The church I pass going to and from work has a marquee of sorts in front, where they advertise the next Sunday's sermon topic. I had a sense that the church was pretty liberal in its preachings based on previous sermon topics, but this week's sermon, "The Joy of Sex," pretty much nailed the coffin shut on that topic.
Garrrr, matey.
________________
One day I will learn how to trim extraneous edges off photos. I promise.
I'm not sure how I got out of reading any of Moliere's work in school, but I did. I wish I'd been more exposed. This afternoon I went to a high school drama department's adaptation of The Imaginary Invalid featuring a friend's daughter in a starring role. She was amazing, and except for one flubbed scene (not hers) which resulted in the other actor saving the day, it was... Well, it was pretty much what you'd expect of a high school drama department performing a Moliere play.
During the performance, I was taken back to my high school days of stage crewing for 42nd Street, Guys & Dolls, Dracula, Brigadoon and Our Town.* Being on stage crew was way more fun to me than being on the stage itself. We used to stand behind the curtain and mock the actors, we had all the dances memorized and performed them (quite poorly, I might add) behind the scenes, we had massage circles on both sides of the stage during a particular scene of each show, and we got to wear all black. We had a time.
But the best part each time was the cast party the last night of the show. About 20 or 30 kids would hole up in some unfortunate parents' house, where we would spend the next 12 hours or so drinking Coke, playing pool and cards, flirting (as high school kids are wont to do) and basically just bonding with each other. There was never alcohol or drugs - or if there was I didn't know about it - it was just good clean fun, for one night every six months or so, the pretentious drama students interacting with the stage crew dorks and band geeks in total unadulterated harmony.**
I kind of wish I'd stuck with it throughout college, but I didn't. Maybe I lost my tolerance for showtunes. Maybe I didn't want to taint the great experiences I had in high school. Maybe I was just lazy.
Yeah, that's probably it.
Anyway - support your local high school theater performances! You're pretty much all they have left these days...
________________
* Really now, is there a high school drama department that hasn't done Our Town?
** I will go to hell for all these stereotypes, I'm sure. Not saying they are always true, but trust me, at my high school they were. 100% of the time. Well... except for that hot drummer I had a crush on for 3 years.
I chaperoned a tour of a local university today as part of my unpaid job (which got me out of my paid job - HOORAY!). I was struck by the fact that, despite the unfamiliarity of cell phones going off in class, teachers lecturing using powerpoint, and students sporting laptops and fancy white out for note taking ...
Everyone still packed up 10 minutes before the end of the lecture to head over to the dining hall, where they would shovel in as much food as they possibly could and then burn off every single calorie in their 9-mile trek to the next class.
The more things change... the more they stay the same.
I swear, if this particular email subject hadn't been from my brother, I would've thought it was more spam spam spam spam.
I got a very amusing report from him today about his encounter with former-Miami-Hurricane-current-Washington-Redskin-player Clinton last Thursday, where he got some things signed and informed Mr. Portis that he would score 2 touchdowns that weekend.
He did ("and then some" - quotes added because, well, I don't watch football so I would have no idea).
Fuck the Magic 8 ball. I'm asking my brother any yes/no questions from here on out. And I am soooooo archiving this email for future humorous reference.
This has Darwin Awards written alllllllll over it.
This, courtesy of the yeti, is currently making me laugh. Especially this, about The Great Gatsby, because in a sense I am a FOP*:
"It grieves me deeply that we Americans should take as our classic a book that is no more than a lengthy description of the doings of fops."
__________________
* Though not in the sense that this comment intends. At least, not usually.
Read this. You'll understand.
OK, really now, I promise this is the last I will say about the matter on any web site, anywhere.
I agree with some other things that John Rockefeller said, but not really this one. Mainly because I am one of the most competitive people I know. It usually comes out when I am up against guys, or doing something that is typically a "guy" thing.
Like tonight, I went bowling with some folks, and I beat all the guys - by actively trying to beat all the guys - even though most of us hadn't bowled for many years. Same is true when I play poker and guys are at the table - I just want to win.
I blame this on two things: my brother, who used to take pictures of the final scoresheet when we played Scrabble and he would win with a score triple that of my own... Pictures, for God's sake... And an ex-long-term-boyfriend, who couldn't stand to lose, and unfortunately transferred that behavior to me.
But I don't really think competition is a sin. For many reasons, so few things cause me to challenge myself these days. If I have to rely on friendly competition - and it's always friendly, at least I try to make sure that it's always friendly - to keep me on my poker or bowling or interviewing or exercising toes, then so be it.
I saw the sweetest cat at the mobile adoption center outside the pet food store. She was about 3 years old, pure white, docile and loving, and she had a stuffed elephant that had to go with her should she be adopted.
And then I saw the cutest damned stuffed cow at the drugstore and HAD TO HAVE IT. I'm not a stuffed animal freak, or a cow freak, but put the two together and I'm in trouble. I don't have a secret stash though - my only other stuffed cow to date, Clarence, sat on the dashboard during every road trip I took between 1994 and 1997 and is a little worse for the wear because of it, but still damned cute.
Anyway, I wondered if Luna might like a stuffed animal like the cat up for adoption today. She likes things she can knead.
I don't think she likes Clarence Jr. too much. Shame... he's so soft and squishy.
I'm not sure why it took so long for me to discover Dead Like Me... and I'm REALLY not sure why it got cancelled. I'm sure I'm not the first to say that it's so nice to see Jasmine Guy in a bitchy role.
Yep, that's the Golden Gate Bridge. It's a rare, clear day that I can see the Golden Gate Bridge from my office. Usually it's just a lot of fog and maybe the Bay Bridge.
I don't know why people want to live in San Francisco. Look out your window, and you see Oakland. Live in Oakland, look out your window and you see this.
Five things I like about my job, in no particular order:
For the past few months, off and on, I have been trying to figure out what the hell I could have done to my home version of Firefox that resulted in me not being able to see images on some web sites (like this one - I couldn't see the dots or images) but not all web sites. I uninstalled and reinstalled, that didn't help. I checked all the settings 867 times. I knew it was just me because I could see everything fine on Firefox at work.
Today I was determined to fix this thing so I went through each setting again, checking or unchecking boxes one by one until I found the culprit (oh, so I don't want to load images from the originating web site only).
Of course, now it makes perfect sense and I feel like a bit of a tool. At least I can also see all the navigation and images in Netflix, and I can remove the IE icon from my toolbar - both of which make me very happy.
THIS is why I'm not a programmer. You always want to know why, well - take it in.
Me and You and Everyone We Know will probably not like this movie very much. Unless you liked this movie a lot, in which case you will probably like it quite a bit.
And speaking of Tom Solondz, I didn't care for the film itself but I liked what he did with Palindromes - switching out the main character with multiple different actresses throughout the film made it seem like this situation could apply to anyone, anywhere. It also upped the "depressing" factor by about 12 because of that, though.
If I'd only gotten to episode five in the series, I would've been SO VERY hooked before the movie was even a concept in Joss's geeky brain. I got the emotion, the characters, the everything he was trying to convey. And yeah, now I'm SO VERY hooked.
________________
And um, can you believe this is a Wikipedia entry? I'm not sure if I should be appalled, or amused... or indifferent...
I am so very tired of this funk I've been in for the past two weeks. I don't even know the cause of it - usual suspects of Paid Job and Unpaid Job and Lack Of Overall Life are no more prevalent than usual. Although it has been an odd few weeks at Paid Job. And Unpaid Job, now that I think about it. Not unbearable, just odd.
Lately all I've wanted to do is come home, watch TV, hang out with Her Majesty, eat crappy food, not go to the gym and feel guilty about not going to the gym. And it's getting old.
So I beg of you. If I must have the funk, make my funk the P. Funk. It's got a much better beat than the funk I'm in now.
It's far less depressing to get an email saying "we've decided to fill this position with an internal candidate" than it is to get an email saying "you suck."
Oh dear GOD. If I ever push a 5 to 9 pound tiny squirming person out of my body you had better believe there will be mass amounts of drugs and screaming, and probably an iPod playing at full blast, involved.
At least Tom doesn't have to worry about Tony calling him. (Check out comment #3. My sentiments exactly.)
Where is that damn t-shirt, anyway??
Leave it to Moby to spoil a good thing. At least he redeemed himself with this other post.
What's that? Well, of course I loved Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. What a silly question.
A while back, a friend sent me a link to this site. I've been thinking about it off and on since hoping to have an intelligent response... Haven't gotten very far with that, other than to say that the "eye for an eye" theory doesn't resound with me, I wish guns didn't exist, I don't see the fun in hunting animals just so you can stuff them and display them proudly in your den, I'm so very tired of our country being reactive to problems instead of proactive... but I don't think it's realistic to make guns illegal in our current (figurative and literal) state.
In my efforts to come up with an intelligent response, I ran across a site where stats come alive! I don't know about you, but being 8th on this list doesn't make me too happy. Nor does being 9th on this list. Other fun stats:
just hoping no one knows... that I've been going through the motions ... walking through the part ... nothing seems to penetrate my heart ...."
Today I learned (is this getting old yet?) that there is a local theater group performing Once More With Feeling. I'm really not sure how I feel about that. But I have inquired about tickets.
I also discovered that it's pretty easy to give constructive feedback when you are emotionally detached from a situation. And finally, it's next to impossible to have a thoughtful reaction to something when you are presented with the fact that two entities are moving in polar opposite directions and both directions directly impact you.
Less vague, more Buffy: "Where’s there’s life, there’s hope. Everyday’s a gift. Wishes can come true. Whistle while you work. So hard. All day. To be like other girls. To fit in in this glittering world. Don’t give me songs... Give me something to sing about. I need something to sing about."
Not that she reads this blog, or that she knows about this blog, or that she NEEDS to know about this blog... but today is my mom's 65th birthday. Happy birthday, Mom.
I talked with her today. As usual the conversation went all over the place*, but she did spend some time telling me about her navy blue shoe shopping success and how she wants to get a similar pair of black ones to wear when she's dead. Apparently, they're quite comfy.
(Mom has always been rather aware of, and rather blatant about, her mortality. Ever since I can remember she's reminded us that she wants to be cremated and her ashes sprinkled over her parents' grave sites, despite the fact that my father wants her to be buried next to him and it's illegal to sprinkle ashes... Hey - maybe that could be my felony!)
I called upon those hours upon hours of watching Six Feet Under and reminded her that you can't see shoes in a coffin. She stated (again) that she wants to be cremated. I said, "then what the hell do you need 'dying' shoes for?" And she laughed. And I laughed.
This type of conversation with one's own parental unit probably sounds awful. Morbid. Disrespectful. But really, it's just honest. Recently I have been blatantly aware of how little time I have left with my parents. I want to know about all their medical situations. I want to advise them on how to make the best of their situation with their crappy doctor. I want to honor their requests around ceremonies and services and burials, and have therefore had to ask a lot of weird questions, and use a lot of weird humor while doing so. And them sending a copy of their wills was just eerie.
I have seen my friends go through parental losses and have tried to be a better daughter as a result. I have realized how much I care about them and how much they have sacrificed for me. I have also been painfully aware of the fact that I'm 3000 miles away and don't talk to them nearly enough.
But not enough to move BACK THERE. They are more than welcome to move out here, but I am not going BACK THERE.
Dammit.
I'm not.
________________
* She's not on the verge of Alzheimers or anything... she's just old. And retired. And has a lot to say about it. And a lot of free time with which to do so.
Today I learned several things:
Arrested Development is back. Scott Baio is now a character. If they bring Joanie Cunningham in as a guest love interest I might have to protest, but for now... Happy happy joy joy.
Yeah, it's that kind of post.
I've been doing this thing lately where I reflect upon what I learned during the day. So, for example, yesterday I learned that weddings can be fun.
Today I learned (saw it firsthand, in fact) that there really are people who shoot snot out of their noses instead of using tissues. This particular guy was in a friend's car at the time, and nicely opened the car door before shooting his snot rocket, but missed the ground and hit the car door instead. So he wiped it with his hand and wiped his hand on his jeans. It seemed to defeat the whole purpose of the activity.
... I'm starting to rethink this whole "learn something new every day" concept.
Surely I am not the only one amongst us Joss fans (well, that wasn't with me tonight) who has seen Serenity. Surely I'm not.
Oh. My. God.
I haven't been this into a movie since the first installment of Lord of the Rings. Not that it remotely reached that caliber or anything, but man, was I into it. It started out kind of slow, then picked up and didn't slow down. Not once. It had its holes* and flaws** but overall just exemplified the vision of someone*** who's watched The Empire Strikes Back, the Matrix and Cowboy Bebop one too many times... but not in a bad way... and then finally gets ample funding to have a really good time making a really good movie.
This is all in my humble opinion. Of course. Oh, and Nathan Fillion? HOT. Have I mentioned that lately?
________________
* The most pointed, to me, being that if River is really psychic she should've been able to see all the bad stuff (not just the Reaver sitches) before it happened and prevent it. I'm hoping that the DVD series, which I am just delving into, explains the limitations around her psychic abilities.
** Is Mal's wardrobe any suggestion of how the boys will be dressing in 500 years? Yeesh. And um, Inara, where did all your clothing changes come from? Did you really bring them with you when you fled? Or were those the "sundries" you left behind on the ship?
*** I really have to wonder. Is the strong female character so common across his work a direct result of his mom dying when he was younger? I'm sure there are web sites and geek conferences and water cooler conversations devoted to this topic.
Latest favorite spam subject: "cattle, will it work out?"
I don't know about you, but I think that's a perfectly reasonable question.
Saw: one of the best thrillers I have seen in a long time. Kind of a mix of Silence of the Lambs plus Scream plus... um... Vulgar. I don't know - I made all that up - but it held my attention and caught me off guard at the end. Attentive viewers will get it right away.
And movies I wish I hadn't bothered with, because I only made it through about 30 minutes before I gave up:
Over the past few days I have really begun to question the value I am bringing to my job. Jobs. Paid and unpaid.
If I left, would I be missed? Would they replace me, or would they restructure the work I was doing to better fit into the overall strategy (as well as the line-towing mentality) and hire accordingly? Would they remember the questions I raised and see them as valid issues to address going forward?
These are all rhetorical questions. I think I partly know the answers though. And I think I partly agree with the answers... which really bugs me... but it's a direct result of having a bloody forehead from all the headbanging.
So for now I'll fantasize re-enacting the scene from that commercial where the guy walks into a meeting and says "Sorry I'm late - had a job interview. NAILED IT!"
And I'll keep raising the questions.
