HTML= Hate Too Many Lines

Just for the record, I am not unaware of the ugly break in my comments page. I just can not figure out how to fix it.

The Art of Love

In the very early first century A.D., Ovid penned advice on the art of seducing women. He says:

Don't let your hair stick up in tufts on your head; see that your hair and your beard are decently trimmed. See also that your nails are clean and nicely filed; don't have any hair growin out of your nostrils; take care that your breath is sweet, and don't go about reeking like a billy-goat.

Still relevant after all these years, Ovid!

Also, for you tricksy boyses:

Tears, too, are a mighty useful resource in the matter of love. They would melt a diamond. Make a point, therefore, of letting your mistress see your face all wet with tears. Howbeit, if you can't manage to squeeze out any tears -- and they won't always flow just when you want them to -- put your finger in your eyes.

Kitty!

I give you this:



because kitties make everyone happy.

Here We Are, Face to Face

I used to work at a radio station. Well, more correctly I worked at a group of radio stations. Two country stations, one classic rock, one sports talk and one golden oldies. One of the country stations, KIIM was (and still is) huge in this town and very well connected, which meant I got to meet a lot of country stars. Some of my favorites were Blake Shelton (meeeeOOOW!), Emerson Drive (puuurrrrr), Little Big Town, and (are you ready for this) Kenny Rogers. I thought I was going to die. I'm on the fence about country music, but it's what I grew up listening to, so I have a soft spot in my heart for most 80's country. Kenny Rogers was always a favorite when I was little; the story goes that when my grandma picked me up from preschool every day, I wouldn't get in the car unless "Lucille" was playing. I didn't tell him that story, but I really wish I had.

But all this is beside the point. This morning on the way to work I had on KHYT, the classic rock station that I worked with. Their in-studio guest was Rick Schroder, and I wanted to cry because I quit 2 years ago with no idea of what I'd be missing today. I used to have the biggest crush on him, way back when. I know we're grown up and he's married with babies and I'm mom with boyfriend, but still...

He just made a film called Black Cloud that is premiering here today. He lives up in Flagstaff, so Arizona is getting the VIP treatment. It won several awards and I do think I'll have to check it out.

Oh Ricky...

Pardon My Sobbing

Last night was a horrible night.

A little background: Thursday night I failed a test miserably, and I started a good-sized fight with Eli and spent Friday pretty convinced that he'd be choosing the nearest exit any moment (that's still up in the air... check back later). I ate horrid mexican food for lunch and spent much of the afternoon throwing up. Coming home, I threw in the towell and stopped for beer and dinner. When I got to the checkout line and looked into my little basket, I saw 1 (one) individual sized pizza, 1 (one) pint of ice cream and 1 (one) six pack of beer. I realized how sad and lonely I looked making this purchase on a Friday evening, so promptly went home to down a couple of those beers to numb that pain. Oh, and I'm also deep in the throws of my pre-menstrual insanity. (Note: I've never put much stock into the idea of PMS, until the past couple years or so, when I realized I definitely become mean, sad, tragic and paranoid during a certain 3 days a month)

So what did I do, after this horrid day? Why, I watched Terms of Endearment. I'd never seen it before. I guess I knew it would be sad, but OH MY GOD! When Debra Winger died, I was sobbing. I don't mean a tear or two came rolling down. I mean I was sobbing, the kind where your chest is hitching and you get the hiccups, and your nose runs.

I think I'm better today, but I wouldn't trust myself to watch Steel Magnolias or Beaches.

Not Funny

One of the saddest things ever. The whole article is here.

If we're so gung ho to save other countries from themselves, shouldn't there be someone over there giving that baby 3 squares a day?

That's the most awful thing, ever. And the worst is, there's really nothing I know to do about it. Who are you going to donate money to and be assured that it will go feed this baby? UNICEF, maybe? I am going to look into this more.

Jesus Doesn't Love You

Chimpo already posted this, but it's so good that I have to help spread the word.

Tidbits and Such

I've been fairly busy and preoccupied the past few days, so today I bring you a few random things.

I started wondering this morning, when where scissors invented? I did some research and found that they were invented thousands of years ago in ancient Egypt, by Leonardo Da Vinci, and in Rome about 100 A.D.

Anne Rice has been (in my ever so meek opinion) of questionable status for many books now. I keep buying them and reading them, because for the few books of utter crap (Memnoch the Devil, for example, or Merrick. Don't get me started on Violin), you get something brilliant and beautiful like Blackwood Farm (to be fair: I'm in the middle of it still; it may yet take a turn for the worse). I'm enjoying Blackwood Farm so much because it reminds me of the romantic and lovely Interview With The Vampire and The Vampire Lestat from before she was so full of herself and immersed in her own greatness. There is now a new book out called Blood Canticle which picks up where Blackwood Farm leaves off, and finishes the job of completely interweaving the Vampires and the Mayfair Witches. Some pretty bad customer reviews were posted on Amazon, and Ms. Rice decided to answer. I wish I hadn't read it, I lost a lot of respect for her. It comes across as nothing more than petulant foot stomping.

Last night was the season premiere of Law and Order, now with 100% less Jerry Orbach, and 100% more Dennis Farina. I miss Lenny, to be sure, but I think Dennis Farina is ok. The first half seemed to fly by a lot quicker because I wasn't as interested, but all was well again when Jack McCoy showed up.

I googled Eli today. I also google image searched my first name, and the results are very interesting.

Big Election Year

For complete coverage, go here.

The Ubiquitous Coitus Interruptus

This evening I'm studying the Roman Empire (Chapter 6). In a section entitled "The Upper-Class Roman Family", we learn that in the early 2nd century there was a noticeable decline in the number of children among the upper classes. There were several imperial laws aimed to increase the number of kids, but it just didn't seem to work. Couples continued to use all sorts of contraceptive methods, from amulets and potions to the rhythm method (the kamikaze method, if you will) and creepy early versions of condoms made of goat bladders. And of course, as always throughout history, women used the wire hanger when all else failed. But here's what made me pause: "Although the medical sources do not mention it, the Romans may also have used the ubiquitous coitus interruptus". I had to stop and really think about this. Ubiquitous, fine, I understand that to mean universal or something like it, but I had to stop and think a moment about coitus interruptus. I think my brain just had trouble reading "pulling out" in a history textbook.

I know this whole post sounds really childish, like I just found the chapter on reproduction in my encyclopedia or something, but the part that I find so amusing is imagining the decision to include that bit of information. It wasn't a particularly necessary statement. The author even admits that there is no real source suggesting that men have been making that promise for all these years (but we already knew they'd say anything, didn't we ladies?). But no, he had to throw it in, and what a dilly it must have been while trying to figure out how to phrase that.

Hey, at least now you know what I'm so busy studying!

Phrightfully Phragrant Pheremones

I really can't get over how good I smell in Lolita Lempicka perfume. I've had it for a while, but only now am wearing it on a regular basis, and all I want to do is sniff me.

However, I just ran across this, and now I'm scared of perfume. Oh well, one more thing that's bad for you. It gets to the point where you're just numb to it, and I have to say, I give up. I'm not going to live forever, no matter what I do, and if smelling pretty shaves a day or two off my life, so be it.

Halfway to Being a Grownup

That is how Robb referred to yesterday, his 9th birthday. He took a few minutes to verify that our timetable is still intact, meaning he is:

• 2 years away from getting his ear(s) pierced (although I told him he'd have to tell his dad, I wasn't doing it for him).
• 4 years away from getting complete control over his hairstyle and color (he's thinking green, currently).
• 7 years away from getting (almost) anything he wants pierced, and driving.

Shmee and I took him to see Sky Captain and the World of Tommorrow. It was pretty ok. There wasn't much in the way of story, but that's ok, that's kind of the point. It was very well done, and Gwyneth Paltrow is back in my good graces. Jude Law remains, as always, my boyfriend.

We got home and he went to invite his friends over to watch him open his presents and eat his cake. He came back crying, saying they were coming, but they hadn't even remembered it was his birthday. He had invited them to the Chuck E. Cheese party his dad threw on Saturday, but they didn't show. But he just told them about it, and insisted that I not actually write down invites to give to their moms, so of course they forgot. I feel bad, like I should have just done it, but he was really adament that I not do that, and that I would embarrass him. So when we went to invite them over yesterday, their mom was all in a flurry and upset that we didn't give her notice and they didn't get Robb a present. But in the end it was ok, they came over, they all had a really good time, and Robbie ended the day a happy guy.

My big present to him was a big, fairly decent quality skateboard (and helmet, pads, gloves, etc). He's very excited and doing pretty well on it. I am just not watching him on it, so as to spare myself more grey hair.

Oh, and more on what I did my hair color later. It's doubleplus ungood.

WWJ(a Rule)D?

I watched Dave Chappelle's new special this weekend. I didn't laugh quite as much as I did at his last one ("Sprinkle some crack on him", "Sorry Officer, I ... didn't know I couldn't do that"), it was still great. I love that guy.

Always a Bridesmaid...

Those of you that know me are probably well aware that I am very passionate on the issue of gay rights, most 'specially and simply the right to marry. I don't want to write a big long rant that you've heard before, and besides, the kind of people I have around me are the kind of people who agree on this subject anyway. Suffice it to say, I believe the sanctity of marriage is a big crock of shit, and trotting it out as an argument against gay marriage is ridiculous. I am divorced, from a Catholic wedding, no less, so I feel like I've pretty much shit on the sanctity of marriage. Yet if Shmee and I wanted to, we could go get married right now, tonight (don't worry honey; I'm not asking). Dan Savage, of my beloved Savage Love took his boyfriend, a lesbian friend, and her girlfriend to obtain a marriage certificate. He and one of the women applied for and received a marriage license, all the while loudly making it clear that they were just doing it for fun, and that they were both gay and involved with other people. The whole article is here; and a pretty funny read. Where is the sanctity in that marriage?

So I was very pleasantly surprised to read this article about our own Terminator signing a bill that that furthers the cause a little bit. I know it's not the whole shebang, and I know that maybe it's even a diversionary tactic. But I don't believe change happens all at once, and he still just made things better than they were.

Thanks Arnold, and maybe now I can forgive you for Jingle All the Way.

Why Yes, I DO Have a Purty Mouth

Last night I watched Deliverance for the first time. I'd always meant to see it, but probably never would have rented it. As luck would have it, I was channel surfing right before it started on one of my favorite channels, TCM. Of course I knew the gist of the story (Squeal like a pig! Squeal like a pig!), but I didn't realize that there was so much more to it. It really was an amazing movie. I expected some shock value and camp, but instead the acting, the direction, the scenery, everything was incredible.

In particular, I most liked that it ended on a fairly realistic note. We're pretty sure that one of the offending hillbillies got away, and that they killed some poor shmuck out hunting. It seems that movies currently either have the good guy walking away while offering one last smug remark, or the moral and emotional repercussions destroy them. But not Jon Voight! Nope, he did what he had to do to survive, lost one of his friends, probably killed an innocent man in the process, and continued to do what he had to do by covering it up and moving on. Nightmares notwithstanding, he moved on.

Isn't it nice when you watch something that you expect to be nothing more than vaguely entertaining, and instead are surprised with something that really hits you hard?

On a comedy note, I remember hearing this once, and of course couldn't get it out of my head the whole time. It's to the tune of "Waiting is the Hardest Part" by Tom Petty.

Well, I think I’ll go and rent me a movie right now;

Go and get something I ain’t never seen.

And on the discount rack, I see Deliverance,

And I’m watchin’ it now and they’ve got to that scene

Where they meet the hillbillies and they’re big and they’re
mean…

And who’s that crawlin’ ‘round on his knees?

It’s Ned Beatty! (Beatty!) Ned Bea-yay-yay!

Ned Beatty had the hardest part

‘Cause redneck love leaves emotional scars.

I guess he didn’t read the script too far;

Ned Beatty had the hardest part!

Well, I wonder what kind of parts Ned turned down –

Oh, I wonder how desperate he was.

‘Cause I’ve heard it’s pretty tough in Hollywood,

But I woouldn’t ever let them tie me to a tree;

Screamin’ and holdin’ up my BVDs;

Waitin’ for Burt to come and rescue me,S

ayin’ “Hey Burt!” (Hey Burt) Hey-yay-yay!

Ned Beatty had the hardest part.

If you got a purty mouth, you can be a big star.

I bet the next day, his agent got fired.

Ned Beatty had the hardest part!

Well, don’t let ‘em get you Ned – don’t let ‘em next to
you!

Don’t let ‘em get you Ned – you know what he wants to
do!

Think of your momma Ned – put you through drama school;

Is this what she had in mind? You think she’s proud of
you?

Ned Beatty! (Beatty!) Ned Bea-yay-yay!

Ned Beatty had the hardest part!He’s taken method acting just
a bit too far,

‘Cause this ain’t exactly Shakespeare-in-the-Park.

Ned Beatty had the hardest part!

Fines Double in a Construction Zone

You may or may not have noticed that the blog is under construction. Don't worry, it's not done just yet. So please beware of men working.

Please feel free to share any comments or suggestions (Chimpo , if you don't have anything nice to say...). I'm not quite happy with it but can't figure out why. Color scheme, in particular. I know I have a few random green spots I need to get out, but thoughts on the grey/brown and which has too much where would help.

I also know the comments page is not looking pretty, but I can't stare at all that code anymore. I'll work on it later, so for now just try to enjoy my lovely new front page.

Heat, Shmeat

One of the unexpected pitfalls to living somewhere as stupidly hot as Tucson (we're still hitting 100+ every day) is that everybody feels the need to manufacture arctic tempature air indoors. In my office it is currently 69 degrees. Who the hell is comfortable at 69 degrees?

Now I know that I have very thin blood, or something, because I am extremely uncomfortable outside a pretty narrow tempature range. I'm good anywhere from 78-84. I am aware that is a little warm for most people, so I don't expect to be accomodated. But 69? Isn't that cold for anyone? I have on my big fuzzy ugly work sweater, and I am still shivering.

Possible solutions:

Space Heater. I used to work somewhere that was freezing all summer long, so I kept my little space heater under my desk and hoped no one noticed. Interestingly, I never needed it during the winter.

I think I can open up the ceiling tile that's covering the vent in my office and close it. That would be the ideal solution, but looking at it, I'm not sure how to get into it. I will attempt this next time I find myself alone here.

brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Devil's Advocate

Is that a southern accent that Keanu is attempting?

Ok.

Shout Out to my Homeslice

I've added Oscar to my links at the right. It's not a blog, per se, but I figure it fits there nicely anyway. It's Deviant Art, which is a lovely place to display one's artistic efforts.

Having unabashed adoration for my WonderTwin, I advise you to look and appreciate while the appreciating's good.

Thank you Sir, may i have another?

I am getting spanked all over the place today. A couple things that yes, I screwed up on, and a few things that no, I did not. But I've always been of the mind that you shouldn't whine too much and say "but it's not my faaaaauuuuult", rather you should take it like a man. I did explain what happened here on my end, but then just apologized for the mixup and went on my way. But boy do I feel like the day is ruined for me now. I'm not very good at letting things roll off me. The good news is that I'm extremely on top of all my current work, and plan to spend the rest of the day getting ahead of myself. All the issues that came up today were from a couple weeks ago, so at least I look like I have a cleaned up act now.

It's so hard to get a bead on these people. I live in constant fear of being fired, but I don't think that's really a concern here. Nobody's mean (well, a couple women at our other office are outrageous bitches, but whatever), it's just that nobody gives a shit who's here; it's like they have no interest in a pleasant work environment. I know work is work, and social is social, but I have never seen such a "heads down" attitude, and I find it really disconcerting. I think maybe that's because if someone's always indifferent to you, you never know where you stand. I don't know if they adore me but are just too busy, or if they hate me and are watching and recording every screwup. I really like what I do, though, so I guess I'll just stay busy and out of people's sight too.

In nicer news: Shmee is coming down tonight. He has to do an installation here tomorrow, so it's not entirely an "I miss you" visit, but still it's always nice to see him during the week. Of course, that means I had to shave this morning, but that's a small price to pay.

I'll write more happier, squarier things later this afternoon.

I Got Nothing

It's been a busy, boring couple of days, and I'm afraid I just don't have any fascinating stories to relate right now. As if I could top my Little House on the Prairie post for entertainment value anyway.

I'm thrilled to announce that Diji has joined the blogging ranks. Another friend on the Broken Lizard message board that keeps me entertained all day. Dave, this squeeze is for you.

Spongebob Squarepants just gets naughtier and naughtier. First, he warned us about the dangers of anal rape in the shower, when he was trying to get Gary to take a bath. He was pretending the bathtub was a pirate ship, and handed Gary the soap, saying "It's a dubloon! Don't drop it!!". Last night we saw an episode in which Mr. Crabs lost his millionth dollar and set out to find it. When he finally recovered it, he did a whole big dance thing, and he did that striptease kind of thing, where you floss a towell/shirt/whatever between your legs! My jaw just dropped. I can't wait for the movie.

Medium-Sized Townhome on the Corner

Last night, looking for something good on TV to fall asleep to, I stumbled across a Lifetime Movie Network's version of Little House on the Prairie. The True Laura Ingalls Wilder Story, you know? Of course you all know about the TV show way back when, but as an avid reader of the actual books, I scorned that show. I read those books over and over again; I probably still could quote out of them. I turned the movie last night on about 35 minutes into it, and was delighted to find that it was in the middle of a very accurate scene. As it proceeded, though, I found that accurate storylines was about the only thing it had going for it.

Besides the fact that it assembled quite possibly the homliest cast of characters ever to grace a movie production, here are some of the thing I found particularly irksome:

• Laura ran around all over the place with her hair down. I don't know why, but this really bugged me. Girls did not wear their hair down back then.
• 'Monzo's constant use of the nickname "Bessie" to Laura. Now, I don't remember him calling her this name. She did call him Manly, in the books and in the movie, so I'm willing to accept as fact that he called her Bessie. The problem, though, was that every other word out of his mouth was "Bessie". "Bessie, what would you think, Bessie, if we were to build a house right here, Bessie, right on this land, Bessie, would you like that Bessie?"
• When 'Manzo proposed, it was one of my favorite parts of the books. I remember it exactly:

"Laura, would you like an engagement ring?"

"I suppose that depends on who it's from."

"If it was from me?"

"Then it would depend on the ring."

How great is that? What a ballsy bitch she was! So he gave her the ring (a garnet, if you wondered), and she accepted. They totally cut that out from the movie though.

Allright, enough bitching about the movie. I actually still really dug it, and it was fun to remember how much I loved those stories. It led me to wonder how much influence they had on who I am today. You know, how much I love to be in charge of a farm, and how I call Eli "Manly", and how I know how to find my way home in a blizzard.

Two last notes of interest: there was an obligatory Law and Order sighting. The woman who played Caroline, Laura's mom, was the judge on Law and Order whose husband tried to have her killed. She wouldn't serve him up, and ended up dying. And when searching for info on the books, I found this. I remember wishing so badly that I was somehow a descendant of hers, or one of her friends.

ahhhhh memory lane, what will you bring me next?

Baby Kangaroo

Last night was the pilot of Joey. I didn't even realize it was on, as I haven't watched network TV since Dish TV handed me Law and Order, Three's Company and Full House on a silver platter. I'm not even sure what made me check what was on NBC, but I caught it in the nick of time. It must have been fate.

I'm not sure how I felt about the show, but I think I liked it. No, I liked it. I was pleased that they didn't mention "the gang". He referred to leaving New York, and how everyone got married and had babies, but there was no playing up the old show. I like Dreia De Mateo (how the hell do you spell that?), and out of all the Friends, Joey's the nicest and the one most worth continuing his story. Only thing I hated was that jumpy fast forward crap they do between scenes. But I vote it A++, and would watch it again.

In other parts of the world, I may have just committed myself to one more thing to take up time I don't feel like I have. Matthew, the friend who's teaching me firespinning, and his partner are looking for someone to keep their books part time. They have a website, Flamma Aeterna where they sell equipment. Apparently it's just enough transactions that they prefer to not deal with it anymore. It should only be a couple hours a week, so hey, that's extra $$, right? And in my secret best case scenario heart of hearts, they'll get bigger and ask for more of my time at exactly the time I'm ready to work part time and take more classes. I'm also really hoping to start devoting more time to practicing and getting wicked with the fire.

I was attempting to put off my lunch hour, in hopes that the afternoon would fly by, but I'm just too hungry. This may have been a short week, but it feels like it's gone on forever. I wish Eli was coming tonight, but oh well. We'll get our spoon on tomorrow, I guess.

Peace, love, and violent fantasies!

You aren't supposed to shake Polaroid Pictures.

Well, it would seem I've mastered the art of inserting pictures into entries. So, here I am. But I still can't figure out how to get it over to the side, by my profile thing, like Chimpo.



Test?

Qwest is my bitch!

That's right, I own Qwest and its bitch dsl!!!

I used all my mad skilz to plug in the modem, and it worked!!!

I aced my test, too. Well, I missed 2 questions out of 20, so I think that's pretty ok. Out of the two that I got wrong, one I managed to narrow down to 2 choices, but had no idea. The other, I thought I knew, then second guessed myself, and of course my first choice was the right one. They say to always trust your first instinct, so fine, lesson learned. My next 3 are essay tests though, and I am scared. I've never done well at those.

In honor of my latest hate target (2 people who fell in love on the BL boards), I'd like to close with this line from Napolean Dynamite, a movie that deserves more love.

Well, I think it's getting pretty serious. We chat
online for like two hours a day so yeah, you could say it's getting pretty
serious.

I meant to start being nicer in my head, but sometimes stupid people make it really hard for me. Whatevah! 'night!

Oops

I already forgot this thing.

Well, not really, but I haven't had time at work, and I still haven't got my dsl at home working. I think it may be because I haven't tried to get it working? Who knows. I'll call this afternoon.

I have my second test today. I'm so not ready for this one, but I decided I may as well go and wing it. I'm pretty secure in my knowledge of them Hebrews, but the Greeks? All I'm sure about is that greek=asslove. I'll go back over it on my lunch break today, and if I do horribly on the test, I'm allowed a retake.

The problem, I'm fairly certain, is Law and Order. I am positively hypnotized by Detective Lennie Brisco's cynical humor, and Assistant District Attorney Jack McCoy's reckless brand of justice. It's on every day on TNT from 5-7, and it's like I'm shackled to it. Robbie's usually out playing anyway. I have learned to fit cleaning and cooking dinner into the commercial breaks though, so it's not totally wasted time.

Three's Company also tends to suck me in. Oh Jack, will you ever stop trying to put the moves on your roommates? Janet, will you ever stop being so butch? Mr. Roper, won't you ever put out for your horny wife?

Shmee got asked to work on a sculpture for his boss this weekend. That's good, because he likes it better, but bad because he was supposed to come down Friday night. He actually told the guy no, but I, being the wonderful girlfriend that I am, said that was silly and he should do it. It will probably work out well anyway, as I'm supposed to go have happy hour and try on b-maid's dresses with Michelle after work. And then Saturday, I can wake up to a quiet house, eat my breakfast and watch 90210 until Robbs comes home at 12. I mean, study til Robb comes home at 12.

I think I'll go eat something. And study.

Wilkommen

Today is the first day of the rest of my blog. It's very exciting.

I took my first test last night! 20 questions, I missed 3. Oops. I'm challenging one though, so I should get that back. I'M GETTING AN A, GODDAMMIT!!

I'm going to Frappy Old Feenix tonight. Poor Shmee has been driving down a lot lately, it's definitely my turn. I'm actually looking forward to it, a mini little vaca. I think we're going out with some of his friends, which is fun.

Chimpo posted this: http://www.yfinder.de/sa/LOL3.html so I'd like to clear up that I found that, but it's not me. It is the funniest thing EVER, though.

That is all.