Y'know, when I started this thing, I thought, "I'm going to be a dedicated poster! I'm going to keep everyone updated!" So innocent was I. Honestly, the only reason I'm posting now is because I'm on call for SART and HAVE to stay up until ONE AM, which for a working stiff like myself is akin to Chinese water torture. I was tired at 9pm and really ready for bed at 11:30pm, but after internet games, reading EW and going through some catalogs, I'm almost there. Just thought I'd kill the last few minutes by listing some of the things I've been doing instead of posting to tide everyone over until summer when maybe I'll be settled in enough to goof off. But, don't count on it.
Got the chance to be a model for a friend's book about girly knit things. It was a monster slumber party in a school in Kansas and I happened to pass through Lawrence on the way home so I got to see the newly engaged Miss Tyra and her puppy, ring, house, and boy, not necessarily in that order. Plus, I think I ate some bad string cheese on the exceptionally long drive home, but that event will never be referred to as an "incident" because that would be too ridiculous...and too dirty hippie.
I missed the Magic Smoking Monkey show. Yep. Call me "bitch". Out of town, house repairs, previous commitments, and a general feeling of poordom all contributed to me being the worst Monkey ever. I hang my head in shame as I'm sure it was hilarious and fun. Bad OAA.
I fell off a ladder. Well, actually, I fell off a ladder in the living room and cracked my spine/C5/hard head on an end table. Perhaps it was universal retribution for missing the play? We'll never know. But, if any "Reefer" cast member would like to smack my giant thigh bruise or karate chop the back of my neck as some sort of karmic payback, just let me know. (These are limited time offers. I'm not going to let Wassilak talk me into bruising myself just so he can even the score.)
I really am not a fan of Imo's pizza. Perhaps Henry is right and it's all based on meat being on the pie, but it honestly isn't all that good. The sauce is blah, the cheese is sticky, and the crust is flavorless. The only good thing about it is slathering it in their sugary dressing.
Mr. Henry continues to make exceptional strides in the home improvement arenas. I continue to fail and fall victim to gravity. I did paint the ceiling (which is a lot harder that is sounds) and one wall, but that's pretty weak considering that took me all of the holiday weekend.
I have a new black RAZR, or however they fake spell it, and I already miss my old phone. This one does too much for my techophobic self. And the font? It sucks. All this technology and we couldn't get a decent Helvetica or something in there? But it is pretty looking even the address book is confounding.
And the holiday. What a joke that is. I am not a Thanksgiving fan as it seems too prejudiced and forced. Native Americans are still beat-down indigenous people and instead of cooking a giant bird, perhaps we should just donate that money to the Adopt an Elder program or something. Honestly, we're all just going to get together in a month for exactly the same thing, why not save it? At least then there's presents to gawk at and coo over. Thanksgiving is the invention of turkey farmers and I'm a vegetarian, but, it's always nice to see the family, even if they're sleepy, arthritic, and game-playing resistant. And just think, last year we were freezing in Florida and blowing our dosh at the outlet mall (but WHAT an outlet mall!).
One o'clock and all's well.
Goodnight, gentle reader.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Progress, She is Like the Tortoise
If I could have flamethrowered the interior of this house I bought, I would have. But, progress takes time. It took time for the floors to be done wrong, it took time for us to learn that the tile is not coming off the bathroom wall unless someone jackhammers it off, and naturally, it takes time for a kitchen to be rebuilt from the ground up. But today, a hurdle was leapt. We have cabinets installed. Sure, they have the wrong door style and there's parts missing, but the big part - the box part - is there and I can start painting them tomorrow. Yeah. Jackasses we are, we decided it would be nice to have grey and white cabinets which are not that common. So, to preserve us from the melamine blahs, we ordered unfinished and will paint. And so it goes.
Slowly.
Slowly.
Arrest Me, FOX
"Arrested Development"'s been cut back to 13 episodes.
Does no one out there have grey matter in their craniums? Honestly, I know I've been the proponent of underdog shows before, but this one is the most accessible of them all. "Twin Peaks"? C'mon. I know damn well you had to start watching that thing from the beginning in order to understand it. And I've watched in marathon and STILL don't understand parts (Josie as drawer pull? What?), but I love all its wackiness and its creation of its own little world. "The X-Files"? I harped on that show to the point where people started asking me to not talk about it before I even got started. And it was huge. "ALIAS"? Sure I haven't watched on this season, but for a good 3 seasons, that was my show. And now, my sweet mai tai of comedy, "Arrested Development" is being killed before my eyes. In tribute, I thought I'd make a list of shows available to those of you who might be seeking something less hilarious, tautly written, worse acted, and less interesting. Y'know, so we can keep the trend alive.
"King of Queens"
"The Bachelor"
"E.R."
"Hope & Faith"
"Hot Properties"
That thing with Freddie Prinze Jr. who couldn't act his way out of a wet paper bag that came with explicit, point-by-point lessons and had signs illustrating them in pictograms lining the bag walls
"Dancing With The Stars" (god help us)
"Law & Order: SVU, CPU, UPN, LMNOP, Criminal Intent, and Decaf"
"Survivor"
"Surface/Threshold/Invasion"
"Two and a Half Men"
"The Apprentice" whoever's firing
My god "JOEY"'s still on for chrissakes!!!???!!!
"Crossing Jordan", also a shocker it's not been cancelled. Honestly.
"Will & Grace". Please.
So think about it, darlings, and send FOX a sweet letter telling them their taste is much better than their competitors.
Does no one out there have grey matter in their craniums? Honestly, I know I've been the proponent of underdog shows before, but this one is the most accessible of them all. "Twin Peaks"? C'mon. I know damn well you had to start watching that thing from the beginning in order to understand it. And I've watched in marathon and STILL don't understand parts (Josie as drawer pull? What?), but I love all its wackiness and its creation of its own little world. "The X-Files"? I harped on that show to the point where people started asking me to not talk about it before I even got started. And it was huge. "ALIAS"? Sure I haven't watched on this season, but for a good 3 seasons, that was my show. And now, my sweet mai tai of comedy, "Arrested Development" is being killed before my eyes. In tribute, I thought I'd make a list of shows available to those of you who might be seeking something less hilarious, tautly written, worse acted, and less interesting. Y'know, so we can keep the trend alive.
"King of Queens"
"The Bachelor"
"E.R."
"Hope & Faith"
"Hot Properties"
That thing with Freddie Prinze Jr. who couldn't act his way out of a wet paper bag that came with explicit, point-by-point lessons and had signs illustrating them in pictograms lining the bag walls
"Dancing With The Stars" (god help us)
"Law & Order: SVU, CPU, UPN, LMNOP, Criminal Intent, and Decaf"
"Survivor"
"Surface/Threshold/Invasion"
"Two and a Half Men"
"The Apprentice" whoever's firing
My god "JOEY"'s still on for chrissakes!!!???!!!
"Crossing Jordan", also a shocker it's not been cancelled. Honestly.
"Will & Grace". Please.
So think about it, darlings, and send FOX a sweet letter telling them their taste is much better than their competitors.
Friday, November 11, 2005
An Evening of Fine Dining in Five Chapters
CHAPTER 1
But of course we went to Tony's. Where would the most irreverently wacky family go for the patriarch's birthday? For all of you that aren't St. Louisans, Tony's is the 5-star restaurant that always wins that "Best Place To Go If Someone Else Is Paying" poll in the local weekly. It's the sort of place where people go when they want to impress someone, business or pleasure, and where you have so many table attendants, it's difficult to know who to ask for the check. Of course, when we arrive, a wee bit later than our scheduled 6pm time, I find out most of those table attendants know where my mother is. She's in the bathroom. That that many men would know where my mother is at any given time is interesting, but that they knew that she was "indisposed" only illustrated the key to my mother - she tells everyone just a bit too much usually while giggling a whole lot.
CHAPTER 2
Nothing says birthday like masks, those-blow-out-things-that-curl-up-after-you're-done-blowing, bendy umbrella straws, a birthday boy crown sized for a child, and a frizzly garland to wear like a boa. I'm not so sure the Montgomery C. Burns lookalike (now with severe combover!) agreed, but our motto for the evening was "The last thing these people will think about before they die will not be 'I can't believe those obnoxious people ruined my Wednesday night at Tony's'".
CHAPTER 3
Laughs, laughs, laughs is pretty much what takes place after the gang's got a round in 'em. Especially when my mother gets going. She regaled us with one gem after nearly walking into the men's room which is across the hall from the ladies'. The story featured my mother in the men's room in a hospital thinking she was in a unisex restroom. She learned the hard lesson when a pair of brown tassel loafers walked in. That's when she, trapped like a rat, pulled her feet up and pretended to not be there. This lasted until she was sure the man was gone and she was able to make a break for it. Sure, this has happened to many people. There have been potty oopses throughout the years, but no one in history, until my mother, has blamed such an incident on a pumpkin. Apparently, she couldn't tell the difference between the signs because it was Halloween and there was a pumpkin with "fluffy legs" partially blocking the sign. The urinals weren't quite enough of a clue.
CHAPTER 4
Cake time! With four tall candles, the cake was pretty bright in its own right, but it got a lot brighter after we started the photo taking. The digital camera I've inherited has a flash as bright as a nuclear blast on a sunny day and that is certainly disrupting to romantic dinners in dimly lit restaurants. But we, the "you're not going to remember us on your death bed" family could care less. I take the photos and miss the big wish moment so the waiter (or someone else in a tux) relights the candles. I take more photos catching the moment perfectly. Fortunately, Monty Burns had already eaten and didn't need to see for the rest of the evening. I do hope Smithers drove him home though. Those scortched retinas make Highway 40 a real bitch to navigate.
CHAPTER 5
The final moments. We gather up our toys, I hug all the attendants that refolded my napkin while I was in the bathroom, and we gather in the foyer to hear the maitre'd thank us for coming. There's a pause. He concludes with, "You're all so festive." We conclude this was the ritzy restaurant way of saying, "It's both a blessing and a curse you people come on birthdays."
But of course we went to Tony's. Where would the most irreverently wacky family go for the patriarch's birthday? For all of you that aren't St. Louisans, Tony's is the 5-star restaurant that always wins that "Best Place To Go If Someone Else Is Paying" poll in the local weekly. It's the sort of place where people go when they want to impress someone, business or pleasure, and where you have so many table attendants, it's difficult to know who to ask for the check. Of course, when we arrive, a wee bit later than our scheduled 6pm time, I find out most of those table attendants know where my mother is. She's in the bathroom. That that many men would know where my mother is at any given time is interesting, but that they knew that she was "indisposed" only illustrated the key to my mother - she tells everyone just a bit too much usually while giggling a whole lot.
CHAPTER 2
Nothing says birthday like masks, those-blow-out-things-that-curl-up-after-you're-done-blowing, bendy umbrella straws, a birthday boy crown sized for a child, and a frizzly garland to wear like a boa. I'm not so sure the Montgomery C. Burns lookalike (now with severe combover!) agreed, but our motto for the evening was "The last thing these people will think about before they die will not be 'I can't believe those obnoxious people ruined my Wednesday night at Tony's'".
CHAPTER 3
Laughs, laughs, laughs is pretty much what takes place after the gang's got a round in 'em. Especially when my mother gets going. She regaled us with one gem after nearly walking into the men's room which is across the hall from the ladies'. The story featured my mother in the men's room in a hospital thinking she was in a unisex restroom. She learned the hard lesson when a pair of brown tassel loafers walked in. That's when she, trapped like a rat, pulled her feet up and pretended to not be there. This lasted until she was sure the man was gone and she was able to make a break for it. Sure, this has happened to many people. There have been potty oopses throughout the years, but no one in history, until my mother, has blamed such an incident on a pumpkin. Apparently, she couldn't tell the difference between the signs because it was Halloween and there was a pumpkin with "fluffy legs" partially blocking the sign. The urinals weren't quite enough of a clue.
CHAPTER 4
Cake time! With four tall candles, the cake was pretty bright in its own right, but it got a lot brighter after we started the photo taking. The digital camera I've inherited has a flash as bright as a nuclear blast on a sunny day and that is certainly disrupting to romantic dinners in dimly lit restaurants. But we, the "you're not going to remember us on your death bed" family could care less. I take the photos and miss the big wish moment so the waiter (or someone else in a tux) relights the candles. I take more photos catching the moment perfectly. Fortunately, Monty Burns had already eaten and didn't need to see for the rest of the evening. I do hope Smithers drove him home though. Those scortched retinas make Highway 40 a real bitch to navigate.
CHAPTER 5
The final moments. We gather up our toys, I hug all the attendants that refolded my napkin while I was in the bathroom, and we gather in the foyer to hear the maitre'd thank us for coming. There's a pause. He concludes with, "You're all so festive." We conclude this was the ritzy restaurant way of saying, "It's both a blessing and a curse you people come on birthdays."
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Rant du Jour
I remember when dolls were just dolls. Now of course, they're silent puppets for some leftist agenda that makes girls consider abortions and questioning authority and thinking for themselves. How dare they! No longer are they lifeless plastic heads and cloth bodies dressed in gingham and chintz! They're now trying to weasel their liberalism into our lives through subtle corporate philanthropy! Helping girls? How insane! Run for The Handmaid's Tale hills, ladies! And thank Jebus for Pastor Frank! He saved us from this Mattel mind-fuck! All hail Pastor Frank!
Caution. Geniuses at Work.
Uh...what the hell? Dolls are just dolls. And these dolls actually do something good by teaching kids about history and other cultures and aren't coveted because they represent some impossible physical standard. To take something so innocent as a freakin' doll fashion show and turn it into some sort of right-wing crisis just reminds me that humans are freaked-out assholes who deserve the volumes of crap the world throws at us because we weak minded, selfish, and actually deserve it.
And that, sugarcheeks, is my rant du jour.
Caution. Geniuses at Work.
Uh...what the hell? Dolls are just dolls. And these dolls actually do something good by teaching kids about history and other cultures and aren't coveted because they represent some impossible physical standard. To take something so innocent as a freakin' doll fashion show and turn it into some sort of right-wing crisis just reminds me that humans are freaked-out assholes who deserve the volumes of crap the world throws at us because we weak minded, selfish, and actually deserve it.
And that, sugarcheeks, is my rant du jour.
Halloween Hijinks
What's a ghost's least favorite room in the house?
The living room.
Where do you learn to make ice cream?
Sundae school.
What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?
Frostbite.
And those are just a few of the gems the kiddies dropped at my feet before winning a tiny candy bar. The special winner was a girl who asked, "Why is 6 afraid of 7?" I guessed the answer (because 7 8 9) and although disappointed, she was pleased to find that if I guessed the answer to your joke, you won TWO candies! Ha HA! That's Halloween at my house where the main decoration is a ghost balloon bought from a hospital gift shop, I dress like a slutty schoolgirl, and have to keep Henry from eating the kids' treats. Ahhh...I can't wait for next year.
The living room.
Where do you learn to make ice cream?
Sundae school.
What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?
Frostbite.
And those are just a few of the gems the kiddies dropped at my feet before winning a tiny candy bar. The special winner was a girl who asked, "Why is 6 afraid of 7?" I guessed the answer (because 7 8 9) and although disappointed, she was pleased to find that if I guessed the answer to your joke, you won TWO candies! Ha HA! That's Halloween at my house where the main decoration is a ghost balloon bought from a hospital gift shop, I dress like a slutty schoolgirl, and have to keep Henry from eating the kids' treats. Ahhh...I can't wait for next year.
Phase One
The kitchen cabinets are on their way to my house as I type. Phase One of Total Caboose Upheaval has begun. Stay tuned for all the triumphs and tribulations of rehabbing as written by a girl who hammers like lightening - never hits the same place twice.
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