Sunday, January 28, 2018

Sunday Stealing

The Quiz for Grown Ups

1. What bill do you hate paying the most? It would be unfair to the other bills to highlight just one.
2. What do you really want to be doing right now? Sleeping! For some reason, the heat went buggy overnight and predawn, my bedroom was so hot it woke me up. Now I wish I could get back to sleep.

3. Why did you choose the shirt you have on now? It's one of the oversized tshirts I wear as a nightshirt. I bought it at the Titanic exhibit in Vegas a few years back, because it amuses me. It's a boarding pass with the words, "Permission Granted to Come Aboard" stamped on it. If only some nice handsome someone would come aboard while I'm wearing it!

Yoo hoo! Mark Harmon! Permission Granted!

4. Thoughts on gas prices? Um ... Well ... I don't give a shit, really.

5. First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning. "What day is it?"

6. Last thought you have before you go to sleep? Depends on what happened during the day.

7. Do you miss being a child? Sometimes.

8. What errand/chore do you despise the most? Soon I have to organize my tax time paperwork. EW! ICK!

9. Up early or sleep in? On my perfect day, I'd like to get up early and then take a nap in the afternoon.

10. Favorite lunch meat? Ham

11. What do you get every time at Trader Joe’s? Their mac and cheese. It's only 99¢, and I'm told kids love it. So I always grab a box and drop it in the food pantry donation box on the way out. It's a painless way to help my neighbors.

12. Beach or lake? I do not understand this question. Lakes have beaches. Maybe it's supposed to be beach or pool? Lake or ocean? 

13. Ever crashed your vehicle? No vehicle.

14. Strangest place you've brushed your teeth? When I was in a long distance relationship, I'd brush my teeth in the airplane bathroom because I knew there'd be serious kissing at the gate.

15. Somewhere you've never been but want to go? New Orleans

16. At this point in your life would you want to start a new career? No. At this point, career talk scares the living shit out me.

17. Do you own your own house? At this point, JP Morgan Chase and I still share ownership.

18. Do you have a go-to person? For what, exactly? I need details before I can answer this.

19. Are you where you want to be in life? Well, I suppose. As that great philosopher Col. Sherman Potter, once said, "If you're not where you are, you're no place."

20. Growing up, what were your favorite cartoons? Either Mr. Magoo or Rocky and Bullwinkle.

21. What has changed since you were a child? I now have a bust and hips.

22. Looking back at high school, were they the best years of your life? NO! No no no no. Negatory.

23. Are there times you still feel like a kid? Yes. Every year when baseball starts again.

24. Did you have a pager? No. Do these even serve a purpose anymore?

25. Were you the type of kid you want your kids to hang out with? Yes.

A Cat Dies

You need to know this. If you are going to see The Shape of Water, there's a scene with a cat you do not want to watch. Look at the wall (as I did) or stare into your popcorn when Pandora the Cat hisses.

That's the only spoiler you will get from me regarding this fantasy film.

Instead I will tell you how beautiful it is. Greens and blues and (in one funny scene) teal. Sally Hawkins makes a sympathetic and ethereal heroine. Richard Jenkins is touching as her best friend -- though his subplot about a diner goes on tooooooo long and contributes to the movie clocking in at more than two hours.

I love Giles' and Elisa's apartments. They live above a struggling movie theater and they have big, arched windows that let in lots of light (natural and neon).

And yes, he is beautiful, too. He of the blue lights and green gills and mesmerizing eyes. Of course, I've always been a fan of The Creature from the Black Lagoon. I have a soft spot for your only-one-of-its-species aquatic reptiles.

Thank God for the Gold Guy

I remember last year, when I was obsessing about Envelopegate and last year's Best Picture Oscar, someone actually posted to Facebook, "It would be great if y'all quit talking about the Academy Awards, m'kay?"Apparently the only acceptable topic for right-minded Americans was how bad "Cheetoh Satan" (aka Trump) is.

I responded by posting a closeup of Warren Beatty's hand as he went on stage with the wrong envelope. Go fuck yourself, m'kay?

I need Oscar. Awards season comes around at just the moment that I miss baseball so much it aches almost physically. And I knew then, as I know now, that if Trump were to be impeached or resign,* it won't be until the first quarter of 2019. While I believe in my bones that our nation installed a dangerous manchild in The White House, I believe the center will hold and besides, I cannot be angry about it all day/every day.

The movies are my happy place, and Oscar is the movies' sacrament. This time of year, there is little as dependably joyful, engrossing and therefore distracting as the race to the Academy Awards.

Right now, I am surrounded by sad. My boss hasn't been showing up at the office because his adult son is in the grips of manic/depression and Asperger's. My art director spends every day on the phone to her siblings, wondering what to do about their father's burgeoning and very expensive love affair with his con artist/caregiver, and then she reports to me on every conversation. I try to be sympathetic, but it's hard because:

1) Every conversation goes the same way. "And he's going to do what he's going to do." To which I say, "Then you have to involve the authorities." And she says, "But the police won't do anything." And I say, "Not the police, a judge. Get him declared incompetent. Talk to a lawyer." Blah blah blah. I know she's just working it through, and I should be more patient, except ...

2) This woman is not especially empathethic. I remember asking her advice when my friend Mindy was coming to grips with her mother being in hospice. My coworker said, "I'd ask her what she gets out of talking about this when she can't change it." So it's everything in me not to ask her what she gets out of talking about this when she refuses to change it.

3) I still see signs that we are on the verge of losing our jobs, and there are things we could be doing together to prepare, and she refuses. She tells me to stop worrying about it. Regarding this -- you know, something she could actually be working on -- it seems, my worry is futile.

Since, with open seating, we sit on top of one another, it's impossible for me not to affected by my boss and my art director. So, when I get away from the office, I just want to decompress. To withdraw. To enjoy.

To go to the movies. And at Oscar time, the best movies are in theaters. So at Oscar time, this fat ass is in a seat.

*And I still think he will be impeached or resign.