want to keep him around and make more of him! Human-alien hybrids! Perfect for every army you ever need!
Fred wants no part of this, and escapes. He is then spun as a rogue alien/human hybrid who is masterminding . . . something. Or maybe he's just evil and has to be stopped. I'm not sure. I had to go help the girl straighten her hair in the bathroom for a bit, and missed some things.
Anyway.
There's lots of blood and gore and dismemberment. There's a touching father and son alien duo. Fred spends a lot of time trying to contact his wife, who happens to be the boss's daughter. Fred also spends a lot of time fighting, and it's a tough call deciding who comes off worse in the fight against Fred - the Nigerians or the evil corporation. The aliens get shit on by everyone.
It's an o.k. alien movie and a smart precis on segregation and racism. It's not something I'd watch again, but it was a meh way to pass some time.
[In case you're wondering, the husband went on to pick two stinkers {Avatar & The Book of Eli} so he's been banned from picking any more movies for a while.]
*****************
The husband and I like to watch movies at home. It gives us something we can do together, and we don't have to deal with humanity by venturing into the theater [which, by the way, LIES when it tells you what time the movie starts, and also plays commercials and yadda yadda yadda].
Anyway, because our tastes are so different, we try and take turns selecting movies until one or the other of us selects a few stinkers in a row, at which point that person is banned from picking movies for a while.
Recently, the husband picked District 9.
Neither of us had thought much about it. I figured it was an alien invasion movie, like a Will Smith movies, and I think the husband thought it was, as well.
It wasn't.
I mean, it was, in that aliens landed on earth. But it wasn't, in that those aliens were unable to keep their shit together and destroy us, which is what I always expect aliens will do. My certainty comes from authorities as diverse as Signs, Orson Welles and Kang and Kodos.
 |
| Fucking Mel Gibson. He ruins EVERYTHING. |
 |
| They ain't gonna play Sun City. |
The human guy [I forget his name. Let's call him Fred.], Fred, is a stooge of the Evil Corporation. He is also the tactical lead of a group of mercenaries [or maybe the military?] and is doing an interview, so we get to see him in his glory, tearing into the alien slums and rousting them out, in his ineffectual, deskjobber manner. In doing so, he gets infected and starts turning INTO an alien.
Which makes the Evil Corporation want to keep him around and make more of him! Human-alien hybrids! Perfect for every army you ever need!
Fred wants no part of this, and escapes. He is then spun as a rogue alien/human hybrid who is masterminding . . . something. Or maybe he's just evil and has to be stopped. I'm not sure. I had to go help the girl straighten her hair in the bathroom for a bit, and missed some things.
Anyway.
There's lots of blood and gore and dismemberment. There's a touching father and son alien duo. Fred spends a lot of time trying to contact his wife, who happens to be the boss's daughter. Fred also spends a lot of time fighting, and it's a tough call deciding who comes off worse in the fight against Fred - the Nigerians or the evil corporation. The aliens get shit on by everyone.
It's an o.k. alien movie and a smart precis on segregation and racism. It's not something I'd watch again, but it was a meh way to pass some time.
[In case you're wondering, the husband went on to pick two stinkers {Avatar & The Book of Eli} so he's been banned from picking any more movies for a while.]
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I Can't Do That
I have weird manifestations of OCD - as opposed to the normal manifestations. In fact, I wasn't aware that the things I did would even be considered OCD. I thought OCD was strictly about washing your hands and making sure that your door is locked and putting your shoes on right foot first ALWAYS because OMG otherwise you'd feel weird all day.
Not that I'd know anything about that.
Anyway, I was talking to my therapist about stuff I do, like having to plan out, exactly, how I'd get from point A to point B, or my issues with food, nothing about eating disorders, more about having to have things be absolutely perfect or clean. Like, I would never, in a million years, take a can that had a ripped label, much less one that was dented. Selecting produce can be exhausting. I didn't think it was odd; I simply thought I was fastidious.
And if I did run across something that I had purchase that was not right? There is no way in hell I would eat it. Like, say, I'd get a wonky potato chip, with maybe a hole in the middle of it. I'd immediately think, "Huh, that's weird. It looks like a worm ate through it. Or maybe an evil poisoner meticulously drilled it with a poisoned awl. Hahaha. Not that those things would ever happen. But anyway, I'm not eating that." And then I'd set it aside and leave it on a napkin until I threw it away. Like so:
Yeah. So. Wonky chip leads to wonky thoughts and I have to surreptitiously take a photo of my food so I can tell the internet what a nutjob I am.
Awesome.
Not that I'd know anything about that.
Anyway, I was talking to my therapist about stuff I do, like having to plan out, exactly, how I'd get from point A to point B, or my issues with food, nothing about eating disorders, more about having to have things be absolutely perfect or clean. Like, I would never, in a million years, take a can that had a ripped label, much less one that was dented. Selecting produce can be exhausting. I didn't think it was odd; I simply thought I was fastidious.
And if I did run across something that I had purchase that was not right? There is no way in hell I would eat it. Like, say, I'd get a wonky potato chip, with maybe a hole in the middle of it. I'd immediately think, "Huh, that's weird. It looks like a worm ate through it. Or maybe an evil poisoner meticulously drilled it with a poisoned awl. Hahaha. Not that those things would ever happen. But anyway, I'm not eating that." And then I'd set it aside and leave it on a napkin until I threw it away. Like so:
 |
| Evil Potato Chip. |
Awesome.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Update
What have I been up to, you might have asked. Well, even if you DIDN'T ask, here's the scoop:
That's what's going on with me. What about you?
- Failing at taking a photo every day. I know I said I'd do it, and I did do it. For the first day. And then I forgot on the second day. And then I berated myself when I remembered on the third day and made myself take a lame picture of my cat just so I could check that off my list. And now I'm trying very, very hard to take photos as often as possible and not just let my camera or camera phone sit unused. It's a process, people.
- Slowly trying to keep up with commenting on the comments. I'm trying to make sure I comment on everyone's comments, but I'm sure I've missed a few. I do really appreciate all your comments, I really do. I love the fact that people read what I'm writing and they think about it and then are moved to react. It means a lot. Thank you.
- Saying really nasty things about an ugly child. There's no good way to spin that, so I won't. But, as a mitigating circumstance, said child's mother is a bitch.
- Missing reading blogs. I swear, this work and commute are kicking my ass, and are cutting in to my free time. I miss reading and commenting on my favorite blogs. I really do. I did, however, finally realize that I can check my google reader on my phone [please, I'm technologically inept] so I've been reading a bit during breaks, but have not been quick enough to also comment. Rest assured, I miss you all.
- Secret Society of List Addicts. Great news! I'm the official new Tuesday poster at Secret Society of List Addicts. I was very flattered to have been asked, and jumped at the chance to spout off in list form. Check out today's post - it's all about lying to yourself. Or me lying to myself. For all I know, you may be completely honest with yourself all the time. Kudos to you.
- Getting a jury summons. Oh, yeah. I'm excited, but it's downtown and I'm still panicky about driving, so that removes a lot of pleasure. Plus, I got the summons on the same day that I had to take my car into the shop because the steering wheel's power steering was failing. AWESOME!
- Got aggravated by excessive exclamation points. I'm the PTA president and I wanted to send out an email reminding people to come to the meeting, and the new secretary took my nice, precisely worded email and added! Exclamation points! at the end of sentences! So I look like a chirpy idiot.
- Searching for the perfect lipstick. I'm still looking. I thought I had a good one in Clinique's Almost Lipstick in Black Honey, but of course, it didn't work out. Despite how dark it looks, it came out kind of pink on my lips. Back to the drawing board.
 |
| Soooo close. |
Monday, October 18, 2010
Family
We spent the weekend out of town with my in-laws. It was fine, for the most part. I had a horrific headache on the way out to see them [the husband said he noticed that I have a horrific headache anytime we go to see them, but I think it's just coincidence and nothing should be read into this], and I hate being in the car for a long time and I really hate having to use rest stop bathrooms [which I always have to do, because I have to pee ALL THE TIME], but we got there without incident and it was going pretty well. Also, I've developed a nice banter and have appointed myself official photographer, so I can easily escape by saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, I want to make sure I get a photo of So and So before they leave. I'll be back in a few minutes." Nice, right?
The husband, the girl and I were sitting at a table when one of our nieces joined us. She's 8, and has stayed with us for visits before. I like when she and her sister come, because ***SMUG PARENTING ALERT*** I feel like I can give them opportunities and experiences they don't necessarily get with their own parents [Stuff like going to the library instead of going to see the latest Twilight movie. Yeah. At age 7. What the fuck?].
So we were chatting with Niece and she proceeded to tell us about what was going on in her life and she said she had a boyfriend, and also a boy who liked her. And then she said that either boy was o.k., but she was not allowed to go out with a black boy. Or a brown boy.
And then my heart dropped and my head exploded and I couldn't think of a coherent thing to say beyond, "I don't think that's the right way to think about things," to which she replied, "My mom said I cannot date a black or brown boy," and I said, "That's not right," and then shut up because I was going to start saying some really, really nasty shit about this kid's parents.
It makes me sick that she's been told this at all - and why now? She's 8, for fuck's sake. In addition to the horrifying racism, what kind of person discusses dating options with an 8 year old? I cannot get beyond how a person can tell another human being not to be with someone because of the color of their skin. I know it goes on, but I had hoped that it was dying out, that my parents' generation would be the last that espoused this type of garbage.
Which made me want to punch the parents. and, sadly, the girl, even though I know she's just parroting what she's been told.
You know what? Not a smug parent, a better parent, hands down. And I sit here, trying to figure out how to change this child's mind. What can I do when I see her so seldom? How do I counteract this type of hate?
I really don't know.
The husband, the girl and I were sitting at a table when one of our nieces joined us. She's 8, and has stayed with us for visits before. I like when she and her sister come, because ***SMUG PARENTING ALERT*** I feel like I can give them opportunities and experiences they don't necessarily get with their own parents [Stuff like going to the library instead of going to see the latest Twilight movie. Yeah. At age 7. What the fuck?].
So we were chatting with Niece and she proceeded to tell us about what was going on in her life and she said she had a boyfriend, and also a boy who liked her. And then she said that either boy was o.k., but she was not allowed to go out with a black boy. Or a brown boy.
And then my heart dropped and my head exploded and I couldn't think of a coherent thing to say beyond, "I don't think that's the right way to think about things," to which she replied, "My mom said I cannot date a black or brown boy," and I said, "That's not right," and then shut up because I was going to start saying some really, really nasty shit about this kid's parents.
It makes me sick that she's been told this at all - and why now? She's 8, for fuck's sake. In addition to the horrifying racism, what kind of person discusses dating options with an 8 year old? I cannot get beyond how a person can tell another human being not to be with someone because of the color of their skin. I know it goes on, but I had hoped that it was dying out, that my parents' generation would be the last that espoused this type of garbage.
Which made me want to punch the parents. and, sadly, the girl, even though I know she's just parroting what she's been told.
You know what? Not a smug parent, a better parent, hands down. And I sit here, trying to figure out how to change this child's mind. What can I do when I see her so seldom? How do I counteract this type of hate?
I really don't know.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday in Pictures
That's the girl at a little lake near our house. We went to check it out and take some photos. I love how wee she looks here.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Awkward
I had to run to the doctor's office the other day [I was out of the Zyrtec substitute she wants me to take, and I'm still not comfortable enough to take any random generic brand, because the crazy, it is full on, so I have to go and get it at that pharmacy. Plus, it's only $3 for the month's supply. SWEET!] and as I was walking in, I saw a woman with SIX small children corralling them out of the building. They looked like her, so I'm assuming they were all hers.
And I can't help it. I get crazy judgy when I see women with that many kids. I want to shout, "YOUR UTERUS IS NOT A CLOWN CAR!"
I'm sure it's a reaction to having only the one kid, but it's also because I feel like people who have that many kids and don't live on a farm are just doing it to be smug.
Anyway, this reminded me of this woman I used to know when the girl was very little. One of her ever expanding brood [there were 3 at the time I knew her, and she was pregnant with the fourth] was friends with the girl, and sometimes she'd go over there.
And we were chatting one day, about child safety, and I said, "Well, it's not like you have a gun in the house." And she said, "Well, actually, we do."
Huh. O.k.
We didn't remain friends, because what the fuck was I going to do with that?
And I can't help it. I get crazy judgy when I see women with that many kids. I want to shout, "YOUR UTERUS IS NOT A CLOWN CAR!"
I'm sure it's a reaction to having only the one kid, but it's also because I feel like people who have that many kids and don't live on a farm are just doing it to be smug.
Anyway, this reminded me of this woman I used to know when the girl was very little. One of her ever expanding brood [there were 3 at the time I knew her, and she was pregnant with the fourth] was friends with the girl, and sometimes she'd go over there.
And we were chatting one day, about child safety, and I said, "Well, it's not like you have a gun in the house." And she said, "Well, actually, we do."
Huh. O.k.
We didn't remain friends, because what the fuck was I going to do with that?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Stubborn.
This weekend I realized that we/I had made a lot of plans with people. LOTS of plans. Plus, I ended up having to work on Saturday.
Still, I thought I would be able to take care of all the usual stuff [grocery runs, prepping food, laundry, ironing, dusting, cleaning, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms] that usually gets taken care of during the week, plus the stuff I needed to take care of for this party I was corralled into helping throw.
And I would not ask for help, even though I worked 50 hours, because . . . because, god damn it, I would not. I am capable and a hard worker and . . . evidently an idiot who piles too much on my plate.
I hate to ask for help. And when the husband offers it? I hate to accept it. Even when other people offer it.
Because I make a plan and I stick with it and I CERTAINLY do not need anyone's help, thank you very much.
Until I get so fucking crazy that I start yelling about the smallest little thing. Like WHERE THE FUCK IS THE TAPE??? HUH??? I JUST BOUGHT TAPE WHERE IS IT WHY IS THERE NEVER ANY GOD DAMN TAPE???
I tell you this story to illustrate the level of stubborness and hardheadedness that I war with on a daily basis. A war between my super focused, must follow my plan demented self and my hmmm...why don't you think that over self. Do not tell me I can't do something. Do not tell me I should do something a different way, or not at all or with your help.
If I am in a mood when you tell me this? It will not end well for either of us. Or either of my parts of myself. Am I making sense? Is that heat vapor steaming up my vision?
Accepting help is a hard thing to do. But it makes life so much easier.
Still, I thought I would be able to take care of all the usual stuff [grocery runs, prepping food, laundry, ironing, dusting, cleaning, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms] that usually gets taken care of during the week, plus the stuff I needed to take care of for this party I was corralled into helping throw.
And I would not ask for help, even though I worked 50 hours, because . . . because, god damn it, I would not. I am capable and a hard worker and . . . evidently an idiot who piles too much on my plate.
I hate to ask for help. And when the husband offers it? I hate to accept it. Even when other people offer it.
Because I make a plan and I stick with it and I CERTAINLY do not need anyone's help, thank you very much.
Until I get so fucking crazy that I start yelling about the smallest little thing. Like WHERE THE FUCK IS THE TAPE??? HUH??? I JUST BOUGHT TAPE WHERE IS IT WHY IS THERE NEVER ANY GOD DAMN TAPE???
I tell you this story to illustrate the level of stubborness and hardheadedness that I war with on a daily basis. A war between my super focused, must follow my plan demented self and my hmmm...why don't you think that over self. Do not tell me I can't do something. Do not tell me I should do something a different way, or not at all or with your help.
If I am in a mood when you tell me this? It will not end well for either of us. Or either of my parts of myself. Am I making sense? Is that heat vapor steaming up my vision?
Accepting help is a hard thing to do. But it makes life so much easier.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Info
I found this in my drafts from several years ago. I thought it would be interesting to post.
Or maybe I just thought it would be a good thing to post instead of nothing.
I don't remember what this was about, or why it went around. I guess to see how well-off you were? Or how shitty your life was? I don't know.
I do see that it looks as if I had a pretty good childhood. And except for the almost suffocating over-protection, I guess I did.
Huh.
Who knew?
***************
The list is based on an exercise developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University. The exercise developers ask that if you participate in this blog game, you acknowledge their copyright.
Bold the ones that are true for you.
Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college
Mother finished college
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers (huh? hardly a uniform bunch)
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
Were read children's books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
There was original art in your house when you were a child
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
You had your own room as a child
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
Or maybe I just thought it would be a good thing to post instead of nothing.
I don't remember what this was about, or why it went around. I guess to see how well-off you were? Or how shitty your life was? I don't know.
I do see that it looks as if I had a pretty good childhood. And except for the almost suffocating over-protection, I guess I did.
Huh.
Who knew?
***************
The list is based on an exercise developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University. The exercise developers ask that if you participate in this blog game, you acknowledge their copyright.
Bold the ones that are true for you.
Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college
Mother finished college
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers (huh? hardly a uniform bunch)
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
Were read children's books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
There was original art in your house when you were a child
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
You had your own room as a child
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The Shot Heard Round My Brain
Have you ever gotten a flu shot? I have not.
It's not one of those things I think to get. But because I was so sick over the summer and my lungs were so compromised, my doctor wants me to get a flu shot AND a DTaP [Diptheria/Tetanus/Pertussis] booster. Evidently Whooping Cough has made a comeback and she doesn't want me to get it.
Of course, I put off getting the shot on the day that she told me, because god knows, I wasn't going to just randomly get a shot without a LOT of pre-shot anxiety and stress about it. I mean, I can't just DO something like that. I have to worry about it for a while first.
And of course, I rescheduled the appointment once already.
But I swear, this next appointment? I'm going.
I don't want to get sick again.
Plus, I scheduled it for the weekend the girl is having a party, so if I do get sick? That means I get to lay around and the husband has to deal with the kids. Smart, right?
Yep.
It's not one of those things I think to get. But because I was so sick over the summer and my lungs were so compromised, my doctor wants me to get a flu shot AND a DTaP [Diptheria/Tetanus/Pertussis] booster. Evidently Whooping Cough has made a comeback and she doesn't want me to get it.
Of course, I put off getting the shot on the day that she told me, because god knows, I wasn't going to just randomly get a shot without a LOT of pre-shot anxiety and stress about it. I mean, I can't just DO something like that. I have to worry about it for a while first.
And of course, I rescheduled the appointment once already.
But I swear, this next appointment? I'm going.
I don't want to get sick again.
Plus, I scheduled it for the weekend the girl is having a party, so if I do get sick? That means I get to lay around and the husband has to deal with the kids. Smart, right?
Yep.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Drive, baby, drive
I hate to drive.
I'm sure I've mentioned that before. I hate it. I hate running errands. I'm panicked about driving on the freeway, to the extent that I don't do it. I get frustrated at red lights.
I hate it.
And so, of course, this job I have is on the other side of the metro area, with no good way to get there. And, thanks to the recovery act, all the road that were not fixed for I can't even remember how many years are finally being taken care of. All at the same fucking time. So there's random construction popping up while I've been sleeping or have been at work.
I try and make calls when I'm driving, to have something to take my mind off of the constant stop and go, but I don't like talking when I'm driving because I get so cranky.
I picked up some books on tape. I got David Sedaris's Holidays on Ice, The Vagina Monologues and Sue Grafton's U is for U-something or other, I forget what. I could do a review of the books, but instead I'll do a review of what it's like listening to them.
I'm not a good audiobook listener.
My mind wanders and I miss a ton of stuff. Also, I tend not to remember the people's names and can't figure out who is doing what and why. This isn't so bad with a book of essays, like Sedaris's. But for the mystery book? I have no idea what's going on or why. But, I prefer to listen to it, because I feel like I can zone in when I want and even though I've missed big swathes of reading, I'll still get the gist at some point.
Also, I can only handle so much of Sedaris at one time.
[BAD NPR LISTENER!]
It's not his voice, which is on the border of annoying.
It's more that I can only handle so much hahahahorribledowner stuff at one time. And when I'm driving is not the time.
I got some good recs from Twitter, which I'll try and pick up this week. And if you have any good ideas for something frothy and funny that doesn't require me to listen all the time, let me know.
Or maybe I'll dictate my novel while I drive. That's a good use of time, and I feel like I'd be accomplishing something MAJOR.
Or maybe I won't. It doesn't matter, I guess. Just trying to pass the time.
I'm sure I've mentioned that before. I hate it. I hate running errands. I'm panicked about driving on the freeway, to the extent that I don't do it. I get frustrated at red lights.
I hate it.
And so, of course, this job I have is on the other side of the metro area, with no good way to get there. And, thanks to the recovery act, all the road that were not fixed for I can't even remember how many years are finally being taken care of. All at the same fucking time. So there's random construction popping up while I've been sleeping or have been at work.
I try and make calls when I'm driving, to have something to take my mind off of the constant stop and go, but I don't like talking when I'm driving because I get so cranky.
I picked up some books on tape. I got David Sedaris's Holidays on Ice, The Vagina Monologues and Sue Grafton's U is for U-something or other, I forget what. I could do a review of the books, but instead I'll do a review of what it's like listening to them.
I'm not a good audiobook listener.
My mind wanders and I miss a ton of stuff. Also, I tend not to remember the people's names and can't figure out who is doing what and why. This isn't so bad with a book of essays, like Sedaris's. But for the mystery book? I have no idea what's going on or why. But, I prefer to listen to it, because I feel like I can zone in when I want and even though I've missed big swathes of reading, I'll still get the gist at some point.
Also, I can only handle so much of Sedaris at one time.
[BAD NPR LISTENER!]
It's not his voice, which is on the border of annoying.
It's more that I can only handle so much hahahahorribledowner stuff at one time. And when I'm driving is not the time.
I got some good recs from Twitter, which I'll try and pick up this week. And if you have any good ideas for something frothy and funny that doesn't require me to listen all the time, let me know.
Or maybe I'll dictate my novel while I drive. That's a good use of time, and I feel like I'd be accomplishing something MAJOR.
Or maybe I won't. It doesn't matter, I guess. Just trying to pass the time.
Monday, October 11, 2010
And the Winner is . . .
Seriously, this was HARD!! So hard to choose.
But, we decided. Finally. After a lot of "Oh, my god, THIS one is gorgeous" and "But look at THAT one!"
We decided, and here they are:
The finalist:
This incredible shot. I love that it's black and white, but still so evocative. And the steps are incredible.
And the winner is:
I just cannot get over how gorgeous this photo is. It's sublime. What an incredible image. Don't you LOVE IT?
********
Thanks so much to everyone who entered. You all are rock stars. I can't stress how difficult it is to choose a winner. Your work is fantastic.
The next contest will be at the end of November. The theme is: LOVE! You can interpret that however you'd like. I can't WAIT to see your entries!
But, we decided. Finally. After a lot of "Oh, my god, THIS one is gorgeous" and "But look at THAT one!"
We decided, and here they are:
The finalist:
This incredible shot. I love that it's black and white, but still so evocative. And the steps are incredible.
by teejayphotography
And the winner is:
by Jenndola
I just cannot get over how gorgeous this photo is. It's sublime. What an incredible image. Don't you LOVE IT?
********
Thanks so much to everyone who entered. You all are rock stars. I can't stress how difficult it is to choose a winner. Your work is fantastic.
The next contest will be at the end of November. The theme is: LOVE! You can interpret that however you'd like. I can't WAIT to see your entries!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Raw Photos Finalists
You all. Seriously. You are amazing photographers who make it nearly impossible to decide who to choose. They're all too wonderful.
But, we buckled down and Andygirl and I selected the following finalists. GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GORGEOUS.
Killing me with the beauty. All of you.
I love the shades of green and the use of the car!
by MadeOfWords
Doesn't this look like a postcard?
by megaball
Oh. My. God. THOSE CHEEKS!
by Taming Insanity
The water over this leaf looks like you could dip your finger in it.
by Jenndola
I'm mesmerized by this.
by teejayphotography
The contrast between these colors is phenomenal.
by LovingMyLifeBlog
I feel like I need a hammock and a nap. Mmmmm . . . .
by Papoe
I need to take a walk here. And I am generally NOT a fan of nature.
by steffsux:
Aren't they incredible?? These finalists are a credit to a person's ability to capture a moment.
Winner announced TOMORROW!!!
But, we buckled down and Andygirl and I selected the following finalists. GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GORGEOUS.
Killing me with the beauty. All of you.
I love the shades of green and the use of the car!
by MadeOfWords
Doesn't this look like a postcard?
by megaball
by Taming Insanity
by Jenndola
by teejayphotography
by LovingMyLifeBlog
by Papoe
by steffsux:
Aren't they incredible?? These finalists are a credit to a person's ability to capture a moment.
Winner announced TOMORROW!!!
Sunday in Pictures
The girl and I like to go walking in the fog. This despite the fact that I've seen both The Fog and The Mist, as well as that Simpsons episode where the fog turns you inside out, and should know better.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Rewind Review #6 - I'm a little tired of shows I love getting cancelled
You know how you are just now watching/reading/hearing that thing that everyone was talking about 1/2/10/15/20 years ago? Or maybe you're revisiting something you LOVED and want desperately to talk about it to someone who cares? Well, this is my forum to discuss that thing. Join in, make suggestions, read my genius thoughts about that old school thing. [Not to be confused with Old School, the movie, or being old school. Although either of those may come up in the future.]
*****************
I go through spurts with t.v.
Sometimes I watch it a lot.
Sometimes I don't watch it at all.
I'm fickle, I know. But I think the main problem is that so many of the shows that I love get canceled. Abruptly, without warning, without any . . . what's that stupid-ass therapy word? Ah! Without any closure.
So here is a review of a show I loved that got canceled. Check it out on DVD and then join me in railing at the fates and stupid programming execs who think that reality t.v. is a winner. Fuck you, programmers.
Better off Ted.
This show is about Ted [duh] and his boss Veronica [a delightful Portia deRossi - I want to be her when I grow up] and his crush Linda [who is sublime in this] and Phil and Lem [the scientists].
To say that this is a workplace comedy does it a disservice. The show pushes every moral envelope you have, and you [o.k., I] suddenly find yourself [myself] rooting for the evil Veridian Dynamics. [link's video starts immediately]
The show crafts episodes that are biting and funny and delicious. Like the episode where the new automatic sensors couldn't read the African American workers. Yeah. That worked out great:
Ted is in charge of his production group, working on things like weaponizing a pumpkin. He is smooth and smart and actually has a moral compass. Also a little girl named Rose, who often acts as his conscience, but never in a cloying, cute-kid way. Plus, sometimes Veronica will try and mold her in her image:
Linda is in charge of product testing, and she's the soul of this soulless corporation. But she's not all sugar and spice. She gets her own back, by doing things like stealing creamer.
Ted works for Veronica, who only wants what's good for the company. Because that's good for her. She pulls no punches and bends the workforce to her needs.
Sometimes Veronica has to crack the whip with her subordinates.
Phil and Lem work on different projects - growing beef, curing baldness, new MREs. They are smart and know their limitations and are in awe of Ted. Because he is AWESOME.
They also accidentally drugged Linda one time,
which caused Linda to act in some strange, crazy ways, and resulted in a hilarious baby kidnapping.
My favorite part is the Veridian Dynamic commercials - this doesn't mean that the rest of the show is bad, just that the commercials are fucking genius.
Here's a link to five of them.
Seriously, watch this show if you have not. I can't stress enough how funny it is. If you loved Arrested Development, then watch this show. If you love to laugh, watch this show. It's genius.
And fuck you, ABC, for getting rid of this but keeping Wipeout.
Bastards.
*****************
I go through spurts with t.v.
Sometimes I watch it a lot.
Sometimes I don't watch it at all.
I'm fickle, I know. But I think the main problem is that so many of the shows that I love get canceled. Abruptly, without warning, without any . . . what's that stupid-ass therapy word? Ah! Without any closure.
So here is a review of a show I loved that got canceled. Check it out on DVD and then join me in railing at the fates and stupid programming execs who think that reality t.v. is a winner. Fuck you, programmers.
Better off Ted.
 |
| Oh, how I miss you all. |
To say that this is a workplace comedy does it a disservice. The show pushes every moral envelope you have, and you [o.k., I] suddenly find yourself [myself] rooting for the evil Veridian Dynamics. [link's video starts immediately]
The show crafts episodes that are biting and funny and delicious. Like the episode where the new automatic sensors couldn't read the African American workers. Yeah. That worked out great:
 |
| They finally fixed it. |
 |
| Why no, she's not evil. |
 |
| Or sometimes she accidentally inappropriately touches a co-worker. Yeah. That starts something. |
 |
| Veronica and Ted. |
 |
| Yeah. Linda should just listen. |
 |
| They know what's up. |
 |
| That's gotta hurt. |
 |
| Sometimes things don't go right. |
 |
| Yes, Veridian, you do make life. better. |
Seriously, watch this show if you have not. I can't stress enough how funny it is. If you loved Arrested Development, then watch this show. If you love to laugh, watch this show. It's genius.
And fuck you, ABC, for getting rid of this but keeping Wipeout.
Bastards.
Friday, October 8, 2010
The First Step for The David Cooke
Even though I'm not certain who The David Cooke actually is, I do know The Miss Becky, and she kicks ass. So much ass, in fact, that she's got her Pranksters [including moi] doing amazing stuff like fucking with Gwyneth K. Paltrow via a John C. Mayer-ing, and even MORE amazing stuff like working to kick ass in a charity sense by pulling a The David Cooke.
Being snarky comes easily to me. Sometimes too easily. What doesn't come easily is talking about things that are important to me - things like First Step.
What's First Step? Well, let me tell you about First Step. It's a program run in Southeastern Michigan working with survivors of domestic and sexual assault and their families.
First Step is largely staffed by volunteers. First Step also accepts donations from their Wish List, or you can donate whatever you can.
Survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault are in a precarious place, and they need advocates. First Step is dedicated to helping these survivors from the first moment, by offering emergency help lines and emergency housing to those who need it, as well as having a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner present when necessary.
First Step also does presentations in schools and churches, discussing an issue that so many of us don't like to think about, or would rather sweep under the rug.
If you'd like to volunteer or donate, please do so.
Being snarky comes easily to me. Sometimes too easily. What doesn't come easily is talking about things that are important to me - things like First Step.
 |
| These are pretty cool First Steps, aren't they? |
First Step is largely staffed by volunteers. First Step also accepts donations from their Wish List, or you can donate whatever you can.
Survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault are in a precarious place, and they need advocates. First Step is dedicated to helping these survivors from the first moment, by offering emergency help lines and emergency housing to those who need it, as well as having a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner present when necessary.
First Step also does presentations in schools and churches, discussing an issue that so many of us don't like to think about, or would rather sweep under the rug.
If you'd like to volunteer or donate, please do so.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
So, to sum up: Gainfully employed, but still a fucking loon
Yesterday morning I was getting ready for work and getting the girl ready for the bus. The husband had to be at work really early, so I was stumbling around trying to get stuff done alone. Not that he helps much of his own volition, but if I find myself in a frenzy, I can yell at him to help me out.
I was also really, really tired.
Partly because I've gotten up at ass o'clock lately but haven't gone to bed early enough to make up for it. Partly because of PMS, which makes me extra sleepy.
Now, when I don't get enough sleep, I tend to not do well. Cranky, migraines, and the crazy starts to catch hold nice and tight.
Which is what happened this morning.
I had planned out what I was going to wear. In honor of getting a new, albeit temporary, job, I bought myself a new sweater for work [it's business casual!!]:
Anyway, I bought this cute sweater [except mine is purple with a gray argyle pattern] and was going to wear it today with my gray pants.
And then, as I was putting it on, I thought, "Brand new sweater? You'll probably panic for no reason and not want to wear it."
Stupid ass.
I put it on and told myself not to panic and then grabbed another sweater and set off on my hour long trek to work.
I got about 1/2 way there before the panic really set in and I had to change my sweater IMMEDIATELY.
So I pulled into a cul de sac of two GIGANTIC MANSION TYPE HOMES:
Anyway, I'm pulled into this tiny cul de sac at about 7:40 in the morning, and I start pulling off my sweater and am sitting in my car, in my bra, in front of people's houses in the daylight, with traffic on the road behind me, trying to put my other sweater on.
Which I finally did.
And then spent the rest of the day berating myself for my crazy.
Also, because I am not only a nutcase, but also really competitive, I've been in a race [in my own mind] with how many hours I've worked compared to the people I'm working with. Like, I have to work at least as long as they do, if not longer, and if they are working longer than I am, I LOSE AT LIFE. Even though we're only allowed to work up to 40 hours, so it's not like we're getting paid to work more hours, but I feel as if I have to get to 40 hours FIRST.
God, I just can't stop.
**********
Also, it's the last day to enter the Raw Photos Contest: Autumn Where You Live. Are there people dressing in your driveway, shadowed in fall foliage? Take a photo! We'd love to see it!
I was also really, really tired.
Partly because I've gotten up at ass o'clock lately but haven't gone to bed early enough to make up for it. Partly because of PMS, which makes me extra sleepy.
Now, when I don't get enough sleep, I tend to not do well. Cranky, migraines, and the crazy starts to catch hold nice and tight.
Which is what happened this morning.
I had planned out what I was going to wear. In honor of getting a new, albeit temporary, job, I bought myself a new sweater for work [it's business casual!!]:
 |
| By the way, Izod's website is fucking retarded. Seriously. Like they don't want you to buy their stupid ass clothes. Idiots. |
And then, as I was putting it on, I thought, "Brand new sweater? You'll probably panic for no reason and not want to wear it."
Stupid ass.
I put it on and told myself not to panic and then grabbed another sweater and set off on my hour long trek to work.
I got about 1/2 way there before the panic really set in and I had to change my sweater IMMEDIATELY.
So I pulled into a cul de sac of two GIGANTIC MANSION TYPE HOMES:
 |
| They both looked like this. Well, maybe a tiny bit smaller. |
Which I finally did.
And then spent the rest of the day berating myself for my crazy.
Also, because I am not only a nutcase, but also really competitive, I've been in a race [in my own mind] with how many hours I've worked compared to the people I'm working with. Like, I have to work at least as long as they do, if not longer, and if they are working longer than I am, I LOSE AT LIFE. Even though we're only allowed to work up to 40 hours, so it's not like we're getting paid to work more hours, but I feel as if I have to get to 40 hours FIRST.
God, I just can't stop.
**********
Also, it's the last day to enter the Raw Photos Contest: Autumn Where You Live. Are there people dressing in your driveway, shadowed in fall foliage? Take a photo! We'd love to see it!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Crushes
I've talked, before, about having a kind of crush on this woman who goes to the rec center. I want to be her friend, even though I've never spoken to her or asked her to do anything, I'm still hurt by her rejection [wow. That's sad.].
Anyway, there's this woman I've known - actually known, actually spoken to, we've exchanged numbers and email addresses, I'm not stalking her, like the cool lady at the gym - for years. And for all those years, I've wanted to be friends with her. More than just the casual hi or quick exchange of information when we happen upon each other.
I want us to make dates. And keep them.
I want us to get together and do stuff.
And it never seems to work out. Which really bums me out, because I like her. I think she's awesome. And Ithink know think she likes me. Know she likes me.
It's kind of sad and funny how you never outgrow crushes. It's as if you are perpetually 13. I don't really care for it.
I hope I eventually outgrow it.
*********
Only TWO DAYS LEFT to enter the Raw Photos Contest - Autumn Where You Live!
Anyway, there's this woman I've known - actually known, actually spoken to, we've exchanged numbers and email addresses, I'm not stalking her, like the cool lady at the gym - for years. And for all those years, I've wanted to be friends with her. More than just the casual hi or quick exchange of information when we happen upon each other.
I want us to make dates. And keep them.
I want us to get together and do stuff.
And it never seems to work out. Which really bums me out, because I like her. I think she's awesome. And I
It's kind of sad and funny how you never outgrow crushes. It's as if you are perpetually 13. I don't really care for it.
I hope I eventually outgrow it.
*********
Only TWO DAYS LEFT to enter the Raw Photos Contest - Autumn Where You Live!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Downtown
My sister and I were in Detroit the other day. I went to school downtown. I used to work downtown. I used to hang out downtown [back when I was fun and did stuff and went out at 10pm instead of seeing 10pm and going, "GOD, I'm TIRED" and dozing on people's couches or in the booth at the restaurant or on the dance floor at the bar. Ha! I don't actually sleep on the dance floor. But that's only because I haven't been on a dance floor in about three years. God. I'm sad. Let's go dancing.]
Anyway, we were downtown and we talked about how different it used to be and how there are some parts, some pockets that are getting better. But it's a patchwork, really. One block will be nice, and then next will be full of burned out houses or just an empty field being reclaimed by nature.
Michigan Avenue runs out from Detroit. We took it back home, noticing the big empty field that was Tiger Stadium, the blown out hull that was the train station, but also the slow revitalizing of this area.
Anyway, we were going down Michigan Avenue, remarking on the new faces of some of the buildings, the new businesses that were being built up.
And I noticed this newly built, really big building with pretty brick and arched entryways for parking and hay bales and pumpkins decorating for the fall. I pointed it out to my sister, "Wow! Look at that nice building. Things are improving."
And my sister said, "That's a strip club."
Oh.
Still. A really nicely built strip club. And did I mention decorated for the fall?
*************
What's fall look like where you're at? Is it all decorated strip clubs, or actual nature? Show us what you've got - Raw Photos Contest: Autumn Where You Live.
Anyway, we were downtown and we talked about how different it used to be and how there are some parts, some pockets that are getting better. But it's a patchwork, really. One block will be nice, and then next will be full of burned out houses or just an empty field being reclaimed by nature.
Michigan Avenue runs out from Detroit. We took it back home, noticing the big empty field that was Tiger Stadium, the blown out hull that was the train station, but also the slow revitalizing of this area.
 |
| What a gorgeous building, right? This should be rehabbed. |
And I noticed this newly built, really big building with pretty brick and arched entryways for parking and hay bales and pumpkins decorating for the fall. I pointed it out to my sister, "Wow! Look at that nice building. Things are improving."
And my sister said, "That's a strip club."
Oh.
Still. A really nicely built strip club. And did I mention decorated for the fall?
*************
What's fall look like where you're at? Is it all decorated strip clubs, or actual nature? Show us what you've got - Raw Photos Contest: Autumn Where You Live.
Monday, October 4, 2010
We have a winner! And I'm still nuts.
First things first. Duh. Because I would not be putting first things second.
The most important thing is that, TA DA!!! We have a winner for my inaugural blog giveaway.
Thank you to all who entered. I appreciate all your lovely comments about how you love Glee. It is awesome, isn't it?
Anyway, the winner is: Hutch!
Hutch said...
That's so cool! Glee is one of my most favorite shows ever, although I miss me some Jesse St. James!
Congratulations, Hutch!
Please email me at thesueniverse AT gmail.com with your contact information so you can get your book!
Thanks for playing along, everyone!
***********
In other news, Fall has fallen and I'm so happy. I love Fall. It's a gorgeous time of year, a time for sweaters and tights and boots and enjoying the warmth from the sun and the cool breeze on your face as you pretend to watch football but are actually taking sips from your flask. Or maybe that's just me.
I particularly like the activities of Fall - collecting leaves and pressing them between sheets of waxed paper, eating donuts, picking pumpkins and apples and pony rides and Halloween decorations and the smell of the furnace kicking in for the first time.
Ugh. Wait. I hate that smell. I always have all the windows open, which I'm sure makes the furnace work harder, but still. I pick a not super cold day to run the furnace for the first time so that smell can dissipate.
I have a thing with smells.
But back to Fall. I love Fall because it has two names [ah, Autumn, you are awesome as well] and it's got so many gorgeous colors and I don't get hot doing yardwork or walking around outside. I hate being hot. So I can partake in the outdoors. Which is great. Also because most of the bugs are gone and dead.
I've also decided to make a Fall Resolution. I'm going to take a photo every. single. day. That's something that I've wanted to do, but somehow have been too lazy to do. I'm not sure what the hell is wrong with me [blah blah anxiety blah depression blah craziness blah really? do we have to get into this now?] but it's hard for me to actually do something I want to do when I don't feel that I'm doing something productive to balance it. And it's worse when I'm super careful about money - although how taking photos with a camera I already own is cost prohibitive is beyond me.
But whatever. I'm doing it.
So. A picture every day.
Doable, right?
The most important thing is that, TA DA!!! We have a winner for my inaugural blog giveaway.
Thank you to all who entered. I appreciate all your lovely comments about how you love Glee. It is awesome, isn't it?
Anyway, the winner is: Hutch!
Hutch said...That's so cool! Glee is one of my most favorite shows ever, although I miss me some Jesse St. James!
Congratulations, Hutch!
Please email me at thesueniverse AT gmail.com with your contact information so you can get your book!
Thanks for playing along, everyone!
***********
In other news, Fall has fallen and I'm so happy. I love Fall. It's a gorgeous time of year, a time for sweaters and tights and boots and enjoying the warmth from the sun and the cool breeze on your face as you pretend to watch football but are actually taking sips from your flask. Or maybe that's just me.
I particularly like the activities of Fall - collecting leaves and pressing them between sheets of waxed paper, eating donuts, picking pumpkins and apples and pony rides and Halloween decorations and the smell of the furnace kicking in for the first time.
Ugh. Wait. I hate that smell. I always have all the windows open, which I'm sure makes the furnace work harder, but still. I pick a not super cold day to run the furnace for the first time so that smell can dissipate.
I have a thing with smells.
But back to Fall. I love Fall because it has two names [ah, Autumn, you are awesome as well] and it's got so many gorgeous colors and I don't get hot doing yardwork or walking around outside. I hate being hot. So I can partake in the outdoors. Which is great. Also because most of the bugs are gone and dead.
I've also decided to make a Fall Resolution. I'm going to take a photo every. single. day. That's something that I've wanted to do, but somehow have been too lazy to do. I'm not sure what the hell is wrong with me [blah blah anxiety blah depression blah craziness blah really? do we have to get into this now?] but it's hard for me to actually do something I want to do when I don't feel that I'm doing something productive to balance it. And it's worse when I'm super careful about money - although how taking photos with a camera I already own is cost prohibitive is beyond me.
But whatever. I'm doing it.
So. A picture every day.
Doable, right?
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Sunday in Pictures
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Stuff
I had some ironing to do the other day. When I iron, I set myself up in front of the tv and watch something - it makes the time pass and I don't notice the foot high pile that I have to get through. You'd think I'd have learned by now to do it a few pieces at a time every few days. You'd be mistaken.
Anyway.
For this episode of the Bataan Death March of Ironing, I watched Hoarders.
It's not a show I regularly watch. I watched an episode with the husband once, and we were both fascinated and repelled. But, I have other shows to watch, and it didn't grip me the way, say, 16 & Pregnant did for a day or two [where I watched episode after episode because honest to god, girls, WHAT THE FUCK?].
Anyway, I was watching Hoarders and then got this overwhelming need to TIDY UP and clean and do those things that are piling up all around - hem those pants, sew the hole in that sweater, do the dishes.
I did all those things, and made dinner, and watched ANOTHER episode, because how could you not?
It was . . . weird. Because I know that there are things that I need to take care of [the pile of books on the cabinet in the laundry room that are covered in dust, the cedar closet that was just cleaned out but is now filled to the rafters, the broken window in my bedroom from . . . 4 or 5 years ago?*] and then, of course, I wonder is it laziness or incipient hoarding? How do their lives get that way?
And then I think about some of my relatives [not naming names] and their piles and piles of stuff and the seeming inability to get and stay on top of stuff. And is this genetic?
It seems easy enough to fix this, right? Just grab a couple of garbage bags and START. But I know, from watching this show and talking to people, that they always have a valid reason for the 85 boxes of Jiffy Corn Bread mix and the receipts from 15 years ago.
Just like I always have a valid reason for not fixing the window or tackling that seemingly insurmountable pile of books.
Is this how it starts? Do I need to really home in on my love for clean lines and open spaces and get rid of everything?
Speaking of, do you remember that episode of Ab Fab, where Eddie's friends Max and Bettina visit with their baby, and Eddie was running around yelling, "CLEAN LINES AND OPEN SPACES, DARLING!"
I tend to say that a lot when describing what I want my house to look like. It's not quite there, obviously, as I noted in my shameful disclosure. I need to do more winnowing and tackle those overwhelming projects. And also resign myself to the fact that with the husband, the girl and two cats, there are going to be things. Everywhere.
Sweetie darling.
* I feel I need to make clear that my house is CLEAN. There are just some areas that are . . . not perfect.
**********
And if you don't feel as if you have enough stuff in your house, enter my contest to win a copy of Filled with Glee! You won't be sorry. Winner announced on Monday!!
Anyway.
For this episode of the Bataan Death March of Ironing, I watched Hoarders.
 |
| This is so unreal. |
Anyway, I was watching Hoarders and then got this overwhelming need to TIDY UP and clean and do those things that are piling up all around - hem those pants, sew the hole in that sweater, do the dishes.
 |
| This is what I looked like. Except my apron was floral patterned. |
It was . . . weird. Because I know that there are things that I need to take care of [the pile of books on the cabinet in the laundry room that are covered in dust, the cedar closet that was just cleaned out but is now filled to the rafters, the broken window in my bedroom from . . . 4 or 5 years ago?*] and then, of course, I wonder is it laziness or incipient hoarding? How do their lives get that way?
And then I think about some of my relatives [not naming names] and their piles and piles of stuff and the seeming inability to get and stay on top of stuff. And is this genetic?
It seems easy enough to fix this, right? Just grab a couple of garbage bags and START. But I know, from watching this show and talking to people, that they always have a valid reason for the 85 boxes of Jiffy Corn Bread mix and the receipts from 15 years ago.
Just like I always have a valid reason for not fixing the window or tackling that seemingly insurmountable pile of books.
Is this how it starts? Do I need to really home in on my love for clean lines and open spaces and get rid of everything?
Speaking of, do you remember that episode of Ab Fab, where Eddie's friends Max and Bettina visit with their baby, and Eddie was running around yelling, "CLEAN LINES AND OPEN SPACES, DARLING!"
 |
| Truly, one of the wonders of television. If you haven't seen it, you MUST. |
Sweetie darling.
* I feel I need to make clear that my house is CLEAN. There are just some areas that are . . . not perfect.
**********
And if you don't feel as if you have enough stuff in your house, enter my contest to win a copy of Filled with Glee! You won't be sorry. Winner announced on Monday!!
Friday, October 1, 2010
Friday Flip Offs - How Sweet It Is
I had no idea that such a delightful concept existed, a place to channel my weekly rage. It's like therapy, but scads cheaper, and I feel like I'm benefiting the community, too.
So, here are my inaugural Friday Flip Offs:
Flip Off to this shitastic economy. It's been a good long while of bad and worse news, and nothing is getting better. Where's the WPA when you need it? Come on, people. Let's get this country working again. [And by country, I mean me. Immediately.]
Fuck you, I mean FLIP OFF whoever the lame rapper is who calls himself the Teflon Don. There was only one Teflon Don, and that was this man:
Also, Flip Off my inability to keep my hands out of the cookie jar. Even though I'm not supposed to eat sugar OR flour. The subsequent headache and stomach pains and batting about my pancreas like a pinata never act as a deterrent to the DELICIOUS OH MY GOD SO GOOD cookies in the jar.
And finally, Flip Off to weird intestinal disturbances. Let's just leave it at that.
There. I feel much better.
**********
Still don't feel like you got all the agita out? Try working in another medium! The Raw Photos Contest starts today! Check Flickr for all the rules. You'll feel better if you enter. Trust me.
**********
Want another way to feel better? Enter my contest to win a copy of Filled with Glee! You won't be sorry.
So, here are my inaugural Friday Flip Offs:
Flip Off to this shitastic economy. It's been a good long while of bad and worse news, and nothing is getting better. Where's the WPA when you need it? Come on, people. Let's get this country working again. [And by country, I mean me. Immediately.]
 |
| Yes. Yes it does. And it also pays the bills. |
Fuck you, I mean FLIP OFF whoever the lame rapper is who calls himself the Teflon Don. There was only one Teflon Don, and that was this man:
 |
| So smooth, so cool. I miss you, Mr. Gotti. |
 |
| Evil tempters. Stop your siren songs! |
There. I feel much better.
**********
Still don't feel like you got all the agita out? Try working in another medium! The Raw Photos Contest starts today! Check Flickr for all the rules. You'll feel better if you enter. Trust me.
**********
Want another way to feel better? Enter my contest to win a copy of Filled with Glee! You won't be sorry.
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