Monday, March 23, 2009

Yahoo's 100 Movies ...

It was bound to happen one of these days

After all, I've been a professional writer for decades now. And today was the day the inevitable occurred. I finally ran out of words.

This morning we got a new project and we are scheduled to show my boss our efforts on Wednesday AM. But alas, I have no ideas.

Zero. Zilch. Nothing. Nada. Diddly-Squat.

I may have used all my words up over the weekend when I worked on the other project. Perhaps all I need is to replenish my word tank. Maybe if I busy myself with mindless tasks (like labeling a new file folder for the project), inspiration will strike ...

Manic Monday #23

Do you screen your phone calls? Yes. I feel it's more polite than hanging up on a telemarketer. (To paraphrase Horton Hears a Who, "people are people, no matter if they're telemarketers.") If I'm wrong and it really was a call I needed to take, they'll leave a message and I can call them back.

When was the last time you lost your temper? Last week a crazy man went off on me at the el platform. He called me the "c-word" and a "douchebag." I was very angry and upset, but was determined not to let him see that he got to me. So I responded, as evenly as I could, "I prefer twat." He kept raging at me. It was very upsetting. I realize I'll never know what set him off, I'll never see him again and I don't care what he thinks of me, but I hate when people like that burrow their ways into my life. Women on the el platform were very nice to me and said things like, "Your day will get better," and "Don't worry, he's just nuts."

When you're lost, do you ask for directions? Yes. I frequently don't understand the directions either because I have no sense of direction. But I try.

To play along yourself, click here.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

I'm working. Is she? (Updated)

It's a beautiful day outside. Sunny and 60º. My livingroom windows are open and I can hear the kids next door playing. I would love to be playing with my nephew, who came in second with his Yellow Submarine Pinewood Derby car. But no, I'm working, juggling a writing assignment and my laundry since 2:30.

Please don't view the above paragraph as a complaint, for it's not. My months-long fear of being laid off hasn't been entirely obliterated. In this economy, in my industry, too much work is far, far better than not having enough.

I'm grumpy because I'm worried about something I can't control. Is the art director also assigned to this project -- the weepy one who gives me agita -- also working on it this fine Sunday? I told her to. She promised she would. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

For her latest boyfriend broke up with her Thursday night. I found out about it when I got in on Friday morning. My boss told me. He told me to "do what it takes to get work out of her." He said he saw "hugs in my future." Yes, upon coming into the office on Friday morning, she unburdened herself to our boss. It was, in his words, "another knot in the noose."

Now my boss is not a hard-hearted man. But she has not been working to the best of her capabilities for nearly two years now. First it was tears because her husband was cheating on her, then it was tears because they got a divorce. Then it was hangovers and sleepy time as she got over her divorce by staying out late and acting like a 20-something when she's really just a breath away from 50. Now it's staring off into space and starting to cry unexpectedly because her boy toy "moved out." (It's important to note they weren't living together; they weren't that serious. All he had to take were a couple of shirts and his toothbrush.)

I gave her a pep talk on Friday. "Let's have this project done for Monday morning! Won't it be great to show everyone what you can do when your back is to the wall? Aren't you LUCKY that Chris won't be around to distract you?" Rah! Rah rah!

The due dates for this project are hard and fast. A new one is being kicked off tomorrow morning. It would be nice to know that she cares. The irony is that she really does like this job. Our agency is well known within the industry, and she is proud of having an office that overlooks Lake Michigan. It's the sense that she no longer has to prove herself, that somehow is entitled to it that I don't understand.

I suppose if we were really friends I should call her, check up on her, make sure she's okay emotionally and on track professionally. But she makes me too crazy. She has very passive-aggressive ways of letting me know that she doesn't really like me, or at least that she feels competitive, and I don't feeling like getting a dose of hurt feelings on top of this exasperation.

Oh well. Venting feels good but it's not getting my porttion of the project done, is it?

THIS JUST IN! It's Monday morning and she did work over the weekend. Yea! Sometimes it's spectacularly great to be wrong!

A barren spinster's reflection on matrimony

My best friend's sister-in-law (wife's sister) felt her husband slipping away. She was sure her man was too fond of his career and his grown-up toys (electronics, new car and a private plane) and ignoring her and their toddler son. So she told him she had a fling, that she slipped away for an overnighter, under the guise of a business trip, with a coworker from another city who was desperately attracted to her. She referred to her one-nighter as "Plan B." Her husband moved out and began dating. She is distraught because there was no "Plan B." She made the story up to make him jealous, to make him value her more because other men wanted her. She and her coworker did go away together on a business trip, but nothing went on between them. Her husband doesn't believe she made it up, and there is no hope for reconciliation.

These two are in their late 30s, college-educated, professionally successful, and complete dolts.

My oldest friend, a woman, was upset because her lover forgot they had plans for Sweetest Day. I recommended that she just tell him he hurt her feelings. How could he know she was hurt if she doesn't tell him? Another friend of hers -- a married woman in her 40s -- advised her to give him the silent treatment, to freeze him out until he begs her to tell him what he did wrong. I don't understand the effort that goes into the manipulation. I'm also reasonably sure that in my oldest friend's case, it would fail because he wouldn't notice "the silent treatment."

What's with these marriages? Tricking your man into believing you're wanted by other men, punishing him with the silent treatment?

When I hear these Lucy/Ricky tales, I am very glad to be a barren spinster. Because if this is what marriage is like, I don't want it. Oh, I love Lucy, but I remember that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz ultimately divorced in real life.

Three Dead Presidents



Look what I won in this week's Illinois State Lottery. Sure, I had to spend $2 to make $3, but that's a shitload better than my 401 (k) is doing. Perhaps I should put my faith in chance ...

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Partying with the other half

My friend Kathleen has been involved with a challenging but fascinating man for quarter of a century. They have been married 20 years now, have two very good kids (a boy getting ready for college and a girl about to enter high school in the fall) and have weathered their ups and downs. The thing of it is, though, even when they have found their relationship frustrating, their mutual respect for one another (and, of course, love) has seen them through.

Over the last five years or so, her career has really taken off. She's made it to VP in an internationally known company and is making plenty of money. In exchange for that paycheck, she works very hard. His role these past few years has been to manage the household funds -- saving for their retirement and paying college tuition for two kids -- and cleaning his and other people's homes. Her husband prefers working independently so he cleans a couple houses each week -- his clients aren't at home and he can schedule his assignments so he's home by the time his kids get home. The extra money (about $12,000/year) helps, too.

This arrangement was originally his idea, and Kathleen went along with it because she believes that the best gift she can give her kids is happily married parents. She got her own basic optimism and security from growing up in a stable home, anchored by her parents' own strong marriage.

Only their arrangement doesn't seem to be working for him anymore. She's become more successful, with added responsibilities and a progressively bigger check, while he's stuck in a rut. He can do his houses almost on automatic pilot, and the kids are older and more independent now. He believes (and he may be right) that they primarily need their daddy now to ferry them to and from after school events and friends' homes.

He's more easily aggravated by day-to-day things, especially their dog. (Their very sweet-natured dog occasionally has an accident indoors, or sheds on furniture he's been told not to jump on ... the usual hassles that come with pet ownership.) He no longer has an independent network of friends, and his family all lives in England.

Kathleen has decided he's lonely. Kathleen has decided he needs to hang out with me.

And so last night the three of us went to a play by the neighborhood theater group. Kathleen knows the star from church, and most of the audience (except for her husband and me) were parishioners. Afterwards we went out for drinks at a popular local watering hole and I asked him what I thought was the obvious question -- How did a nice, devout Catholic girl and a cynical agnostic agree to raise their children in the Church? (His answer: It was more important to her than to him.) Then he told me a rather harrowing story about his childhood and how, when he was just 9, his dad died. This, and living in England during the most violent years of the English/IRA confrontations, colored his feelings about God and religion.

Kathleen looked at us so proudly as we compared/contrasted our views on faith (I'm way less conventional than she is, yet far more devout than he is).

He's awkward with small talk, and so am I. Since, through Kathleen and our infrequent meetings over the years, we already knew about one another's education and professional backgrounds, so we could dispense with that. We talked about matters of gravity, yet he was very amusing. We also talked about the Beatles and the upcoming local election.

I had a nice time with them. I know Kathleen was pleased that he and I chatted so animatedly and comfortably (being in one of my favorite bars, enjoying a flirtini, helps). I don't know that the three of us will make going out a regular event, but I wouldn't mind. I enjoyed it, she enjoyed it, but it's hard to tell definitively if he enjoyed it.

Saturday 9 -- Crank Up the Tunes


1. What is your favorite 50’s band? The Everly Brothers

2. What is your favorite 60’s band? The Beatles

3. What is your favorite 60’s record album? The Beatles' White Album

4. What is your favorite 70’s band? Wings

5. What is your favorite 70’s record album? Band on the Run (Wings)

6. What is your favorite 80’s band? Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band

7. What is your favorite 80’s record album? The End of the Innocence (Don Henley)

8. What is your favorite 90’s band? Del Amitri

9. What is your favorite 90’s record album? Hatful of Rain (Del Amitri)

To play along yourself, visit: Saturday 9: Crank Up the Tunes

Friday, March 20, 2009

A meme to cleanse my mental palette

I've worked rather hard the last two days and am feeling kind of fried. So I have liberated this meme from Ms. Mo (she who loves hounds and her hubs) and am using it as mental sorbet.
  • Link to the person who tagged you (that would be Mo)
  • Post 7 things about yourself that people may not know
  • Tag 7 other people and link to them
  • Leave a comment for each of them on their blogs to let them know they’ve been tagged

1. I really only had one beer in my life before I turned 34. That was the year my dad died and before the wake, one of my friends took me out and ordered me a beer. For some reason I no longer hated the taste and have been drinking it ever since.

2. I have dated -- statistically speaking -- an inordinate number of parochial school Catholic boys. I suspect this means something, but I'm not sure what. It's not like I wear plaid skirts and knee socks.

3. My best friend recently described me as "optimistic, curious and sentimental." I think he's right, but I'm also reasonably sure not many people know it.

4. Even if given the opportunity, I would never want to meet Paul McCartney. I have loved him since I was 6 years old, and I don't see how he could possibly live up to 45 years of foreplay.

5. I feel very bad about the bat on the Space Shuttle Discovery. (I have far more compassion for him than that damn Octo Mom.)

6. I find it fascinating that Lou Dobbs can do an entire hour of talk TV without revealing his upper teeth.

7. Sometimes I think the fictional character most like me is Jane Craig (Holly Hunter) in Broadcast News. I can be so together professionally and so ... not together in my personal life.

(Stolen verbatim from Mo.) Now, I'm not gonna tag anybody for this one, cause...well, cause I don't feel like it - but, if you're here, readin' this...well then, consider yourself "tagged"...

Thursday, March 19, 2009

When life imitates art

In Love, Actually, Liam Neeson plays a widower who is trying to rebuild his life and raise his stepson alone after the untimely death of his wife. Since I heard about Natasha Richardson's death, the movie keeps running through my head. So sad.

God, I love the Cubs!

"On May 3, the Cubs will retire No. 31 in honor of the two pitchers, one a Hall of Famer, the other a future Cooperstown resident." MLB.com

I grew up watching Fergie Jenkins pitch. Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that I simply adore future Hall of Famer Greg Maddux. They both wore #31 as Cubs. Now that both of these fabulous pitchers have retired, the Cubs are doing right by them and retiring the jersey #31.

While I miss Greg Maddux something fierce during this, the first spring training in decades that I haven't followed his progress, I do love the continuity this represents for me. Because my Grandma was a lifelong Cub fan, and her favorite player of all time, Ryne Sandberg, is one of just a handful of Cubs in team history to have his number retired. Whenever I see that white pennant with 23 printed on it flying over the park, I think of my Grandma and how she loved her Ryno. Now perhaps someday my nephew (now just 9) will take one of his kids to Wrigley Field and point to a white pennant bearing the #31 and tell his kid, "You know, my aunt really loved the Professor, Greg Maddux."

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Thursday Thirteen #101 -- Thirteen Teen Dreams

Not many people remember the name Gloria Stavers, but if you were a girl in junior high school between 1958 and 1975, the odds are good that you were familiar with her work. For those were the years that she was the editor of 16 Magazine, the teen magazine that brought us as close as possible to our heart throbs.16 had the best interviews, and the best, most kissable color pin-ups -- perfect for decorating my locker door and bedroom wall.

Here are 13 of the most prominent boy toys to grace 16's pages during Gloria's time at the helm. I was madly in love with some of them (Paul McCartney, Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy) and a little in love with others (Raider Mark Lindsey). Enjoy this trip down memory lane, and the memories of a simpler time.

WHO WAS YOUR BUBBLEGUM CRUSH? Please let me know in the comments. I'm especially curious about who guys loved, pure and chaste from afar, when they were 11, 12 or 13.

1) Elvis Presley
2) Rick Nelson
3) Paul Petersen
4) Paul Anka
5) The Beatles
6) The Dave Clark 5
7) Herman's Hermits
8) The Monkees
9) Paul Revere and the Raiders
10) The Osmond Brothers
11) The Jackson 5
12) Bobby Sherman
13) David Cassidy


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

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!

Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Stolen from a silly little freak ...

Who goes by the name of Snarky Pants.

1.) You’re on a trip taking a tour through the jungle. You have a backpack with some food, some first aid supplies, a pocket knife, a flashlight and a couple bottles of water. Somehow, you get separated from your group. By night fall you haven’t found your group and haven’t heard them looking for you. How long do you think you would be able to survive on your own?

A couple of days. On the plus side of the ledger, I'm very independent and I don't panic. Now for the debits: I have NO sense of direction whatsoever and cannot stand the heat. I'd do well to live by Mrs. McGinnis' words of wisdom (an imposing dragon of a woman, she was my Girl Scout leader for several years) and just stay put until someone finds me.

2.) Do you think it’s okay to lie to spare someone’s feelings? Why?

Yes. I do it all the time. Most things aren't worth hurting someone's feelings over. On the other hand, I tend to be insensitive because I often just don't get it. For example, I was dating a very hot guy who was a bit taller than I am, so I guessed him to be 5'5. He was so good looking and so very good in bed and had such a terrific voice that it never occurred to me that his height bothered him. One day I asked, "When did you realize you were always going to be short?" Oh ... my ... God! He actually flinched as though I thrown water in his face. I felt terrible about it.

3.) If a talking Gal doll were made, what are THREE phrases it would say?

a. The thing of it is ...
b. What the fuuuuuuuck?
c. I'd rather remove my own spleen with a butter knife.

4.) If the super power to be able to read minds at your own will were possible, do you think it would be… cool and helpful, intrusive and wrong, manipulative or maddening? Explain why you would or wouldn’t want to be able to read anyone’s mind at your own will.

I'd prefer it if I could read my cats' minds. I think that would be great fun. However, if it's limited to people, I'd only want to do it while on the train or bus, when I'm bored. I think it would be highly entertaining. I'd probably give in to temptation and do it more often though, and then feel bad because it would be intrusive and wrong. I tend to be very private and would hate having someone do it to me.

5.) RE: Drunk confessions, are they the things people can’t bring themselves to say sober or just crazy ramblings of an influenced and intoxicated mind?

Yes.

6.) What brings out the worst in you?

Bullies. I hate bullies. A coworker once nicknamed me "Avenger Bunny" because nothing sets me off like witnessing bullying. It's the duty of the bigger to help the smaller in this world, and I cannot stand it when that world order gets knocked on its side.

7.) Do you think long distance relationships work? Have you ever been in one before?

Yes. I was in one for years and it was the happiest time of my life. Of course, I think it helped that, according to my shrink, I have a deep-seated fear of genuine intimacy, so you shouldn't go by me. I'm not a well woman.

If you choose to play, let me know so I can compare our answers.


Two very different slices of life

Often at the health club, I zone out and inhabit my own little world. Today, for some reason, I was more engaged with my surroundings and was eavesdropping. What I overheard reiterated how diverse my day-to-day is.

While dressing, I listened in on two big -- VERY BIG, like big enough to make me look slender -- young women discussing what a pain it is to bail someone out of jail. They make you wait forever, yet you can't smoke in there (nor in any public building in Illinois) nor use your phone -- not even to text!

Then while I was on the exercise bike, I heard two absolutely fantastically made up young women talking about refinancing their homes. They were breathlessly batting financial institutions and APRs back and forth as their feet spun round and round on the pedals.

I estimate all four women were about the same age (25 to 30), in the same health club, undoubtedly live and work within a half hour of one another, and yet lead completely different lives. My life is nothing like any of theirs. "There are nearly 3 millions stories in the Windy City ..."

Puppies and Parvo

One of Oprah's puppies has died, and his littermate, also adopted by Oprah, is very ill. The culprit? The Canine Parvovirus.

Aside from the heartache attached to this -- something everyone who has ever shared their life with a critter can relate to -- this is a tragedy because Oprah used these adoptions and the publicity they received to highlight America's shelter pets. If the fate that has befallen Ivan and Sadie discourages anyone from giving a shelter animal a home, that would make this sad situation even worse.


PAWS (Pets are Worth Saving) is a good shelter. They treat the furry little souls in their care with kindness and are stringent in their adoption procedures. They help the community with all kinds of good works, including a Pet Food Bank to assist those who are struggling in this economy but can't bear to give up their pets. In short, they are the Good Guys. But parvo is a tenacious virus and it's difficult to successfully vaccinate a puppy against it if it was exposed by the mother.

It happens. It's sad and it's rare, but it happens. It's not the risk you run by rescuing a shelter dog, it's the risk you run by giving your heart to a dog. That shouldn't stop you from considering adopting a dog like Barley, the handsome PAWS resident shown here. Look at that face! Doesn't he deserve the love and security that comes with having a home?

The unfortunate fact is that there are no sure things in life, except death. It takes courage and faith to give any animal a forever home, for in the back of our minds we know that our hearts will break when the relationship ends too soon. PAWS can't be blamed for that.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Idol Observation

Tonight Danny sang "Jesus, Take the Wheel." To cover a Carrie Underwood song on the Idol stage takes balls, and he delivered. I've never enjoyed Danny this much before.

Adam did a sitar-driven version of "Ring of Fire" that was bizarre but fun. If I were calling in, I'd vote for Adam. He sure as shit was original!

Anoop sang "Always on My Mind." No fair, that song always gets to me. Mentor Randy Travis said it was a risky song choice because he can't get Willie Nelson out of his mind. Not me. It's Elvis' version that's tattooed on my soul. Anoop isn't Elvis, but isn't that too much to expect? Anoop's version was dear and sweet.

The women were all completely forgettable, which doesn't make sense. It's country week, after all, and country music has such a rich history of kick-ass divas. One of this week's contestants even performed "Walkin' After Midnight" and all it inspired from me was a yawn (and a nod to her lip gloss, which was lovely).

Randy Travis is so gray! When did that happen?

Going it alone

I just found out this afternoon that my theater buddy can't make it tomorrow. She has a sudden, crunch project and predicts she will have to work until long after the curtain goes up at 7:30. So I'm going alone.

It's Mary Poppins, for pity's sake! I love Mary Poppins. She looms large in my legend. I can't miss the opportunity to see her live.

This is awfully last minute for me to find a seatmate, and I don't feel like it. I wanted to see it with my theater buddy because she completely loves musicals, and I'd rather see it alone than with someone who won't totally appreciate it like she and I would. So I'm honoring our dinner reservation but I'm bringing a book instead of my theater buddy, and then I'm going to the theater. Alone. And I'm looking forward to it.

What I am not looking forward to is tomorrow at the office, when coworkers see me dressed for theater and ask, "So who are you going with?" If I tell them I'm going alone, they will look at me with horrible pity, like I'm friendless. I don't like to lie, but that's what I'm going to do.

Why do people always assume that if you're alone, you're lonely? Why do others force me into a defensive position, just because I like my own company? Sometimes I wish well-meaning people would just leave me ... well ... alone.

The Bradford Family Curse

Eight Is Enough ran from 1977 to 1981. Patriarch Tom Bradford was played by Dick Van Patten, one of the wussiest and whiniest father figures ever to grace a TV screen. He and his first wife, Joan (Diana Hyland), had 8 kids -- David, Mary, Susan, Joanie, Nancy, Tommy, Elizabeth and Nicholas. After Joan's death, Tom remarried Abby, played by Broadway great Betty Buckley.

The real lives of some of the castmembers was far, far more dramatic than anything we saw on the small screen.

DIANA HYLAND: Joan Bradford. After shooting the first 9 episodes, she died of breast cancer. She was just 41 and left behind a young son and her lover, John Travolta. On her behalf he accepted the posthumous Emmy Award she won for playing his mother in Boy in Plastic Bubble.

LANI O'GRADY: Mary Bradford. The sister of Don Grady ("Robbie" on My Three Sons), Lani came from a showbiz family. Yet working before the cameras was stressful for her, resulting in debilitating panic attacks. She required prescription meds for the wherewithal to leave her trailer and perform. Eventually she became addicted to the pills, and liquor, too. After multiple stints in rehab she gave up acting and worked as a recovery counselor. Tragically, she suffered a relapse and in 1998 she checked herself into the mental health ward of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles for detox. While there, she was sexually assaulted by a medical technician and sued the hospital. She died in 2001 at the age of 47.

SUSAN RICHARDSON: Susan Bradford. She really didn't act much after Eight Is Enough was cancelled because ... um ... people thought she was nuts and wouldn't hire her. Most notably she claimed that Korean film makers kidnapped her, cut off all her hair, and forced her to appear in their movie. Then in 1999, she suffered a nervous breakdown, was hospitalized and place on suicide watch. Not long after her release she moved to Pennsylvania, where she got a job at a nursing home.

WILLIE AAMES: Tommy Bradford. After the show was cancelled, he fell victim to cocaine and booze. He blames his addictions, as well as sexual abuse as a very young boy, for his suicide attempts. Upon completing a 12 step program, he found religion, turned his life around and launched a second career as Bible Man, starring in a series of Christian videos for kids.

ADAM RICH: Nicholas Bradford. Buckle your seatbelts, for this is the roughest ride of all. After the show ended, he went back to school but promptly dropped out. Then, over a 20 year span, he was arrested for drugs, DUI, breaking and entering, and shoplifting. In the early 1990s, he broke into a pharmacy in an attempt to get drugs. He called Dick Van Patten to come bail him out, and Adam's friends were hopeful that he had turned a corner. No such luck. He was arrested again 2002 for drunk driving (he just missed hitting a police car).

Just writing this made me want to take a nap. I'm sooooo glad to be just an average ol' gal!

Tuesday Tunes #20 -- St. Patrick's Day Edition

Tell us your favorite Irish band/album/song and why you like them.

I am going to completely manipulate this week's meme to suit my purposes. For one of my favorite people in the history of the planet is the oldest son of Mary Patricia Mohan and her husband James ... McCartney. Both Jim and Mary were Irish-Catholic, children of immigrant stock. And so I am devoting this week's Tuesday Tunes to James Paul, or Paulie, or Junior, or Macca. Or, as he is known in some circles, Sir Paul.

Favorite Irish Band: The Beatles. Today, they are so an Irish band! For their genesis was at the Woolton Parish Church picnic ("Garden Fete") in 1957 when Mary Patricia's and James' boy was introduced to some slightly inebriated older kid who was performing there that day. Perhaps you've heard of him. Last name was Lennon.

Favorite Irish Album: Of his solo work, I like Flowers in the Dirt (1990). So many of the songs have become quite dear to me. "My Brave Face," "Put It There," "My Brave Face" ... and two of Sir Paul's sexier songs appear here -- "Rough Ride" and "You Want Her, Too" (with Elvis Costello).

Favorite Irish Song: I like both "My Brave Face" and "Fine Line" from Chaos and Creation (2005) better than the unicorn song by the Irish Rovers.

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

Monday, March 16, 2009

I worry about this

It's almost midnight, and I'm still getting emails from my best friend. Something went very wrong on one of his projects last week. He was on the road, so I don't see how it can be his fault. But it was his client and his project. If the client decides to walk, it may put his job in jeopardy. Staying up and worrying about it NOW won't help, but I understand why he's so upset.

"In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun ...

You find the fun and snap! The job's a game."

So sang Mary Poppins. That's why I believe she would approve of my unorthodox approach to scrubbing the grout between the tiles on my bathroom floor.

I went in there with my Sonic Scrubber, cleanser, and a tumbler of vodka and fruit juice. Scrub a little, swig a little, scrub a little, swig a little. It wasn't exactly a spoonful of sugar, but it did the trick. I stuck with it for an hour and got about halfway done.

Tomorrow I hope Mary (and Stoli) will inspire me to finish the job.

Nerdier than some ...

... like Kwizgiver, for example.


I am nerdier than 27% of all people. Are you a nerd? Click here to take the Nerd Test, get geeky images and jokes, and write on the nerd forum!

Monday Movie Meme #3

This week is devoted to war movies. It occurs to me as I list my favorites that there really aren't many battle scenes here. But you can't argue that these movies aren't about the horrors of war and the resiliency of the human spirit when faced with it.

In Country. 1989. Bruce Willis' best performance in a moving film about the painful aftermath of Viet Nam.

Shenandoah. 1965. Jimmy Stewart tries to hold his family together, even as the country is torn apart by Civil War.

Mister Roberts. 1955. Henry Fonda shows the heroic, albeit often dull, side of war as he serves on a supply ship during WWII.

Casablanca. 1942. During WWII, Rick Blaine teaches us that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

And, of course Gone with the Wind. 1939. The first time I saw Scarlett go off in search of Dr. Meade to help her deliver Melanie's baby, and witnessed her stepping over all those dead and dying boys, the human waste of war was seared into my consciousness.

To play along yourself, click here.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Scrubbing the sink

And the tub. And the shower walls. And the floor. And the toilet tank. I'll take care of the toilet bowl itself in a bit. (Even though the bottle says it's green and safe, I want to give the bathroom a little time to air out before I add that cleanser to the mix.)

I have the world's tiniest bathroom, and yet it took an hour! Because I hate housework and am not particularly good at it, I always feel virtuous when I complete a task.

I KNOW why I'm watching this one


I have errands to run and chores to do. Yet I'm watching this TV Guide countdown of film's sexiest men of all time. Denzel ... Clooney ... Brando ... Redford ... Gable ... I just heard the narrator use the phrase, "spectacularly sexy." Yes, at their best, they all were. How can I run errands or take out the trash when I'm swooning?

"Sunday Mornings Mean George"


So say the ABC promos, and I must agree. I was once unshakably loyal to Meet the Press, but that was because of the late, lamented Tim Russert. David Gregory isn't Tim Russert, not by a long shot. Nor is he as attractive as George Stephanopolous (not by a long shot).

In addition to being a cutie, Stephanopolous knows Washington and has real, informed history with many in the current administration. His dismal performance in the Democratic Presidential debates made me nervous about how he would handle the Obama White House. But I watched him with Larry Summers this morning and felt he did a fine job (and I loved his bright tie, too.)

Saturday, March 14, 2009

My favorite sale of the year

Whether it's known as Carson's or BonTon or Bergner's in your neck of the woods, this department store is having a special sale to support Goodwill. Donate your gently used clothes or linens in store and receive a coupon worth 20% off for each item you bring in! I donated two sets of clean, reusable bath towels and ended up with NINE coupons.

I love coupons. I love helping Goodwill. So I love this sale.

Clinique Repairwear
Lovely Body Lotion
A belt
A Macintosh New England raincoat
Gray slacks
A peasant blouse (Clinton Kelly would recommend the empire waist for me, I just know it)
Three blouses (pink, black and pale blue)

That accounts for my 9 Goodwill coupons. Those nine towels turned into $95.38, and I'm pleased with all my purchases. I believe I'm just about done shopping for spring, and I'm happy to know I contributed to the "Million Acts of Goodwill."

I'm going to the mall this weekend. Will you come with me?

This is Clinton Kelly from TLC's What Not to Wear. I think I love him. He's honest, but sweet. And as he delivers the "why you need a makeover" blows -- whether watching the secret footage or going through your closet or critiquing in front of the 360º mirror -- he always gently touches the focus of his attention. Adjusting her collar, squeezing her shoulder ... He knows that what he's saying can hurt and he always tries to soften the impact. I love his empathy.

I am sprucing up my spring wardrobe as part of the Carson's/Goodwill sale. I wish my favorite fantasy friend, Clinton, was coming along.

Why am I even bothering to watch?

The TV Guide channel is counting down the sexiest female film stars of all time. I believe we all know who will come in at #1.

Part of why I love believing in Heaven is that it's so comforting. Norma Jean Baker -- unwanted, unloved, mousey, insecure, dead longer than she was alive -- is still worshipped, imitated and adored. I love believing that she knows it, sees it and can enjoy it.

Tomorrow morning is devoted to the men. Now that one has a little more suspense attached, doesn't it? Clooney? Pitt? Redford? Newman? Right now, my personal vote would go to Hugh Grant. But my fave in this department changes more often than my handbags. Fantasy is fun, isn't it?

Friday, March 13, 2009

Greetings from the corner of Weird but Sweet

My neighbor at the end of the hall is a lonely retiree who gives me waaaaay too much thought. So when he startled me in the laundry room this afternoon and said, "May I ask you a personal question?" I knew we would begin traveling down Weird Street.

"Why have you never married?"

Oh, good. I was sick this morning. Do I really need to deal with this now?

I responded politely that I was almost married once but didn't want to move to Philadelphia. It sounded true because it was almost true, and I thought this would end the conversation.

No, he told me the story of his one great love, and his biggest regret. This is where we make a sharp turn and unexpectedly end up on Sweet Avenue.

When he was away at college (during the 1940s), he saw a girl at the grocery store who took his breath away. He saw her again a few days later at a public swimming pool. He was showing off his diving technique and her friend asked him to show her how to execute a dive. He said he would ... if she introduced him to her friend.

They dated twice, and on the second date he took photos of her. Then she had to go home to Mississippi. He wrote her a letter, followed by roses. She responded by inviting him to spend the weekend with her (and her family, he hastened to add) in Mississippi. He was so happy and excited. He showed her photo around the dorm and told everyone about the upcoming trip.

One of his dorm mates told him how to treat a girl if you love her. Walt didn't go into detail (thank goodness!) but I suspect it was suggested he dial up the machismo. Since the guy doling out the advice was successful with the ladies, Walt adopted his techniques.

It was a disaster. He acted like someone he wasn't, someone his girlfriend didn't know or like. He came home on the bus broken hearted. They broke up, and he's never been in love "like that" again. (I don't know if he's never been involved with a woman again -- he didn't say and I didn't ask).

I told him he should write this story out, maybe that would help him feel more peaceful about it. To trust that these things all work out for the best. Maybe she married and had kids, and one of those kids saved lives. I didn't know what else to say.

I was very uncomfortable with the conversation, but I have to admit, it's a great story, isn't it?

I enjoyed the evening. It's the aftermath that's bad.

Last night, my friend Kathleen and I went to see A Bronx Tale, the one-man show starring Chazz Palminteri. The man prowls the stage like a jungle animal, playing every one of the characters -- including himself from age 9 to 19. It's well-staged and very moving, and Palminteri's accomplishment cannot be overstated. This is a 90-minute monologue that bounces from comedy to drama, romance to action. He didn't even stop for a drink of water!

Before the play we had dinner and I ordered the most delicious Maple Grilled Duroc Pork Chop (with sour cream mashed potatoes, bacon, apple cider reduction).

I began paying for it at about 4:00 this morning. In addition to the unpleasant gastrointestinal result, I had a fever, which kinda scared me so I took today off. After noon and still in my pajamas! But at least I'm feeling better.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Feeling stronger every day

Yes, I've managed to maintain my enthusiasm for exercise since Monday's ah-ha! moment. And no, that isn't my arm.

I've only worked out at the health club twice this week. But instead of simply vegging when I get home, I now work out a bit on my thigh trainer*, usually during commercials. I do tummy twists or arm rotations every now and again, too. While I don't think these efforts entitle me to move my exercycle (at right), they do make me feel better in my head and in heart. I am doing something. I am taking control. Maybe I won't die a fat pigeon with no sex life after all.

*I have a very dirty mind and I'm rather sex obsessed these days, so please don't ask what I'm training my thighs to do.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Thursday Thirteen #100 -- The Best Albums of the 1980s


THE 13
"BEST ALBUMS OF THE 1980s"

THAT MADE IT
TO MY COLLECTION


Between this week's Michael Jackson-themed American Idol and the recent Tuesday Tunes, I've been thinking a lot about the 80s. The good people at Rolling Stone made a long and exhaustive list of the 100 best albums of the 1980s. I reviewed it, and rather than give you their top 13 (many of which I don't even remember; I'm so unhip), I decided to let you know which 13 of their list I actually purchased.

The number that leads into the album title is the designation given to it by Rolling Stone, not by this Gal. And remember, RS was ranking the albums in terms of quality and influence, not sales (which explains why there's no Rick Astley). In all, I recall the 1980s as a very good decade for music -- and Bruce Springsteen.

2. Purple Rain - Prince & The Revolution
5. Graceland - Paul Simon
6. Born In The U.S.A. - Bruce Springsteen
7. Thriller - Michael Jackson
16. 1999 - Prince
25. Tunnel Of Love - Bruce Springsteen
29. Double Fantasy - John Lennon & Yoko Ono
34. Tattoo You - The Rolling Stones
47. Private Dancer - Tina Turner
70. Travelling Wilburys Vol. 1 - Travelling Wilburys
75. She's So Unusual - Cyndi Lauper
81. 1984 - Van Halen
86. The River - Bruce Springsteen

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

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!

Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

I am a Benevolent Visionary

I Hate Her

I do. Hate her.

SHE would be the hideous woman who cheated on my Adorable Friend, broke his heart, and is making their divorce drag on and on and on because she is a lawyer and knows the system so well. She also has one bitchin' sense of entitlement for a woman who cheated on him and broke his heart.

My Adorable Friend was let go at 9:00 this morning. By 9:36, he was at home, calling me for contacts. He doesn't have time to mourn the loss of this job. He has to get a new job right away because he is busy doing battle with her, and courtroom battles are expensive.

As a married couple, they had two (now still very small) children and a ton of possessions. She seems to be so obsessed with winning that she's forgotten to differentiate between the two. He's afraid that she will use his now unemployed status to demean him as a father/provider in the eyes of the court.

Thank you for letting me vent. Telling him how appalled and angry I am at her does no good right now. He's feeling desperate, and the only thing that will comfort him today is the kind of activity that feels like problem-solving. But he is too good a man, too devoted a dad, for this to be happening and it makes me sooooooo mad!