What's cooler than being cool?

I'd have to say an all-guy Go-Go's punk rock cover band.

BUT what's even cooler than that? It would have to be an all-girl Kinks punk rock cover band.

Check them out. I know the drummer for the Minks, so last night I got be all like "yeah whatever I'm with the BAND."

________________
I'd written something last night about this, and 924 Gilman Street, and how weird that place was, but just weird for us adults, and that it was a good concept that we should support, conceptually... And how they clearly hadn't heard Have Another Drink... But that post disappeared. It was a good post too. Damn.

Belated Friday five.

I know these five things are true:

• I will never, ever again eat at a Chipotle. Even for convenience's sake. Any restaurant that puts instructions for how to eat their food on their napkins is a NO GO in my book.
• I like Nine Inch Nails' remake of Dead Souls much better than Joy Division's original.
• I did not know until today that Joy Division did this song originally.
• If this morning was any indication, the 26-mile run will not be half as difficult as dealing with a bunch of chatty Cathys at 8am every weekend.
• If this afternoon was any indication, Luna is going to need to learn how to actually TALK so that I don't get SEVERELY PISSED at her for waking me from my nap (by sitting on the bed meowing meowing meowing) just because it's her dinnertime. If she could just say "hey I'm hungry" it would make things much more amicable between the two of us.
  

February funnies and some civic obligation stuff. And other local news.

From the Book that Will Change My Life... Yesterday was the day of compliments, where I was supposed to flatter someone and see if it got me anywhere. Examples included "You're not the boss for nothing!", "This is the best memo I've ever read," and "That toupee really suits you!" I am not sure I gave anyone compliments but I know I recently complained about being complimented. Not the same thing.

And then today was "Be Gay For A Day" day, which I TOTALLY didn't take advantage of... Damn.

I should leave this book at work to remind myself to keep up with the daily schedule. Tomorrow shouldn't be a problem because it's "Discretely Give The Finger To People All Day Today" day. As it is, I do that on a regular basis. Surely I can fit some more in tomorrow.

And in other news... From my America: The Calendar 2/1 entry - What Type of Government Best Suits You? Category: Democracy.

• Your typical day - counting your money and deciding which fast food to eat.
• Your pet peeves - voting.
• Your favorite kinds of war - a glorious battle for liberty, preferably fought by proxy army.

And in other news... Speaking of voting. The Oakland Mayoral campaign is in full force. Don't forget to vote! If you want to meet the candidates, there's a local event coming up that I will be sharing with fellow Oaktowners. Please attend!!

And in other local news... I heard a rumor today that Merritt Bakery burned down. Uncomfirmed. But if confirmed, how truly sad. The food is overpriced and not that great, but their cakes are truly awesome. And it's a local monument.

And speaking of local monuments... No!!!! I wrote to request an update and haven't heard anything. If we ALL write he will be guilt-induced into writing back or giving an update. WRITE HIM!!

Do you know how to get your home phone number off someone's fax machine?

If so - do tell. Google was useless on this. And it's DRIVING ME CRAZY... I feel like Elaine.

The race is on and it looks like kneeaches.

Today I ran 3.2 miles (well, ran/walked in a 4 to 1 minute ratio) for the first time in a looooooong time, in prep for the marathon training kickoff this Saturday. I have to complete 3 miles, at my own pace, after which they will tell me my run/walk ratio and match me up with a group of random crazy people who are also running a marathon for the first time.

Stock-savvy folks would be wise to invest in aspercreme, Ryka footwear and Burt's Bees Pedicure Kits. I plan to corner the market on those items in the next six months.

(Did I use that phrase correctly?)

Maybe it's Furious Rabies (Minus Mortal Fear Of Water) disease.

Today I had a very irrational reaction to being repeatedly thanked for DOING MY JOB. It made me mad! You ask me to do something, I do it, you get what you need, I get paid, everybody's happy. End of story.

Please save the gushing accolades for my next "employee of the month" award. Capiche?

________________
Furious rabies = in which you become crazed, violent and of course, mortally afraid of water.

The Alien Hand Syndrome defense.

The birthday presents just keep a'comin'. Today I got lunch and flowers from some friends, plus brownies from another friend (not THOSE kind of brownies, sadly, but they were good), and two books:

1,000 Places to See Before You Die, which I have been coveting but have not yet bought for myself, and which I will - of course - use in conjunction with The Hypochondriac's Pocket Guide to Horrible Diseases You Probably Already Have.*

After all, how else am I going to see all these places, if I don't have a million diagnoses to call in sick with? "I don't care WHAT you've heard - I'm really not on my way to the Winter Alpine Balloon Festival. The HONEST TO GOD reason I can't come to work is because I have toxic epidermal necrolysis. Do you want to see that? I DON'T THINK SO. Sheesh."

________________
* The funniest part (to me, anyway) is that I coincidentally got these two books on the same day from two different friends who don't know each other. I couldn't plan a better punchline than that.

The more of Curb Your Enthusiasm I watch...

... the more I fear that I am the female version of Larry David. Hey - he's a fellow college alumni, if nothing else.

Alfredo sauce does not a soup make.

I mean, seriously. Who the hell would eat an alfredo sauce soup?* How many amongst us have done what I did - picked it up because they thought it was alfredo sauce and dammit, you ran a lot today and for that reason plus numerous others including that your thinking and vision was impaired, comfort food was required - and after making the pasta and fake chicken to go into the sauce you realize it is actually alfredo sauce SOUP??

San Francisco Soup Company - WTF??

________________
* I must confess - any day other than today, I would probably be ALL OVER an alfredo sauce soup.

Either that - or they're of Irish descent.

It occurred to me at the gym tonight that at least one member of The Shins probably worked in an office at some point. Witness:

• "In our darkest hours we have all asked for some angel to come sprinkle his dust all around. But all our crying voices they can't turn it around and you've had some crazy conversations of your own."
• "But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I know there is this side of me that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just fly the whole mess into the sea... Of course I was raised to gather courage from those lofty tales so tried and true and if you're able I'd suggest it 'cause this modern thought can get the best of you."
• "I'll try hard not to give in. Battened down to fair the wind. Read my head, at least pretend. Allow myself no mock defense. Step into the night."
• "But you'll find those lingering voices are just your ego's attempt to make it all clean and nice and make a moron out of you. Crossing a bridge on weakening cables, huddled up in fear and hate because we know our fate and it's a lot to put us through. Most ideas turn to dust as there are few in which we all can trust. Haven't you noticed I've been shedding all of mine? So let's abandon that track and leave our fathers fighting in a sack 'cause we are way too wise-assed for that. We've taken on a climb and it's long enough to put the best of us on our backs. Walking up a slide and there are those we know who'd have us five miles off the track."

Yes, you can call me crazy. Go ahead.

Today I registered for the AIDS Marathon on July 30. Technically speaking I signed up for the full marathon. Mentally I am ready for a 13.x mile run in six months but SOOOOOO NOT READY for a 26.x mile run. But I know people who've done it, and obviously is much easier to train for a full and scale back to a half than vice-versa.

To date I have run 3 miles at a time and been okay. Three goes into 26 eight.point.seven times. That's a lot of running.

It depends completely on my arthritic-since-age-13 knees. My attitude and motivation are there for 26 or 13 or whatever I can physically do. Yeah, I want to stay in shape but I also want to raise money for a good cause. (Well, another good cause. You'll be getting multiple requests for money this year. Sorry, it's the nature of being a good samaritan.)

So although I am close to 100% certain I will regress and simply do the half-marathon, I'm leaving myself open to the possibility. How cool would it be to casually say, "yeah, I ran a marathon"?

And plus I got all this runner paraphernalia for my birthday from my friend who found out I was considering it. So might as well put my new watch, key-holder-that-attaches-to-shoe, and pedicure materials to good use at least for a while.

Figures that the day I got all psyched about mentally and physically prepping for this, the damn gym was closed. Perhaps I should just enjoy my last weekend of pain-free knees and not feel guilty about it...

And then so timely...

This song came on. How DO you documentary a life when real life's getting more like fiction each day?

I won't see the movie though. I won't. (OK maybe I'll RENT it. Haha.)

To going against the grain, going insane, going mad...

We are spirits in a material world.

I am not making any of the following up.

Monday I went out to the balcony to water my plants. When I opened the balcony sliding door, I noticed that the plastic patio chair I keep outside was right in front of the door. I have no recollection of moving this chair, and moving it there would've been stupid anyway because it was totally in the way. I scratched my head, moved it back to its original position, and watered the plants.

Tuesday morning I woke up to an open closet in my bedroom. I have sliding closet doors, and I purposely keep them closed because Luna likes to go in and climb up my skirts and dresses, eat shoelaces, and generally cause trouble. The open doors alarmed me a little, but in my morning sleepy fog I went about my business and assumed I'd forgotten to close the doors the night before. I closed the doors before I left for work. When I got home from work the closet doors were still closed and Luna was sitting on her perch, staring at the ceiling and meowing incessantly. This is not an unusual occurance. The closet doors were closed when I went to sleep.

Wednesday morning the doors were open and a white t-shirt was laid out on the chair by the closet. I SWEAR I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF DOING THAT. There was no reason for it anyway, because I'd ironed something the night before that had no business being worn with a white t-shirt.

At this point, in case you couldn't tell, I was getting a little freaked out. I start to talk to the ceiling, like "um, hello up there? I'm sorry if you suffered a life ceasing event. If there's anything I can do for you please let me know, but leave me a written note (in English because I'm a lame American who doesn't know old or new foreign languages) rather than an abstract 'sign,' OK? You can write it on the mirror in eyeliner or lipstick, I won't mind." And Luna continued to meow incessantly at the ceiling.

I KNOW I closed the closet doors Wednesday night. When I woke up this morning they were open, one all the way, the other about 4 inches open.

So the conversations with the ceiling continue - in fact they're quite extensive right now - while I figure out the least expensive way to determine if I'm sleepwalking. Or if I'm crazy. Or where my next abode will be.

All of this is such an exciting change from my regularly scheduled life, though... So until the tree outside my bedroom window attacks me during a thunderstorm, I'm going to ride it as long as I can...

________________
Mark my words. The closet doors are closed right now.

I'm already behind on my life book.

So it's not the book with all the answers, but it WILL CHANGE MY LIFE. It contains 365 daily instructions for hysterical living (complete with sections for personal daily notes)... the hysterical part I could really use right about now.*

Being that it's the 7th day since receiving the book, and I keep forgetting to follow it by the book (no pun intended), here's a recap of what I've missed so far:

• Day 2: The Love of Your Life - where I was to look at everyone I saw as though they might be the love of my life and act accordingly. Fortunately I chose to take that day off work, so there were minimal encounters with people.
• Day 4: World Coloring-In Day - where I was to color in all the countries of the world that I've been to, I definitely want to visit, I intend to go there before I die but if I don't make it no big deal, and I never plan to step foot on. How timely that I was just talking with a friend about Antarctica on Day 3. Although that's not a "country" represented here.
  
• Day 5: Mass Social Experiment Day - placing an "out of order" sign on any public item(s) I choose, including but not limited to cranes, toilets, escalators. "The aim is to achieve comprehensive social breakdown across the U.S." Notes would've included phrases like "ALL RIGHT!!!!", "F-YEAH!!", etc.
  

Stay tuned for more progress on my hysterically-lived life. Performed on time, this time. Tomorrow is Day 8: Addiction-Free Day - where I'm sure notes will include things such as "OMG AS IF," "gaaaaarrr" and "FTS I'm getting a cup of coffee. Followed by a martini. Topped off with a crack pipe."

________________
* Can you say "worst day EVER?" I know that you can.

This sooooo could've been spam.

From my friend, in response to my inquiry about one of her recent vacation packages:

Apparently, the company I used for S. Africa has gone
out of business. When I called the 800 number, it was
some sex hotline. Bummer...

Today's post bro*ght to yo* by the letter U.

For most of today, for reasons which I still do not *nderstand, I co*ld not type the letter * witho*t a pop-*p box appearing which prevented me from any f*rther typing. So I had to either think of words which did not contain the letter *, or type words with an * in place of the *, or j*st type words witho*t the letter *. Which wo*ld’ve looked a little something like this:

For most of today, for reasons which I still do not nderstand, I cold not type the letter without a pop-p box appearing which prevented me from any frther typing. So I had to either type words with an * in place of the , or just type words withot the letter .

I am now amazed at how many commonly used words contain the letter U. Makes replying to an IM with "sure" damn near impossible, for starters. And then the syndrome affected the letters E and N as well, and I was just about to call it a day and go home... And then it stopped.

Respect the U. And the E. And the N. And technology. Because sometimes it just makes no sense.

Kinda like life.

It's not even that we missed the last train and had to take a cab back home...

No, it's not even that. It's that we went through the BART gates, looked at the schedule, realized that OH SHIT we just missed the last East Bay train, immediately exited the BART gates, and got $4.65 deducted from our tickets. For 3 minutes of "transit." Fucking public transportation.

Anyway! The show was fun. I especially liked her take on the space program - something about it being "welfare for smart people." And her reaction to the discovery of water on Mars... "And?? Hey, look at this, when I turn on this faucet - water!! Did you really have to go to space for that revelation??" I'm misquoting but that was the gist.

Good times. (Except for the $4.65 bullshit BART charge... okay, the $40 cab ride across the bay was no picnic either. But it was better than waiting for the creepy trans-bay bus at 1am. And a good reminder of why cars are our friends.)

A woman never forgets her age once she decides what it is.

OK, I'm officially sixteen hours into the ripe old age of 31. So far, other than being inexplicably and unbelievably tired at 4pm... I'm dealing quite nicely.

Just call me Jacqueline.

It's always better on holiday.
So much better on holiday.
That's why we only work when
We need the money.

(Uber-appropriate that this song came on as I sit here struggling with the joy that is cover letters.)

Cutting the cord: part one.

What a week. Well, what a latter half of a week. On Wednesday I had a meeting with my unpaid supervisor to discuss transitioning out of my unpaid job, which went better than I expected - and today I got good news that things are moving way faster than I could've imagined. (Hmm... I wonder if I should be concerned with how fast things are moving, actually... "Get her out of there as soon as you can!!")

Thursday I got lots of really cool stuff from my friends at my birthday lunch. And I also got bittersweet news about a project lots of us have been working on forever. "Bitter" because we've been working on it forever, but "sweet" because I realized there was no reason to go to work on Friday. After all, I had no idea what the hell I would be doing all day other than sitting there wondering what the hell I should be doing.

Today (on my unexpected day off!) I started talking one-on-one with peers at my unpaid job about leaving. Everyone was very understanding but it was actually kind of emotional - which, I guess, is not really surprising considering how much time I spend with those folks and how much respect I have for them.

Afterward, in light of that, I tried to imagine my last day at work. And I got kinda sad. But then I went back to revising my resume and the "sweet" feeling came back... Stay tuned for Part Two.

Who wrote the Book of Life anyway?

I was talking to someone today about how, back in elementary school, the "practice tests" provided answer keys in the back of the book. Remember that? And how cool it was?

How I wish that were true today. I really need some answers.

It's (past) 5 o'clock somewhere.

This is the best thing about my day today:



Sad, but true.

File under: the next time I complain about my life...

... remind me that last night I finally got around to watching Murderball. And remind me that, when all is said and done, right now I have nothing to complain about.

On second thought....

... any movie that I am still thinking about several hours after seeing it, is damn good in my mind. If I'm still thinking about it tomorrow then yes, it's worthy of all the awards its been nominated for.

I shoulda held out for "Jesus Is Magic" at the Parkway.

Today I saw Brokeback Mountain. Yeah, the acting was good. But are we really to believe that two people forge a 20-year bond during a youthful summer fling after which they go back to their regularly scheduled lives and continue to see each other two or three times a year? I don't care if you're gay cowboys, straight college kids, happily married people who see your exes at your 30 year high school reunion - I DON'T BUY IT. And even if I did - you are not being fair to yourselves or the people around you. Cut it out - or get together for good and be done with it.

Not to mention, all I kept wondering through the whole film was, "I wonder if Michelle Williams is jealous that her child's father gets to kiss Jake Gyllenhaal and she doesn't?" I know I would be if I was her.

Sigh. I think I'm officially too jaded to ever see a love story ever again.

William, It's Been Eight Months, It Really Was Nothing.

Oh, how I wish I were half as clever as many of these people.

Public service announcement.

Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday Night Live tonight.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Saturday.

"Who is [pro-life], once you start to pay attention?"

Recently viewed:

Dark Water, which was not so interesting even though John C Reilly was in it. Usually I like anything he's in. So that was a little disappointing.

And then Happy Endings, which was really great... but not so happy. And which drove the subject of this post.

And now I have Murderball and some crazy Rob Zombie flick in my hands. I think I'll go with Everybody Hates Chris because I really need a laugh right now... and that's pretty much a guarantee with this show.

So this is the new year...

... and I don't feel any different. Thirty-one is looming over my head and I'm no better off than I was last year at this time.

But! I am hoping that by April things will start to change. I am in the process of setting some things in motion. Personal things, professional things, financial things. It will go more slowly than I would like, but if I start now I should be able to make some good headway. My friend's recent visit proved to be a very good influence on me. It was just the kick in the butt that I needed.

Overall I'm still trying to figure out what I want. But hell, the day I suss out what I do want, there'll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones. (Name that paraphrased tune. Line. Whatever.)

So... stay tuned for new and exciting endeavors. At the risk of jinxing myself and reconsidering, I'll say that the first endeavor involves a half marathon later this year. Even if I do wimp out, it should count for something that I am really, seriously considering and planning for it for the first time... Right?

Public Service Announcement.

Attention, residents of this fine planet! I just wanted to set the record straight on something. When I'm ranting or venting or complaining or whatever word you'd like to use instead of "whining" (which, granted, is what I am doing but it makes it sound so juvenile)...

I am not seeking solutions. I'm not looking for advice, I don't want help problem-solving, I am not trying to achieve an end goal.

I AM JUST WHINING.

Please empathize, sympathize, nod and smile, and/or pat my head accordingly. But don't try to help me. That will really only serve to irritate the living shit out of me (and therefore run whining to someone else about YOU).

Thank you!

Solitary confinement.

Tonight is the first night I have had no commitments since December 15th. I have no unpaid job offsites to plan for, I have no out of town guests to entertain, and I have no deathly illness.

Tonight I don't have to figure out how to keep someone occupied for four more hours while they wait for their medication to settle so that they can eat a snack before they go to bed (hello, parents) and I don't have to listen to a one-sided cell phone conversation (hello, best friend*).

Tonight I can just do what I want. Which involves hanging out with the cat while I watch someone chastise an Antiques Roadshow contestant for buying a crappy rendition of a Civil War sword while I wait for the first part of a very interesting PBS documentary on country boy living.

YAY SOLITUDE.

________________
* I love my best friend. I do. She's my oldest and dearest friend and she knows everything about me. She gets all my quirks. And most importantly, she knows exactly how I like to spend a day shopping (going to every high-end store to seek out the sale racks, finding great deals and exact sizes, getting annoyed with the multitude of stupid shoppers who - like with the DMV, lose 50 IQ points when they enter a store - and gives me THE EYE to commiserate, acknowledging midway that our blood sugar levels have dropped and we really need to eat some pizza... and vice versa).

But I don't see the need for her to recount the conversation about every single action that we did each day with her significant other (which I overheard and obviously get), especially since I am so anti-all-that-crap-right-now. And I don't see the need for her to relay every minute of her conversation (which I overheard and obviously understand the gist of - blahblahblah twocentstampincrease blahblahblah Medicarepleasesignup blahblahblah youhadtofirepeople blahblahblah birthdaycakeforGrandchild blahblahblah) even after I say "yeah I know what you and your mom talked about."

I think that this is what normal people do - talk to their boyfriend and family on a regular basis. And therefore I think that I have officially become hermit material. This bothers me immensely... But at least I've got a PBS show to distract me!

Insert joke about East vs West Coast rap here. And shit.

The past two weeks have seen a serious influx of visitors from back east. My parents were here for a week. A very dear friend was visiting with his girlfriend over the holidays and I got to hang out with him in my favorite local coffee shop.* And this week one of my oldest friends is here on a consulting gig and is staying with me over the weekend.

Maybe if this keeps up I won't have to go BACK THERE ever again...

________________
* How nice to be reminded that EVERYONE from my hometown ends their sentences in "and shit" and swears like a fucking sailor. Really. It was just like being home - without having to actually be home.

Be born again (toll-free).

This was too funny not to publicly laugh at. Or to be publicly very, very afraid of. I now lean toward the latter.

I didn't get much farther than the following instructions on how to translate something into "Alphabetics" before starting to projectile-vomit uncontrollably:

Look before and after a word in its alphabetical listing (such as in a dictionary or lexicon). If a word (such as your name) does not occur in the listing, merely insert it alphabetically where it belongs. Sometimes you will find relevance in words tens of words away from the original word.

But I did learn from a related site that my area code means "band of soldiers" (according to whatever BDB is) or "no rebellion, no uprising" (according to whatever CLBL is). Oooooo-KAY then.

There is so much fun to be had with this. Too bad I'm now so irritated that THIS is how the bloody fundamentalists prove their completely irrational and inhumane points. I mean, Jesus F'ing Christ on a pogo stick, already.

Peachy keen, jellybean.

You know you're feeling better when you dance around your apartment singing along to "Summer Nights"* from Grease, which they are replaying on VH1 for the nine millionth time, probably this time because Kenickie is now on Celebrity Fat Club season 3. (How sad is that, a piece of my childhood has officially been ripped to shreds.) At least there's still the line, "Men are rats, listen to me, they're fleas on rats, worse than that, they're amoebas on fleas on rats. I mean, they're too low for even the dogs to bite." Gotta love that.

It's a little more upbeat than Murderball, which I got from Netflix tonight and really want to see, but which is just not as enthralling as the Pink Ladies, the young Jeff Conaway, and the infamous car chase, tonight.

Watch it - hey, I'm Doris Day.

________________
* When I was in 6th grade my friends and I tried out for the elementary school talent show, re-enacting "Summer Nights" from Grease. We were rejected because of the lines "did she put up a fight?", "she got friendly down in the sand" and "well she was good, you know what I
mean." How come there are no lines in that song where the GUY is a slut?

And then, during the show, after being approved by the "censors," one of the contestants did THE MOST RAUNCHY dance I have ever seen - even to this day - to some stupid song and we were all pissed because he got to feel himself up onstage OVER AND OVER AGAIN and we didn't get to do our well-thought-out routine.

We made our comeback in gym class when we did a group project - an exercise routine to a reworked version of "Shout" by Tears for Fears: "Stress, stress, sweat it all out. Stress is what we can do without. Come on, come exercise with us. Come on." To this day I cannot take that song seriously.

Knowing is half the battle.

I've been getting catalogs in the mail from Eddie Bauer for a while now. I'm really not sure why because I've never bought anything online from them. I finally wrote to them to ask that they remove me from their mailing list, and here is their reply:

As you requested, your name has been removed from our mailing list.  Because
our catalogs are printed up to three months in advance, you may continue to
receive them for a short time.

If you are interested in reducing other unsolicited advertising mail, we
recommend contacting the following organization:

   Mail Preference Service
   C/O Direct Marketing Assn.
   PO Box 643
   Carmel, NY  10512

We appreciate your help in reducing unwanted paper in support of our
environment. 

Pretty cool of them. Now YOU know too.

Bleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh.

________________
From here.

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

I've had a sinus infection since Friday. (Hooray for my apparently-new new year's tradition!) Today was the first day I actually felt like eating substantial food, so on the way home from the drugstore to get more medicine, I picked up something to eat.

I'm not sure what's worse... Giving in to my Barney's craving for curly fries (plus a tofu burger) after eating basically nothing for three days... Or eating my curly fries while watching the Biggest Loser marathon on Bravo.

In the jailhouse now.

I don't know why, but every time I give blood and they ask me the standard pre-req question, "have you spent 72 hours or more in juvenile detention, jail or prison?"... I always, always, always crack up.

I really don't know why.

All I want for my birthday is...

GAAAAAR!!

Or maybe this handy bi-lingual (mouse over the photo) warning to others.

Recently recommended.

And now I get to share the love.

First, my new favorite holiday movie. C'mon, when else do you get to see Denis Leary screaming RIGHT TO THE FACE of two-time Oscar winner Kevin Spacey?

Second, my new most disturbing movie. At times the "acting" was rather atrocious (or maybe people really do talk that way?), but the plot and main character's performance were overwhelmingly memorable. And... well... disturbing.

________________
* Okay, at the time this movie was made Spacey wasn't a two-time Oscar winner. But c'mon, when else do you get to see Denis Leary screaming RIGHT TO THE FACE of Valladolid International Film Festival's 1992 "Best Actor" winner?

Reason #843 to love Samuel L. Jackson.

GENUIS. I CANNOT WAIT.

More here. And here. And here.

I thought I'd never say the phrase "I thought you'd never ask."

It's such a cliche, such a silly phrase. Such a bad-romantic-comedy thing to say. I really hoped to get through life without having said it.

Took a wine country train tour today with the folks. We had a nice meal and then retired to the lounge car for coffee and dessert. Unlike the dining car, which (of course) had tables, the lounge car had seats directly facing the windows so we could all have a nice view. We were sitting next to another family of three, two parents on holiday visiting their son who was about my age. We exchanged some pleasantries and went back to our respective conversations.

After about 20 minutes of us (the kids) saying things and them (our hard-of-hearing dads who were sitting next to us) saying "What?!", and us (the kids) repeating what we had just said, we (the kids) looked at each other. Having said about two words to each other before this, the conversation went something like this:

Him: "I'm going to stretch my legs for a minute, would you like to take a walk through the train?"
Me (getting up immediately): "I thought you'd never ask."

In case you've ever wondered.

The TV Yule Log, C-SPAN featuring 20 hours of non-news and 4 hours of real news, and the Blue Collar Comedy guys were invented solely for my father.

Just to set the record straight.

(Hey - I have a freakin' fiber optic fake Christmas Tree. Judge away.)

Ladies and gentleman, I give you...

... a really long movie with incredibly drawn-out longing wistful looks between Beauty and the Beast!

I mean really. I know it's a love story and all, but PLEASE.

Other than that, and the dinosaur fights* (which were cool in and of themselves but seemed thrown in just so that Jackson could show off his crew's CGI skills - which, in my untrained opinion, were overall not as clean as in the LOTR films), and the fact that it's three hours long, and I'm sorry but who gives a flying fig about Jimmy Elliott and how was he critical to the film?, and have I mentioned the over-extended puppy dog eyes between Beauty and the Beast?...

Other than that, it was pretty good. The Beast's expressions were touching. Jack Black was great and Tom Hanks' son also did a fine job. I was on the edge of my seat during a few of the scenes. There was enough random humor to lessen the intensity. Did I mention Adrien Brody? Adrien Brody.

So given all that, it was worth almost every penny of my $6.

________________
* If you do see it, watch for Lumpy actively smoking while he runs like hell from the dinosaurs. I bet he thought that character trait up himself.

Unrelated - when I was in eighth grade I pretty much lost faith in "the Almighty" and all that surrounds it because my Sunday School teacher could not give me a definitive answer as to why the dinosaurs weren't in the Bible. "They weren't important to the story," she kept saying. If only this magical place had been around! Why didn't a T Rex swallow Jonah? Why weren't there two brachiosauruses (brachiosauri?) and two pterodactyls on the Ark? Did God kill off the dinosaurs? All your answers in one convenient Southern Baptist tourist trap! Now how much would you pay?

(Are you officially scared for mankind right now or what?!)

I can't even begin to imagine what to call this.

I always forget how much mental awareness living with people requires. For the past three days with the parental unit, I have had to be totally conscious and paying attention for about 17 hours a day. It's made me so tired that every time something funny/ridiculous/endearing happens and I think, "I so need to write about that!", it just oozes out of my cerebral cortex and into the void I like to now call my memory.

Unrelated, we watched Alfie (the original) tonight. I can say with certainty that I am no better off because of it.

Slippery Teflon From Utah.

I got an email from the folks today saying they'd checked in, gotten their "A" seats, and were very anxious about the visit.*

Yeah, you and me both. All three of us. Number one, for the record, they DO NOT clean when I go home so I shouldn't have to when they come out here. I managed to clear off the counter and table, which I've been meaning to do since last Monday, and I'll vacuum tomorrow before I head to the airport. But that's IT.

Number two, I have already anticipated the questions surrounding this, and I actually have reasonable answers. But how to explain all the pirate paraphernalia (including a friend's wedding pirate photo), seven seasons of Buffy, cat hair in the refrigerator (gross but true), and the orange couch and matching chair? How, I ask you?

________________
* I assume they actually meant "excited." I may have transferred some of my own feelings into the interpretation. You must understand, I live alone by choice. And I live 3,000 mile away by choice. Not that I regret asking them out here... And not that my apartment is much smaller than their house.

I am SO SURE they feel the same way when I come to visit ("Jesus when can we have our routine back?!"), which is why I'm not feeling so guilty about any of this.

"So far I'm not making this up."

Cute kittens here (takes a while to load - impatient people can go here and click on "Go Behind the Scenes at the San Diego Zoo"). Cute puppies here (Kid Rock has a heart - who knew!). Cute panda here.

And to soak up all the sap from ooohing and aaahing over those videos... 2005's Most Sarcastic Anchorman Award goes to... this guy!!

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DISCLAIMER for all these videos: I can't figure out the best way to link to them so I think they might not all play properly and also that the loop plays. E.g. you might get the Nascar video after the puppy video. YEEHAW!!

Having a very Brady Christmas.

Tonight I did something I thought only happened in sitcoms featuring small children. I used a different washing machine than usual, and I guess that one was more sensitive to the amount of detergent than my normal machine. When I opened the door 39 minutes later, giant waves of soap suds flooded out.

Crap.

That was way too humiliating to call the building manager about. So I ran to get a big plastic bag, cleaned out as many suds as I could, and re-ran the cycle (WITHOUT adding more detergent of course). The second cycle seemed to clean up most of the leftover detergent but the towels still had the sound of wet soap suds when I put them in the dryer.

Oh well. I'll just consider it my latest invention - towels that you take into the shower with you! For complete and easy scrubbing! Soap included.

He puts the "Oh Jesus H Christ" in "Christmas."

Seriously?!?! How has he not been impeached? I truly do not understand. We really have two more years of this shit?

And speaking of Jesus H Christ, this afternoon at Trader Joe's I stood in front of a talkative 93 year old who kept saying how unbelievable it was that we had to be so p.c. about Christmas. "I mean, 'happy holidays?' Really now."

I bet these folks would disagree.

You're that clever shark, aren't you?

My apartment is right next to the elevator, and I can hear when people are getting on/off. It's not loud or anything, just audible. I noticed a while back that Luna had taken to running to the door in what appeared to be expectation of a visitor, whenever she heard the elevator open on our floor. I thought that was pretty odd since I hardly ever have people over. Odd, or perhaps smart. Perhaps she was ready to stand guard, to hold down the fort should a stranger or land shark break in and try to rob or eat us.

Today the phone rang and she ran to the counter, sat under the phone and meowed.

I'm starting to think she's just lonely. Maybe it's time to invest in these babies.

________________
Reason #457 why I should not have kids - THAT'S my solution to the problem. (OK it's a sarcastic solution. But still.) Although, to be fair, both she and Riley once loved to watch the Discovery channel and Microcosmos. I'm not sure why that stopped. Now she's got the Cirque du Soleil squirrels outside for entertainment.

Spam spam spam spam.

Subject: "Or count on sailing."

Um, OKAY!

In other email news, I got my weekly monster.com job search results today. The first on the list was "pre-kindergarten teacher." There are so many things wrong with that.

Best non-criminal job I ever had.

And then this reminds me of my part-time job in college. The evil parking department, which gave out meter-expired tickets the MINUTE your meter expired, and REALLY EXPENSIVE tickets if you parked in a red zone for two seconds to drop off a paper, had a cool alter ego. They had a service that gave you a jump if you drove to campus on a rainy day and forgot to turn your lights off because you were late for your exam. Or changed your tire because you had a flat and couldn't deal with it before class because you were late for your exam. Or gave you a lift to the gas station if you ran out of gas on the way to the exam you were late for. Or popped your lock if you left your keys in the car because you were running to your exam (late).

Being late for exams was not a prerequisite for this service. It was just the reason I heard a lot. But I got paid to sit around a lot and occasionally drive the campus parking truck out to revive dead batteries or change tires or open locked cars or (very rarely) take people to gas stations.

It was the beginning of my career in customer service... and grand theft auto.

The commies are coming - holiday stylie!

This reminds me of the float we made in ninth grade for the homecoming parade. The theme was Olympic galaxies or Olympics of the future or something like that... So we created a float around the main centerpiece of a big Olympic torch and had "alien" competitors in various Olympic costumes.

Everyone said our torch looked like a big flaming feminine hygiene product. Shockingly, we lost the float competition.

Cupie doll to the first person who works this into their next insult or rant: "big flaming feminine hygiene product." Bonus prize if you're male.

I feel fine enough I guess, considering everything's a mess.

Long post - it's been a long day.

There are a few bands I will see whenever possible, whenever they come around, no matter what the cost, or the venue (though I DO hate assigned seating*), or the timing**. One is the Violent Femmes.*** Another is They Might Be Giants, because you just never know what they're going to do. A third is the Barenaked Ladies. Unlike the previous two I also listen to the Ladies' albums on a regular basis. So they are a special breed of "must-sees."

Tonight's show was absolutely needed because I had the most wretched morning at work.**** I was in a horrible mood right before the show, and I had a terrible time finding parking (which SO did not help my mood - however, now I have a good cheap parking lot to recommend!) but once I got in my seat I knew I was in for a good time.

I got there right as they opened. Well, right as the local elementary school choir opened. These cute little kids from a local choir that they'd recruited sang several holiday songs... and part of the way through, the band came out to play and sing in the background. And then the kids left and the band sang really good and/or really fun songs. Some holiday related, some not. And the crowd was SO into it. And I was SO into it. And then Steven Page did a fabulous opera-like version of some Christmas song that I can't remember right now (man, that guy can belt out a song - I will never forget his voice during their improv version of "Memories" a few years ago). And they jovially bantered a lot between songs. And they encouraged cameras and videotaping. And they did a lot of re-enactments of random 80s songs/videos. And someone threw a stuffed monkey onstage during "If I Had A Million Dollars" and Steve stuffed it in his pants and poked the monkey head out through the zipper of his jeans and the band cracked up.

I wish I could entertain people like they do. Or even like they entertain themselves.

_______________
* Tonight's show featured someone nearby who smelled like pee or maybe it was patchouli (I can never tell the difference), and two gals right next to me who talked the whole time. After several "Oh My God SHUT THE FUCK UP" conversations in my head, I managed to kindly ask them to lower their voices if they insisted on talking through the whole show. Turns out the kind, non-abrasive request worked. WHO KNEW?!

** I have the unpaid job day-long meeting this Saturday, and I have a lot to do in prep for it. I hope I can get it all done Thursday evening. Lord knows there is a lot to do.

*** (I think I need Roman numerals to keep up with all these footnotes...) I will never forget a local radio show at a stadium that I went to about ten years ago, where the entire balcony decided to form a "train" and dance up and down the balcony aisles throughtout the Femmes set. And at no other time during the other bands in the show. It was really energizing. Damn, I am getting old.

**** At approximately 10:16am I was THIS close to just outright quitting right then and there. Teeth and eye benefits be damned.

My 2006 resolutions.

Maybe if I make resolutions now, instead of on 12/31/05 or 1/1/06, they might actually stick. I hereby resolve, in 2006, to:

• not yell at that one person at work EVER AGAIN
• have a new job by April (alas, might have to stick it out for the benefits*)
• quit my unpaid job
• go to more plays and local band shows, and watch more hockey games
  
• spend more time with Her Majesty
• meet more single people (not that I don't enjoy spending time with my married/married-with-kids friends but...)

OK that's enough. Don't want to overdo it.

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* Of late I have been dying to get my teeth whitened. Not BRIGHTSMILE white, just a little less coffee-, tea- and wine-stained. It's probably the most vain cosmetic thing I have ever contemplated... Well, seriously contemplated. That whole eyebrow wax thing was totally spontaneous and slightly on the "I wonder what this will look like" side. (But I am sooooo going back next month.)

ANYWAY. I have caps on two teeth that I need to replace when I do get the whitening thing done and if I wait until April the cap replacements are free. Considering I just overdrew my checking account, and I would like to buy a house sometime in my lifetime, anything that's free is sounding pretty good to me.

Oh and also I can't see out of my glasses or contacts anymore so I should probably get those replaced too. Also essentially free next year.

Please contact your friendly IT support...

Today I kept getting a "page not found" error when I tried to access our internal help desk system to research an issue. I picked up the phone and called the local help desk to see if it was just me. It was not just me.

The very nice IT support person gave me the case # of the internal help desk system reference number for the case I opened regarding the access issue. So that I could follow up on the issue via the internal help desk system. Which I could not access.

I swear, over and over again, that I do not make this stuff up.

The semi-annual girlie post.

Today on a whim I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time ever. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. After the wax she did a little extra tweezing. I have tweezed before but I've never had anyone else tweeze.

That experience was much like when you go to the dentist and the cleaning lady flosses your teeth for you. (That is to say, weird.)

I believe the children are our future.

Today I had the opportunity to sit next to a random high school student for a few hours. Boy. High school has really changed since I was there. When he wasn't commenting on how hung over he was, or saying how cool it was that possession of certain drugs didn't buy you jail time, or talking about how the club scene in the city sucked, he asked variations* of the following questions:

• Is Delaware a state?
• Do they have Banana Republic there?
• Saturday counts as the weekend, right?
• Oh my God you're THIRTY??

Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHOW THEM.

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* Actual questions changed to protect the (hopefully) innocent. Except the last one. He really asked that.

I'll take the best of your bad moods...

I really had to drag myself to the local radio station's annual holiday concert last night. When I bought the ticket a month ago, I did really want to see the White Stripes and Death Cab for Cutie. But yesterday I was sooooooo tired and cranky after a long hard week and just wanted to go home.

Several ticket-sale-attempts-via-CraigsList-during-the-day later, I headed into the city to try to sell my ticket outside the concert. Turns out I was not the only one with that idea. Crap. So I figured, well, I'm here, might as well just go. Normally I don't mind going to shows alone. Or plays, or movies, or whatever, alone. I don't have to worry about anyone other than me having a good time and I can decide when it's time to leave. However, the main attendees at this show were high school kids and I was strikingly aware of how old I felt.* I found a seat upstairs in the "parents who can't stand up for 4 hours straight who are chaperoning their kids" section, though, and we old folks all had a good time.

The first band I saw was this one. They're one of those bands that I find interesting to see live, but only when they open for someone I really want to see. Their drummer was really amazing, but a lot of their songs sounded like Rush meets Zeppelin... which only reinforced the "I feel old" sentiment. Alas.

And then Hot Hot Heat came on (oh THEY'RE the ones who sing that catchy bandages song). And THEN.

I'm not sure why I thought Death Cab for Cutie would put on a tame performance. It's not like they're a particularly mellow band. But they TOTALLY ROCKED OUT. Several times they even kicked amplifiers and speakers over. They engaged the crowd throughout. And they did Company Calls, which is my favorite DC song ever (even though I still don't know why).** So that 50 minutes alone was worth my evening.

And then the White Stripes... Forgive me Jack, but the sound was terrible (overall but particularly for them) and they just seemed like they were completing a chore by being at this show. I left after about five songs, when I walked downstairs to see if the sound was better and I still couldn't make out a word of "We're Going To Be Friends." Which is a one-man acoustic song. You know the sound is bad if you can't hear that.

Thus ends my commentary on last night's show. Other than to say, I need to remember this the next time I buy a ticket well in advance of a show I know nobody I know would be interested in attending. JUST GO. You will be glad you did.

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* Sitting up in the balcony looking down on the floor of about 5,000 people, I was highly amused watching the various mosh pits and crowd surfers. Jesus, ten or twelve years ago that would've been me. Good times, good times.

** Second only to The Sound of Settling, which I correlate directly to work... OK who am I kidding, I really love everything they do.

"Grace" must get it from me.

I was at the dentist today for my regular 6-month tartar intervention. There's a new hy... hi... tooth-cleaning lady so she was asking me all sorts of questions (of course while my mouth was gaped open and she was poking around - really, have these people not SEEN the Cosby dentist skit?).

Anyway. I guess she noticed something weird on the inside of my bottom lip and asked if I'd had any "trauma" there. I patiently pointed to the HUGEMONGOUS SCAR (okay maybe it just feels that way to me) from where I busted my lip open falling off a swing when I was four years old. "Oh wow! They did a really good job stitching that up - I barely noticed it." Uh-huh... Riiiiight.

Then she asked about the caps on my two front teeth, and I explained how I fell off my bike in second grade and broke my fall using my teeth and the handlebar. "You were busy as a child!" Uh-huh... CLUMSY, more like.

And then I started thinking about my other scars over the years. I really don't have that many to speak of (nor did I ever break any bones knock on wood)... The only other significant scar was from when I was 14 or so, and my brother played a prank on me by locking me out of the house when I stepped outside for a few minutes, and then turned his music up so loud that he claimed not to hear me knocking or ringing the bell. So I pounded on the door, and rang the doorbell, and then pounded on the glass, and at some point my arm went right through the window. I'll spare you the details. But I will say that they didn't do such a good job stitching that one up, you can still see the "holes" where the stitches were.*

Of late I have scars on my arms from burning myself on oven racks... (At the rate I'm going, my arms could someday look like this.) And all the bruises I find these days but can't remember where they came from.

Yeah, well. My mom hasn't called me "Grace" (with implied air quotes) all these years for nothing.

________________
* He eventually heard my screams and came upstairs to open the door... And then he went a little pale at the sight of all the blood, and gave me the most genuine hug he's ever given me. Minus all the bleeding and pain, it would've been kinda sweet.

Two things I wish I had invented.

Number one. (Check out the video at the bottom of the page.)

Number two. (I don't see anything about reducing the noise factor so you can sneak up on people - maybe I just missed it - but if that doesn't sell these babies nothing will.)

Man. I really have to get moving on that patent for the car tail-lights that light up more brightly depending on how hard you press the brakes. Especially since people already beat me to the butt-warmer seats.

Because what's a blog...

... without cat posts, apparently?

• Name = Luna
• Generic Nickname = Stinky
• Nickname When Bad = NOBADKITTY!!
• Nickname When Playing With Cat Toy = "Grace" (yes, with air quotes - she ain't at all)
• Nickname When Sitting = Her Majesty
• Nickname When Stretched Out On The Floor Waiting To Have Tummy Rubbed = Seal
• Nickname When Meowing Loudly And Incessantly For No Apparent Reason = OMGSTFU!!!
• Nickname When Walking On Me At 4:00 AM = Ummmrphhhhgoaway
• Nickname Reflecting How Cat Came To Be In Possession = Sleeping On Her Brother In The Litter Box At The Humane Society
• Nickname When Sitting On My Lap And Stretching Up To Touch My Chin While Yawning = Why I Love You

But what would Jesus do?

Way to prove your manhood, Scott Stapp - pick a fight with a bunch of scrawny goofballs. How convenient that you just released a solo album... I smell a publicity stunt!!

I hate that guy.

One of these things is not like the other.

Can you guess which one just doesn't belong?

• I am so glad I can watch east coast hockey games not broadcast on television through a webcast from Comcast.
• I am so glad that in a week and a half, I'll be on vacation for two weeks.
• I am so glad the package I stayed home to receive did not get delivered today.

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John LeClair now plays for Pittsburg? What the hell?!

THIS IS JUST TOO FREAKY!!

I can't get over how freaky this is. I just zoomed from my house, to my parents' house, to a random place in Arkansas.

I need my log cabin in the mountains IMMEDIATELY. I'm starting to get the shakes.

Attention Hollywood.

Yesterday I hung out with my friend who was under the weather, and she wanted to watch West Side Story. We had both seen it eons ago and had vague memories of it being somewhat amusing.

Two and a half of the longest hours of my life later, we were not so amused. Aside from the obvious - white people in bad makeup with bad accents playing Puerto Rican people, every stereotype in the book on prominent display, many really really bad songs that went on forever usually accompanied by really really bad choreography - the worst part was that Maria didn't die in the end. What kind of Romeo and Juliet adaptation is THAT?

And what the hell was up with the beat influence? I'm so sure two rival gangs in NYC in the early '60s went around snapping their fingers and saying "Cracko Jacko!" and "Great, daddy-o."

There are reasons that Broadway shows stay on Broadway instead of becoming movies. Ahem.

Behold: time suckage.

Part of my thought process when I clicked on this... "Roses and guns? What do roses and guns have to do with band names? ... D'oh."

[No, I really DON'T make this stuff up.]

How many of the 75 band names represented in this image can YOU find?

Now that's what I call service.

It was with great trepidation that I recently sent my iPod back to Apple for repairs. (It's been shutting down for no apparent reason, and the battery doesn't charge like it should.) They sent me the box to return my defective device about a week and a half ago, but since it's my saving grace on a daily basis and especially during workouts, I was really, REALLY reluctant to hand it over. Sad, I know, but true.

I had until 12/9 to return it, so I took a big gulp and sent it in last Wednesday. Today I got an email stating that the repaired device (which I am hoping is just a brand new one) is on its way back to me and should arrive in 2-3 days.

To which I say, RIGHT ON.

I am a therapist-specializing-in-codependency's wet dream, I would bet.

Spam spam spam spam.

It was really hard to resist opening this recent spam email with the subject:

redundant toad Jarred Burnsl

But I think that I will add "redundant toad" to my list of insults. Along with "is your head an EMPTY COCONUT??" which my friend's 9 year old recently inquired of her.

Hello again, ten pounds I recently lost.

So evil of them to HAND ME THE RECIPE for one of the only drinks I now consent to purchase from them. Just to irk them I will publish the recipe here (it's not like we couldn't just figure it out on our own anyway!):

Starbucks Eggnog Latte
Start by blending your favorite cold eggnog with cold whole milk in a 2:1 ration and steam until it reaches 145 degrees F. Note that eggnog scalds more quickly than milk, so be careful not to overheat.

1. Steam: Eggnog-milk mixture to 145 degrees F.
2. Add: One shot of brewed espresso to cup.
3. Fill cup with: Steamed Eggnog-milk mixture to 1/4 inch below rim.
4. Top with: 1/4 inch Eggnog-milk foam mixture.
5. Garnish with: A sprinkle of nutmeg.

How to thank an 8-year old.

I spent quite a bit of time today trying to write a "thank you" card to a coworker's 8-year old son, who voluntarily donated 1/3 of his annual allowance to his (and my) charity of choice for 2005. It was truly ridiculous.

I kept going back to the card his mom had written: "[Son] gets $3 a week, $1 of which he has to put into savings, $1 of which he can spend (but never does) and $1 of which he gives to the charity of his choice."

He's EIGHT... That's damn fine parenting in my book.

Snap. Crackle. Pop culture.

Tonight on the bus I saw an advertisement for Good Vibrations.* I can only guess that the approvers of that ad thought it was a Berkeley hippie thing.

Come the hell on, people. I mean, Michael Stipe and Billy Bragg spontaneously ad-libbing lyrics to it back in the 90's was funny, but this (which is now a goddamned real live TV commerical) is soooooo not.

We'll give you $1,000,000 to bob for apples in a vat of cow's blood... But we'll only give you $100,000 for losing LOTS O'WEIGHT and keeping it off. YAY AMERICA!!

Thank God for the latest Virgin Mobile commercials which put the holidays into perspective.

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* Do not click when children or coworkers are present.

Who needs kids...

... when you have a cat that can manage to get food all over her head when she is startled by a loud noise during her dinnertime?

Aye carumba.

Wreck the halls.

Since learning that my parents decided to accept my invitation to come out for Christmas, I have been very much against the concept of holiday decorations. There are a few reasons behind this - namely that red, gold and green absolutely do not go with my orange, avocado and mustard living room decor; and also it seems sacrilegious to try to create my own tradition just for this year when there are years and years of tradition in their attic that I could never come close to replicating (nor would I want to, nor do I want to create my own tradition just yet).

Then I saw this at Target today - on sale for $14.99. And all bets were off. My brand new Charlie Brown FIBER OPTIC Christmas tree.



That's right, you can't really see it from the photo, but there's fibers and optics going on in this little 3 foot sucker. And chances are low that Her Majesty will eat it - bonus.

And then I just went nuts with the rest of the decorations. This place is going to look like a cyclone hit it before too long.

________________
Does anyone besides me remember that Sesame Street Christmas album from 1975, not the re-versioned album but the original pre-Elmo one complete with the Bert/Ernie/Mr Hooper story and the Spanish songs? Yeah - this one! MUST. HAVE. IT. Bid on this and you're on MY LIST.

God, eBay scares me. And also makes me wish I'd saved a lot of the fond memories from my childhood. If only they had this on CD... This and this I heard enough in my first 22 years and don't really have to ever hear again... but I miss the other two dearly.

One down, three to go.

I did see Walk the Line today. There's a scene where Johnny is talking to June and she asks him if he's alone on Thanksgiving. Us single folk in the audience snickered.

I really don't think anyone other than Joaquin Phoenix could've played this part well. He has the rugged good looks, and can kinda sing like Cash. Hell, Cash chose him to play the part. But all I could think about during the scenes where Cash recounts losing his brother, and goes through withdrawal, was how easy (and yet so hard) it must've been for Phoenix, having had similar experiences.

(OK, so I also was very focused on how utterly hot he is, but that's a story for another day. But I do officially forgive him for The Village now.)

Maybe she needs more steroids.

Today going home on the elevator a woman had her cat with her - the woman didn't want to leave the cat in the car while she ran upstairs, and also someone in her department had wanted to meet the cat. The cat was in a carrier, of course, and the woman politely asked if anyone was allergic to cats before entering the elevator. On the way down I admired and petted this beast of a cat, who looked a lot like Luna in terms of fur and eye color but not so much size, and started to think.

Maybe all the other cats that seem GINORMOUS to me are actually normal-sized cats, and Her Majesty is just a puny-sized cat, and I just don't see it because she's my only perspective. I haven't had another cat to regularly compare her to since Riley, and even he was a GINORMOUS cat.

If so, that just makes me love her even more. And call her "Runt" often and honestly, of course.
________________
I have often wondered what "bring your pet to work" would look like for Her Majesty. I'm guessing she would spend some time eyeing the hawks that float in the sky outside my building, and some time "talking" to people who would be more than happy to give her the love I CLEARLY don't give her (or so you would think, listening to her whine all the live-long day), and a lot of time sleeping in cozy corners. For now I'll stick with the "YAY JEANS" rule and see if I can work the "bring your pet to work" day sometime in the next few years.

"How to evade a stampede of shoppers."

My friend gave me a "Worst Case Scenario 2005 Survival Calendar" either for Christmas or my birthday. I can't remember.

At times it has provoked thought ("How To Survive If Trapped In A Lion Cage," "How To Jump From A Moving Car," "How To Cross A Pirhana-Infested River" - in what life might I need this information? it sounds like a much more interesting life than the one I lead now).

At times it has contained some highly useful information ("How To Lose Someone Who Is Following You In A Car," "How To Avoid And Survive A Hit And Run," "How To Carry Someone Who Is Passed Out," "How To Win A Bar Fight" - all perfectly feasible situations in the life I currently live).

And sometimes, like next week's, it's just funny. So for anyone about to hit the malls on Friday for a little holiday shopping, I offer the following advice from the 2005 Worst Case Scenario Survival Calendar:

• "Stay focused and visualize your goal... Reacting early and decisively in crowds affords you your best shot at survival."
• "Avoid herd mentality... Avoid the temptation to join the herd - you cannot shop if you cannot see the merchandise."
  
• "Do not move toward the oncoming herd. You risk being trampled..."
• "Maximize your movement options... stay on the edge [of the crowd]."
• "Wear proper shoes."
  

OK maybe it's just funny to me... because I need to hit the malls on Friday.

________________
Others are amusing too, and each one has a diagram or cartoon to accompany the advice... I especially like the cartoon for "How To Escape If Trapped In A Walk-In Freezer." It's a guy trapped in a walk-in freezer laying face down inside a cardboard box with a big tub of ice cream and a spoon next to him.

Flippity floppity floo.

My thought process tonight went a little something like this:

[5:22pm.] Shit! I need to finish what I'm doing and catch the bus so I can get home and drive the less than mile back to the gym (the really cheap one that closes at 7pm)... [On the way to the bus stop, about a minute too late.] Shit - there goes the bus. I should just forget the gym tonight and do laundry instead. I could walk home and that would at least be something. [Starting to walk home.] Nah, I'll go to the gym and do my usual workout and catch the bus all gross and sweaty. [Starting to walk back toward the gym.] Nah, I'll just go home and do laundry instead. [Arriving at the crosspoint of gym vs bus.] Nah, I'll go home and get my car and have a shorter time at the gym and not offend people who have to sit near me on the bus. [At the bus stop.] Nah, I'll just go home and do laundry. [On the bus.] I should just go to the gym and do what I can in the 45 minutes I'll have left.

And so I did. And I ran more than I usually run in a shorter period of time I usually bother to do anything. Dammit, I have dropped between 12-15 pounds (depending on the day) and a lot of my old clothes actually fit again and I'll be damned if I'm going to gain it all back and have to go through this again. Dammit.

And then I went to the gym and came home and ate something healthy and now I'm hungry but I keep thinking about how my convictions need to stand for something. Dammit.

Randomness.

I talked with a few friends today about making the change to a job where you don't have any formal experience but where you think you could be really good (writing... in some capacity that involves getting an assignment, finishing it and moving on to the next assignment). One friend (who does not know about this here endeavor) suggested I start writing as a hobby and then see if I can "donate" articles for exposure. He had some other good ideas too. But I am guessing this here endeavor doesn't really count as something valuable in that arena. It's really just a channel with which to rant and vent...

Why did I start getting Sunset magazine in the mail? I really don't understand...

Many people seem really shocked that I have no plans for Thanksgiving. In case there was any doubt - rest assured, I don't WANT any plans for Thanksgiving. Plans other than going for a run and then eating too much, seeing this or this or maybe this or perhaps this, and of course drinking lots of wine, and of course hanging out with Her Majesty, and of course watching this, that is. Really truly I mean it. The 'rents visiting for Christmas is more than enough holiday for me to take this year.

Speaking of 'rents - I am officially boycotting this. And you should too. For the love of all that is holy, leave a good thing alone, will you, Hollywood??!

I haven't seen Evil Dead II yet.

I can't believe that I have sat through almost every Freddie and Jason movie, but it took me 24 years to see this flick. So sad. I especially loved the last 20 minutes - it was almost like Sam Raimi was playing the "how much glop, guts and gore can we spray directly into Bruce Campbell's face" game. Genuis.

And can I be the first to say please God no? Why must they do this? Why, I ask you?

"Victory through mediocrity."

No, I don't mean that a young monk was recently excused from performing a portion of a monk's duties.

I mean what my friend uttered after a less-than-rousing - rather annoying, actually - game between the Raiders and the Redskins. But hey, we won. Yippee.

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You so knew I was going to blog that, right?!

Question of the day...

... do I apply for the job where I don't really understand one "requirement" but have experience in all the other "requirements"?

I'm thinking yes. Maybe I can wing it.

Pot kettle black.

I was highly amused at the young couple sitting next to me in the theater, scoffing at all the "nerdy" teeny boppers in the back who squealed in delight for the Narnia and King Kong previews... in the theater on opening night for Harry Potter Part IV. Uh huh.

Tonight was my first real endeavor into Hogwarts land, and now I get why people are into the Harry Potter phenomenon. I can't say that I will go forth and read all the books and see all the other movies though... Hermione gets on my nerves, Ron needs a spine, Harry reminds me too much of Frodo, and quite frankly I just can't take the stress that accompanies long-term emotional investments with fictional characters anymore. (I think the Lord of the Rings trilogy really did me in. I DON'T KNOW THEM. THEY AREN'T REAL. IT'S JUST A FREAKIN' MOVIE.)

Perhaps if I had a life of my own I would feel differently. For now, though, I'll stick to things like Nip/Tuck. When the show is done, I can think, "boy, what assholes," and move on.

I could go around the world 3.6 times!

I have seven weeks of vacation saved up. SEVEN WEEKS. How did that happen? I've already taken several weeks off at a time this year. So weird. And crazy.

So... where should I go? :)

Sharing the pain.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! indeed. What the hell part of EMMY WINNING does Fox not understand...? Fucking America and their fucking need for blood and guts and gore and violence. How about a LITTLE HUMOR for a change, for Christ's sake?!? Read the fucking NEWSPAPER for your blood and guts and gore and violence.

Ahem. Sorry, I just really really really like this show. It made Monday worth looking forward to.

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No worries, Bluth-loving comrades. I am certain that some cable channel will pick it up and run with it. It just better not be HBO, because I don't get that channel, is all I have to say.

What's not to love?

I never watch MTV and I haven't read Spin in eons (until yesterday at the airport - it's such an airport magazine) so I'm a little slow on the pop culture uptake these days.

I liked their music a lot before seeing any of their videos, but now I just have to say that I am so in love with all four members of Franz Ferdinand.* It's quite pathetic, really.

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* For the easily-startled or "hardly working" IE users - this link opens up their latest video which automatically starts playing. I don't know how to get it to play in Firefox. Anyway, allegedly, the lyrics for this song came directly from conversations overheard at a party. I'm such a sucker for art imitating life imitating art.

And stop calling me Shirley.

On the flight to Southern California yesterday, I sat next to a woman who found out this weekend (while on a business trip in San Francisco) that she'd lost her house in the tornados in Indiana. LOST HER HOUSE. Literally. According to witnesses she'd spoken to on the phone, the roof was blown off, everything got sucked up through the hole, and her house was ripped off the foundation and carried 300 feet away. She was holding up pretty well, considering she hadn't seen the damage and she had no idea what was still there, where she would stay in the meantime, if she even still had her car...

I walked off the plane marveling at her ability to revel in the fact that she and her husband, and their animals, were not on the property at the time. Instead of getting mired down in the loss and sadness of the whole thing, she was thankful for what she still had. Truly inspiring lesson for us all.

And then on the flight home tonight, I sat two rows up from someone who apparently passed out on the flight. It was really interesting to see the flight attendants react - they were immediately by her side, on headsets talking with (what I guess were) medical assistants, on the loudspeaker asking if there were any medics on the flight. And all the while graciously apologizing to the folks who'd ordered drinks that they were not going to get during that flight.

These events were interesting and inspiring and memorable, but next time I fly can I just have one of those jive dudes in the seat next to me? I can help - I speak jive.

Soy un perdedor.

Note to self - next time you think about bringing the folks out for the holidays, check the expiration date on your free tickets BEFORE offering.

Note to readers - if you have an expired free Southwest ticket, you can get the expiration date extended for a mere $50. Ask me how. Might not seem worth it for an in-state flight, but for a coast-to-coast trek over the holidays, it is. She says, four hundred fifty bitter dollars later...

The senior rates at Southwest are also quite good... if you happen to be flying a senior who wasn't going to change their mind about coming out after hearing that their return flight would land at home after midnight with an hour's drive still ahead.

HA-ha!

I cannot help but gloat that all of Arnie's propositions were vetoed by the general public in our state. I did actually read each proposition, do additional research, and make educated decisions about all of them. But I can't say I'm surprised that a lot of people "just said no" on principal alone. And I can't say I completely agree with that - but I can't say I completely disagree either.

And yes, I was dismayed but not shocked that Prop 73 was as close as it was... Did those "yes" voters not see Dirty Dancing, for Christ's sake??

In other election news... BOO to the Bible Belt.* YAY to the Borough.

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* I can't make excuses for Texas. I gave that up a long, long time ago. But Kansas? I know there's not much going on in Kansas - wouldn't a few curved roads be a more interesting time investment than this issue, though?

Mon Dieu!

What the hell is going on in France?? I really need to get over this policy of not watching/reading the news for days at a time.

Don't forget to vote ...

... for the 2005 Weasel Awards! Winners announced November 8. Some were really hard choices, especially the weaseliest individual (it was really a toss up between Dubyah and Tom Cruise).

(Oh, and don't forget to vote in this election either.)

Oh, and seriously??

WTF happened to all my Firefox bookmarks, settings, etc?? They're all gone. All of them. And I swear I did NOTHING to cause that to happen.

Where were you when I needed you, Susan?

Why I suck at being a leader, exhibits A through H:

A. A leader must have the courage to act against an expert's advice. - James Callaghan

B. There's nothing more demoralizing than a leader who can't clearly articulate why we're doing what we're doing. - James Kouzes and Barry Posner

C. Whoever is providing leadership needs to be as fresh and thoughtful and reflective as possible to make the very best fight. - Faye Wattleton

D. Leadership can be thought of as a capacity to define oneself to others in a way that clarifies and expands a vision of the future. - Edwin H. Friedman

E. The art of leadership is saying no, not yes. It is very easy to say yes. - Tony Blair

F. Leadership should be born out of the understanding of the needs of those who would be affected by it. - Marian Anderson

G. I suppose leadership at one time meant muscles; but today it means getting along with people. - Indira Gandhi

H. Cautious, careful people, always casting about to preserve their reputation and social standing, never can bring about a reform. Those who are really in earnest must be willing to be anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathy with despised and persecuted ideas and their advocates, and bear the consequences. - Susan B. Anthony

TO JEANS!

Oh my God. I can't believe I forgot to mention this yesterday. After the offsite a few of us learned we could wear jeans to work whenever we didn't have any mucky-muck meetings.

Talk about the easiest way to boost morale. I gotta buy more jeans.

Hmmm...

They changed this Sunday's church sermon topic from "The Joy of Sex" to "The Joy of Friendship" recently. Unless I totally hallucinated that whole sex thing. I really don't think I did, though.

The church is right next to a middle school. Wonder if that had anything to do with it.

Or perhaps it's a conspiracy. "Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you."

At least I don't have to go to church on Sunday now.

Start 'em young, I always say.

This made me laugh. Arrrr.

"You know how I know you're gay?"

Last night I saw 40-Year Old Virgin. On the Parkway's 2-for-1 night. Thank God.

Here is my review:

It was a guy flick. In case you couldn't tell from the quote used as a subject for this post.

That's cool - we have our flicks. You need yours. You want to imagine meeting a grandma as hot as Catherine Keener? Go for it. You want to think that doing nothing but asking questions is the way to seduce a girl? OK. You want to brag about your "accomplishments"? Whatever. While you do that, we'll be watching John Cusack movies and cursing the day that you were born.

I will say, in its defense, that the very end of this movie was worth EVERY SINGLE PENNY of my $2.50.

And damn, Paul Rudd is hot. But, even several movies later, I still don't know what it is about him.

I thought 30 was bad.

I have walked past Searching For Debra Winger so many times in the video store* because I thought it was about... well... what the hell happened to Debra Winger after Terms of Endearment.

But now I know it's about this. And it's by her. And I am soooooo renting it.

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* Yeah, I have Netflix. Yeah, I go to the video store. Just when I walk the long way home and pass by it... and have 2 more days till I get my next Netflix fix.

Yeah, I have no life. What of it??

"We accept you, one of us!"

Last night I watched Freaks for the first time. This movie made #15 on Bravo's list of 100 scariest movie moments.* I don't know... It was a very sad movie. But scary? I wasn't scared.

The only thing to really freak me out (no pun intended) was the armless, legless guy who lit his own smoke and squirmed across the ground like a snake. But then I started thinking, shit - if he can do that and seem to be at peace with it, what the hell am I always bitching about?

I am probably the only person I know who would find inspiration in a movie like this.

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* Jaws was #1? Seriously? The Exorcist and The Shining were way scarier than Jaws. It was a freakin' mechanical shark, for Pete's sake. And I don't care what you say, Freddie still creeps me out. Not as much as the silver ball flying down the hall in Phantasm, where about ten feet from the kid's head, metal spikes shoot out of it. And Pinhead? Hello?? Still gives me shivers.

So... What's YOUR favorite scary movie?

Note to self.

Stop volunteering for public speaking events even though it's a skill you would like to develop. Especially public speaking events that you think will be one thing, but that you know will morph into something stupid and impossible.