Teddy Bears and Dick Cheney: The Evils of Stuffed Soulless Objects

So, Dick Cheney shot someone.

Other than that, things haven't been too exciting with me. Took my cousin shopping on Saturday and then over to meet my good Indian friends for dinner. Their kids are getting so big - makes me feel all the older.

I was in Target on Friday buying toys for said kiddies, and pondering which Pocket Polly sets to get for the little girls, when I hear a woman and her daughter behind me, apparently looking for a gift for another child. The little girl suggested a stuffed animal, and her mom positively SNAPPED something along the lines of "Don't be ridiculous. What if (the kid) has some kind of allergies? I don't know any mother that would appreciate that kind of present."

Am I seriously that behind the times that I just don't know about stuffed animals being considered as weapons of mass inflammation? What happened to getting nice squishy teddy bears as a gift? I freaking loved those things. When did stuffed animals become sinister and harmful? (And Teddy Ruxpin doesn't count.) Am I the only one who is horrified by the woman's reaction? I think what further rubbed me the wrong way is that, ok maybe stuffed animals are the work of Satan, but you don't have to respond to your child like s/he is a mentally impaired menace to society. I wish I weren't reminded so often that people suck.

My Super Bowl Commentary

This won't be lengthy as I have no stake in Super Bowl XL, just a few comments.

I don't really care who wins, but I do like Jerome Bettis, and Matt Hasselbeck is the brother-in-law of Elizabeth Hasselbeck, one of those vapid biddies who hosts The View on ABC. Not only can I not tolerate anyone who will work with Star Jones, but this particular vapid biddy spoke at the 2004 Republican National Convention. So I'm going to lean towards the Steelers.

What was with people booing Tom Brady for the coin toss? Sure I'm glad that for once in a bozillion years that the Patriots aren't in the Super Bowl, but come on, there's no need to boo the guy. It's not like he's Randy Moss.

Al Michaels = cheesedick.

Rolling Stones for the halftime show = safe choice, somewhat boring, better than Britney Spears wearing a sock on her arm or Janet Jackson Boobgate every single day of the year. I guess you gotta credit them dried-up pieces of leather for their sheer stamina to keep on keepin' on.

September 24, 2006 - the New Orleans Saints will be back in the Superdome!!! Whoohoooo!!!

My Weekend - Sushi, Chatty Cathies, and Getting Molested by a 2 yr old

So, the summary for this weekend.

My cousin has been itching to see the sights in downtown Chicago, so I finally had a weekend with enough time to devote the day to take her down there. We got on the train and hopped over to the Sears Tower. I don't think I'd been to the Skydeck in at least 20 years if not more. My cousin was properly shocked and awed by the view from there. It was a bit too cloudy to see really far, but we got to see enough. We're peering out at the Hancock and Navy Pier, when I feel tiny fingers on my inner thigh. Whaaa??? I look down for the owner of the fingers, get a little 2 yr old girl by the hand and say "I'm not your mom, hon!" She looks up at me, completely unfazed, lets go of my hand and goes to burrow in the correct set of legs ( I assume.) I wasn't even wearing the same color pants as her mother.

Skygaping done, we went over to have lunch at Cheesecake Factory at the bottom of the Hancock, which my cousin also loved, and then did some shopping at Water Tower. My cousin actually ran into a girl there who was her best friend during kindergarten in Korea. The girl's living in Chicago now studying English. How crazy is that? Cuzz nearly had a heart attack.

Then, my aunt insisted that my cousin buy my mom a birthday present, which is no easy task. Mom is the worst person in the world to buy presents for. Anyone who thinks I'm the worst person to buy for should meet my freaking mom. Not only do clothes and jewelry not work for her, but she is one of 7 women in the world who has no interest in bath and body stuff or candles. Knitting or crocheting stuff for her in the last year has been my saving grace. We ended up not getting anything for her at WT, but came back home and checked out the local mall, where we got a bamboo plant in a ceramic dragon dish, and this (Japanese?) teeny tiny wooden scene thing encased in glass. Or something.

On the way back home on the Metra, my cousin and I were seized with private giggling and sympathy at the plight of a woman across the aisle, who had gotten caught in the throes of an Overly Friendly Talker. This poor little woman had gotten stuck in the same seats as a gentleman who would. not. shut. up. The beleaguered woman had to get on her cell phone to get a break from him. And when her call regrettably ended, of course the man just started talking again. I informed cousin that this is why she can't come to Chicago alone on the train. She was properly put off the idea for good. Evidently in Korea, Overly Friendly Talkers are non-existent, so she's quite startled when strangers talk to her at all.

Sunday was Mom's birthday, so I took my cousin and the p's over to Todai Seafood Buffet in Schaumburg which means all you can eat sushi. Gooooooood stuff. Sushi is really just an excuse for me to eat wasabi. Mom loved the lace scarf that I made her and the gifts from my cousin, plus the carrot cake that we made for her turned out pretty freaking yum. I'm getting old as I am just freaking exhausted right now. Trying to stay awake and knit and peek alternately at the Super Bowl and the 2nd Annual Animal Planet Puppy Bowl. I don't really get the purpose of the Puppy Bowl - it seems to be 3 straight hours of watching puppies play. But I can think of a lot worse ways to spend my time than watching puppies.

I'm putting paid to this post and inviting one of my kitties to sit on my lap instead of this machine. Toodles.

And You Thought America Was Repressed

So, I've been learning a few things about life in Korea from my new roomie, my cousin. One of the major things is that Koreans are VERY appearance-conscious. LK may make fun of me for having seen me in sneakers only once, but I'm a Price Mart piece of trash compared to the importance that Koreans seem to place on their images.

Women are extremely conscious of their weight - fat women are very rare in Korea. Men are also conscious of their weight although maybe not to the exact same extent. Plastic surgery is more common in Korea than in America. (although if the average American could afford it I'd be interested to see where the rates would skyrocket to - Pluto, or only Uranus. Hee hee, Uranus.) And Koreans LOVE their designer brand names. Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, if it's an overpaid American designer, they want to wear it and wear them logos LARGE.

So this leads into tonight, when my cousin and I were watching Project Runway on Bravo, which we both love. It's really interesting to see what kinds of designs the contestants come up with, and of course any reality tv is a fine study in train wreck sociology. I made the comment that I would marry one of the men working for the show (he seems to be the majordomo of the show, Tim Gunn, for those of you who watch.) even though he may be gay. My cousin was quite surprised to find out that a large percentage of the men on the show were in fact gay. She's also been exposed to Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, which seems to have given her the impression that there are a LOT of gay men in America. She commented that she didn't think there were many gay men at all in Korea. I said "or maybe there are, but they just haven't told anyone." Because let's face it, where there are people, there are heterosexuals and homosexuals. Whether or not they can speak about it, and consequently how much their presence is recognized, is largely defined by their culture and environment. And I think it's likely that in Korea, people just don't speak about homosexuality much. Granted, my cousin is only 20, and I had encountered a lot less gay people at 20 than I have by the ripe old age of 34. But I very much doubt that she will encounter too many openly gay Korean men, just because it seems like the appearance-conscious culture over there is not amenable to them.

But honestly, where do they think they are getting all their beloved designer brand name clothes from? Straight men??? Have they SEEN the way straight men dress????

I LIVE

It's true. I do live. I did not off myself or drive off a cliff or elope with Puff the Magic Dragon. (wouldn't that be cool, though?) Things just got uber nuts with the holidays and me getting a new roomie that there hasn't been time or energy to blog. So what are the highlights for all you sports fans?

For you literal sports fans, I bet my dad $20 that Rex Grossman would hurt himself during the playoffs. There was that one play at the end of the game when he ran and slid where I was sure I would win me some cash money. But no money for me and no win for the Bears.

My cousin arrived at the end of December, right before Christmas. We have pretty much gotten used to each other, and luckily for me she is very nice. Hopefully she thinks the same of me but hey - I'm the landlady, she don't got no other choice. She has started school at the local community college and has oodleloads of homework. There's of course still lots of gaps in communication but after all she is here to learn English better so that's to be expected. So far she's in awe of many things in America, namely what we show on tv (South Korean tv is VERY restricted evidently), the shopping outlet prices, and the concept of making baked goods at home. Oh, and how frigging much we eat. Her living here has made a positive impact on my waistline, as I think more about how much I am really eating, and we have also become workout buddies, doing yoga and/or Pilates nearly every day.

And that's a good thing because I'm going to be a bridesmaid for my best friend's brother's fiancee. We went to look at wedding dresses for her yesterday and the lucky girl ended up buying the first one she tried on. It's truly one of the more unique gowns I have seen and it is gorgeous on her. I got to flashback to 2001 and try on some bridesmaid dresses. Some things never change, and how I look in pink satin is one of them. Thankfully, she does NOT want pink dresses for us. The couple is a bit overwhelmed with wedding planning so I am glad to pitch in with any remaining bridesmaid powers I retained from 2001.

My new favorite quote (and it is perhaps hubris to quote myself but it's my frigging blog, so deal with it) was in response to playing the game "Who Would You Do?" with my friends John and LK, and being presented with the choice between two disgusting nasty ex-co-workers:

(Me) "That's like choosing between shit and shit with corn."

My other new favorite quote is from Brokeback Mountain, which I saw with John and LK.
(Jack) "This is one goddamned bitch of an unsatisfactory situation."
I need to use that all the time. The movie was pretty good by the way. Not the best movie I ever saw in my whole life, but really pretty good. Though the 1970's portion of the movie DID make me fall out of love with Jake Gyllenhaal. DAMN YOU, NED FLANDERS.

I went to San Francisco for a work conference. I happened to be on the same flight out there with John who was also going out there for work, so we hit a fried chicken place for dinner when we got there. That was basically the highlight of the trip for me. The conference was dead boring. We sat and listened to so many presentations that my ass nearly collapsed in on itself. I had to actively pray that I would not experience an Ass Supernova, or worse yet an Ass Black Hole that would suck in all the boring around me and create a new Boring Galaxy. When you think that perhaps a presentation by a motivational speaker (3-time Olympic luge medalist. You heard me. Luge.) was perhaps the high point of the conference, you know that things were bad. Real bad. But seeing the Europeans that I used to work with was really nice.

Next week is Mom's birthday, and my cousin and I are planning to make her favorite, carrot cake for the occasion. My cousin is totally excited at a) the prospect of making more baked goods at home and b) she really likes carrot cake.

My mother on the other hand, is not such a whiz at baking (it's really just not done in Korea at home, so she never had to learn.) although she's a super fantastic cook. To illustrate the sheer depth and breadth of her baking don't-know-how, I bring you the following story.

My mom buys stuff on sale. She'll just about buy any type of food if it's buy one get one at the Jewel. I once told her that I really think she'd buy George Bush if he was on sale. She assured me that she wouldn't but I don't really believe her. So around Christmastime, she purchased two tins of fudge because they were $2.50 apiece.

Now, I hate fudge. The texture squicks me out nearly as bad as heavy cheesecake. My cousin had just tried fudge at my friend's house and really disliked it. So Mom brings out two tins of fudge, and none of us can really eat it as it turns out that she and my pops didn't end up liking it either. So she's stuck with a boatload of fudge.

At this point, you'd think the logical thing to do was to melt the fudge down and mix it with instant grits. What? That's not the logical thing to do? Well it's what Mom ended up doing in an attempt to salvage the fudge. Not only did she mix it with instant grits she mixed it with UNCOOKED instant grits. Not only did she mix it with UNCOOKED INSTANT GRITS but one of the fudge flavors happened to be strawberry cheesecake, which rendered the entire mess a sickly pinkish-brown. This resulted in the effect that once the mess was cooled and cut into squares, it looked EXACTLY. LIKE. SPAM. That's right, my mom got a chocolate product to resemble POTTED PORK SHOULDER AND HAM. We tasted it out of curiousity - I had to wipe off my tongue and drink water and eat something else. The texture was even worse than you'd expect. My only regret is not getting pictures of the pseudoSpam.

Well, I think that's some of the high points anyway, and hopefully I will be much better this year about keeping up the blog. Thanks for any fans (all 3 of you) who may have stuck around this long. Mooches smooches.

Questionable Weekend

So this weekend was the first I had to myself in a while. Saturday I got some knitting done, some cleaning done, and I'm feeling pretty good about my productivity so far.

Then, around 4:30 Saturday afternoon, I ran out to get gas and some groceries. On my way home, the "check engine" light goes on in my car. SH*T!!! Maybe I can make it home. Nope. Car starts stuttering and SMOKING, I pull over and turn on hazards. It's raining. It's dark. I left my cell phone on the charger.

I open the hood but can't see anything b/c it's dark and of course, the flashlight in my car has dead batteries. I start freaking a little. Eventually, a fire rescue car from my town stopped, took a look at my engine and said a hose was blown (which was totally obvious once there was light.) He lent me his cell phone so I could call my dad to come get me, and said he'd call the sheriff and let them know the car would be on the side of the road till I could get it towed.

While waiting for Dad, two police cars pull up and ask if I need help. One called a tow truck for me and Dad got there and I piled my groceries in his car. A lot of rain and cold later, I'm back home. I was really lucky that the police and fire rescue saw me relatively quickly to help. They rock as far as I'm concerned.

Dad got a new hose and installed it this morning, and we put some more coolant in and got the car started again. The car's still a bit stuttery when I hit the gas - Dad thinks a belt may have gotten wet while we were all staring at the engine in the rain. The "check engine" light is still on - it may just need to be reset by a mechanic, but dear old Dad is going to take it in tomorrow to get it checked out. I have a conference call and a phone interview tomorrow or I'd do it.

I think the rain and the cold have gotten the best of me though - now I'm pretty sure I have a fever and I have a headache. Oh well, escaping this mess with a cold is pretty frigging good if you ask me.

I am wrapped in blankets now watching the Bears game. The Saints just "fumbled", although it still looks to me like the guy lost control of the ball after he was down. Oh well, I guess that's one for us. Our QB, Kyle Orton cracks me up because he looks like he's all of 15 yrs old, a fact he may have realized as he's gone and grown a big-boy beard, which just makes him look like a 15 yr old with sad chin pubes.

I'm going to stop typing now and snuggle back under the covers. Cheers, y'all.

A Conversation Between Me and My Cat

Guinness: (surreptitious chewing plastic bag noise)
Me: Guinness?
Guinness: (louder faster chewing plastic bag noise)
Me: Guinness!!!
Guinness: (warp speed chewing plastic bag noise)
Me: GUINNESS!!!!!
Guinness: Mrroow? What did I do, bitch?

No I'm Not Dead

I just didn't feel like blogging for a while. So here I am to plunge into the random.

The White Sox have a good chance to win the Series. As an avid Cubs fan, I will not insult the real Sox fans by jumping on the bandwagon. Also, I just don't want to. But I do hope that the Sox win the Series and maybe the Cubs will be shamed into getting a decent pitching staff. Look, Tribune Company, look at what a baseball team can do with an actual BULLPEN.

It's been a cold and dark year in sports for me, period. The Bears are at the top of the worst NFL division in recorded history. Any team who makes it to the playoffs from the NFC North may as well just not show up as they will vaporize upon contact with a real team. And my trusty alma mater, Illinois, whose football team I thought surely could not get worse after Ron Turner left, can get worse and did get worse. This past weekend was a 63-10 gouging by Penn State. The pain just never stops.

Yesterday I turned 34. It's kind of a weird feeling - I'm "mid-30's" now. My brain hasn't progressed past "late 20's". I've gotten lots o cool gifts though - my friends have noticed my knitting freak to say the least - I got two gift cards to Michaels craft store and lots of cool knitting stuff.

This morning I had to bite my lip to not walk into the office and quit after a super fun 90 minute commute. I really need a new gig.

I think I'm getting sick despite the horse sized vitamin C's I usually take. Bleh.

Of Feline Discourse and Other Things

My cats do not love each other. I think my second cat, Molly, ranges from indifference to a mild desire to be friends with Guinness. He on the other hand, ranges from elder-statesman condescension/civility to outright bitchslapping. If they were to be equipped with Meowlinguals (which I would never allow them to be), I think it would go something like this:

(Untranslated conversation)
Guinness: "Murr."
Molly:"Mew-oo."

(Translated conversation)
Guinness: "Bitch."
Molly: "Asshole."

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The Bears thankfully didn't lose this weekend, since they didn't play this weekend. My alma mater, Illinois, further distinguished themselves a week after their 61-14 obliteration by Michigan State, by losing to Iowa 35-7. I feel somehow that this is all Barry Bonds' fault.

---

I assigned myself way too many knitting projects and have been knitting like your grandma on speed.

---

I'm going to visit my best friend for her birthday this weekend. She lives in Springfield. It will at least be nice to be together.

---

If you can have a Supreme Court Chief Justice who's been a judge for all of 45 minutes, I guess you can have a Justice who's never been a judge at all. I'm starting to think that the Supreme Court is like getting a job at the Gap - only you have to be one of Dubya's friends first.

These Dirty Whores Should Be Beat to a Pulp

People are fuckers.

No One is More Surprised Than Me

I am watching the Bears game. The Bears are currently engaged in wiping the Detroit Lions all over Soldier Field. They are scraping Detroit off their cleats and serving Lion pate on crackers. I think it's a combination of the Bears defense being hot, the Bears offense not sucking dirt, and Detroit doing a lot of things wrong.

One thing, I understand the Bears being jubilant and wanting to pound some more ass, because let's face it, pounding ass is a new feeling for us. Pummeling your opponent after the shitty run the Bears have had has to be so tasty and delicious that I bet these guys won't need dinner. But the game's almost over - lay off the pressure before someone valuable gets hurt. That is all. Otherwise, WHOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Edited to add: the Bears have won 38-6, which is the biggest margin of victory they've had since October 4, 1987. That means since DITKA. I don't want to get excited here but damn this feels good for once. No matter how brief it may turn out to be.

gross

What is with you assholes who can't flush after yourselves in public bathrooms? Seriously. WTF is your damn problem???

The Abnormal Growth (or My Knitting Has Spawned a New Blog)

I've updated my links to include my new blog for knitting, since my readership (all 5 of you) are mostly non-knitters and are likely bored when I post knitting mumbojumbo. So I'm stuffing everything knit-related in there, and will just be my usually curmudgeony self here.

Cheers,
D

In and Out and Back in Again

So I never watched the movie In and Out starring Kevin Kline. Just never got around to it. It happens to be on USA right now so after Law & Order SVU I decided to keep crocheting and not change the channel.

This movie is stuffed full of stupid cliche gay jokes - it's actually just stuffed full of plain stupid. Why did so many people like this movie? I found myself being grateful that we have come farther than this with respect to homosexuality - and then I remember Rick Santorum and the gozillion other gaybashing bigots in the world and realize we haven't come very far at all.

On the bright side, I forgot that a guy I went to high school with was in this movie. Aside from the coach who faked his own death to spur his team into victory, he's probably one of the most famous guys the school turned out.

Warm Up America

...is a pretty cool way to help out Katrina victims if you know how to knit or crochet. Warm Up America is an organization collecting anything you can knit/crochet. If you want to do a whole afghan on your own, excellent. Otherwise, you can knit or crochet 7in x 9in squares, which you can send on to them and they will join them into afghans to be given to Katrina victims. I've joined the blog Knit Katrina Squares - and sending my squares on to one of the people there who lives close to WUA headquarters and who is also joining contributed squares with help from some ladies at her church, I believe. Which is so excellent as my squares are ok (I did two this weekend) but my joining and finishing is unbelievable crap.

Please Keep the Positive Thoughts Coming

Side note:
I just want to say that The Sarchasm is doing a bang-up job on Katrina-related issues and commentary. Check it out, she's doing a much better job than I ever could on this topic.

The real reason for this post:
My friend's husband had surgery last week to remove tumors which turned out to be cancerous. He has a particularly complicated situation because of previous health issues, so he suffered some complications which are hopefully clearing up as we speak. And he starts chemo in a couple of weeks. Please send a prayer or otherwise positive thought if you can. Thanks.

Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel

"I'm not scared at all about being a rookie quarterback. I think I'm right where I need to be."
-Kyle Orton, starting QB for the Bears

Ok the NFL pre-season is over, and it's time for the Bears to suck at will. Actually, if this guy Orton can come through, we have a chance at a season that is not jam-packed with despair. Orton's right, I guess, in that if you are a rookie who wants to prove yourself, the place to do it is a team that does not have dick in the quarterback lineup. If you're not hurt, you're playing because we have no other farking choice but you. I'm not holding my breath though. But I will at least check out the first few games. September 11 v. Washington - let the mayhem begin.

Claustrophobic

I'm staying up late because HA! I'm on vacation. I'm watching Fatal Attraction on tv and I forgot how incredibly annoying this movie is. I mean, the plot's good I guess, but the Glenn Close and Michael Douglas characters make me suffocate. I'm practically breaking out in hives from her cloying psychotic dependency, and his encouraging it makes it worse. In fact, I consider him the bigger annoyance since she's obviously got the extenuating circumstance of severe mental issues. Sure, they're only movie characters, but you know there are real people out there like this. Maybe it's not their fault, maybe it is, but whatever the case, clingy people make me NUTS. I might have to take some benadryl to get through to the bathtub scene.

Couple of Things

My friend's husband's surgery is tomorrow, if anyone has extra good thoughts to spare for him, he could really use them. Thanks.

The horrors of Katrina keep piling up. It's really humbling and makes me appreciate what I have - family and friends and a roof over my head and dry ground under my feet.

I generally like the people around me but man do the asshats have a way of ruining things for the rest of us.

Asshats aside, I am starting vacation in one hour and for that, I am grateful.

You're Just Jealous Because the Voices Only Talk to Me

Katrina is a bitch. The misbegotten weather nightmare, not any specific person, so don't reply to this in outrage if you know and love a Katrina. I did know one Katrina once who was a bitch but I assume she's not indicative of all Katrinas. Anyhow, if you have been or know someone who has been affected by Katrina, I'm really sorry. What a farking mess. Horrible.

I came up with a new moniker for the pustulent evil scag in my office - Bizarro Visa - she's everywhere you don't want her to be.

I'm taking Thursday and Friday off, for which, thanks be to God and vacation accrual. Work sucks.

My latest get-rich novelty idea is knitted penis cozies. They would come in a limited size selection, since they would stretch. So far I have designs for candy cane, ,Rudolph the Red-Nosed Johnson, and Ribbed for YOUR Pleasure. (Candy cane could easily be adapted to sports teams and school colors) They will be knit from a soft acrylic yarn probably (ease of washing) unless you piss me off during the ordering process in which case yours will be knit from steel wool. No, I will not be taking custom measurements. Small sizes can be accomodated, and no one will laugh at them I promise. Even teeny weenies deserve to stay warm.

What's the Good Word?

Why is Scotch Blue Painter's Tape trying to convince me that painting my house is a kicky and flirty activity best done with my significant other? And why is painting your bathroom to resemble a pink jail cell at all sexy?

Here are the mittens and scarf that I recently completed for a birthday present. They don't look really good where the thumb meets the palm, but otherwise I am quite pleased with them.





Turns out my cousin is majoring in economics, not political science. She emailed me with some pictures - she is cute like button. I hope we don't scare her too much.

Last week I found out a friend's husband has cancer. I'm not sure what the details are (The word "cancer" tends to blur the details) but he is scheduled for surgery next week. If you could spare a prayer or a positive thought for him, it would sure be appreciated.

Last week at work I experienced an unusual concurrence of events in my appearance - good hair, cute outfit, shaved legs - all wasted on the people I work with. If for no other reason than that I need a new job.

Lucky Sevens (damn you LK, you know I can't resist these things)

7 Things you plan to do before you die.
1. Go to London, France, Germany, and Japan's Kansai Airport before it sinks
2. Write a book
3. Buy a hybrid car
4. Learn how to play the saxophone
5. Make a will
6. Attend a taping of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart
7. Make an asshole suffer

7 Things you can do.
1. Know when to hold em
2. Know when to fold em
3. Know when to walk away and
4. Know when to run

Just kidding.

1. Conduct minor surgery using only my razor wit
2. Knit
3. Clasp my hands behind my back so it looks like my back is praying
4. Assemble IKEA furniture with a minimum of swearing and leftover parts
5. Recall completely useless information like 80's music lyrics and why the anterior cruciate ligament and the medial collateral ligament are usually the ones affected in sports injuries
6. Make a Chicken Saltimboca that will kick your arse
7. Pick small items up with my toes

7 Things you can't do.
1. Tolerate assholes
2. Play the piano
3. The five point palm exploding heart technique
4. Code for the rest of my life
5. Spend any amount of time in Pat Robertson's immediate vicinity
6. Get my Karl Rove voodoo doll to work
7. Watch the Bears this season

7 Things that attract you to the opposite sex.
1. Sense of Humor
2. Honesty
3. Compassion
4. Intelligence
5. Face
6. Lack of mullet
7. Lack of Body Odor

7 Things you say most.
1. Dude
2. No
3. Sure why not?
4. Damn
5. Who's a stupid pooper?
6. Shut it.
7. It's all good.

7 Celebrity crushes.
1. Jon Stewart
2. Edward Norton
3. George Clooney
4. Ralph Fiennes
5. Don Cheadle
6. Jimmy Stewart (Hall of Fame)
7. Sean Connery (Hall of Fame)

7 People you want to take this quiz. Like 7 people even read this farking blog.

Nuts

I am going nuts. NUTS I TELL YOU. I need a vacation so bad. I really hope I can take some time off in September. Maybe at least I can take a couple of days off and make it an extra long Labor Day wkend. I need a break something fierce.

NOW I have seen everything

I just saw another Lee Iacocca Chrysler commercial. A Lee Iacocca Chrysler commercial with Snoop Dogg. SNOOP DOGG AND LEE IACOCCA. PLAYING GOLF. This is worse than Ice T producing David Hasselhoff's rap album.

What's Going On

I don't have much hope for this year's Bears. I need to start watching the games to see what this new guy Orton looks like, but with Rex Grossman injuring himself out of most of the season - again - I just don't know. I've seen no indication when he did play that he's a good enough quarterback to wait for while he recovers - again. Maybe I'll start watching IHL hockey again - I can only deal with so much sports misery in one year.

It turns out that I may have a houseguest around Christmas. One of my cousins, (my mom's youngest brother's daughter) who lives in South Korea, wants to come to the States for a year as kind of an English language immersion. From what I gather (Mom and Dad weren't positive on this one), she's studying political science/foreign affairs over there right now (she's a sophomore in college) Dad found out there's a program at College of Lake County where she can take some classes to work on English speaking and presentation. The point of her coming here wouldn't be to go to a prestigious school (obviously) but to really get immersed and get the hang of English conversation. So if it works out, she'll be staying with me, and since Mom and Dad are both retired they can drive her wherever she needs to go if I have to go to work or whatever. I think it should be interesting and just hope she doesn't think it'd be boring to live with an old fuddy-duddy like me. If she really is a poli sci major, it'd be interesting to hear her views on Korean government and society. And she could hang out and watch CNN in her free time ha ha. I'm seriously tempted to delete Fox News from my tv lineup if she is interested in keeping up with the news though.

A kind of odd thing happened this weekend. One of my friends im'ed me late Friday at work and said she wanted me to meet this guy she works with. She gave me a few details and I said sure, even if we don't hit it off, he sounds like he'd be a good friend and I love my guy friends. So she gave him my yahoo im. Saturday he im'ed me while I was out, and I replied when I got home. We spent 2 hrs on im, and then he asked if he could call me so we spent 3 more hrs on the phone at the end of which he asked if he could call me again. He thinks I'm really funny, which, duh. He seemed pretty nice and we have similar senses of humor. My friend said he's cute but I haven't seen for myself yet, and he evidently saw a really old unflattering picture of me, so we may not dig each other in person still. But it looks like I at least have me a new friend!

I'm working on the 2nd mitten for my quasifuture sister-in-law Kelly. I showed the first mitten to my mom and she said I did a REALLY good job which is really effusive praise coming from my mom. So that was a nice feeling. I hope she likes them - she's the type of person who's so nice she'd wear them even if she hated them, but it'd be nice if she actually liked them too.

Well that's all for me today, catch yous all later...

The Word You're Looking for is "....ANYWAY...."

Oh the weirdness.

The other night I had a dream that I was on a scavenger hunt with John Kerry. When I found the item we were looking for (I think it was a Wonder Woman picture), he hugged me. I was really uncomfortable, as most of you know I don't like being hugged and John Kerry doesn't exactly evoke warm fuzzy huggy feelings.

The next night I had a dream that I was helping federal agents capture Lindsay Lohan so she could be committed to a mental institution. Again, whaaaa????

My cat Guinness loves water. He loves eating grass and licking fruits that are really juicy, like watermelon. The other day I put a piece of watermelon in a dish for him to lick on. His delighted mewing immediately brought my other cat Molly on the scene, expecting delicious treats like, well, meat. I let her sniff a piece of the watermelon and she physically recoiled, hopping back a few steps and glaring at me with her "Bitch, what in the holy name of FOUL was that???"

Anaconda is on tv right now. I remember nothing about this movie except Jon Voight getting eaten and subsequently puked back up by an anaconda. Wow did JLo look bad in this movie. Her eyebrows are nearly plucked bald. Funny what a kojillion dollars will do for your look. It obviously gets you better eyebrows.

I was hoping to take a week off in Sept or Oct and just veg but it's possible that won't happen depending on what lands on my plate at work. I'm thinking about just leaving at Thanksgiving and coming back to work in 2006.

There was just a commercial on for Crayola Erasable markers and crayons. Personally I thought it was a good learning experience to have to try and incorporate a crayon oopsie into your drawings and have it make sense. Now kids won't have to learn to live with the consequences of oopsies, they just get to erase them. I'm probably overly paranoid thinking that this has something to do with the seeming decline of personal accountability in the younger generations, but maybe I'm not. Then again, if parents have to leave it to Crayola to teach their children about living with mistakes, things probably weren't going to turn out well anyway.

If the Cubs were Native Americans...

I have decided their name would be Sucks at Relief Pitching, or Strands Men on Base. What a terrible, ugly game. At least our seats were really good - 1st row of the upper deck, I think that's the best view I've ever had...the best view with which to view the carnage. Oh the carnage.

A Day of Crushes

I really am sad about Peter Jennings passing away. I had a crush on him in jr high or high school - maybe both. And I can't believe CNN has already dumped the story from its homepage - in favor of Man forgets wife at gas station. Horrible. I wonder if Fox News carried the story for more than 30 minutes. I do not want to bother finding out.

Today I also got to hear the 1st runner-up for my Lifetime Sweet Baboo title, but I kind of think that one is wearing off, maybe because he lives on another continent. My still-undisputed Champion Sweet Baboo at least lives in Texas. (For those of you reading this thinking "WTF kind of pills is she ON."..."Sweet Baboo" is a title I hand out to men I really like and respect who, for at least one reason (such as being married), I would never consider trying to get with. And no, not every married/otherwise unsuitable man gets this title, you need a little something special to get crowned "Sweet Baboo." Don't bother working for it, you are either born a sweet baboo or you aren't.

I just got done watching The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, which today included THREE of my major crushes - Ed Helms (shut up, LK), Jon Stewart, and the actor Paul Rudd. So much geeky snuggly pale white humor all in 22 minutes - the best 22 minutes of the day. Except for the 10 seconds of Bill Frist talking to Elmo. That was just weird.

Good Night, Peter

There goes the last of the decent news anchors. Sigh.

Where Do Horses Go When They Die?

I was having dinner with one of my best friends (my two best friends are sisters), and she was telling me she had talked to her sister Debbie (my other best friend).

Debbie apparently called Meeyun and put her on speakerphone. She then asked "Where do horses go when they die?"

Meeyun: "Is this a trick question?"

Debbie: "No. Where do horses go when they die?"

(As Meeyun is telling me this, I think "Heaven. After a stop at the glue factory")

Meeyun: "The glue factory???"

Sounds of Debbie's triumph and gloating at her husband issue forth over the phone line.

Evidently Debbie and her husband had been in the car, behind a horse trailer, and Eric was feeling bad about the horses being stuck in the trailer, when Deb said "It's better than heading for the glue factory," Eric had never heard of this before, so he and Deb had a brisk discussion over her statement's validity. (And yes, all of us do think Alpo in addition to glue factory)

So far the replies to my earlier post have dog food in first place, followed by glue factory (John also told me glue factory earlier) and then heaven. In any case, I hope that eventually horses do end up in heaven. I know a particularly annoying whore who loves horses and any horses she's had contact with certainly must deserve to go to heaven at the very least. And horses in general just seem to be cool and non-judgemental.

I Remember...

...when Grape-Nuts used to be harder (you were right, John). When I was little I lost a baby tooth on Grape-Nuts. I don't know why as a kid I even asked my mom for Grape-Nuts instead of the sugary goodness of Frosted Flakes or Captain Crunch. Probably because I was used to Nature Valley granola bars being my only source of "candy". Anyhoo, I had the tooth when I started the bowl and didn't have it when I finished it. Meaning I also ate the tooth. I know, ew. My mom recently bought some Grape-Nuts for herself and Pops, but they thought they were too hard and gave them to me. They are kind of tasty. But they are softer than they were back in the day.

Golden Palace

Did anyone else know that there was a spinoff of The Golden Girls sitcom called The Golden Palace? My tivo said it's from 1992. And did you further know that this Golden Palace sitcom co-starred Don Cheadle and Cheech Marin? I feel dirty now.

Lightning Round Blog

I'm wearing a tank top and forgot to shave the underarms this morning. I have a shrug/shawl on over it, but I am still very self-conscious.

Yesterday I woke up to Molly licking my butt. I don't know what her reasoning was.

I was so disappointed to come to the office today and hear the voices of people I dislike. A lot.

Why do people think it's ok to have loud discussions in a small shared area?

I'm going to the Cubs game next Tuesday - schweeeeeeet.

Where do horses go when they die? Post the first thing you think of in the comments.

I seriously need to clean the house.

Mean people suck.

Inconsiderate people suck.

I'm in the middle of knitting mittens for my quasi-future-sister-in-law and I don't think they will look good with her winter coat. LK tells me I'm crazy, but what does she know, her feet smell like provolone cheese. And the despair of the masses.

I really wish I had stayed home today.

Or that I had a big bagel with a schmear. I saw a show on food network about bagels and realized I haven't had one in ages.

I just poked my festively plump tummy and realized it does not need a big bagel with a schmear. Theoretically I should be able to live off my tummy insulation for months.

Moochies smoochies to everyone.
D

On Cats: Observations and Musings

I have had Guinness for over 4 years now, Molly for almost 2. These are the first pets I ever had (when your mother insists on keeping her house looking like no one has ever lived there, pets are never part of the equation)

In the beginning, I did not know what the hell I was doing with Guinness. I was going to go with Johnny and LK to look for a kitten to adopt. I went to Petsmart to pick up the necessary supplies that I'd need for when a kitty came home with me. That's when I saw the ARF (Animal Rescue Foundation) kitties that were for adoption there. I went in the cage room and nearly every cat got up and presented their butts to me and lay back down. I thought - "man, I KNEW cats were assholes!!!" I got to the end of the row, and this cat came to the front of the cage. Hmm. He let me pet his paw. HMM.

I left the room, thinking, well I need to take some time off to get a kitty used to me and I can't do that now. I looked back. Maybe I will just spend another minute with him. This happened two more times. The last time, I was stroking his paw, and he lay down in the cage and lay his head on top of my finger. DOH!!! I couldn't let him stay there. I put a hold on him and came back to get him the next day.

Well, the first day he was with me I spent lots of time yelling at him to get off things and squirting him with a water gun when he hopped on countertops. I seriously did not think this was going to work out at ALL. I sat on the couch watching him explore, when he jumped on the couch, put his paws on my shoulder and started purring. HMM??? No one told me that cats purring would be so cute. All right my good man, you may stay another day.

I bugged John and LK with a LOT of cat questions since I did not know dick when it came to taking care of them. It ranged from "He eats food, now what do I do?" all the way to "Can you believe the frigging beast ate a RUBBER BAND??? And it was hanging out his ASS???"

I picked up Molly in October 2003 from the Save-a-Pet shelter in Grayslake. They think she was about 7 months old. I thought maybe Guinness needed a pal. Hmph. To this day they oscillate between mad crazy wrestling to Iamgoingtolickyoutodeathbeeyotch. They mostly tolerate each other and spend their days in equal but separate worship of me.

If you told me 10 yrs ago I would have two cats and love them to death I would have laughed in your face. I was always more of a dog person but because of the apartments I lived in and my schedule, dogs were not an option. In my 4+ years of cat ownership, I have collected many observations and stories on cats, a few of which I share with you now.

---

It is damn near impossible for a cat to look dignified wearing a white plastic bag for a skirt. (For those of you about to bring the ASPCA on my ass, Guinness likes to burrow in plastic bags and then walk through the handle, where he gets stuck with a white plastic skirt.)

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Don't let your cats near rubber bands. Seriously. No, seriously. Guinness loves chewing rubber bands and dumb me left one out one time - a nice thick juicy one. I'm sitting in the living room and smell - GAAAAAAAAH!!! What IS that SMELL?????? Then it goes away. Comes back. I check the littermaid - nope, clean. Smell comes back again. I eventually connect that the smell is coinciding with the peregrinations of Guinness in and out of the living room. I take a close look at him - whatWHATWHAT????

A thick juicy rubber band is hanging out my cat's ASS. I scream and run in circles till I bump into a roll of paper towels. I grab about six and make myself a Bounty baseball mitt, with which I grab rubber band and yank out. Guinness yelped. Now I'm envisioning internal mayhem caused by the rubber band so call my vet. I hear loud laughter in the background, then vet comes to the phone "SO kitty ate a rubber band huh?" Guinness turned out to be fine, but you better believe I have never left out a rubber band after that.

---

This morning my little girl cat was wailing downstairs. I called to her and she eventually trotted on up and hopped on the bed, where she proceeded to lick my hand and noodge me wanting me to scratch her head. Then I farted on her. Then I felt a cold wet little nose in my butt crack and then a tiny claw in my butt. And here I thought she was dumb. She knew exactly where that nastiness was coming from.

---

Cats will not bring you cold medicine or Tylenol. No matter how much you cajole, threaten, beg, or cry.

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You can have a vast expense of comfortable (ok maybe not luxurious, but still comfortable) carpet, and one tiny cash register receipt on the carpet, and the cat will invariably cozy up on the receipt.

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Unless you are lying down reading a book, in which case, the cat will ignore the expanse of carpet or sofa or bed around you, and come lie down directly on your book. It's their way of letting you know you are their bitch.

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Cats know the sound of a can's seal being broken. If you are opening a can and it is not full of Fancy Feast Seafood Feast, you better have a damn good excuse to give to the yowling at your feet.

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Cats love it when you put a sticker off something (like a CD seal or a sticker off a banana) and stick it on their backs right above their tails. Well, they don't actually LOVE it, they kind of hate it but I love seeing the paroxysms they go through to get the demon sticker off them.

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A purring cat is a remarkable antidote to a sucky day.

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"Kitty flapjack" is played using a bed, a cat, and a sheet or a comforter that the cat is lying on. Yank the sheet or comforter straight out from under the cat and let the good times roll.

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For those of you rotten bastards who thought I was going to propose "kitty flapjack" as an actual food item, FOR SHAME.

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The highest you think your young cat can jump is half the actual distance they can jump. So when you don't look on top of the cabinets or the fridge for them, that is just your own stupidity.

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John HAS said "oochie goo" to their cat Penny, but he won't admit it.

Well my computer is done backing up, so it's back to the grind for me
Moochie smoochie,
D

Accomplishments and Annoyances

Welcome to my stream of consciousness.

Why do I doubt that Tag Body Spray for Men actually makes women's blouses pop open? I really think that's more due to shoddy manufacturing (Nothing against the poor sweatshop kids, it's impossible to produce haute couture when making shirts for 20 hours a day at a penny a shirt)

My dog is Tom Cruise. This piece is delightful, although I do think it insults dogs. Scientologists, I can still hear Tom Cruise talking. I distinctly recall politely asking you to do something about that. I was flipping channels this weekend and came across Jerry Maguire. I realized that I was able to stomach most of this movie because Tom Cruise in the role of smarmy clueless asshole really clicks for me. It's just so natural. Although the movie sucked in that you never believe that his character and Renee Zellweger's really fell in love. Oh let's get married, oh let's break up, oh let's spend 14 minutes apart and realize that we really ARE in love so Tom Cruise can deliver a crappy teary monologue only to be interrupted by Renee Zellweger admitting that she's easy. Whatever.

I knitted a lace scarf for my friend Brenda's birthday. Yes sports fans, I can do lace. Sort of. It's a pain in the butt though - I might do one for my mom for Christmas, kind of like a table runner thing, but I don't think I'll do those too often. Especially not in the face of 8 (or is it 10?) birthdays I have to handle in the Sept-Dec timeframe. BEFORE Christmas.

Queen of the Universe's blog spurred me into finishing Life of Pi which I bought many moons ago and never finished. It started off good, but kind of slow, so I got distracted, but it gets really good in the second half, in my opinion. The sheer extent and detail of the author's (Yann Martel) imagination is just dazzling. Sometimes depressing and horrifying, but dazzling. I have a couple of depressing books on the Rwandan genocide to work on now, including A Sunday by the Pool in Kigali.

I REALLY want to see March of the Penguins. I don't know why but I am just a sucker for penguins. (For anyone who wants to theorize that it's my subconscious desire to be surrounded by tuxedo-clad creatures - like I would be at say, my wedding - I'm here to tell you...hmm, maybe. But I doubt it. And if I marry someone who actually walks like a penguin, he will need to have a lot of other redeeming characteristics.)

I discovered during the Daily Show's interview with Sen. Rick Santorum, that I actually have something in common with the junior Republican senator from Pennsylvania. And no, it's not a secret desire for hot anal action. It seems he's written a book called It Takes a Family (super original title by the way, Ricky) and his take-home message is that personal accountability and learning of virtue starts at home. The family has the first and strongest influence on teaching a child right from wrong. Bravo!!! Excellent!!! TWO THUMBS WAY UP!!!

However, he went on to say that it is thus government's duty to protect the best, most ideal structure of family, which of course is man + woman = good babbies. Jon Stewart asked something along the lines of - would it not be better for a committed, loving, homosexual couple or a single parent who don't have an intimate relationship with cocaine to raise a child rather than say, an alcoholic or otherwise abusive heterosexual couple? Santorum sputtered (ain't THAT a visual by the way - Santorum sputtering) that this was comparing best case vs. worst case. Um, yeah? So? Those best and worst cases DO HAPPEN. OFTEN. Also I noticed that Sen. Santorum's face is unusually smooth and hairless, as though he had laser hair removal. Or he's a FemBot.

Well, it's off to bed for me, I have to get up and listen to my second-most sweet baboo-ey of sweet baboo's tomorrow first thing in the morning.

Toodles!

D

My Eyes on John (Or Pacifying a Blog-Challenged Crybaby)

My friend John who replied to my previous questionnaire insisted I answer the questions for him even though he no longer has a blog of his own because as he puts it, he needs "luv"

My Answers for John
1. Who are you? Pharaoh. And don't forget it.
2. Are we friends? As much as a white man and asian woman can be friends without a contract and monetary compensation.
3. When and how did we meet? At Maestro Commerce when I was hired. The mook didn't even stand up to greet me.
4. Do you have a crush on me? No.
5. Would you kiss me? No.
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. Mook.
7. Describe me in one word. Mook.
8. What was your first impression? EVERYONE here scares me. I want my mommy.
9. Do you still think that way about me now? Only when the wafro is particularly belligerent.
10. What reminds you of me? Fried chicken, butter, and farts
11. If you could give me anything what would it be? Fried chicken for life
12. How well do you know me? Just as well as I want to, and NO MORE.
13. When's the last time you saw me? When we saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and John gave his chicken and gnocchi to complete strangers
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't? No, I don't want to anger the CIA. But I'm sure Karl Rove will eventually tell John for me.
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you? No.

All Eyes on ME

Stolen from the Sarchasm and Cillic Braindump, here are the questions, do what you will

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When's the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

Stand Back If You Don't Want Any On You

waaaah.

waaaaaaaaaaaah.

WAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAH (boom boom boom boom boom boom)

Yes it's true I'm back from the blogging netherworld. I'm not sure right now what I'll have to say, but I can almost guarantee it won't be worth the wait.

Not much has been going on with me. As far as knitting accomplishments go, I think I can knit a mitten. That is to say I'm about halfway through a mitten for my quasi-almost-sister-in-law Kelly, but I think it will be too small so I'm going to start over. It just fits my hand and she's taller than me so I expect her hands are longer and might be bigger. Other than that I've started working on knit presents for the upcoming barrage of autumn/winter birthdays and Christmas. If you don't want a knit present from me this year, go find another friend. Just kidding. Not really though.

Hard to think about autumn and winter when it is a screeching 100 degrees out today. I have seen a mama cat and her two kittens periodically in my backyard - they come back because I put food out for them - and I hope they've found a cool spot to hang out today. I think they are roosting in the wooded area across the street so at least they'll have shade. I've called a local trap/spay/release organization, but I think I might have erased a message from them last week (mistaken for a telemarketing call). Not sure yet how I'll catch them - I don't want to catch mama without her kittens or vice versa.

My parents are both retired now - Dad just retired June 30. While I'm happy for them, one of them must get a job or they will end up killing each other. And/or me. Last weekend, Mom said she was going to buy me a couple of metal stands and some hanging plants to hang from them for my front door and back patio. Monday morning I'm working at home and on a conference call when the doorbell rings loudly and repeatedly. I open the door (thank God for mute) and tell my dad I'm on the phone. He gives me the thumbs up and proceeds to install the plant stands (they're the kind that are just a metal pole with a curve at the top and and a hook at the end to hang the plant off of)

The next day, I'm cooking lunch and I hear noises in the garage. I freak out thinking an animal's gotten in or something. No, just turns out to be my parents again - Mom's lining up my shoes by a storage rack and Dad's cleaning the porch cement where fertilizer from my potted flowers has left stains. Seriously, they must find something to occupy their time other than my house.

I about fell down when I saw Lee Iacocca in the Chrysler commercials (and George Costanza alongside him) I didn't even know that cat was still alive. According to Wikipedia he's 81. Looks pretty ok for 81, in my opinion. George Costanza's gotten old though (and I don't mean Jason Alexander's age in years)

I saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - just stupendous. I want it on DVD right now. Johnny Depp is frigging brilliant as Willy Wonka. The little kid who plays Charlie is wonderful - he's practically luminescent. I nearly did a jig in the theatre when he found the Golden Ticket. I do have to rent Finding Neverland to see these two in action together again. But I kind of wish people would stop comparing this film (Charlie & the CC) with the original. In my opinion, both are great for different reasons, and I don't think either film's greatness takes away from the other.

Just when I'm convinced my baby girl cat, Molly, is dumber than the cardboard box I brought her home in. she proves me wrong. I have one of those little laser light toys that she loves more than she loves me (which seeing as how she sniffs and nibbles on my feet like they are Callebaut chocolates, I assume her love for me knows no bounds). Anyway, I haven't brought it out for a few weeks, and usually we play with it upstairs. Today I took it off the tv downstairs and the jingle of the keychain evoked a huge "MEEEW?" from Molly, who then proceeded to look around for the light of the Laser Angels which she knew would shortly arrive. Guinness lost interest in the thing a long time ago once he figured out that the source of the light was me and not Satan's minions whom he hoped to vanquish. Molly knows where the light comes from and DEMANDS the light thingie produce more Laser Angel goodness when it stops.

My quasi-nephew Alex had his first birthday party last week. He smeared the cake all over his 10-yr old Uncle Michael. He also got into the frozen hard lemonade that his mom put down for 3 seconds. Those crazy Irish. Steve (his dad) has also taught Alex that when Steve holds out his arm and opens/closes his hand, Alex brings him the remote. I wish I could teach my cats to do that.

I kind of want to get a copy of L.Ron Hubbard's Dianetics, but I really do not want to leave a trail of vitamins to my door for Scientologists to come and bug the crap out of me. Anyway, I don't want to cast aspersions on anyone's religion. If you want to believe that Earth was seeded by aliens who look like John Travolta in the worst dreads ever seen on a white man (and considering all dreads on white men suck, that's really scraping the bottom of the barrel), that's totally ok with me. Just don't try and force your religion on me, and we'll get along fine. Oh, and if you could shove Tom Cruise's head a little farther up his own ass, that'd be great. Because we can still hear him talk, and I don't like that.

Speaking of not shoving your religion on others, I'd really like to start my own religion called We'reAllHumanBeingsAndYou'reNotOneFarkingBitBetterThanAnyone
ElseSoShutYourProselytizingYapology. I can't imagine what the signs for the churches will cost me though.

I need a lotto revival. If you find one, please let me know. Until then it's back to the grind.

Cheers,
D

George Lucas IS a Completely Useless Writer

I just saw some show on VH1 called When Star Wars Ruled the Earth. They discussed the only good bit of dialogue I was willing to credit to George Lucas ("I love you." "I know." Enter carbonite!) Turns out the scene was originally written "I love you." "I love you too." and Harrison Ford was the one to suggest to Irvin Kershner that Han Solo wouldn't be such a limp cheesedick in the moment and thought they should change the line to "I know." And so is flushed the last bit of credit I was willing to give Lucas. Too bad Natalie Portman and Hayden Christiansen (or anyone with talent) couldn't have stood up to Lucas enough to save Episode II or make Episode III what it could have been.

Edited to add: They also showed Harrison Ford commenting that he didn't think Return of the Jedi "had a very successful ending, with a teddy bear picnic" Why couldn't he have been in charge of Episodes I-III???

Also, they just showed "Superfans" and their Star Wars-themed WEDDINGS. One bride actually had the nerve (or complete loss of touch with reality) to say "I didn't want to go for the typical goober Star Wars wedding" Excuse me?!?!?!? You have Yoda as your ring-bearer and Stormtroopers as your groomsmen. What other type of Star Wars wedding IS THERE???

Bring the Funk

I have been in this weird funk lately. I don't think I'm actively unhappy, it's just that I seem to be realizing/remembering a lot of things in my life that I wish were different. Like my job. And maybe my ass.

Deep Throat Revealed!!! And not ugly 70's porn either. This holds particular sentiment for me since my parents didn't know I had learned to read until I picked up the newspaper and started reading bits about Nixon. What kind of parents don't know when their kid is learning to read, you ask? The kind of parents who will tell their kid that Sesame Street doesn't come in on the big new color tv and the kid will have to go watch it on the crappy black and white tv upstairs. And you wonder how I turned out as supahstah cool as I have.

Last night, perhaps in a subconscious desire to punish myself for imbalances in my life, I decided to sit through the movie Hannibal which was on USA. Now, I read the book when it first came out, and it was seven different shades of Jaded Self-Important Atrocious Crap. If you for some reason need to punish yourself by reading this book and don't want to know what happens, stop here. But the rest of you know (or don't care) that Thomas Harris basically phoned in 400 pages of dead boredom, and finished it off by having Lecter and Clarice dine happily on Krendler's brain, and then go travelling the world over shagging like bunnies. The movie was actually better than the book in that respect, but it still sucked BALLS. I might have to watch Silence of the Lambs and Red Dragon tonight to cleanse my palate and make the awful go away.

I know you didn't miss the latest Old Navy skirts commercial, set to the fly tones of Superfreak. I just know the poor man is screaming even while spinning in his grave, "I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH!"

I don't really like to insult the viewpoints and opinions of another culture, but come on, Germany has to see my point of view while watching the footage of the Berlin Wall coming down - "this is GREAT...wow what a momentous occasion...what the hell is KNIGHT RIDER doing at the Berlin Wall?!??!?!?!?"

I know I have more to tell but for right now I'm tapped. Thank every power that be that it's Friday.

Stonehenge of the Pith (or No Actor Should Be Judged in the Context of Bad George Lucas Dialogue)

Stone·henge ( P ) Pronunciation Key (stnhnj)
A group of standing stones on Salisbury Plain in southern England. Dating to c. 2000-1800 B.C., the megaliths are enclosed by a circular ditch and embankment that may date to c. 2800. The arrangement of the stones suggests that Stonehenge was used as a religious center and also as an astronomical observatory.

pith ( P ) Pronunciation Key (pth)
tr.v. pithed, pith·ing, piths
To sever or destroy the spinal cord of, usually by inserting a needle into the vertebral canal.

I went to see Revenge of the Sith last week with Johnny and Laura. If you don't want to know what happens, stop reading.

I mean it.

Ok but don't come crying to me saying I spoiled it for you.

Episode III was much much better than Episodes I or II. But, that's a little like saying influenza is much much better than Ebola. You really have to judge it on an entirely different scale, where "excellent" is not physically possible.

And this is because George Lucas is a bad writer. He cannot write love/emotional scenes to save his life. (Best Star Wars love scene - "I love you." "I know." Here comes the carbonite!!! Even this was probably a save from Larry Kasdan) This is truly a shame, because Revenge of the Sith could have been a much more interesting and compelling movie if you actually believed that Anakin and Padme really loved each other. As it stands, Anakin's surrender to the Dark Side comes off like the act of a whiny bitch who would rather look for a magic cure-all than truly fight for what he knows is the right thing to do. By the time Anakin gets his (and a little credit to good choreography and special effects, he does get it in spectacular fashion) my only thought was "Good, you little asshole, now get that Vader mask on so I don't have to see you crying anymore."

This was an enjoyable movie (especially since John, Laura or I - can't remember who - called a "KHAAAAAAAAAANNN!!!" moment - and whoever it was, was right) - enough so that it made me really mad that it could have been really excellent had it not been for the horrible script. The dialogue is so flat and uninteresting that I could not sympathize with any of the characters no matter how much I wanted to. When the most evocative character is R2D2, something is wrong with the writing. I read about people panning Hayden Christiansen, Natalie Portman, and Ewan MacGregor for their performances, but I maintain that it is impossible to be a good actor with George Lucas dialogue. When life hands you chicken, you can make chicken shit or chicken salad, but come on, what the hell are you supposed to do when George Lucas hands you chicken shit?

George Lucas is a bad writer, and he has made a bozillion dollars...by telling stories. It is one of the great inexplicable injustices of our time - right up there with GWB running the country and Tron not receiving any Academy Awards. But at least this particular injustice (I hope) has come to an end.

Cheers,
D

Oops (Or, They Say It Was Your Birthday)

While plowing through a backlog of unread emails in my hotmail account, I came across a birthday reminder for one Dr. Cowboy Joe Filkins. (who is second runner-up for being the Undisputed Sweet Baboo of My Life) It was Tuesday, May 10. Heh heh. Ooops.

So in honor of one of Dr. Filkins' favorite media, caustic haiku, I offer this in repentance and regret.

I am a loser
I forgot your birthday, Joe
You forgot mine too.

Huh. Amazing what your stream of consciousness speaking through haiku will remind you of. To the best of my memory, Cowboy Joe wrote me no poetry for my birthday. I don't feel bad anymore. And now you're third runner-up in the Sweet Baboo of My Life contest. You better be prepared to put up one HELL of a showing in the swimsuit competition to regain your standing.

Grandma Always Said "Don't Stick Your Hands in the Crazy"

I don't have any specific events to write about, so welcome to my stream of consciousness.

Old Navy shows no signs of repentance. A bathing suit commercial that ruins the Go-Go's "Our Lips Are Sealed"??? Wrong on SO MANY levels. Old Navy makes me fear for the future of our country, almost (but not quite) more than snot-nosed cell-phone-toting hooker teenagers.

I really wish concubines were legal. And that I would possibly have a shot in hell with Jon Stewart if they were. Or the snarky doc from Scrubs. Actually I don't know that the snarky doc is married. Maybe I should concentrate my efforts there. Seeing as how dudes kissing has the nation's fruit-of-the-looms in a twist, I probably shouldn't hold my breath hoping a petite Jewish entertainer can get him some hot harem action. And that I will be anywhere near the top of the waiting list.

Men should not ever wear ruffled shirts.

I sense Adam Sandler may be going the way of Eddie Murphy (on a much reduced scale of course) His latest movie appears to be about his organizing a prison football team (where he is an inmate) and the madcap high jinks that ensue. When I saw this commercial, had my expression gotten any flatter, my face would have gone concave.

Sometimes you just have to close your windows and yell at the top of your lungs (or the middle of your lungs if you live in a duplex) - "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!" Your cats will eventually come out from under the couches.

Renee Zellweger got married to some country music star after dating for 4 months. Thanks to celebrities, I never have to lose hope for my own marital aspirations. If it can happen for rich people, surely it can happen for me. That's what GWB tells me anyway.

Ok off to bed for me.
Toodles,
D

Behold the Awesome Power of the Mullet

I MUST have this.

My New Floor!

I'll blog more later, I promise, but just putting up pics of my slippery new laminate flooring that replaced the junko carpet my house came with...

Blogged Down

So this morning, I'm driving to work, and I see a Chevy Suburban type vehicle in front of me, with detailing on the back that resembled this: (please excuse the crappy artwork on my part)


See the white lines? Yeah that's what I thought too. Never again will I berate a man for being fascinated by the sight of a thong. If the car hadn't turned right away, I might have followed them wherever they were going, I was that mesmerized.

Not much is going on with me. I work, I knit, I converse with friends. Next Monday I am getting my new laminate flooring installed which I am quite excited about. Cats, feel free to puke at will on this floor - I shall wipe it up with a smile. But this weekend will suck balls for me as I'll be moving furniture.

My good friend LK and I had a conversation that worked its way around to talking meat pants. Don't ask.

Laura Kehoe: meat pants
Donna Lee: god that's a mouthful ain't it (speaking of John's nickname Pantalones de la Carne)
Donna Lee: literally and figuratively
Laura Kehoe: no wonder they talk so fast
Laura Kehoe: they have more words to say the same thing
Donna Lee: oh i thought you meant meat pants talk fast?
Laura Kehoe: you made me spit my water
Laura Kehoe: I think I'm getting loopy... but I thought of talking meat pants
Donna Lee: them is some fast-talkin meat pants
Laura Kehoe: i need a drink
Donna Lee: i'm seeing chaps made of pepperoni singing "Home on the Range"
Laura Kehoe: what about chaps made of thinly sliced roast beef?
Laura Kehoe: talking meat pants still has me laughing
Donna Lee: i see roast beef as more of a boxer material
Donna Lee: chaps need to be sturdier
Laura Kehoe: true
Laura Kehoe: like genoa salami
Laura Kehoe: a true spaghetti western
Donna Lee: now i see a line of roast beef boxers singing "It's Raining Men"
Laura Kehoe: dude, you're fucked up

I can't help it that I have a vivid imagination. I once had a dream that George Clooney and Jimmy Stewart were fighting over me. Using Jello and ball-point pens.

[Jimmy Stewart to George Clooney, as he fences with GC using a Bic pen] - "You're crazy, Clooney, you're, you're just SCREWY!!!"

Don't ask me why, I don't make the rules.

I work with a very kind European who has a very soothing voice. Soothing to the point that if I listen to him for more than 5 minutes, I am lulled into a state of comfort. And by comfort, I mean semi-consciousness. And by semi-consciousness, I mean sleep. I'm wondering if it's illegal to tape a phone call with him and use it for when I have insomnia. One night, I couldn't fall asleep, and when I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt that I still couldn't fall asleep, so I called him and asked if he would be kind enough to read War and Peace to me over the phone so I could sleep. (I'm hoping it really was a dream - if I actually did call him and ask him this, he's been tactful enough not to mention it to me)

I saw my best friend this weekend. She told me she's in a wedding and she doesn't know the bride's last name. To her credit, she and her husband are much closer to the groom than the bride, but damn.

Well, that's all the news that's fit to blog for me so far this week.

With peace, good will, and car thongs,
Donna

OK That is IT

Whoever creates the advertising campaigns for Old Navy MUST. DIE. IMMEDIATELY.

It wasn't bad enough to besmirch my fond memories of junior high and set Bermuda shorts to the soundtrack of "Fame".

NOW they have perky girls in ugly shirts mutilating the theme of my prom, Young MC's "Bust A Move".

THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.
DIE OLD NAVY.
DIE.

p.s. in a totally unrelated point, I'm watching "Scrubs" and the snarky doc came out without his shirt on. Puuuurrrrr. Smart, snarky, and slammin' abs. Yum.

Am I the Entertainer?

For anyone reading this who doesn't know me (and I can't imagine who you might be) I am a happily single 33-yr old female who's got a steady job (well "steady" in these uncertain times anyway) and my own car and house. Obviously I haven't met the right guy, and I'm not about to conduct experiments in self-punishment in order to be with just any guy and pay my dues to couplehood.

I've always thought my requirements for a partner to be simple (perhaps deceptively simple) - he has to make me happy, and he has to make me laugh. There's TONS of guys out there who could make me laugh, but none would make me happy in the long run, and probably a lot of perfectly wonderful nice guys who might make me happy but wouldn't make me laugh. (Which I realize, is part of being happy)

Quite a few recent random thoughts and observations into my life make me wonder though. Am I expecting too much to ask that my partner be the entertainer in the relationship? The general trend I notice when I am with friends, is that I am the one making others laugh. My friends are funny, sure, but it's not often they get the big belly laugh out of me, which I guess I always expected that a partner of mine would be able to make me do. If I'm the one making my friends laugh, should I also be the one to make That Special Someone laugh, instead of the other way around? I mean, let's be honest, it's fun to be funny. I delight in making my friends laugh. I love seeing my friends send me whatever flavor of rollingonthefloorlaughing emoticon they currently use.

I find myself sometimes attracted to men who I know won't make me laugh, and I usually end up dismissing them because I feel they're too nice for me, and they won't entertain me. But usually I'm not attracted to men who can entertain me. Where's the balance? At what point do I make the trade-off? Or should I just take the first man who sits patiently through my attempts to remember and sing the theme song to Magnum P.I. - or better yet, remembers it and sings it for me so we can sing it together? (I can't imagine there are too many of those)

Beauty fades, money gets spent, but the theme to "Diff'rent Strokes" is forever.

Random Wishes for DeLayed Justice

Hi, thanks for coming back. Here we go.


The other day I was driving behind a mini-van, which had a window sticker from my high school. Then I noticed the license plate frame said "Northwestern Wildcats" which made the purple pawprint window sticker in the other corner of the rear window make more sense.

Then I noticed the entire mini-van was purple.

And I thought my Illinois wallpaper on my cell phone was lame.

"That's all right, that's ok, you're gonna work for us someday!" I bet the driver of that van sings that in his/her sleep.
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If there's anyone in the free world that I wish a "Money's on the dresser, Chocolate" moment on, it's House Majority Leader Tom DeLay. What a frigging Cornelia Unt. I think he's suckier than Bush and on the road to being suckier than Karl Rove. But people in his own party are turning against him, or at least not totally turning a blind eye to his shenanigans. (And believe me, a blind eye is easy to get when you've just had a load of Santorum spewed in your face) I don't dare to hope for too much, but I might have more faith in mankind if the Republicans bitchslapped him. Ok, no I wouldn't. But it'd be pretty sweet.
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This weekend, I went where no knitter has gone before. Ok, where I as a knitter have never gone before.

I. KNIT. A. HAT.

It's true! I knit something that was not a variant of a rectangle!!! Granted, it's a baby hat that looks like a cute fuzzy baby blue half-rolled condom with the reservoir pulled WAAAAY out. Meg would be proud. But I can knit hats now and that's all that matters. I am going to knit a bright blue one with a red stripe and tail at the top for my quasinephew Alex so that he may be properly protected against the insidious influence of his Sox-lovin' mom.
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Whoever the hell it was who went to the Cubs' home-opener and jinxed them, thanks a whole hell of a lot.
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I really hope the Wal-Marts in Germany are less gross than the Wal-Marts here. I really don't see the Wal-Marts here as somewhere to go pick up a man. However, I might be convinced to do it just for the wealth of blogging material I would get. As I am naturally a psycho freak magnet, I can't imagine what my yield would be if I purposely made myself a target for the local talent at Wal-Mart.
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The Common Cold or the Germination of Insanity

I think I am getting sick. I couldn't wake up today, and now I'm a bit achy, my head feels heavy - like Orca-heavy - and my throat is itchy. I sincerely hope this is the reason for the constant loop running through my head which alternates between the theme song from The Benny Hill Show and the theme song from Benson. If it's not due to impending illness then I might could be losing it for good.

Thanks for a Great Run, Illinois

I want it on record that the Illini's loss to UNC last night was not my fault. I did not even let the Tivo guide hover over Channel 2 at any time during the evening. Since I have been so deathly afraid to watch any games for fear of my awesome influence on sporting events running amok*, I cannot comment on their performance, but hey they got to the championship game for the first time ever for Illinois so they must not suck. Seriously, thanks to Bruce Weber and the Illini for a great run. And thanks to Michigan State for knocking out Duke. Because Duke sucks.

Go Cubs!!!

*For those of you who don't know, I have made deals with the Almighty in the past in attempts to influence the outcome of major sporting events, and they seem to be successful as long as the outcome benefits many people and my own team is not involved.

Incident #1 - In the 2002 World Series, Anaheim vs San Francisco, I promised God I would back Ohio State football the rest of the year, if Barry Bonds lost the Series. As millions of people across the country hate Barry Bonds, this outcome benefited many and I got my wish and held up my end of the deal proudly, ignoring the scorn of my fellow Illinois alumnae.

Incident #2 - Same as above, substitute 2004, Yankees, Red Sox, and Michigan. Millions hate the Yankees, got my wish again, and jumped on board the Michigan bandwagon. However, since I qualified "for the rest of the year", I did not have to root for them in the Rose Bowl which was January 1 of this year.

Incident #3 - Well, I didn't make any specific deals, but I did hope really hard for the Vikings to lose in the playoffs last year, because Randy Moss is such a bitch. I'll be doing the same thing for the Raiders this year.