Ben and I were sitting downstairs in an early morning stupor. Suddenly I felt the need to nag. So out of the blue I fired off, "When are you going to fit that ridiculously expensive photograph into that frame we bought?"
Ben just looked at me for a moment and then softly sang, "Spider pig, spider pig, does whatever a spider pig does."
At that point coffee almost came shooting out my nose. I could have died.
Bastard.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Evie-fy
Evie's turned her little teeter totter (is that not the dumbest looking word in print?) into a horse and added a saddle and reins. But just telling your horse to get moving is sooooooo mundane. So today I saw her wave her chopstick wand and yell, "Geddiupify!"
(As you might have guessed, "Whoaify" is the counterspell.)
(As you might have guessed, "Whoaify" is the counterspell.)
Friday, July 27, 2007
Inappropriate things parents say--Ben edition
Never make dinner with Ben when he's cranky. I threw out what, in my mind, was an endearing insult and he responded with, "Watch it. I have a knife." And Evie said in a knowing voice, "You could cut somebody's head off." But Ben assured her, "Nooooooo, Daddy wouldn't do that. . . . This knife isn't sharp enough."
I am such a Netflix whore
I feel so cheap.
Netflix told me that I would love After the Wedding. I saw the trailer and was a little confused. It doesn't give you much of an idea what happens, but that's what made me want to see it. What happens after the wedding? Why does Netflix think I'll love this movie?
So I rented it, and they were right, damn them! The trailer was so misleading. There was nothing sordid going on and the film was beautiful. Beautiful.
But now I find myself paying attention to how much Netflix thinks I'll like a movie. Ugh. I've allowed them to take over my soul! Well, half of my soul--Ben and I are still averaging movie ratings based on both of our reactions. So even though I didn't like The Prestige, it still got three stars from us because Ben really liked it. Bleh. I thought they said the trick behind the magic was always the least intriguing part, the oh duh, it's so simple, slap yourself on the forehead part. Having twins bizarrely share a life along with a futuristic machine that duplicates things was not simple, it was just weird.
Sorry, I just had to vent about that.
Netflix told me that I would love After the Wedding. I saw the trailer and was a little confused. It doesn't give you much of an idea what happens, but that's what made me want to see it. What happens after the wedding? Why does Netflix think I'll love this movie?
So I rented it, and they were right, damn them! The trailer was so misleading. There was nothing sordid going on and the film was beautiful. Beautiful.
But now I find myself paying attention to how much Netflix thinks I'll like a movie. Ugh. I've allowed them to take over my soul! Well, half of my soul--Ben and I are still averaging movie ratings based on both of our reactions. So even though I didn't like The Prestige, it still got three stars from us because Ben really liked it. Bleh. I thought they said the trick behind the magic was always the least intriguing part, the oh duh, it's so simple, slap yourself on the forehead part. Having twins bizarrely share a life along with a futuristic machine that duplicates things was not simple, it was just weird.
Sorry, I just had to vent about that.
Long and tedious Harry Potter discussion below that I can't imagine anyone but Mandy and maybe Lauren having enough patience to read
I'll start with the movie since everyone's probably seen that already anyway. So torn. There were some really great moments but it felt so rushed. They should just commit to having three hour movies. Trying to convert books like these into movies is so difficult, it makes every second precious. There's just no room for anything other than what happens in the book. So when they added all that extra Filch stuff and insisted on including Grawp even though that character could have easily been eliminated--Grrrrrrrr. It just made it so much more infuriating when they skimped on more important parts. Snape's worst memory was turned into a blip so that Hermione could have a weird CGI King Kong moment. Umbridge's observation of Hagrid's class was really funny in the book, so that totally could have added the humor rather than having Filch bust a boil on the camera. Ew.
I must admit, however, that I did enjoy the part where Sirius punches Malfoy. I know it wasn't in the book and it was just there for a cheap YEAH! moment, but I still fell for it. And while I was irritated at first that they made Cho the snitch, I can understand why they did it--no new character introduction and it ended the relationship with Harry promptly which is all they had time for. (Oh, and Harry kissing Cho--Ew. They looked like they were chewing each other . . . wetly.) The scenes in the ministry were pretty darn cool. I love how they made the Death Eaters apparate in smoky clouds. It looks sweet even if it makes Death Eaters seem much more capable than they were in the book. But I thought they made Bellatrix a little too deranged. And am I remembering correctly that Voldemort didn't try to kill Harry before Dumbledore got there? And then he just stood around chatting before he ran away from aurors. He was supposed to be driven away after trying to possess Harry--not by the threat of some sissy aurors.
Overall I just kept thinking, "I could have written a better screenplay than this!" Okay, I know I couldn't but I could have at least told the people who did to go back and do a better job.
(Side note: This movie reminded me once again that I am so not a big picture person. It was just like the baseball game--I would catch myself admiring some bit of scenery when I should have been looking at the action. I totally missed Umbridge slapping Harry because I was looking at the freaky kitties on the wall. When I read text books or instruction manuals I actually skip the bold print. I overlook it completely and it's not on purpose. Part of my mind must think that bold print is the obvious part, the part suckers fall for, and the real truth lies in the fine print. Unfortunately the rest of the world seems to think that putting things in bold makes them more noticeable. Stupid idea really.)
Random movie things of note:
--Draco Malfoy got really tall.
--I can't help but call Lucius Malfoy Luscious.
--Lupin's hair was tragic.
--And I was once again amused by Sirius's prison tattoos. Where'd he get the ink to do that while in solitary confinement? Did the dementors smuggle him ink in exchange for his cigarette ration?
--Dementors smoking is funny.
Now to the book!
Nah. I'm too exhausted now. I'll have to deal with the book later.
I must admit, however, that I did enjoy the part where Sirius punches Malfoy. I know it wasn't in the book and it was just there for a cheap YEAH! moment, but I still fell for it. And while I was irritated at first that they made Cho the snitch, I can understand why they did it--no new character introduction and it ended the relationship with Harry promptly which is all they had time for. (Oh, and Harry kissing Cho--Ew. They looked like they were chewing each other . . . wetly.) The scenes in the ministry were pretty darn cool. I love how they made the Death Eaters apparate in smoky clouds. It looks sweet even if it makes Death Eaters seem much more capable than they were in the book. But I thought they made Bellatrix a little too deranged. And am I remembering correctly that Voldemort didn't try to kill Harry before Dumbledore got there? And then he just stood around chatting before he ran away from aurors. He was supposed to be driven away after trying to possess Harry--not by the threat of some sissy aurors.
Overall I just kept thinking, "I could have written a better screenplay than this!" Okay, I know I couldn't but I could have at least told the people who did to go back and do a better job.
(Side note: This movie reminded me once again that I am so not a big picture person. It was just like the baseball game--I would catch myself admiring some bit of scenery when I should have been looking at the action. I totally missed Umbridge slapping Harry because I was looking at the freaky kitties on the wall. When I read text books or instruction manuals I actually skip the bold print. I overlook it completely and it's not on purpose. Part of my mind must think that bold print is the obvious part, the part suckers fall for, and the real truth lies in the fine print. Unfortunately the rest of the world seems to think that putting things in bold makes them more noticeable. Stupid idea really.)
Random movie things of note:
--Draco Malfoy got really tall.
--I can't help but call Lucius Malfoy Luscious.
--Lupin's hair was tragic.
--And I was once again amused by Sirius's prison tattoos. Where'd he get the ink to do that while in solitary confinement? Did the dementors smuggle him ink in exchange for his cigarette ration?
--Dementors smoking is funny.
Now to the book!
Nah. I'm too exhausted now. I'll have to deal with the book later.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Disgruntled
I'm allergic to authority. Really. I don't like people telling me what I HAVE to do. I get really resentful. It's not like I'm a pioneering spirit or anything--I like direction. I just like direction in the suggesting sort of way.
So we enrolled Moira in school yesterday and already I'm having authority fits. The process was quick and easy, the lady was nice, there was no grilling us over homeschooling decisions, no extra hoops to jump through--easy. But then today I get the school supply list. This shouldn't be an issue but I am so pissed. First of all, I have to get plastic folders, not paper, plastic, and they have to match the spiral notebooks that must be bought in six different colors. So no creative self expression, no folders with dolphins or even those stupid cute kitties--just plain. Way to make school supply shopping not fun. Then I'm pissed about the note not to label anything because it will be used communally. Everything? What kind of foo-foo communist bullshit is this?!? And we have to buy a pencil sharpener. Don't they have communal pencil sharpeners? You know, the ones that actually work, not the crap little manual ones. Bogus!
*deep breath*
This is NOT a big deal.
Ugh. And now there's clothes shopping to be done too.
What have I done?
So we enrolled Moira in school yesterday and already I'm having authority fits. The process was quick and easy, the lady was nice, there was no grilling us over homeschooling decisions, no extra hoops to jump through--easy. But then today I get the school supply list. This shouldn't be an issue but I am so pissed. First of all, I have to get plastic folders, not paper, plastic, and they have to match the spiral notebooks that must be bought in six different colors. So no creative self expression, no folders with dolphins or even those stupid cute kitties--just plain. Way to make school supply shopping not fun. Then I'm pissed about the note not to label anything because it will be used communally. Everything? What kind of foo-foo communist bullshit is this?!? And we have to buy a pencil sharpener. Don't they have communal pencil sharpeners? You know, the ones that actually work, not the crap little manual ones. Bogus!
*deep breath*
This is NOT a big deal.
Ugh. And now there's clothes shopping to be done too.
What have I done?
Monday, July 23, 2007
No Harry Potter Spoilers Here
Except that Harry does grow up and marry Lisa Simpson. And their children were the most beautiful pale shade of yellow.
My nails are sinking into the spaces between the keys on this stupid laptop! Grrrrr! I actually broke my thumbnail the other day and just trimmed it back and left the rest long. Usually one goes and I do the decent thing and make the rest match, but they're sooooo long right now and I was so proud that my keratin had done such fantastic work that I just couldn't do it. Ben has that nail hardener stuff on the fingernails on his right hand. They're long and disturbing on a guy but I know he needs them for finger-picking on the guitar so I allow it. Although now they have a bit of a pearly shimmer when the light hits them just so. Disturbing.
Harry Potter malaise. It's over and, once again, I have no one to talk to about it. Ben and Moira haven't finished yet. Mandy, I'm so tempted to call you on the . . . what is it called . . . phone.
I'm supposedly online right now to get some paperwork to enroll Moira in school. I obviously got distracted. SURPRISE! I've been on a media blackout since Deathly Hallows came out. I was really stupid and got the book from Amazon so I didn't have to wait in line next to kids with glasses, scars and capes. We had dinner with Jessica and Brian Friday night and left at around 11:45. We drove past the campus Barnes and Noble and it didn't look crowded at all. I could've just popped in and had it in my greedy little hands instead of waiting for it to be delivered the next day at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Grrrr! And then we thought we'd cruise bookstores on our way back home and do some freak watching, but alas, the parking lots were full but I spotted no capes. And I didn't have the energy to pull into the lot and peek in the windows. *sigh* And THEN I've been so busy at church this weekend that I didn't have much time to read it during daylight so I stayed up way too late even though I had to get up waaaaay too early and that is NOT a good combo.
And here's the ultimate narcissistic, disgusting, hate myself the second after it pops into my mind thought-- *sigh* Allow me to set the scene-- I was so determined NOT to encounter any spoilers that I've been avoiding all outside contact with children. I even considered not going out to dinner with friends after church on Saturday b/c maybe, just maybe, we'd sit next to some little punk who'd stayed up all night reading and I'd overhear him regurgitating plot points and ruining all the surprises. We didn't go out anyway because we remembered we needed to get the kids in bed since we'd be right back at church early the next morning making breakfast for the Inner City Mission. And here's my panicked, warped priority thought--OH NO! What about those kids at the mission?!? I'll be putting food on the plates right next to the kids' table and what if they say something?!? That's when I wanted to shoot myself, I mean, really shoot myself, and do it inefficiently so as to produce the longest possible suffering before I finally succumbed to death. If their parents bring them to get a free breakfast at the mission, I doubt they have money to spend on the latest Harry Potter book. Shoot myself.
So if anyone has any penance ideas, I'll be glad to hear them. I need to find some impoverished little kid to push out of the way of an oncoming train, losing my life in the process.
Moira's portfolio was signed off on (Yay! my summer can begin now that it's almost over!)and now we take the great leap into public school. What the hell am I thinking? Ariful was over here yesterday talking about kids getting their lunch money stolen and how some girls are so mean and how kids cuss. I wonder if Moira knows what the word cuss means. She knows swear and curse . . . but cuss? And she doesn't even know what some of those swear words mean. Should I tell her now or let some evil twerp do it? But, of course, I'm the parent who tells her child that there are no bad words, only words that you have to be of a certain age to say. What a fucking hippie.
My nails are sinking into the spaces between the keys on this stupid laptop! Grrrrr! I actually broke my thumbnail the other day and just trimmed it back and left the rest long. Usually one goes and I do the decent thing and make the rest match, but they're sooooo long right now and I was so proud that my keratin had done such fantastic work that I just couldn't do it. Ben has that nail hardener stuff on the fingernails on his right hand. They're long and disturbing on a guy but I know he needs them for finger-picking on the guitar so I allow it. Although now they have a bit of a pearly shimmer when the light hits them just so. Disturbing.
Harry Potter malaise. It's over and, once again, I have no one to talk to about it. Ben and Moira haven't finished yet. Mandy, I'm so tempted to call you on the . . . what is it called . . . phone.
I'm supposedly online right now to get some paperwork to enroll Moira in school. I obviously got distracted. SURPRISE! I've been on a media blackout since Deathly Hallows came out. I was really stupid and got the book from Amazon so I didn't have to wait in line next to kids with glasses, scars and capes. We had dinner with Jessica and Brian Friday night and left at around 11:45. We drove past the campus Barnes and Noble and it didn't look crowded at all. I could've just popped in and had it in my greedy little hands instead of waiting for it to be delivered the next day at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Grrrr! And then we thought we'd cruise bookstores on our way back home and do some freak watching, but alas, the parking lots were full but I spotted no capes. And I didn't have the energy to pull into the lot and peek in the windows. *sigh* And THEN I've been so busy at church this weekend that I didn't have much time to read it during daylight so I stayed up way too late even though I had to get up waaaaay too early and that is NOT a good combo.
And here's the ultimate narcissistic, disgusting, hate myself the second after it pops into my mind thought-- *sigh* Allow me to set the scene-- I was so determined NOT to encounter any spoilers that I've been avoiding all outside contact with children. I even considered not going out to dinner with friends after church on Saturday b/c maybe, just maybe, we'd sit next to some little punk who'd stayed up all night reading and I'd overhear him regurgitating plot points and ruining all the surprises. We didn't go out anyway because we remembered we needed to get the kids in bed since we'd be right back at church early the next morning making breakfast for the Inner City Mission. And here's my panicked, warped priority thought--OH NO! What about those kids at the mission?!? I'll be putting food on the plates right next to the kids' table and what if they say something?!? That's when I wanted to shoot myself, I mean, really shoot myself, and do it inefficiently so as to produce the longest possible suffering before I finally succumbed to death. If their parents bring them to get a free breakfast at the mission, I doubt they have money to spend on the latest Harry Potter book. Shoot myself.
So if anyone has any penance ideas, I'll be glad to hear them. I need to find some impoverished little kid to push out of the way of an oncoming train, losing my life in the process.
Moira's portfolio was signed off on (Yay! my summer can begin now that it's almost over!)and now we take the great leap into public school. What the hell am I thinking? Ariful was over here yesterday talking about kids getting their lunch money stolen and how some girls are so mean and how kids cuss. I wonder if Moira knows what the word cuss means. She knows swear and curse . . . but cuss? And she doesn't even know what some of those swear words mean. Should I tell her now or let some evil twerp do it? But, of course, I'm the parent who tells her child that there are no bad words, only words that you have to be of a certain age to say. What a fucking hippie.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Make a memory . . . and then forget it
Yesterday Moira and Evie spent a significant time in the bathroom with the lights off using the constellation glow globe thing-a-ma-bob--you know, one of those mini-planetarium thingies. It came with a cd (that we've never listened to even though we bought this thing in December) that explained the constellations and the myths behind them. So the kids brought the cd player into the bathroom too. Then they took constellation patterns and put them on paper and tried to imagine what other pictures you could make out of them. Evie was surprisingly good at this. She saw a two door electric car shape in Virgo--okay, she just said car, but the outline they drew really looked like an electric car. Might I mention that all this educational madness was self-initiated--my homeschooling work is so easy.
So then at 11:30 I let the dog out and noticed that a few stars were actually visible (living in Columbus with all the city lights means your night sky is usually complete crap) and the Little Dipper was right there. Moira's obviously seen constellations before but it happens only when we go visit some relative in the country and I couldn't remember if she'd seen the Little Dipper in real life. Orion, yes, even the Pleiades, but the simple Little Dipper--I wasn't sure. So I went upstairs and woke Moira up so she wouldn't miss it.
Now when I was a kid, if we got to stay up late or got up to do something in the middle of the night that was like super, super cool and way memorable. So I thought once Moira got over the shock of waking up, it would be fun. So she got out of bed and came downstairs and I pointed out the Little Dipper and she smiled and I asked her if she saw any other constellations she recognized but she looked like she was ready to fall asleep on her feet so we went back inside.
This morning she had no recollection of any of this. She thinks I'm lying. This make a memory with your children thing is crap.
So then at 11:30 I let the dog out and noticed that a few stars were actually visible (living in Columbus with all the city lights means your night sky is usually complete crap) and the Little Dipper was right there. Moira's obviously seen constellations before but it happens only when we go visit some relative in the country and I couldn't remember if she'd seen the Little Dipper in real life. Orion, yes, even the Pleiades, but the simple Little Dipper--I wasn't sure. So I went upstairs and woke Moira up so she wouldn't miss it.
Now when I was a kid, if we got to stay up late or got up to do something in the middle of the night that was like super, super cool and way memorable. So I thought once Moira got over the shock of waking up, it would be fun. So she got out of bed and came downstairs and I pointed out the Little Dipper and she smiled and I asked her if she saw any other constellations she recognized but she looked like she was ready to fall asleep on her feet so we went back inside.
This morning she had no recollection of any of this. She thinks I'm lying. This make a memory with your children thing is crap.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Being social is fun!
Something odd happened this morning. (Ugh, I'm typing this on Ben's laptop and laptops do NOT accommodate long fingernails. I'm mistyping every other word.)
Okay, so we're rat-sitting again and the rat's cage was getting a little rank. Okay, really rank. Jessica didn't have time to clean it before she gave it to us and on the second day it seemed like there was a smell explosion. I went around yesterday trying to ignore it, but this morning I found myself hiding upstairs with the door shut. Then I got this idea: Hey, I could hurry up and drink my coffee and then go clean the cage and I wouldn't have to hide anymore. Eureka!
So Ben and I cleaned things out (while I annoyed him with my rat germ paranoia--"Don't put that on the table! Rats have been in there. I don't want the top of the cage on my floor, I just cleaned the floor, put it on the patio.) and then I lit lots of candles and incense and opened the front and back doors to get plenty of air circulation.
Having the door open meant seeing neighbors. Seeing neighbors lead to talking to neighbors. Talking to neighbors lead to inviting them in to see the rats. And since I was caffeinated, dressed and coiffed already I decided to actually water the sunflower seeds we planted out front and that lead to watering my houseplants that somehow survive despite my gross negligence. And that lead to throwing away one plant that did in fact die. (I like to see how far I can push a plant and then water it and see it come to life again--kind of like magic. This last plant got tired of magic tricks and finally gave up the ghost.) Then I repotted a plant. Then I lifted up a plant to remove some dead leaves and discovered that it had been growing down the side of the table next to the wall. I had no idea how long those vines had gotten and they were all covered in spiderwebs with one significantly large spider still attached.
I'm really coming to the conclusion that I'm not a pet or plant person. I'm just not nurturing enough. Oh, and I don't like to dust either. Actually, I just don't like to clean anything . . . at all.
Anyway, the door remained open during all of these tasks and I got to be all social with our neighbors and it was really nice. And they gave us an incense stick called Fizzy Pop and it was really yummy smelling. Unfortunately, I'm still smelling that rat cage.
Okay, so we're rat-sitting again and the rat's cage was getting a little rank. Okay, really rank. Jessica didn't have time to clean it before she gave it to us and on the second day it seemed like there was a smell explosion. I went around yesterday trying to ignore it, but this morning I found myself hiding upstairs with the door shut. Then I got this idea: Hey, I could hurry up and drink my coffee and then go clean the cage and I wouldn't have to hide anymore. Eureka!
So Ben and I cleaned things out (while I annoyed him with my rat germ paranoia--"Don't put that on the table! Rats have been in there. I don't want the top of the cage on my floor, I just cleaned the floor, put it on the patio.) and then I lit lots of candles and incense and opened the front and back doors to get plenty of air circulation.
Having the door open meant seeing neighbors. Seeing neighbors lead to talking to neighbors. Talking to neighbors lead to inviting them in to see the rats. And since I was caffeinated, dressed and coiffed already I decided to actually water the sunflower seeds we planted out front and that lead to watering my houseplants that somehow survive despite my gross negligence. And that lead to throwing away one plant that did in fact die. (I like to see how far I can push a plant and then water it and see it come to life again--kind of like magic. This last plant got tired of magic tricks and finally gave up the ghost.) Then I repotted a plant. Then I lifted up a plant to remove some dead leaves and discovered that it had been growing down the side of the table next to the wall. I had no idea how long those vines had gotten and they were all covered in spiderwebs with one significantly large spider still attached.
I'm really coming to the conclusion that I'm not a pet or plant person. I'm just not nurturing enough. Oh, and I don't like to dust either. Actually, I just don't like to clean anything . . . at all.
Anyway, the door remained open during all of these tasks and I got to be all social with our neighbors and it was really nice. And they gave us an incense stick called Fizzy Pop and it was really yummy smelling. Unfortunately, I'm still smelling that rat cage.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Completely random
We're rat-sitting Jessica's two rats, Josephine and Ozni again. Ozni had fallen asleep with her head right next to the side of the cage. Evie was charmed by the rat's sleepy cuteness and said loudly, with her face an inch away from Ozni's head, "AAAAAW, Ozni's sleeping! (pause) Oh . . . not anymore."
Jeopardy is the only game show I can watch. It lacks all the horrible hyped up drama and suspense of the newer shows. And those shows always make me care about the person playing--I hate that! I don't want to care, it hurts too much. With Jeopardy everything's quite dignified, no one gets worked up and I never care about the contestants. The girls and I usually pick who we want to win, but if they don't, no biggie. But today Jeopardy's spoiling everything. I'd already decided I wanted Monica to win--she had funky glasses and nice lip gloss and teeth I admired. Then in her Jeopardy Cute Anecdote Time she talked about her morning rule that no one could even talk to her until she'd finished her coffee--I have the same rule! So I felt that I'd bonded with Monica and I definitely didn't want the plastic surgeon to win again--like he needs the money. So I thought everything was good until they introduced the other new guy--a hospice chaplain. *GROAN* How can you not want the hospice chaplain to win? He's one step away from deserving the same amount of pity I'd have for someone that said they only had two weeks to live. And he was older and endearing in that bashful, good sport way. But Monica . . . CRAP! So torn. In the end, Monica won. woo-hoo . . . ish?
I pre-ordered the new HP book from Amazon. But I ordered it with something else and got that free shipping thing. But now I'm vacillating--I still have time to pay a little extra and get it delivered on the day it comes out. It's 5 more dollars . . . I can wait, I'm just afraid that I'll stumble upon some spoiler somewhere in the days before I get the book. : ( AAAAAAAAA, what should I do?!?
I googled Deathly Hallows and couldn't get the right cover image. But they had this picture of J.K. Rowling which I thought was adorable. Her expression says, "I can't believe I have to endure this photo shoot."
Jennifer Garner is a horrible actress.
Speaking of bad actresses--Milla Jovovich. I've recently rediscovered her album the Divine Comedy. She has a really good voice and I like the album. But sales must have really tanked because she never did another album. But being a bad actress in campy vampire, living dead kinda movies must be REALLY fun. Why try to be a good actress when being a bad one allows you to wear skin-tight, shiny black outfits made of . . . vinyl, poured latex/plastic . . .
Jeopardy is the only game show I can watch. It lacks all the horrible hyped up drama and suspense of the newer shows. And those shows always make me care about the person playing--I hate that! I don't want to care, it hurts too much. With Jeopardy everything's quite dignified, no one gets worked up and I never care about the contestants. The girls and I usually pick who we want to win, but if they don't, no biggie. But today Jeopardy's spoiling everything. I'd already decided I wanted Monica to win--she had funky glasses and nice lip gloss and teeth I admired. Then in her Jeopardy Cute Anecdote Time she talked about her morning rule that no one could even talk to her until she'd finished her coffee--I have the same rule! So I felt that I'd bonded with Monica and I definitely didn't want the plastic surgeon to win again--like he needs the money. So I thought everything was good until they introduced the other new guy--a hospice chaplain. *GROAN* How can you not want the hospice chaplain to win? He's one step away from deserving the same amount of pity I'd have for someone that said they only had two weeks to live. And he was older and endearing in that bashful, good sport way. But Monica . . . CRAP! So torn. In the end, Monica won. woo-hoo . . . ish?
I pre-ordered the new HP book from Amazon. But I ordered it with something else and got that free shipping thing. But now I'm vacillating--I still have time to pay a little extra and get it delivered on the day it comes out. It's 5 more dollars . . . I can wait, I'm just afraid that I'll stumble upon some spoiler somewhere in the days before I get the book. : ( AAAAAAAAA, what should I do?!?
I googled Deathly Hallows and couldn't get the right cover image. But they had this picture of J.K. Rowling which I thought was adorable. Her expression says, "I can't believe I have to endure this photo shoot."
Jennifer Garner is a horrible actress.
Speaking of bad actresses--Milla Jovovich. I've recently rediscovered her album the Divine Comedy. She has a really good voice and I like the album. But sales must have really tanked because she never did another album. But being a bad actress in campy vampire, living dead kinda movies must be REALLY fun. Why try to be a good actress when being a bad one allows you to wear skin-tight, shiny black outfits made of . . . vinyl, poured latex/plastic . . .
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I almost wrote this as a comment on Mandy's blog
But then I remembered that Mandy has foolishly told all sorts of people about her blog that should never, never have known about it. I shake my head at you, Mandy. Grandmother and Grandfather Callahan are some of those people and my horrific dream I was going to share was about them.
Too much Dead Like Me can lead to some messed up dreams. Ben and I were Reapers and we reaped Grandmother and Grandfather Callahan's souls. Actually, just Grandfather Callahan's at first. Then the two Grandparents were having this shouting match, just really going at each other, yelling, yelling, yelling and I freaked out and shot Grandfather Callahan just to shut them up. Then I realized what I'd done and panicked. That's when I shot Grandmother Callahan so I could cover up the crime. Then we had to reap her soul post death which is a big No No since having a soul at the time of death means the person feels the pain of their death and then has the marks of their injury for the rest of their afterlife. I felt horrible and I knew I was going to be in SO much trouble when the rest of the family found out.
On the up-side Grandfather Callahan really didn't seem too upset by his death and promptly discovered how to physically move things even as a ghost--he was thrilled. But I still felt lousy.
So I thought I probably shouldn't share that on Mandy's blog in case the Callahans made good on their promise to check it out and think I had some secret hatred and homicidal feelings for them. I really like them, I do. REALLY!
Too much Dead Like Me can lead to some messed up dreams. Ben and I were Reapers and we reaped Grandmother and Grandfather Callahan's souls. Actually, just Grandfather Callahan's at first. Then the two Grandparents were having this shouting match, just really going at each other, yelling, yelling, yelling and I freaked out and shot Grandfather Callahan just to shut them up. Then I realized what I'd done and panicked. That's when I shot Grandmother Callahan so I could cover up the crime. Then we had to reap her soul post death which is a big No No since having a soul at the time of death means the person feels the pain of their death and then has the marks of their injury for the rest of their afterlife. I felt horrible and I knew I was going to be in SO much trouble when the rest of the family found out.
On the up-side Grandfather Callahan really didn't seem too upset by his death and promptly discovered how to physically move things even as a ghost--he was thrilled. But I still felt lousy.
So I thought I probably shouldn't share that on Mandy's blog in case the Callahans made good on their promise to check it out and think I had some secret hatred and homicidal feelings for them. I really like them, I do. REALLY!
Sunday, July 08, 2007
3rd post today
I just bought the 2007 Calendar Girls calendar! Granted we're halfway through the year but whatever--it benefits leukemia research so it's a mitzvah. (It was fun finding the website to buy the calendar and sorting through which sites were for the actual calendar vs. the ones referring to the movie or offering calendars of a different nature--i.e. Naughty Nurses, etc.) We've stopped giving offering at church because we don't approve of how they use a lot of their money so we save up our moolah and do stuff we really believe in. So we also recently bought a photo from the Kids with Cameras program. I'd put links for these things but I'm too lazy right now and I've definitely spent too much time online already. Maybe later.
No title for this
Last night we were flipping through channels, amusing ourselves by mocking the crap that is tv these days. A commercial came on with a couple of local news people talking about some charity thing going on and I heard the lady say something about "feeding hungry mimes." It's really amazing how fast the brain can go through ideas, I mean, those synapses can really fire away because before she'd finished her sentence I realized she hadn't said hungry mimes, she'd said hungry minds but I'd still created countless visual images of sad, homeless mimes and puzzled over how I'd missed this obviously widespread problem that was receiving such worthy media attention.
Then we came upon a show we didn't know (Stargate Atlantis we later found out--tee-hee) in the middle of a scene where a guy breathlessly explains how he escaped a ship. His escape involved cutting somebody's "enzyme bag." This sent us into hysterics. Enzyme bag? Then we spent the rest of the night peppering our television mockery with enzyme bag references. "Hey, buddy, never touch another man's enzyme bag." "So sad--that girl would've lived if only they'd had an enzyme bag handy." "That dude's such an enzyme bag."
Okay, Alias? This show is supposed to be . . . good? Are we supposed to take it seriously or are we supposed to be laughing at its campiness? I don't enjoy it on either level.
Then we came upon a show we didn't know (Stargate Atlantis we later found out--tee-hee) in the middle of a scene where a guy breathlessly explains how he escaped a ship. His escape involved cutting somebody's "enzyme bag." This sent us into hysterics. Enzyme bag? Then we spent the rest of the night peppering our television mockery with enzyme bag references. "Hey, buddy, never touch another man's enzyme bag." "So sad--that girl would've lived if only they'd had an enzyme bag handy." "That dude's such an enzyme bag."
Okay, Alias? This show is supposed to be . . . good? Are we supposed to take it seriously or are we supposed to be laughing at its campiness? I don't enjoy it on either level.
I know I post too many videos
I KNOW.
But this is SO funny. Just humor me and watch it, okay.
(Oh, and for Anne Marie who won't watch videos unless they're explained before hand--this is another clip from Dead Like Me where three Reapers are trying to make a dead lady with dementia understand that she's dead. Until she puts two and two together she can't move on to the afterlife, but they're having a difficult time of it.)
But this is SO funny. Just humor me and watch it, okay.
(Oh, and for Anne Marie who won't watch videos unless they're explained before hand--this is another clip from Dead Like Me where three Reapers are trying to make a dead lady with dementia understand that she's dead. Until she puts two and two together she can't move on to the afterlife, but they're having a difficult time of it.)
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Pissed at J.K. Rowling
and the book hasn't even come out yet. She's going to kill off Snape, I know it. He's going to die saving Harry. He'll jump in front of some horrible curse sent Harry's way and he'll have a short yet touching death scene that will make us all forgive him for being so nasty. Snape IS good by the way. Don't be fooled by the whole killing of Dumbledore thing. And I'm starting to agree with the people who think Snape was in love with Lily. That would explain why he was so incredibly upset by the prophecy that made him turn spy for Dumbledore.
Okay, enough groundless predictions about a children's novel.
Yes, Harry Potter fever has indeed taken hold in this household. The kids clean their room and pretend to levitate toys into their places. It's funny that Evie can say "Wingardium Leviosa" flawlessly and yet not be able to say tomato. I drew the line though when I heard them using unforgivable curses--that is just NOT okay.
Mandy, you should drive to Ohio if you can't fly. I think watching Order of the Phoenix with us is worth a twenty plus hour drive. Definitely.
Have I mentioned that I love Dead Like Me? I only have 4 or 5 more episodes to go and I'm feeling so sad about it. I'm really attached to these characters now. The only one I can't stand is George's dad. I just have no sympathy for him whatsoever. I even hate the way he looks. I'm so on the mom's side. She's such an Ice Queen Bitch From Hell but she tries and she's definitely thawing as the series goes on. I love this scene from their marriage counseling--
Okay, enough groundless predictions about a children's novel.
Yes, Harry Potter fever has indeed taken hold in this household. The kids clean their room and pretend to levitate toys into their places. It's funny that Evie can say "Wingardium Leviosa" flawlessly and yet not be able to say tomato. I drew the line though when I heard them using unforgivable curses--that is just NOT okay.
Mandy, you should drive to Ohio if you can't fly. I think watching Order of the Phoenix with us is worth a twenty plus hour drive. Definitely.
Have I mentioned that I love Dead Like Me? I only have 4 or 5 more episodes to go and I'm feeling so sad about it. I'm really attached to these characters now. The only one I can't stand is George's dad. I just have no sympathy for him whatsoever. I even hate the way he looks. I'm so on the mom's side. She's such an Ice Queen Bitch From Hell but she tries and she's definitely thawing as the series goes on. I love this scene from their marriage counseling--
Thursday, July 05, 2007
An excerpt
Ah, David Sedaris. His hilarious family dysfunction makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. And I love imagining a little Amy Sedaris. Here's a very worthwhile bit from his book Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim.
Let It Snow
In Binghampton, New York, winter meant snow, and though I was young when we left, I was able to recall great heaps of it, and use that memory as evidence that North Carolina was, at best, a third-rate institution. What little snow there was would usually melt an hour or two after hitting the ground, and there you'd be in your windbreaker and unconvincing mittens, forming a lumpy figure made mostly of mud. Snow Negroes, we'd call them.
The winter I was in the fifth grade we got lucky. Snow fell, and for the first time in years, it accumulated. School was canceled and two days later we got lucky again. There were eight inches on the ground, and rather than melting, it froze. On the fifth day of our vacation my mother had a little breakdown. Our presence had disrupted the secret life she led while we were at school, and when she could no longer take it she threw us out. It wasn't a gentle request, but something closer to an eviction. "Get the hell out of my house," she said.
We reminded her that it was our house, too, and she opened the front door and shoved us into the carport. "And stay out!" she shouted.
My sisters and I went down the hill and sledded with other children from the neighborhood. A few hours later we returned home, surprised to find that the door was still locked. "Oh, come on," we said. I rang the bell and when no one answered we went to the window and saw our mother in the kitchen, watching television. Normally she waited until five o'clock to have a drink, but for the past few days she'd been making an exception. Drinking didn't count if you followed a glass of wine with a cup of coffee, and so she had both a goblet and a mug positioned before her on the countertop.
"Hey!" we yelled. "Open the door. It's us." We knocked on the pane, and without looking in our direction, she refilled her goblet and left the room.
"That bitch," my sister Lisa said. We pounded again and again, and when our mother failed to answer we went around back and threw snowballs at her bedroom window. "You are going to be in so much trouble when Dad gets home!" we shouted, and in response my mother pulled the drapes. Dusk approached, and as it grew colder it occurred to us that we could possibly die. It happened, surely. Selfish mothers wanted the house to themselves, and their children were discovered years later, frozen like mastodons in blocks of ice.
My sister Gretchen suggested that we call our father, but none of us knew his number, and he probably wouldn't have done anything anyway. He'd gone to work specifically to escape our mother, and between the weather and her mood, it could be hours or even days before he returned home.
"One of us should get hit by a car," I said. "That would teach the both of them." I pictured Gretchen, her life hanging by a thread as my parents paced the halls of Rex Hospital, wishing they had been more attentive. It was really the perfect solution. With her out of the way, the rest of us would be more valuable and have a bit more room to spread out. "Gretchen, go lie in the street."
"Make Amy do it," she said.
Amy, in turn, pushed it off onto Tiffany, who was the youngest and had no concept of death. "It's like sleeping," we told her. "Only you get a canopy bed."
Tiffany does, in fact, lie in the middle of the road but the cars manage to stop in time. Yep, warm aaaaaand fuzzy.
Let It Snow
In Binghampton, New York, winter meant snow, and though I was young when we left, I was able to recall great heaps of it, and use that memory as evidence that North Carolina was, at best, a third-rate institution. What little snow there was would usually melt an hour or two after hitting the ground, and there you'd be in your windbreaker and unconvincing mittens, forming a lumpy figure made mostly of mud. Snow Negroes, we'd call them.
The winter I was in the fifth grade we got lucky. Snow fell, and for the first time in years, it accumulated. School was canceled and two days later we got lucky again. There were eight inches on the ground, and rather than melting, it froze. On the fifth day of our vacation my mother had a little breakdown. Our presence had disrupted the secret life she led while we were at school, and when she could no longer take it she threw us out. It wasn't a gentle request, but something closer to an eviction. "Get the hell out of my house," she said.
We reminded her that it was our house, too, and she opened the front door and shoved us into the carport. "And stay out!" she shouted.
My sisters and I went down the hill and sledded with other children from the neighborhood. A few hours later we returned home, surprised to find that the door was still locked. "Oh, come on," we said. I rang the bell and when no one answered we went to the window and saw our mother in the kitchen, watching television. Normally she waited until five o'clock to have a drink, but for the past few days she'd been making an exception. Drinking didn't count if you followed a glass of wine with a cup of coffee, and so she had both a goblet and a mug positioned before her on the countertop.
"Hey!" we yelled. "Open the door. It's us." We knocked on the pane, and without looking in our direction, she refilled her goblet and left the room.
"That bitch," my sister Lisa said. We pounded again and again, and when our mother failed to answer we went around back and threw snowballs at her bedroom window. "You are going to be in so much trouble when Dad gets home!" we shouted, and in response my mother pulled the drapes. Dusk approached, and as it grew colder it occurred to us that we could possibly die. It happened, surely. Selfish mothers wanted the house to themselves, and their children were discovered years later, frozen like mastodons in blocks of ice.
My sister Gretchen suggested that we call our father, but none of us knew his number, and he probably wouldn't have done anything anyway. He'd gone to work specifically to escape our mother, and between the weather and her mood, it could be hours or even days before he returned home.
"One of us should get hit by a car," I said. "That would teach the both of them." I pictured Gretchen, her life hanging by a thread as my parents paced the halls of Rex Hospital, wishing they had been more attentive. It was really the perfect solution. With her out of the way, the rest of us would be more valuable and have a bit more room to spread out. "Gretchen, go lie in the street."
"Make Amy do it," she said.
Amy, in turn, pushed it off onto Tiffany, who was the youngest and had no concept of death. "It's like sleeping," we told her. "Only you get a canopy bed."
Tiffany does, in fact, lie in the middle of the road but the cars manage to stop in time. Yep, warm aaaaaand fuzzy.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Good Times II
7 year old Dylan started a grass fire with a smoke bomb and Avnish hit Ariful in the head with a lawn dart.
Yes, summer is really picking up in our neighborhood.
Yes, summer is really picking up in our neighborhood.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
So I think Moira will be going to school next year
It was art camp that did it. She and all her little art friends exchanged numbers at the end and she was really sad it was over because she'd miss them so much. *sigh* I think it's time for the big yellow school bus at last. There just aren't any girls to play with in this neighborhood anymore. And at church we've only made one real connection with a family who has a daughter Moira's age. All of our other friends are either childless or have kids all the wrong age--high school or infants.
So we allowed her to make the choice and she decided she'd like to try what she calls "real school" (which is rather insulting but I let it slide). This will be quite a transition from hippie homeschool but I think she'll really like it. Unfortunately, we'll only be here one more year and then she'll have another big transition to make. I have no idea how the school districts are where we'll move and it may just be back to homeschool--I dunno. Whatever. I think she's ready. When she was 5 there was just no way she could have handled it. She was an emotional ticking time bomb--V. sensitive. But she's matured and is now quite adept at ignoring irritating and insulting kids. Evie, on the other hand, would have no problem going to school. She's much less vulnerable than Moira was, less likely to fall apart emotionally and more likely to kick ass. But I think I'll still homeschool her this year and see what happens after we move.
I'll definitely miss Moira during the day, but with her gone that leaves only Evie to focus on and that means Evie will have a nice chance to be hyper educated just like Moira was. (I know I worked with Moira MUCH more in the preschool years than I have with Evie and I know it's because I've been focused on Moira's homeschooling. That makes me feel more than a little guilty.) And I definitely enjoy the earlier years. (Like 3rd grade isn't early.) But teaching a kid to read is like introducing them to magic. When things start to click it is the most amazing feeling. Fun, fun, fun.
So I'm really excited about this upcoming school year. The end.
So we allowed her to make the choice and she decided she'd like to try what she calls "real school" (which is rather insulting but I let it slide). This will be quite a transition from hippie homeschool but I think she'll really like it. Unfortunately, we'll only be here one more year and then she'll have another big transition to make. I have no idea how the school districts are where we'll move and it may just be back to homeschool--I dunno. Whatever. I think she's ready. When she was 5 there was just no way she could have handled it. She was an emotional ticking time bomb--V. sensitive. But she's matured and is now quite adept at ignoring irritating and insulting kids. Evie, on the other hand, would have no problem going to school. She's much less vulnerable than Moira was, less likely to fall apart emotionally and more likely to kick ass. But I think I'll still homeschool her this year and see what happens after we move.
I'll definitely miss Moira during the day, but with her gone that leaves only Evie to focus on and that means Evie will have a nice chance to be hyper educated just like Moira was. (I know I worked with Moira MUCH more in the preschool years than I have with Evie and I know it's because I've been focused on Moira's homeschooling. That makes me feel more than a little guilty.) And I definitely enjoy the earlier years. (Like 3rd grade isn't early.) But teaching a kid to read is like introducing them to magic. When things start to click it is the most amazing feeling. Fun, fun, fun.
So I'm really excited about this upcoming school year. The end.
Monday, July 02, 2007
I really need to get a life
because I have nothing to post about but movies and television.
Oops, I was wrong. We DID go to a baseball game in Cincinnati (damn, I knew I wouldn't spell that right--Yay spell check!) with Ben's dad. I was going to let Ben post about that one since he's the baseball fan and all. I'm the one who goes to the stadium and forgets to watch the game. I'm serious. I would be trying to open my peanuts or staring at the totally adorable tugboats heading down the river when I would suddenly remember that there was a game going on. Oops! Then I'd pay attention for a little while but inevitably start staring at the scoreboard and once again forget to watch the game. I didn't even know what those numbers up there meant until Ben explained it in the 8th inning. I was also distracted by the lady (I use that term loosely) sitting next to me shoveling food into her mouth and sitting with her feet up on the glass partition thing in front of us like she was in stirrups at the gynecologist. Veeeeeery disturbing. So that's my part of the story. Ben can tell you about the rest.
On to movies and television.
The trailer for Calendar Girls (Helen Mirren and Julie Walters--yay!) had me snorting with laughter and the movie didn't disappoint. Pure silly heartwarming joy. I loved it. Middle aged women decide to raise money for the Leukemia Society by posing naked for their local W.I. calendar. It's based on a true story and I WANT the real calendars! All of them--even if they're out of date. Being 65 years old and having the courage and good humor to pose naked is just glorious. It makes me proud to be a woman.
In the realm of television--I'm loving Dead Like Me. I'm so sad that it only lasted 2 seasons. It's a hilarious dark comedy about Grim Reapers. In the show, Grim Reapers are actually people who have died themselves and now have the job of taking other people's souls from their bodies so the dead can move on to the afterlife. The un-dead Reapers have bodies, wear regular clothes, need to eat, find jobs and places to live. They're not allowed to tell anyone what they are or what they do and they have no super powers other than the ability to remove someone's soul and heal super quickly. Each day they get their assignments on post-it notes but unfortunately, the post-its only have the time, place and the person's first initials and last name. So the Reapers have to show up on the scene, figure out who the person is and then hurry up and take their soul before the disaster that will take their life occurs. The main character is Georg(ia) an 18 year old who was hit by a toilet seat rocketing to earth from the Mir space station. She's having trouble adjusting to being dead and being a Reaper AND having to actually work and pay rent. We also get to see how her family is coping without her. Mandy Patinkin is the middle management boss that hands out their assignments. You can watch it online here.
And here's the opening that makes my day every time I see it.
Oops, I was wrong. We DID go to a baseball game in Cincinnati (damn, I knew I wouldn't spell that right--Yay spell check!) with Ben's dad. I was going to let Ben post about that one since he's the baseball fan and all. I'm the one who goes to the stadium and forgets to watch the game. I'm serious. I would be trying to open my peanuts or staring at the totally adorable tugboats heading down the river when I would suddenly remember that there was a game going on. Oops! Then I'd pay attention for a little while but inevitably start staring at the scoreboard and once again forget to watch the game. I didn't even know what those numbers up there meant until Ben explained it in the 8th inning. I was also distracted by the lady (I use that term loosely) sitting next to me shoveling food into her mouth and sitting with her feet up on the glass partition thing in front of us like she was in stirrups at the gynecologist. Veeeeeery disturbing. So that's my part of the story. Ben can tell you about the rest.
On to movies and television.
The trailer for Calendar Girls (Helen Mirren and Julie Walters--yay!) had me snorting with laughter and the movie didn't disappoint. Pure silly heartwarming joy. I loved it. Middle aged women decide to raise money for the Leukemia Society by posing naked for their local W.I. calendar. It's based on a true story and I WANT the real calendars! All of them--even if they're out of date. Being 65 years old and having the courage and good humor to pose naked is just glorious. It makes me proud to be a woman.
In the realm of television--I'm loving Dead Like Me. I'm so sad that it only lasted 2 seasons. It's a hilarious dark comedy about Grim Reapers. In the show, Grim Reapers are actually people who have died themselves and now have the job of taking other people's souls from their bodies so the dead can move on to the afterlife. The un-dead Reapers have bodies, wear regular clothes, need to eat, find jobs and places to live. They're not allowed to tell anyone what they are or what they do and they have no super powers other than the ability to remove someone's soul and heal super quickly. Each day they get their assignments on post-it notes but unfortunately, the post-its only have the time, place and the person's first initials and last name. So the Reapers have to show up on the scene, figure out who the person is and then hurry up and take their soul before the disaster that will take their life occurs. The main character is Georg(ia) an 18 year old who was hit by a toilet seat rocketing to earth from the Mir space station. She's having trouble adjusting to being dead and being a Reaper AND having to actually work and pay rent. We also get to see how her family is coping without her. Mandy Patinkin is the middle management boss that hands out their assignments. You can watch it online here.
And here's the opening that makes my day every time I see it.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Some kids are playing outside and I just overheard this--
"HEY, GUYS! HEY, GUYS! WATCH ME DO SOMETHING STUPID!"
Then I heard a crash.
Good times.
Then I heard a crash.
Good times.
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