Saturday 9 -- Your Bestest Day

Saturday 9: Your Bestest Day

1. What one day of your life do you think was your best day? Hard to choose just one. The first one that pops into my mind was the morning I was awakened, pre-dawn, because the man I loved was holding me sooo tight as he slept. I was so happy to be with that man, in his arms, at that moment. A beautiful way to start the day

2. What one day of your life do you think was your worst day? November 3, 2004. The day after John Kerry lost the Presidential Election. I'd devoted nearly a year and a lot of my own money to that most worthy cause and I could not believe it ended as it did. What's worse, my beloved cat Billy had been diagnosed with bone cancer and I had to make the awful decision about putting him down. My entire world felt dark and ugly and wrong for months after that.

3. If you had to pick the best year of your life, when was it and why? My 35th. I was in love, my career was taking off, and I was in terrific shape. Ah, those were the days!

4. If you had to pick the worst year of your life, when was it and why? My 30th. A long-term, very tumultuous relationship ended and socially, romantically and professionally I was starting over.

5. Most recently, what night did you do something that you loved? Last month my friend Barb and I went to see Grease with Taylor Hicks.

6. Most recently, what night did you do something that you hated? Tuesday, 2/24, when I prepared for last month's festivities. Not funny. Really not fun.

7. Tell us about your best relationship that did not work out. See #1. He is a very nice man. He's just not the right man ... for me. I hope that wherever he, he's happy.

8. Tell us about your worst romantic relationship that you’ve had. See #4. Sometimes when I think about what that relationshp cost me, I am filled with regret -- and I don't want to waste my time on regret.

9. Is there a celebrity that you’d love to spend a “no hold bars” night with? One of the Bruces (Springsteen or Willis).

He's my person

It was a very memorable scene from (I think) the second season of Grey's Anatomy. Cristina was trying to tell her fiancee Burke why it was so important that she tell her best friend Meredith about their engagement before they announced it. "She's my person!"

Burke doesn't get it. "And if Meredith doesn't approve, then what?"

Cristina is getting frustrated, trying to explain her relationship with Meredith, "This is not about approval! It's that telling her makes it real … If I murdered someone, she's the one I'd call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She's my person!"

That's how I feel about my best friend. He's been unavailable this week. We exchange emails, and he tried to call me Monday but got my voicemail, but he's been too busy to really talk to me. Jury duty, unrelenting pressure at work (he's worried about layoffs, too, plus he has a major presentation in Houston on Tuesday), family obligations (his daughters are both involved with band and one plays soccer, too). I believe they're celebrating his wife's birthday this weekend, too.

I understand that none of this can be helped. He takes his job and his family very seriously, and I admire that. I trust that if he could call me, he would. Next week will be better, I'm sure.

But it's hard because he's my person. I want to tell him about my niece's F in German. He's a good dad, he might have a few insights. I want to tell him about my run in with a coworker this morning. I want him to tell me what's up with his girls, to hear about his confidence level at work, to find out if they're all going to visit his mother-in-law in New Orleans for spring break ...

I'm not lonely. That's not what this feeling is. I don't want "company." Being around people who don't really get me just makes me feel more isolated. I want my person. And until he's available again, I must remember to not murder anyone in my home. After all, I have no one to help me drag the corpse across the livingroom floor.

Well, that was sobering

While visiting my client yesterday, I had a new ID photo taken that allows me to move freely around their facility. As you can see, it's not too flattering.

OK, so maybe this isn't a true likeness. Still, I really must MUST start moving more!

I hurt someone's feelings this morning

She said I embarrassed her during a meeting and treated her like she was stupid.

This surprised me, as she frequently doesn't sheathe her claws when she speaks to others, but that's not the point, is it?

I hurt someone's feelings this morning. She came in, closed my office door and confronted me. That must have been very hard for her to do.

Here is the email I sent in response. "I don’t think you’re stupid and my point was not to be condescending. I would not hurt your feelings for the world. Someday, when we’re not as upset, maybe we can talk about this further. But for now, please accept my apology."

I don't know what else to say, except that I feel shitty.

Thank you, Rush Limbaugh

Let's see now ... Rush Limbaugh is a recovering drug addict who has been divorced three times. He's fat and ugly and smokes cigars. And here are just some of his more sensitive comments about women:

Of the Rielle/John & Elizabeth Edwards triangle: "It just seems to me that John Edwards might be attracted to a woman whose mouth did something other than talk."

On Hillary Clinton during her Presidential campaign: "Meanwhile, Mrs. Clinton is where? She's in the Northeast. She is surrounded by her good old, white female, new castrati male base."

"I prefer to call the most obnoxious feminists what they really are: feminazis. I often use it to describe women who are obsessed with perpetuating a modern-day holocaust: abortion."

The compassionate gentleman who made these comments is the one that is proudly, brazenly beating his chest and proclaiming himself a force of nature, someone who deserves to debate President Obama.

Because he's so loved by his ditto-heads, I don't think Rush Limbaugh appreciates how desperately repellent he is to many Americans. Or maybe he doesn't care. Maybe he's just a very clever entertainer who understands that all this publicity about him being "the head of the Republican Party" is very good for his ratings among his core of true believers.

It's wonderful for Barack Obama. He doesn't have to demonize Rush -- Rush makes himself unlikable every time he turns his mic on. The people who spend their afternoons with Rush Limbaugh would never vote for Barack Obama anyway. There are those who are in the center, or who are undecided as to whether or not they support the President's policies. If most of them believes that Rush Limbaugh personifies the President's political opponents, that's very good news for the President.

Thursday Thirteen #99 -- Wheels turning, gears meshing ...

THIRTEEN THINGS THAT
ARE ON MY MIND TODAY

1) When I consider all the homeless pets in overcrowded/underfunded shelters, I fight the urge to adopt another cat. I realize that my first responsibility is to the three cats I currently have. I couldn't provide the necessary attention, affection and vet care if I had four cats. If this concept makes sense to me as a cat mom, why didn't similar thoughts occur to the Octo Mom?

2) I thought my niece was really into her German class, so what's up with that F? She's been on honor roll every year since junior high, and now she flunks a course? At least it was her quarter, and not her semester, grade.

3) What happened to those football players in the Gulf of Mexico?

4) What if I made some HORRIBLE financial/investment mistake or I lose my job and I end up bankrupt?

5) The air at home is so dry that I get nosebleeds. So why can I never remember to fill the humidifiers?

6) I worry about my mother's short-term memory loss.

7) I'm no prude, but the sex scenes in The Reader made me very uncomfortable. That boy looked soooo young!

8) I can't decide if I want hardwood or tile flooring in my kitchen and dining area. But that's OK, because I can't afford either one right now.

9) I also can't decide which athlete I dislike more -- Kobe Bryant or Alex Rodriguez.

10) My boy cats, Joey and Rey, seem to view me as their mother, while my female feline, Charlotte, interacts with me on a more co-equal basis, as if we were buds.

11) If I had it to do all over again, I think I would have attempted a career as an historian.

12) I live for April 6: Cubs vs. Houston. This is the year.

13) I suspect that Nancy Grace not only wants "The Tot Mom" Casey Anthony to get the death penalty, she wants to give the lethal injection herself.


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Break my heart

This is terrible, but true.

He was "Bat Man'' or "Bat Guy'' or "Bat Boy,'' the minor league baseball player traded for 10 maple bats. It became a big joke last May when word of the unusual swap jumped off the sports pages, and the former San Francisco Giants prospect went from pitcher to punch line. "People are like, 'I'd kill myself' and stuff,'' Odom said at the time, dismissing any such notion. Three weeks after the trade, he abruptly left the team. Six months after the trade, he was dead. The medical examiner said Odom's death in Georgia on Nov. 5 at age 26 was an accidental overdose from heroin, methamphetamine, the stimulant benzylpiperazine and alcohol.

Odom's death had drawn little notice by the start of spring training this year. Now, former teammates, managers and club officials keep asking a question for which there is no satisfying answer. "I guarantee this trade thing really bothered him. That really worried me,'' said Dan Shwam, who managed Odom last year on the Laredo Broncos of the United League. "I really believe, knowing his background, that this drove him back to the bottle, that it put him on the road to drugs again.'' Shwam added: "There were some demons chasing him, they'd been after him for a long time. But there's no way to really know whether the trade did it, is there?''

Idol Observation

More of tonight's contestants impressed me than last week's. Junot was bluesy on "Hey there, Delilah." Scott McIntyre resurrected "Mandolin Rain" and I liked it a lot. Lil Rounds really sailed and closed the show on a high. Nathaniel has to go. He's gone from overly dramatic to incredibly skin-crawly.

Heads or Tails #24 -- Getting There

I may be in the minority, but I love Amtrak. I use it on occasion to travel on business, and every time I go down to Springfield to visit Honest Abe. It's often cheaper than driving (just $12 to visit my client downstate) and it's great for people watching: Families going down to Springfield to see the Lincoln sites, soldiers going home from Iraq or Afghanistan, business people, students going to and from college ... I prefer the leisurely pace, too. If you like watching the scenery go by, sipping "affordable" wine in the snack car without worrying about driving drunk, and eavesdropping on your fellow travelers, I recommend Amtrak. (Warning: Sometimes I suspect they view their schedules as mere "rough estimates," so make sure you give yourself enough time.)

To participate in HoT, click here.

Tuesday Tunes #16

New Releases
This unintentionally became The Bruce Edition.

Do you preorder new music or do you wait and buy it at a store on its release day? Usually, neither. I tend to download a song or two first and then decide to buy -- unless it's Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen. Then, like the fanatic I am, I snap it up on release day. I don't preorder because what if the mailroom misplaces it?

What's your most anticipated release this year? Working on a Dream. Brooooce! The Boss! Yea!

Have you ever been so excited about a new release only to have it disappoint you? If so what was it? Devils and Dust. By the aforementioned Mr. Springsteen. I've only listened to it once all the way through. Hated it.

Have you ever expected the worst of a new release and then were pleasantly surprised when the album was better than expected? Working on a Dream again. I love this one, and The Rising, too. But I really didn't care for Devils and Dust or Magic, so I approached this one with some trepidation. It didn't help that the opening track ("Outlaw Pete") is kinda silly. But then I fell in love. Specifically with "Queen of the Supermarket," "This Life," and "The Wrestler."

To play along yourself, click here.

Nice work if you can get it

Hepburn had quite a life, didn't she? High cheekbones, limitless charisma, effortless grace, awesome talent ... and men. She had real-life affairs with Howard Hughes, John Ford, Leland Hayward and Spencer Tracy. As if that weren't enough, she was immortalized on film having James Stewart and Cary Grant compete for her in The Philadelphia Story. As I watch it again tonight, I'm struck by how phenomenally attractive they both were in 1940. Way to go, Kate!

Monday Movie Meme #2

Is the movie ever really BETTER than the book, comic book, musical, play, folk story, or true life story?

These 3 Are:

The Godfather, definitely! I went back and tried to reread the novel not that long ago, and it has none of the elegance of the movie. It's just kinda pulpy and gory, with a little sex thrown in there now and again. But the movie aspires to, and achieves, so much more.

The Natural. Malamud's book may not be worse than the movie, but it's certainly different (and darker), and the movie is very dear to me.

Breakfast at Tiffany's. Capote's novella is not a romance, and Holly Golightly is more obviously a hooker on the page than onscreen. As with The Natural, I can't give up the Hollywood happy ending, no matter what the author originally envisioned.

If you'd like to play along, click here.

Incommunicado

My best friend was called for jury duty today. On the one hand, I hate that I'll only get quick little texts now and again throughout the day. On the other hand, this could be VERY exciting! He's very wise, so I can't imagine how he won't make it through voir dire. If he gets seated, it will take all my (almost negligible) self control to not question him about the case.

Her name was McGill and she called herself "Lil" ...

Your Preppy Name Is: Pyne Winthrop Lenox the Third

But most people know you as Bunny

What's Your Preppy Name?

I can't believe I'm watching this

What's more, I'm enjoying it. I'm surprised by how likable Joan Rivers is. She's not obnoxious at all, and she's really very smart about people. Tom Green is nicer and more collaborative that I expected, too. Conversely, Andrew Dice Clay is just as unfunny and wretched as I assumed he'd be.

Feeling a little wicked on a Sunday afternoon

So today I was a teeny-tiny bit more productive than yesterday. Instead of going to the movies, I went shopping for boring utilitarian things -- like Charmin and a humidifier filter. Now I'm doing laundry, which I never enjoy. Yet there's a certain spring in my step.

For I went out for lunch and ordered a pear mojito. Yum!

It worries me that I enjoy these reruns

I never watched The Golden Girls when it first aired. I believe it was on Saturday nights, and in those days, I put a great deal of work into never being home on Saturday nights (and in not remembering what I did; it was the 80s). But now, when I catch it on cable, I stop and watch and am usually very amused.

Is it because I now carry an AARP card and had my first colonoscopy? Do I now belong in the picture? While I'm short and carry a big purse, like Sophia, and I suspect that I'm really more like Dorothy ...

A selfish Saturday

It DID start with a drop off at the food pantry, so I'm not an unredeemably self-centered person, but the rest of the day was all about me, me, me -- and it felt good.

I had breakfast at my favorite coffee shop and continued with my current book -- a "guilty pleasure" true crime tome with little or no redeeming value. Then a massage to work out the icky ooky knots in between my shoulder blades, and a pedicure because ... well ... I wanted one. Then I went to see The Reader. (A perplexing, disturbing movie -- Why did she take her young lover? What was it in her past to screw up her values so much? -- but Winslet was terrific.)

I intend to continue the trend by watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order while sitting on the sofa, surrounded by cats.

Days like this do wonders for recharging my internal battery and salving my soul.

I love the Ciroc commercials

Like there's any way that hearing Sinatra isn't going to capture my attention. Then I look up and see these commercials are shot in black and white, which makes the entire scene look so elegant. There's Diddy, looking so casual in his black tie, like this is just another day in the life.

I drink vodka but I don't buy it. Vodka is like a Border's Gift Card, the gift all my friends know I can always use. (Right now there's Svedka and Stoli in the cabinet.) But if I were to invest in a bottle tomorrow, it would be Ciroc, just to support this campaign.

Blah

That's how I feel -- just blah. I'm tired, my gut is having a difficult time getting back with the program after Wednesday's festivities, I miss my best friend, and while I have a lot to do here at home, nothing captures my interest. I don't feel like going out either. I'm not happy, but I'm not unhappy, I'm uncomfortable.

I'd forgotten how much I loved this movie!

I'd also forgotten how much I once wanted to be a nun! Made in 1966, this movie follows the "scathingly brilliant" adventures of Mary (Hayley Mills) and Rachel, best friends at a Catholic boarding school. Rosalind Russell is the Reverend Mother, a stern, yet wise and comforting presence.

The nuns were so compassionate, the girls were so much fun, that I wanted to go to Catholic boarding school and then go on to become a novice, then a nun/teacher. Except I wasn't Catholic, and eventually it dawned on me that something was missing at St. Francis: boys. I was already very much in love with Paul McCartney and didn't see how I could be both Mrs. McCartney and Sister Elizabeth. (I don't know why, I just liked the sound of "Sister Elizabeth.") Still, when I was 8 or 9, there was something very attractive about the idea of having my future planned out … all safe and sound.

I'm so happy that I stumbled upon this gem as I spun the dial on a rainy Tuesday night. It makes me feel happy, safe and sound again.

Idol Observation

Adam made that hoary old chestnut, "Satisfaction," relevant, so I'm very glad he made it through. Also, I like his hair. And I was afraid that Norman Gentile, while entertaining, would be this year's Sanjaya.

Is it OK if I feel sorry for Rielle Hunter?

Regular readers of this humble blog know I consider Elizabeth Edwards a true heroine. Her memoir, Saving Graces: Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers, touched me deeply and finally taught this ever-independent Gal the life lesson that sometimes it requires strength to ask for help. Mrs. Edwards' dedication to the causes that matter to her, like universal healthcare, has not wavered as her cancer has progressed. Last summer, as part of a Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee fundraiser, she wrote: "Throughout my battle with breast cancer, so many extraordinary people have reached out to me and my family, holding us up with their gentle but unwavering support. The truth is, I have been very fortunate -- not just because of their support but because I have good health care coverage. I also haven't had to worry about whether I might lose my home to foreclosure or how I'll put food on my children's table or gas in my car." I doubt I would be able to maintain such selfless perspective if I was suffering from inoperable cancer.

That's why I was so disappointed and disgusted that John Edwards would hurt and humiliate her as he did. I admit it, I was so upset you'd think I was the one he cheated on. (Well, that is kinda how it felt!)

Yet as the press starts swirling around the upcoming release of Elizabeth's next book (Resilience, due in May), whispers have started about "the other woman" in Edwards' life, Rielle Hunter. Here's one columnist's take on Hunter's life since the affair was confirmed in August 08: "Soon after that, the private arrangements between Edwards and Hunter more or less fell apart. Fred Baron, an Edwards associate, had been funding Hunter’s stay at a rented Santa Barbara home. But Baron died suddenly and tragically in late October after a short bout with cancer. This left Hunter in the lurch. The lease on her house ran out in December. Since then, she’s been relying on the kindness of friends, sources say, and hoping that Edwards would do the right thing. So far, that hasn’t happened. Hunter has forged on ahead as a single mom, refusing to sell her story or sue Edwards for paternity. The baby’s birth certificate still lists no father."

From where I sit, Hunter and her daughter, Frances Quinn, are victims of Edwards' selfish lack of self-control, too. There are no winners in this saga, just losers.

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #96 -- "The Welcome Back" Edition

First of all, thanks to Mr. Pop Culture Dish himself, Malcolm, for reuniting me with my all-time favorite meme! Because it's too late/too early for me to be up, I'm going to let music, and this post, "soothe the mind and give it rest," so I can go back to bed for a bit. (Please remember that I am a proud Baby Boomer and my list reflects that.)

Without further ado ...

THIRTEEN SONGS MY IPOD
PLAYED WHILE ON SHUFFLE

1. 100 Years -- 5 for Fighting
2. (Between a) Rock and a Hard Place -- Rolling Stones
3. Domino -- Van Morrison
4. Martha, My Dear -- The Beatles
5. Just a Little Lovin' -- Dusty Springfield
6. You're My Best Friend -- Queen
7. Jessie's Girl -- Rick Springfield
8. I'm the Greatest -- Ringo Starr
9. Little Sister -- Elvis
10. Love in an Elevator -- Aerosmith
11. Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows -- Lesley Gore*
12. Already Gone -- The Eagles
13. The Rising -- The Boss

*Yes, I'm embarrassed that one came up. But what kind of person fakes her TT? I had to include it.

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others’ comments. It’s easy, and fun!

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Now I know my ABC's ...

This seems pretty easy to complete, even after those warm, fuzzy drugs. (Liberated from Kwizgiver.)

Accent: Well, I don't think I have an accent. My best friend, who lives in Denver, maintains I have "a Chicago accent, like Hillary Clinton," which he tells me means my r's are hard and my a's are broad. Which could very well be true, since I don't think Hillary has an accent, either.

Breakfast or no breakfast: Monday-Friday, just a glass of milk and a can of Coke. Weekends, either a bowl of cereal or a big coffee shop breakfast with eggs as the centerpiece.

Chore I don’t care for: I don't really enjoy any chores. I hate, loathe, despise and abominate laundry, though.

Dog or Cat: Cat. Or cats. Today my best feline friend has been my big old black and white tub of guts, Joey. He's been very affectionate and attentive surrounding today's festivities. He has seemed more in tune to why our daily schedule was off and he's been very sweet about it. I've said it before -- Joey may be my dopiest cat, but he's my hero. He has an unfailingly sensitive, positive nature.

Essential Electronics: iPod.

Favorite Perfume: Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker

Gold or Silver: Silver

Handbag I carry most often: No such thing. I change my bags at least twice a week.

Insomnia: At times.

Job Title: Associate Creative Director

Kids: None

Living Arrangements: Me and the cats in the a 2BR condo

Most Admirable Trait: I'm strong like bull

Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: I was a "loud" child. "Keep it down!" "Shush!" "Will you PLEASE knock it off?"

Overnight hospital stays: In 2003. Removal of uterine fibroids. Much worse than today's festivities.

Phobias: Air travel. No, make that suddenly and violently aborted air travel.

Quote: The proverb, "What man has done, man can do."

Reason to smile: All the kindness and support I received yesterday and today in regards to the festivities.

Siblings: Two sisters with me in the middle

Time I wake up: 6:00 or 6:30 am

Unusual Talent or Skill: I can wiggle my right ear

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Uncooked tomatoes. Their consistency is just wrong and gives me the heebies jeebies.

Worst Habit: I can be a very lazy, lazy slug (A habit Ms. Kwiz and I share)

X-rays: Dental x-rays and an MRI

Yummy Stuff: Whoopie pies. Newly discovered and highly addictive (A vice Ms. Kwiz and I share)

Zoo Animal I Like Most: Okapi

If you want to play along, let me know so I can compare.

Clean as a whistle

That's really all I have to say about today's festivities. I'm tired, I have a caffeine headache, and yet I'm very grateful.

• My oldest friend actually took the day off to get me to and from the hosptial. She's a champ!
• I don't have to go through this again for TEN YEARS
• I am completely healthy, gastrointestinely speaking
• I was strengthened by all the good wishes floating my way from the blogosphere

Nap time!

Now THIS was a feel good

The hospital called about tomorrow's festivities. I was hoping they were calling to cancel. No such luck. They wanted information about my insurance, my next of kin and my religious affiliation. You know, just in case I DIE!!!!* I was hoping that when I told them I was a Unitarian, they would say, "we don't touch your kind here." No such luck.

*It's not the dying part that I'm unhappy about. My faith in Jesus and Heaven give me peace in that regard. However, even though I know He loves me no matter what, I really don't want to meet Him when I've got a tube up my ass!

I'm IT!

Cuz Lulu tagged me!

“Your ship has sunk. You have, of course, been stranded on a deserted island. You have salvaged a copy of the King James Version of the Bible and a copy of the complete works of Shakespeare. Nothing else.

“The very next day you find one of those Arabian Lamps in the sand. Of course, you rub it and, of course, a rather grumpy Genie appears.

“‘Let’s get this straight - there is a recession going on. There are restrictions on the three wishes now. I don’t do water or air transport now so no boats, planes or magic carpets. As for electronics, forget it. There isn’t the infrastructure on this island.

“‘I can let you have one book and I mean one VOLUME, one essential item and one luxury item. Now hurry up and make your choices, I have to get to those five other islands you are going to nominate.’”

Book -- JFK: Reckless Youth by Nigel Hamilton. This warts-and-all study of Kennedy is my favorite book of all time because it reinforces a valuable life lesson: no matter how good a life looks from the outside, you have no idea how it feels from the inside. Also, I may need some survival tips from the chapter on PT-109.

Essential -- Wilson the Soccer Ball. He has experience in situations like this.

Luxury Item -- LOTION! Unlimited moisturizer formulated without fragrance but a high SPF. I'm not turning into a prune for anyone!

Let me know if you play along. (Lulu and) I will want to see how you did.

Tuesday Tunes #15

Wednesday would have been George Harrison's 66th birthday, for our Tuesday Tunes, we're going to have a George theme.

What are 5 things that you like about George Harrison?

1. He was the funniest Beatle onscreen. By far. Remember the scene in A Hard Day's Night when he refers to the spokesmodel as "the posh bird who gets everything wrong? She's a drag. A well known drag. We turn the sound down on her and say rude things." Or when teaching Norm to shave, George instructed him to, "Put yer tongue away, it looks disgustin' hangin' out, all pink and naked." If these words don't look funny on the page, wait for them next time you watch the movie. George's timing was impeccable.

2. He didn't like Madonna, either. I have always believed all the best people dislike Madonna. His Handmade Films made Shanghai Surprise, possibly the worst movie Sean Penn will ever make, starring ol' Madge. I know this will shock you, but George regarded her as a difficult personality and a bad actress.

3. "Savoy Truffle." An ode to candy and a cautionary tale about toothaches.

4. He loved to play the ukulele.

5. The Concert for Bangla Desh. He originated the supergroup fundraiser.

Happy Birthday to George Harrison, The Scouse of Distinction.

To play along yourself, click here.

Busy! Busy! Busy!

Today I touched on three different projects! Everything went so smoothly that I wasn't even tempted to strangle anyone, or touch my secret stash of vodka! I appreciate this sudden flurry of activity because: 1) it distracts me from the joy that begins tomorrow night and 2) it makes me more confident about taking that vacation I booked. Because if I'm busy, I'm billable. If I'm billable, my agency gets more money ... and my paycheck is secure. Yea! (Yes, we were promised no more layoffs, but who knows what unforeseen fiscal maladies could plague us next. I like the reassurance.)

Watching the Oscars, I'm a little in love

Watching the Oscars tonight, I'm reminded that I love Robert Downey Jr.'s voice. I think it's because it reminds me of a former lover, and in only nice ways. I also love the way his attitude transcends his size (he's only about 5'8). I'm glad his career is back on track and I hope he stays clean, so I can stay a little in love with him for years to come.

I'm also reminded how much I loved Sydney Pollack's work, both as a director and as an actor. From This Property Is Condemned to The Way We Were to The Firm. As an actor, I loved him in both Michael Clayton and as Will's dad in Will and Grace. I was happy to see him remembered on the Oscars tonight.

And Paul Newman. It seems he was as well respected by his peers as he was well loved by all of us.

All this is why I love the Oscars.

Indulge me as I send my mind to the happy place

I'm dreaming of my vacation again. Dreaming is very important now, when I have to do laundry and wash the kitchen floor ... today, when I had to buy Gatorade, Dulcolax and Miralax in anticipation of Wednesday's "big event" ... it helps to concentrate on what's beautiful and luxurious. Like tonight's elegant women and handsome, tuxedoed men at the Oscars. And my upcoming spa vacation at Chateau Elan, just outside of Atlanta.

To help me set the scene, let me share the weather -- it's sunny and 25º warmer in Atlanta than it is here today -- and these photos. The robe-clad women eating heart-healthy food prepared by Chateau Elan's chefs are dining right there in the spa. The suites, where I'm staying, are in the hallway past the blonde. The spa treatments -- and my spa representative Larissa has two days of them scheduled for especially for me -- are performed down the hallway behind the gray-haired lady. Out the window you can see the gazebo, which is the centerpiece of the next photo. Isn't it great that I'll be right there on the water? From this vantage point, my suite appears on the far left and the spa itself is on the far right. Note the woman in the gazebo in her fluffy robe. It's perfectly acceptable, even encouraged, to wander around this building and the nearby grounds in the robe and flip-flops provided.

Much better than bleaching my whites down in the laundry room, isn't it? And certainly much, MUCH better than Wednesday!

The Blogthings Oscar Quiz

Thank you, Kwizgiver.

You Would Win Best Supporting Actor / Actress

You are a quirky, fascinating person. You understand the world well. There's no one quite like you. Your uniqueness leaves a strong impression on people. You are bold and willing to take risks. People may love or hate you, but at least they'll notice you. You are just different enough to make a great character actor. You can make a smaller part come alive.

What Would You Win an Oscar For?

It's Oscar Time

The Gal Herself shall return to the Academy Award telecast the way the swallows return to Capistrano, partly because I'm hot for Hugh Jackman, but also because it's the Oscars. It's glamour, it's history, it's Hollywood!

Of this year's crop of actresses, I can imagine Anne Hathaway dressed beautifully enough and moving gracefully enough to join these two in the pantheon of Oscar elegance. (Plus, her against-type performance in Rachel Getting Married could be as big a revelation as Grace Kelly's in The Country Girl, approx. a half century before.)

To make it even better, Jerry Lewis is scheduled to be honored with the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. One of my guiltiest guilty pleasures is listening to Jerry's incoherent and frequently offensive ramblings. I enjoy it so much and so wickedly that I give generously to MDA in an attempt to cleanse my conscience.

It was on again tonight

I have never seen My Cousin Vinny. But obviously the Cable Gods think it's desperately important that we all watch this movie, since it seems to be on every day.