This Is What I'm Talking About

I couldn't even finish watching this movie because there was so much wood panelling. I'm not joking.

Reader's Digest--The Worst Christmas Present Since The White Sweater Vest With Embroidered J That I Got In 1987

Why when there are plenty of wars, famines and incurable diseases to depress us, WHY must we also have wood paneling, NASCAR, and Reader's Digest?

And why must Reader's Digest now be delivered to MY home and make me open it and give me the shivers as I scan over the articles? Articles dedicated solely to health problems, stories about animals (mostly puppies), Muslims renouncing Muslims, disasters/heroic rescues, and ridiculously uninformative celebrity interviews. Katie Couric on news, nights, and biting her nails. Oh, DO tell!

Why must I be forced to see this?

I am telling you, this picture scared the crap out of me. And then I remembered what it reminded me of--

I'm really serious, Reader's Digest depresses me big time. I want to smack the editors and scream. Every article is an insult to my intelligence. I don't know what's worse-- the fact that they assume this is all people can handle or the fact that this is all people can handle.

The voices are telling me to kill Katie Couric.

A Few Things I Forgot To Mention--

1. Labyrinth. You know how Jareth falls in love with Sarah and all that? Jennifer Connelly was only 14 when that movie was made. Ooooo--total pedophilia shivers. I thought she was at least 18. I guess that's not illegal in the goblin kingdom. Ew.

And did you know that Gates McFadden (then Cheryl McFadden--but Gates is way cooler) did all the choreography for Labyrinth? Well, now you do. I think this is the fourth time I've pointed out a former Star Trek actor's other career moves and maybe, just maybe this is too much.

Ha! Have to include this because I was totally cracking up--SOMEBODY made a trip to Glamour Shots. (She does have fantastic cheek bones though.)Hmm . . . that McFadden tangent totally made me forget the other things missing from the last post.

Oh well.

Bye!

Bored, Thus I Must Type

Hmm . . . What to say, what to say?

Evie is currently obsessed with Cinderella. Our friends exposed our impressionable children to this film when they babysat. Why do I have such a problem with my kids encountering Cinderella and her bibitty bopitty boo godmother while I have no problem with them watching goblins and various other creepies in Labyrinth? I think (never mind--I know) it's the whole falling in love at first sight crap. Retch! And Cinderella is just way too perfect to relate to--she's beautiful and sweet and humble. It's all too disgusting. And don't even get me started on Prince charming and his chick-meat ball. Bleh!

Then the other day our neighbors got some accidental doubles from a book club thing they'd signed up for. So they gave them to us and GUESS WHAT? Cinderella just happened to be one of them. I can't even tell you how many times I've had to read that book. Fortunately, the kids don't mind me changing the story once I get tired of the original. Today Cinderella got invited to the Ugly Ball and she complained the whole time about her shoes. Tomorrow those mice are going to be gay.

I know you would all be disappointed if I had a post that didn't include some YouTubery soooooo . . . Because I've been lazy and haven't gotten any Death Cab For Cutie at the library (HELLO! Like I'm going to pay for something) I've been listening on You Tube. But the actual music video for I'll Follow You Into The Dark has some sound effects and the music cuts out at points and that just doesn't do it for me. So I was using this video until I actually watched it instead of just listening. *SNIFF* Why'd you make me care about your damn bunnies?!? I was almost in tears--over bunnies!

This Was My Previous Fav. That I Forgot To Post

I think you could write a whole book on this photo.

New Fav. Photo

(It's better if you click on it and see it in a larger format.) I'm quite fond of this one. And you know who took it? Leonard Frickin' Nimoy. He's an incredible photographer. However, this is one of the few that doesn't involve nudity. He even has a self-portrait with a naked woman in the background. Leonard, Leonard, Leonard.

Go here to sign the petition.

My Julianne Moore Fix

I didn't get enough of her in Children of Men so I was glad to see that The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio was in our mailbox Saturday. Woo-hoo!

I'd heard about the book on NPR (*sound of angels singing*) when they did an interview with her daughter a while ago but had no idea there was a movie until I read about it on Jennie's blog. I think we must have seen a different movie though, because I had a completely different reaction.

I thought it was lovely. I actually cried and it's been a while since a movie made me do that. If even half the things that happened in the movie were true and if she was even half as wonderful in real life, I think she should definitely be beatified. She had a husband who spent the grocery money on booze when he had 10 kids to feed. (Thank you, thank you, Lord, for birth control and not being born a devout Catholic!) He left it up to her to hold things together with money from prizes she won and then felt insecure about his status as provider. Um--duh? You're not a good provider--that's probably why you feel guilty and insecure. Then he would get angry at her for "being too damn happy" and for staying home with the kids and "doing nothing" all day but writing entries for contests. Huh? I didn't come away thinking she'd been cold to her husband at all--I was amazed how often she coaxed him back into feeling like one of the family when she had every right to let him have it. There were a lot of times she ignored him when he was in one of his fits, but she did that to keep her and the family from being dragged down by his violence and anger.

On a tangent--it reminds me a little of how my mom taught us to handle my grandmother. My grandmother has this uncanny ability to hurt people with her comments and verbal jabs. Previously my mom would address this head on but it only ever resulted in intensifying the situation even more. Eventually she saw that my grandmother was never going to change--no matter how often she tried to reason with her. So to spare us the pain she'd gone through as a child, my mom chose to make light of it. Before we'd go over to her place my mom would say, "Let's see how many times Grandma is mean this visit." And it became a joke. I never once have felt hurt by my grandmother even though she's said some really bitch things and seems at times to live and breathe manipulation. And it was because my mom chose to distance us from it. I can love my grandmother because she never gets under my skin. I saw that in this movie too. When the father was behaving horribly the mother would just carry on cheerfully and work around him rather than take him head on. She knew he wasn't going to change so she decided to be the change her family needed.

It was almost bizarre how she could remain so positive and even cheerful when things went wrong every time she turned around--especially when you think about what their life would have been like if her husband had been more responsible with money. She could have had trips and a fancy car and all sorts of extras that were all sold just to keep them afloat. Talk about shaping your own reality. Her daughter's memoir could have easily been a story about complete family dysfunction but her mother made it a story of triumph.

You'd just have to see it. Like I said, if even half of it is true, she was an amazing, amazing woman--definitely someone for Moira to add to her photo montage. I'm going to watch the movie with the kids tonight.

Snow!

I hate it.

I loathe it. Sure, as a kid it was great--igloos, snowball fights, snowmen (only men back then), snow angels--the whole bit. And, of course, there were the exciting pre-dawn mornings spent listening to the radio for school cancellations. But that was before I could drive. (whine, whine, whine) And it was before I had children to protect from horrible crashes. (whine, whine, whine) And it was before I had a car that weighs a total of 8 lbs. minus the wheels. (less whining because this car was FREE and an absolute blessing sent straight from God)

And there is the whole adulthood thing. I'm so OLD and boring. I don't want to play outside. I don't want to be cold. (more whining) But I have chiiiiiiiiiiildren. Children who need those formative snow experiences that, for some reason, have been coming less and less in Columbus. Thus it never fails that once the snow has fallen we (and by that I mean me as the lone adult along with kids of all sorts) are outside doing . . . cold things.

So yesterday we were at it again. We had a snowball fight with Avnish and a 6 year old named Dylan. My aim is soooooo bad and I have the throwing power of an asthmatic 80 year old. But I discovered that if I just chased Avnish and got close enough, I could scoop up armfuls of snow and chuck them at him, thereby insuring some snow on victim contact. All was well until Diksha joined us and, as her very first act, picked up some snow and slammed it in Evie's face. She couldn't even hide her smile when I was telling her that wasn't nice and not to throw snow in people's faces. Grrrrr! Evie was crying and her face was all red and I was trying to brush the snow off but she had ice in the creases where she'd shut her eyes just in time before the Gloved Hand of Ice and Pain attacked her and (*deep breath*) I can't really express to you how much I wanted to make a snowball and nail that little brat right in the kisser. Adults shouldn't think vengeful thoughts against four year olds . . . Later, however, I got to show off my maturity when Diksha came to me with her chin and neck all snowy and complained that Moira had thrown a snowball at her. A good adult would have helped to wipe away the melting snow that was dripping uncomfortably down into her shirt collar and soothed her in some fashion, but unfortunately that adult was not available. "Well, now you know how it felt when you shoved snow in Evie's face. It's not fun is it?" Then that available adult walked away.

Later Dylan's mom came out to join the snowball fight. She also provided some cardboard boxes that we converted into five sleds for the kids to use on the hill. Evie was just adorable zipping down that hill. It only provides about 15 feet to slide down, but she was so proud. Then the friends had to go inside and Moira and Evie eventually got so cold and wet they asked to go in too. I immediately put them in a hot bath and brought up mugs of hot apple cider for them to drink while soaking. All we needed to be truly complete was a fireplace and some plaid flannel blankets to wrap them in afterwards.

But after all that snowy activity I am SORE! My thighs are killing me from bending down 8 million times to pick up snow for snowballs and then later giving the kids starter pushes down the hill.

I am old.

Evie (in English accent)

"I AM THIN AND GORGEOUS!"

I Delayed This For An Entire Day But I Can't Help It

Children Of Men Won Out

After watching 24 and getting way too many torture gross-outs, I just didn't feel like my stomach was strong enough to see Pan's Labyrinth. I wanted a torture free evening out, so instead we watched people getting shot and chased and shot some more in Children of Men. It was intense but very good. For the record my favorite character was the gypsy woman with the dog.

The one thing that stood out that I really hated was a camera problem. I hate it when the movie people let stuff splash on the camera. For me it only emphasizes the fact that all this is make-believe and it totally takes me out of the moment. And there's one scene in the movie where they let stuff splash on the camera and then continue on with a rather long scene. Aaarg! Wipe the lens, wipe the lens!

And, as you know, we go to the theater so rarely that it's always an experience worth writing about. We went to the Drexel on campus and they serve wine and beer in their little cafe thing. So we had a few minutes before the all important previews started and decided to get a glass of wine--except they gave it to us in a clear plastic cup. Wow, I have rarely felt so trashy. I have always associated alcohol in plastic cups with overly tan women with feathered, bleached blonde hair who reek of smoke and wear tight white tank tops with messages you don't want to read stretched across their boobs. Trashy.

I can't remember any of the previews so I guess I wasn't impressed. Oh, wait--The Curse of the Golden Flower. It looked fun in a Netflix sort of way. What I was most impressed with was big Chinese breasts in every other shot. What the hell is going on there? Chinese breasts are why Western women allow Asians to live at all. We can't be tiny and skinny like you, but dammit we have boobs! And with the Golden Flower we have either the biggest push-up bra extravaganza ever to be seen on film OR the turning of the tide in international relations.

Anyhoooo, back to the theater experience. Ben was unfortunately stuck next to violators of the ancient American code of theater etiquette. Their first violation was sitting directly next to him. We chose to sit in the very middle of the middlemost row. Key viewing area. I can't help it if we got the choicest seat and you didn't, people. But they wanted the absolute closest thing to key viewing pleasure so they ignored the rule that unless absolutely necessary you do NOT sit in the seat next to a stranger. There is a one seat minimum space needed between strangers and they completely ignored that. The whole row was empty and they had to sit right next to Ben. Baaaaaaad form. Then they proceeded to chat to each other and text message with their blindingly well-lit cell phones. Grrrr.

But the thing that most intrigued me was listening to conversations before the previews started. I'll let you guess which conversation we were but all of the following were taking place at the same time--a tech discussion involving some sort of computer, the education of Bill Nye and his subsequent career moves, orality vs. written scripture and the effect on canonization trends, and what happened to so and so the other day at work.

Wow, this post was really long and I mentioned boobs so many times I'm beginning to feel self-conscious. Ending now.

Complete Miscellany

--Burned myself with steam from a deflating chapati last night. Ow!

--Saw the first episodes from 24 season 6 last night on the most fabulous illegal site out there. That show is HORRIBLE! It sends all the wrong signals. The racist guy who wants to beat up the Muslim neighbor is actually right because the Muslim turns out to be a terrorist who then kills the racist! Torture is bad because Jack got tortured in China but !WAIT! Jack really hasn't learned that because as soon as he gets back he starts stabbing people with Bic pens to make them talk. Granted he had a moment of doubt and stopped but didn't do anything while Alexander Siddig (new token Arab!) finished off torturing and killing the guy. (Is anybody else having trouble adjusting to Siddig as an . . . actor? Deep Space 9 was so . . . not good.)

--We then went on to watch an episode of Absolutely Fabulous on aforementioned illegal site. Total depravity is sooooooo amusing.

--And tonight we have friends who've been begging us to let them babysit (isn't that a nice problem to have?) and we're going to go use our Drexel tickets that the church gave us for Christmas. (huh? Yeah, I'm with you.) So we're up for movie suggestions. Be quick though we leave at 5:30 Eastern.

For Mandy

I've Been Waiting

and waiting and waiting for something to happen that would be worth writing about. In the absence of such an experience I will, nevertheless, press ahead.

So it looks like Barack Obama will be running in 2008? Oh please, oh please! Let me just say that if he does, he will absolutely kick Hillary's ASS in the primary. Especially if he follows my advice.

*sigh* Other than that I have nothing to say. Sadly, my Jewish meditation book was confiscated by the library last night and I can't give any more quotes or insights until I get it back. Somebody let fines get out of control on his library card even though he knows that's MY job and not his. So we couldn't renew anything and my precious book was ripped from my desperate hands leaving me with nothing to do but waste time on You Tube. So instead of deep revelations all I have to offer is this--

Mission Trips

Thaaaaaat's a topic I've been afraid to open my mouth about at church. We have a lot of friends who are into these trips and I haven't yet been cranky enough to mention something that could get me stoned by those I love. So I'll do it here since any stones would be virtual stones.

First of all, I think everyone should do some sort of work in the third world if only to open our eyes to the spoiled nature of our lives here at home. I do know of one woman at our church who had her heart set on buying a newer, bigger home and nixed the idea after going to Costa Rica. Seeing people who were so content with so little changed her perspective.

BUT why do we have to repeat these trips over and over again? Why do we have to waste so much money on tickets and travel so we can go to Costa Rica and pour concrete for a week? Do white middle class people really have such skill with concrete that we are indispensable? Why can't we just send the money we would have spent on tickets and then the Costa Ricans could hire Costa Ricans to pour concrete.

Now I completely understand if you are a person traveling around and you have actual skills that are not available in that area--Doctors Without Borders, etc. But if not, why do you think you have to go? Doesn't it just become about you at that point? You need to get your charity fix, you need to have your eyes opened. As I said before I think we do need to make it about us sometimes in order to become more generous people, but year after year and trip after trip gets me kind of disgusted. Do people realize what a thousand dollars means in India? Do people realize that they could be generous without travel? Do people lack ALL imagination? Get a picture book about street children, read a magazine article for Christ's sake! (that's a literal use of that term) Personally, I don't need to see a child suffer right in front of my eyes to motivate me to give money or limit my own lifestyle in order to benefit them. But, hey, that's just me.

Griping over.

Colbert AND Bollywood! (insert that photo of gleeful Brad clapping hands here)

That Was Not As Fun As It Could Have Been

Winning is fun. Losing . . . not so fun. Having the television people rub that in by showing OSU fans crying in the stands was also not fun. I admit I'm not a football fanatic--I basically only begin to care when someone invites us over to watch a game on their tv (i.e. Ben and Julie). But even then it is not fun to lose, and it's not fun to watch your team play all stupid like.

Okay, now that I got that griping out of my system I can move on to other . . . griping. We grilled out with Ben and Julie as all good people do before watching an OSU game. Ben and I brought TOFURKY! Mmm, doesn't the name say it all? Yep, it was gray and once grilled looked . . . gray. I think a little more brown artificial coloring could have gone a long way. That picture to the side is a complete lie. Then I thought once we'd piled saurkraut and ketchup and mustard (darn! we should have had onions!) it would be fine, but I think they got a wee bit overcooked. The girls had tofu hotdogs which Moira likes okay but Evie isn't too impressed with. *sigh* Boca burgers and seitan really got my hopes up about fako meat, but those hopes have been dashed. I always thought vegetarians should just get over themselves and not try to imitate meat products. If you want to be a vegetarian then eat VEGETABLES! not vegetable matter pressed and molded into meat like form. So I'm back to that original premise.

I'm currently listening to Lily Allen's, Smile over and over again. FUN song.


And I want everyone to congratulate me for listening to something not Annie Lennox or David Bowie oriented. I've also fallen in love with BabyBird's song, If You'll Be Mine. What progress I'm making!

But just to show I'm not completely over my obsession--Did you know that Annie Lennox's birthday is on Christmas?!? I am totally in the Christmas spirit now! If only I'd known earlier!

(now I am going to hell)

(p.s. She's 5'9")

Ooo, ooo! I Have More To Say!

Today is David Bowie's 60th birthday! In honor of the pagan god of cool, I post the following--



(Oh, and if anyone wanted to know, he's 5'10". I'm sorry, remembering how tall famous people are is my only superhero ability and I have to use it. Someday I will have my Save the Cheerleader moment. I can see it now--a horrible superhero villain will be ready to destroy the world unless someone can tell him right there on the spot how tall Judi Dench is. Fear not, World, I will be there saying, 5'3"! 5'3"!)

In other news--Evie has continued to say some amazing things. "Can I have some more soy milk please?" More soy milk? Huh? Write this day down! And then just a few minutes ago she asked, "Why is the sky blue?" So classic. I had no idea kids really asked that question--I thought it was just a cliche. Wiiiiiiild.

My Post For The Day

is on Faith's blog. She's asked people to blogsit for her while she's away on retreat (although I don't think she's left quite yet) and I worked up the courage to do so.

Evie Just Said

"Lick it, stick it, see ya later, bye."

We really need to do some parental reform.

Evil Toys

So Brad got Evie the Word Whammer for Christmas. (THANK YOU, UNCLE BRAD!) It's a great little toy and Evie's really into it. But today I found out that it was either made by orthodox Jews or it's evil.

You see, I put in the letters to spell God. If you spell an actual word, the toy says the word, sounds it out again and then congratulates you by saying, "You spelled one of my favorite words!" Then it plays a little song. If you don't spell a word, it gives the sounds for the letters you picked and then, so as not to hurt anyone's self-esteem, says, "Great sound!" I put in a G, O and D, and it didn't say the word. So I thought those Nietzsche Word Whammer bastards were out to kill God. But when it was finished sounding out each letter, the toy said, "Great word!" Hmmmm. So then I thought maybe orthodox Jews lobbied and made sure that G-d was not pronounced ... Naaaaaaah. Finally I thought I might just be losing my mind--so we tried out a bunch of different words and they all had the favorite word comment followed by the happy congratulatory song. Then I decided to try out the word "poo" because I'm mature like that. And it did the same thing as when I spelled God. "Great word!" but no pronunciation.

Conclusion: Toy is evil b/c it equates God with poo.

Cute Movie Recommendation

Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing and Charm School--saw it last night and had to give it a shout out for being sad but not too sad, sweet but not too sweet and weird but not too weird. Plus Mary Steenburgen is in it--what more do I need to say? So if you haven't seen it and you're in the mood for a feel good film with lines like "Drag that leg, cut that cane!" then you should definitely check it out.

This Just Happened

I read Ben's post and the following exchange took place--

Me--Do you really think purity ethics don't matter at all? I mean, can you really say that? (pause, while I glance at our google list of blogs and recent entries) Meanwhile, I have a post with the Terminator and Jesus . . .

Ben--You better hope purity ethics don't matter.


(For the record, Ben has clarified that he's not saying ethics of purity don't matter at all, he's simply stating that when it comes down to compassion vs. purity, compassion always wins. Or something to that effect--it's after midnight.)

Why Is The Sacrilegious So Stinkin' Funny?

Pani Puri--Yum. Excessive Grumbling--Yuck

So I had my first experience with pani puri. It was pretty tasty but not as spicy as I thought it would be. Anita toned it down A LOT. Basically you have these little puri puff ball things that you break a hole in at the top. Then we added a few chickpeas, tiny bits of potato, some chili paste stuff and sweet chutney. Then you have a little bowl of "water" (some sort of flavored liquid) that you dipped your bowl into to fill it up. At that point you had to stuff that bowl into your mouth as fast as possible before the liquid made it crumble. I failed several times, protesting that my mouth was simply not big enough to stuff that whole thing in and NOT choke to death in the process. Finally Ben said, "Oh, you've got a BIG mouth. You can do it." Thanks, hun.

That was pretty much the only fun part of the night. We came in and Dilip was watching some Bollywood flick that was not to Moira's liking and she made sure that was very clear. Then we got them to switch to the t.v. so we could watch the ball drop. The whole time Anita was talking about what she doesn't like about New Year's Eve celebrations until I finally asked her if she had anything she DIDN'T want to complain about. Then she started talking about the execution of Saddam Hussein--not a festive topic--and all the things she'd been doing in her daily life that prevented her from hearing that bit of news until yesterday. At this point I was turning into a real grump and just stared at her thinking, You say you don't speak much English, but you sure know how to talk and talk and talk and talk. Uh oh, Mean Jaime was taking over.

Then Dilip just kept cheerfully talking about what a waste of time and money this whole Times Square celebration was. Now I'm not a huge fan of crowds and drunk people, but this is an American tradition people! I wanted to hear Auld Lan Syne and I wanted to see that damn ball drop and I wanted to pop some champagne and kiss. Unfortunately, neither Moira nor the Pandits are fans of public displays of affection and the Pandits are really really not fans of alcohol. So Mean Jaime was just dying to get out of there.

So we got home, put the kids to bed, popped in Imaginary Heroes for the New Year's scene (kind of depressing but kind of sweet too) so we'd have some sort of appropriate background stuff going on with someone shouting Happy New Year, had some champagne and kissed. Then we settled down to some 24 watching 'cause we felt like we hadn't seen anyone killed all year.

Bwahaha! Death, Destruction, Satisfaction

We're reaching the end of 24 season 5. I know I swore off that crappy show but I got sucked in again. Why you ask--because they started killing off beloved characters. Finally I got to see Michelle Dessler and Tony Almeida die! Hallelujah! So earnest, so vanilla, so annoying--so nice to see them whacked. Though I was sad to see Edgar computer guy die from nerve gas. Question about nerve gas--if you were, say, Sean Astin, and had just saved everyone from certain death, but, alas, you must now die from nerve gas, and you had the option of offing yourself quickly with the security guy's gun, why on earth would you choose to inhale poisonous air, suffer and ultimately spit pepto bismol colored stuff out your mouth? That really bothered me. (Wow, lotsa commas in that sentence.) I also really enjoyed it when Jack shot the bad guy's wife in the leg to try to make him talk. That was hilarious! And let me just say that I love Jean Smart. I was hoping she would dump her evil husband for adorable Aaron the secret service guy, but it kinda looks like he's dead. Bummer.

(I feel like the above paragraph doesn't show how much I truly abhor violence in real life. Real life violence = bad. T.V. violence like shooting a guy's wife in the leg and seeing him not really caring and seeing her reaction to him not really caring = really funny.)

Oh, and Happy New Year everyone! In an hour or so we're heading over to the Pandits to celebrate. I hope everyone's conscious. Anita's not well known for staying up late. We'll be having pani puri which I guess is like liquid hell fire in a little crispy edible bowl. Yum.

And if you've read Brad's post and would like to hear what Evie was imitating, I found it. Although it's buried in so much other crap it's hardly worth it. Nonetheless, if you fastforward in about 3 min. 30 sec. you'll see it, baby.