Okay, I don't have to wait anymore to revel in the glory that is COLLEGE FOOTBALL!! The season openers begin tomorrow, and I'm pumped now!! Last night, I watched a little bit of the College Gameday preview. Of course, they talked about Texas first (because we rock). And I got just as excited as I do every year! I wanted to hoop and holler and jump around my living room and hear "Texas Fight!" and hold up my Hook 'em Horns and...I'm so ready.
All my fears about feeling disappointed this year when the season kicked off since we probably won't repeat as National Champs without Vince - all unfounded. I'm psyched! I'm so happy the season is finally starting! I cannot wait! I'm going to miss out on the game day excitement around the stadium this weekend since I'm not going to UT's first game, but that's okay. I'm going to watch the game with my folks, and next week, when Ohio State comes a callin', I will SO be there!! This is truly the greatest time of of year!!!
And it's not *just* football (although that would be enough on its own). No, this is my favorite time of year for many reasons. For one thing, as the season runs its course, the weather improves. We start out in tank tops and shorts, and by the end we're in jeans and jackets. Good stuff. Especially this year - I'm so sick of the heat I could scream, except it's too hot to expel the hot air (incidentally, the little front that brought us the rain this morning gave us a glorious morning today in the 70s - it'll be mid-90s by the end of the day, but this morning gave a taste of better days ahead).
Secondly, coinciding with football season (the best season of all) is the holiday season - The Holidays, uppercase, with their food, vacation from work, friends and family. Love The Holidays, uppercase. Technically, we start with Labor Day this weekend since the games start this weekend, but Labor Day feels like the end of summer more than part of The Holiday Season, and really, we shouldn't even be playing this early (this stupid 12-game schedule is...stupid), so I don't count that. To me, The Holidays kick off in October with Halloween. A few weeks later we get Thanksgiving. Then a month after that is Christmas. Then a week after that is New Year's. And during all of this, there is football. The Holidays and football - they go together like chocolate and peanut butter. And there is no better candy item than Reese's peanut butter cups, and you know it, so don't even fight me on this one.
So, this weekend is the beginning of all that is glorious - football, cooler weather and the holidays. September-December. Is there even remotely a better span of 4 months? I think not.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Rain, glorious rain.
It's finally happening! Rain! It's almost like we should all just spend the day sitting outside in it. It's an insult to shelter yourself from it by being inside.
I don't know how much we'll get. Looking at the radar, it seems to be moving out already, so not as much as we need certainly. Hopefully, the result won't just be a spike in the humidity. It definitely seems to be giving us a break on our temperatures. The projected high is in the low 90s, which is a good 10 degrees lower than we've been. Hallelujah! It's like winter!
The forecast for the next week shows some partly cloudy days and no projected return to the 100s. That would be awesome! I sold my football tickets for the first UT game this Saturday because I just couldn't face sitting in the stands in the stifling heat for such a small game (small unless we lost, and then it would be huge, but I'm not sure I'd want to see that in person anyway). I buy season tickets every year, but end up selling a game or two each season because of going out of town or something. If they'd just scheduled this game as an evening game, I wouldn't have sold these. But I have no interest in suffering heat stroke for UNT. Hopefully, the break in the 100-degree temps will save a lot of people on Saturday! I shall be in air-conditioning, so I know I'm good.
I shall blog later this week about my joy of this weekend kicking off the greatest time of year. I'm holding myself back...just a few more days!
A few parting thoughts for today:
- The answer to what I will watch on Monday nights, now that "Treasure Hunters" is over, is apparently whatever is on my satellite dish. 150 channels, and none of them particularly riveting last night. I do like "Medium" quite a lot, but I decided to tape it last night instead of watching it live. I had become officially bored with the whole television enterprise by the time it came on. So, I actually turned the TV off and read. No, I don't *think* hell froze over, but you'll have to ask someone with firsthand knowledge, like maybe Kenneth Lay. I'm guessing he's got a front row seat down there these days.
- John Mark Karr didn't kill JonBenet Ramsey. I was afraid of that. He's just a psycho - not a murderer. Or at least, if he is, we don't know about it, and it doesn't appear he killed JonBenet. I'm very sorry for the Ramsey family. Those people could use a little justice and closure, and they won't be getting it today. What's say we go ahead and lock up that freak Karr anyway, though? He's definitely a pedopheliac sicko, and I don't see that he needs to be roaming around free.
- Here comes Ernesto. It looks like it may remain a tropical storm instead of developing into a hurricane, which would be good. Get out your umbrellas, Florida.
I don't know how much we'll get. Looking at the radar, it seems to be moving out already, so not as much as we need certainly. Hopefully, the result won't just be a spike in the humidity. It definitely seems to be giving us a break on our temperatures. The projected high is in the low 90s, which is a good 10 degrees lower than we've been. Hallelujah! It's like winter!
The forecast for the next week shows some partly cloudy days and no projected return to the 100s. That would be awesome! I sold my football tickets for the first UT game this Saturday because I just couldn't face sitting in the stands in the stifling heat for such a small game (small unless we lost, and then it would be huge, but I'm not sure I'd want to see that in person anyway). I buy season tickets every year, but end up selling a game or two each season because of going out of town or something. If they'd just scheduled this game as an evening game, I wouldn't have sold these. But I have no interest in suffering heat stroke for UNT. Hopefully, the break in the 100-degree temps will save a lot of people on Saturday! I shall be in air-conditioning, so I know I'm good.
I shall blog later this week about my joy of this weekend kicking off the greatest time of year. I'm holding myself back...just a few more days!
A few parting thoughts for today:
- The answer to what I will watch on Monday nights, now that "Treasure Hunters" is over, is apparently whatever is on my satellite dish. 150 channels, and none of them particularly riveting last night. I do like "Medium" quite a lot, but I decided to tape it last night instead of watching it live. I had become officially bored with the whole television enterprise by the time it came on. So, I actually turned the TV off and read. No, I don't *think* hell froze over, but you'll have to ask someone with firsthand knowledge, like maybe Kenneth Lay. I'm guessing he's got a front row seat down there these days.
- John Mark Karr didn't kill JonBenet Ramsey. I was afraid of that. He's just a psycho - not a murderer. Or at least, if he is, we don't know about it, and it doesn't appear he killed JonBenet. I'm very sorry for the Ramsey family. Those people could use a little justice and closure, and they won't be getting it today. What's say we go ahead and lock up that freak Karr anyway, though? He's definitely a pedopheliac sicko, and I don't see that he needs to be roaming around free.
- Here comes Ernesto. It looks like it may remain a tropical storm instead of developing into a hurricane, which would be good. Get out your umbrellas, Florida.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Bands, naps and movies.
Good weekend. The Greatest American Heroes were way fun on Friday, as was Carousel Lounge. I now understand the Stella phenomenon. Go Stella - it's your birthday (but we'll pretend you stopped having them). I'd never seen GAH, but Jules said they had changed lead singers. The new guy had a good voice and lots of personality. He seemed to really be enjoying himself, which adds to the fun the audience has, I think. There was lots of dancing and crowd participation. All in all, a lot of fun and we'll have to go see them again!
There was an opening band on when Julia and I got there. They're called Blue Diamond Shine, and they're best described as alternative country - kind of in the Chris Isaak or Roy Orbison vein, though the lead singer, John Stark, isn't as strong of a singer as either of those. His voice has that unsteady quality that people seem to like, though, in that kind of music, so I guess it works. John approached Jules and I halfway through the Heroes set and asked if he could trade us a couple of Blue Diamond Shine CDs for some of the Captain Morgan's we had at our table. We, of course, said that sounded like a fair trade, and he hung out with us the rest of the evening. Nice guy. We'll have to make it out to some BDS gigs. I listened to the CD this weekend, and it's got some gems. Thanks, John!
Saturday I could not sleep in like I'd hoped to. I've been ruined by this getting up at 6 a.m. every day during the week. I can hardly ever sleep late now on the weekends. But I made up for it with a nice nap later that afternoon! If only we Americans would adopt the concept of siesta. I could live with a nap everyday around 2 or 3. Oh, and the European model of 6 weeks of vacation every year. I could live with that, too. Aside from my nap, Saturday was a nice day of watching movies, working out, puttering around the house (fighting the ants) and just generally taking it easy. I was in bed early that night, and happy about it.
Sunday was "Talladega Nights" at the Alamo! It was definitely funny, though some in our group were a little disappointed. They didn't think it was as funny as some of his previous stuff. Alamo played a bunch of Will Ferrell clips, though, before the movie that were hilarious - SNL skits and talk show appearances and the like. They played the cow bell skit - best ever. Gary Cole was too funny as Ricky's dad. That guy picks the best roles! He must have a great sense of humor. I first found Gary luv in the late 80s when he was in a TV show called "Midnight Caller." That was a serious show, but I got a big crush on him. When he started showing up in comedy roles in the 90s (Mike Brady in "The Brady Bunch Movie" was the first one where I saw him do comedy), I just found a whole new way to like him. "Uh, yeah...we're gonna need you to go ahead and come on in on Saturday, mkay?"
Hey...now that Treasure Hunters is over, what am I supposed to do on Monday nights?
There was an opening band on when Julia and I got there. They're called Blue Diamond Shine, and they're best described as alternative country - kind of in the Chris Isaak or Roy Orbison vein, though the lead singer, John Stark, isn't as strong of a singer as either of those. His voice has that unsteady quality that people seem to like, though, in that kind of music, so I guess it works. John approached Jules and I halfway through the Heroes set and asked if he could trade us a couple of Blue Diamond Shine CDs for some of the Captain Morgan's we had at our table. We, of course, said that sounded like a fair trade, and he hung out with us the rest of the evening. Nice guy. We'll have to make it out to some BDS gigs. I listened to the CD this weekend, and it's got some gems. Thanks, John!
Saturday I could not sleep in like I'd hoped to. I've been ruined by this getting up at 6 a.m. every day during the week. I can hardly ever sleep late now on the weekends. But I made up for it with a nice nap later that afternoon! If only we Americans would adopt the concept of siesta. I could live with a nap everyday around 2 or 3. Oh, and the European model of 6 weeks of vacation every year. I could live with that, too. Aside from my nap, Saturday was a nice day of watching movies, working out, puttering around the house (fighting the ants) and just generally taking it easy. I was in bed early that night, and happy about it.
Sunday was "Talladega Nights" at the Alamo! It was definitely funny, though some in our group were a little disappointed. They didn't think it was as funny as some of his previous stuff. Alamo played a bunch of Will Ferrell clips, though, before the movie that were hilarious - SNL skits and talk show appearances and the like. They played the cow bell skit - best ever. Gary Cole was too funny as Ricky's dad. That guy picks the best roles! He must have a great sense of humor. I first found Gary luv in the late 80s when he was in a TV show called "Midnight Caller." That was a serious show, but I got a big crush on him. When he started showing up in comedy roles in the 90s (Mike Brady in "The Brady Bunch Movie" was the first one where I saw him do comedy), I just found a whole new way to like him. "Uh, yeah...we're gonna need you to go ahead and come on in on Saturday, mkay?"
Hey...now that Treasure Hunters is over, what am I supposed to do on Monday nights?
Friday, August 25, 2006
Rev up your engines.
That God it's Friday. Thank you, God. Thank you for Friday. Thank you even more when it's 4:30, and my weekend has officially begun.
Should be a good weekend - a couple of things lined up, but not too much, which is good. You get a little social interaction and a little rest and relaxtion. Tonight Julia and I are going to head to a little dive to see The Greatest American Heroes, an Austin band that specializes in TV themes and surf music. That should be a hoot.
Tomorrow, I plan on sleeping in on my freshly washed sheets. I used fabric softener on them for the first time yesterday and they smell awesome and are all soft. I have two sets of sheets - a kickin' pair of 400-count sheets that I wish I could just wear as a toga instead of clothes, they're so soft. I bought a great, expensive, pillow-top mattress a while back, and when I first get in bed with those high-count sheets, it's heaven. I just roll around, stretching my legs and arms out, touching as much of the fabric as I can. As Molly Shannon would say, "I love it! I love it! I love it!" The other pair are just "regular" sheets - I'm not sure of the thread count, but it's a lot lower than the other ones. The low-count ones are the ones I used the fabric softener on, and I can tell a difference. Eventually, I'll replace them with another set of high-count sheets, but in the meantime, I may invest in some Downy. That stuff is great. Can you tell I love my bed? Sleeping is good. Comfort good.
That's it so far for Saturday - nothing else planned yet. We'll see how the day shapes up.
Sunday, my peeps and I are going to see "Talladega Nights" at Alamo Drafthouse. There was really no question where to watch it. This is a movie that begs to be watched with a beer in one hand and greasy food in the other. I'm SO looking forward to it!!
I'm so ready to enjoy my weekend, I'm going to refuse to go completely off on Ray Nagin and what an asshole that guy is. I also refuse to think about my sinking feeling that this Karr guy is probably not JonBenet Ramsey's killer. I'm not even going to think about the continued 100+ temperatures here baking the life out of everything and forcing ants inside my house where they bite my feet - the little bastards. No, I won't think about any of that. It's weekend time.
Should be a good weekend - a couple of things lined up, but not too much, which is good. You get a little social interaction and a little rest and relaxtion. Tonight Julia and I are going to head to a little dive to see The Greatest American Heroes, an Austin band that specializes in TV themes and surf music. That should be a hoot.
Tomorrow, I plan on sleeping in on my freshly washed sheets. I used fabric softener on them for the first time yesterday and they smell awesome and are all soft. I have two sets of sheets - a kickin' pair of 400-count sheets that I wish I could just wear as a toga instead of clothes, they're so soft. I bought a great, expensive, pillow-top mattress a while back, and when I first get in bed with those high-count sheets, it's heaven. I just roll around, stretching my legs and arms out, touching as much of the fabric as I can. As Molly Shannon would say, "I love it! I love it! I love it!" The other pair are just "regular" sheets - I'm not sure of the thread count, but it's a lot lower than the other ones. The low-count ones are the ones I used the fabric softener on, and I can tell a difference. Eventually, I'll replace them with another set of high-count sheets, but in the meantime, I may invest in some Downy. That stuff is great. Can you tell I love my bed? Sleeping is good. Comfort good.
That's it so far for Saturday - nothing else planned yet. We'll see how the day shapes up.
Sunday, my peeps and I are going to see "Talladega Nights" at Alamo Drafthouse. There was really no question where to watch it. This is a movie that begs to be watched with a beer in one hand and greasy food in the other. I'm SO looking forward to it!!
I'm so ready to enjoy my weekend, I'm going to refuse to go completely off on Ray Nagin and what an asshole that guy is. I also refuse to think about my sinking feeling that this Karr guy is probably not JonBenet Ramsey's killer. I'm not even going to think about the continued 100+ temperatures here baking the life out of everything and forcing ants inside my house where they bite my feet - the little bastards. No, I won't think about any of that. It's weekend time.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
It's all wrong.
As Florida Evans would say, "Damn, damn, DAMN [smash a dish on the floor]!!" Treasure Hunters was a profound disappointment last night. The absolute WRONG team won, and they did it 15 minutes into the show!
At first, Ang and I were like, "That can't be it! There's too much time left! There must be something else!" But then we realized that the last 40-45 minutes of the show would be some live reunion thing. That's what they meant be a "live" finale (we were wondering). It was over. The Geniuses had won. Not Air Force, as it should have been. And not even Southies, which would have had a certain entertainment value. No. It was that twerp Charles, his deluded (about his own cool factor) friend Francis, and Sam (I like Sam well enough). Wrong, wrong, wrong.
There was no way I could stomach watching a recap, and no way I could watch the Nerds, I mean, the Geniuses, strut around for the rest of the show, so we just changed the channel. What a complete and utter disappointment.
In fact, I'm too verklempt to say more about it. Air Force, you still rock.
At first, Ang and I were like, "That can't be it! There's too much time left! There must be something else!" But then we realized that the last 40-45 minutes of the show would be some live reunion thing. That's what they meant be a "live" finale (we were wondering). It was over. The Geniuses had won. Not Air Force, as it should have been. And not even Southies, which would have had a certain entertainment value. No. It was that twerp Charles, his deluded (about his own cool factor) friend Francis, and Sam (I like Sam well enough). Wrong, wrong, wrong.
There was no way I could stomach watching a recap, and no way I could watch the Nerds, I mean, the Geniuses, strut around for the rest of the show, so we just changed the channel. What a complete and utter disappointment.
In fact, I'm too verklempt to say more about it. Air Force, you still rock.
Monday, August 21, 2006
It's going to be a bumpy night.
What a great morning (at least the part where I was still at home)! This morning, AMC was playing "All About Eve" - one of my all-time favorite movies! Man, there isn't a bad spot in it. And how do you not love Bette Davis with her claws out?? I love the cast, the acting, the writing - I love it all. And I managed to catch the party scene before I had to leave the house. Awe.Some.
I had a good weekend, but would've liked an extra day. Friday we started at a restaurant down by the lake for dinner and drinks. We managed to get an inside table without having to wait which was a huge accomplishment for this particular place (and paramount to us surviving the evening, since it was over 100 at 5:00 on Friday), but things went somewhat awry when the food came. I admit, I had squelched some of my appetite with mango margaritas and queso before dinner came, but something happened with the delivery of our meals that ended my appetite all together. I feel guilty even saying anything, because the guy who killed it can't help it that he did, and I'd never want to sound like I'm making fun of a person's infirmity or suggesting the guy shouldn't be working when he's doing a good job, but I think you'll all have to hang in there with me on this one.
You see, the guy running our food, the guy handing us the platters with our dinner on them, well...he had...how do I put this? He had a hole in his head. I don't mean he was an idiot. At first, looking at him from the front, face-forward, I even thought, "He's cute." But he turned his head, and there a hole - an actual hole. Do you understand what I'm saying? Just below his ear, was a gaping, black hole, apparently leading into the recesses of his head. I'm not even sure how you walk around with a hole like that!! How do keep out bacteria and other things that would, I should think, kill you? Heads are supposed to be enclosed. For a moment, I was just stunned - wondering if I'd seen it right, then processing if his ear was missing (it was not), then trying to get my mind around how a person exists with such a thing, then it just...I don't know...shut down my stomach.
One of my other dinner companions also saw it, and she too, was taken aback. Luckily the other two women with us didn't see it, and they decided they didn't want to. Like I said earlier, I'd never complain about the guy to the management or anything - he was doing his job and everybody who is able to work should be allowed to work, and I'd never want him to be fired or anything, but I'm just not sure that this is the guy who should be running the food. Is there not some other job he can do? I don't mean to be callous, but it honest to God ruined my appetite. And I'm not normally turned off of food, even when other people are. I could eat lasagna while watching open heart surgery. I just have to think there's some way to allow him to work while allowing diners to enjoy the meals they're paying for. I'm sure he's a nice guy, and maybe if I knew him, I wouldn't even notice it after a while, but I don't know him, and it's all I could see everytime he'd pass by. And mango margaritas only give you so much nourishment.
Luckily, I was able to snarf down some mac-n-cheese at the bar where we spent the rest of our evening. We moved on to Opal Divine's to drink beer and play Jenga - for 4 hours! Hey, we had food, beer, a game and a jukebox. What else do you need to kill a Friday night? So, I didn't starve to death. I did, however, have to buy Laurie a beer after killing the Jenga tower one round. We tried to end the evening with a round of Clue, but we'd had too much beer and it was too late to concentrate by that point in the evening, so it just ended up being tedious! We're going to go back on another night armed with Uno cards, though. Uno only gets better with beer.
Tonight, any dinner issues are squarely on my shoulders! Ang and I are going to try again to watch the Treasure Hunters finale! Woohoo! Tonight we're meeting at my house, and I'll be in charge of dinner. I'll try to have dinner ready before the show starts so I don't miss a minute of it. Go Air Force!!!
I had a good weekend, but would've liked an extra day. Friday we started at a restaurant down by the lake for dinner and drinks. We managed to get an inside table without having to wait which was a huge accomplishment for this particular place (and paramount to us surviving the evening, since it was over 100 at 5:00 on Friday), but things went somewhat awry when the food came. I admit, I had squelched some of my appetite with mango margaritas and queso before dinner came, but something happened with the delivery of our meals that ended my appetite all together. I feel guilty even saying anything, because the guy who killed it can't help it that he did, and I'd never want to sound like I'm making fun of a person's infirmity or suggesting the guy shouldn't be working when he's doing a good job, but I think you'll all have to hang in there with me on this one.
You see, the guy running our food, the guy handing us the platters with our dinner on them, well...he had...how do I put this? He had a hole in his head. I don't mean he was an idiot. At first, looking at him from the front, face-forward, I even thought, "He's cute." But he turned his head, and there a hole - an actual hole. Do you understand what I'm saying? Just below his ear, was a gaping, black hole, apparently leading into the recesses of his head. I'm not even sure how you walk around with a hole like that!! How do keep out bacteria and other things that would, I should think, kill you? Heads are supposed to be enclosed. For a moment, I was just stunned - wondering if I'd seen it right, then processing if his ear was missing (it was not), then trying to get my mind around how a person exists with such a thing, then it just...I don't know...shut down my stomach.
One of my other dinner companions also saw it, and she too, was taken aback. Luckily the other two women with us didn't see it, and they decided they didn't want to. Like I said earlier, I'd never complain about the guy to the management or anything - he was doing his job and everybody who is able to work should be allowed to work, and I'd never want him to be fired or anything, but I'm just not sure that this is the guy who should be running the food. Is there not some other job he can do? I don't mean to be callous, but it honest to God ruined my appetite. And I'm not normally turned off of food, even when other people are. I could eat lasagna while watching open heart surgery. I just have to think there's some way to allow him to work while allowing diners to enjoy the meals they're paying for. I'm sure he's a nice guy, and maybe if I knew him, I wouldn't even notice it after a while, but I don't know him, and it's all I could see everytime he'd pass by. And mango margaritas only give you so much nourishment.
Luckily, I was able to snarf down some mac-n-cheese at the bar where we spent the rest of our evening. We moved on to Opal Divine's to drink beer and play Jenga - for 4 hours! Hey, we had food, beer, a game and a jukebox. What else do you need to kill a Friday night? So, I didn't starve to death. I did, however, have to buy Laurie a beer after killing the Jenga tower one round. We tried to end the evening with a round of Clue, but we'd had too much beer and it was too late to concentrate by that point in the evening, so it just ended up being tedious! We're going to go back on another night armed with Uno cards, though. Uno only gets better with beer.
Tonight, any dinner issues are squarely on my shoulders! Ang and I are going to try again to watch the Treasure Hunters finale! Woohoo! Tonight we're meeting at my house, and I'll be in charge of dinner. I'll try to have dinner ready before the show starts so I don't miss a minute of it. Go Air Force!!!
Friday, August 18, 2006
JonBenet arrest.
I've long said that the Ramseys had nothing to do with the death of their daughter, JonBenet. When it first happened in 1996, I didn't know what to think. I actually withheld judgement, unlike a lot of people, because I just couldn't tell. Yeah, I thought the 6-year-old beauty contestant thing was a little creepy. Girls grow up fast enough and are sexualized too soon as it is - why accelerate the process? But I never thought that meant the parents had anything sinister going on. To me, it was more like she was a doll that they dressed up than an object of some kind of unspeakable abuse. But, and this is where my mind was open to an outside killer, just because she wasn't seen as a sexual object to her parents didn't mean she wouldn't be seen as one to some demented pedophile.
There are plenty of things that you, as loving parent, can do innocently that can be perverted by someone who wants to see it as less than innocent. You bathe your kids and take pictures of them naked in the tub playing with toys, right? But do you want those pictures published on the NAMBLA Web site? I think not. There are too many sickos in the world to parade your 6-year-old daughter around in makeup and grown-up clothes or to let your 10-year-old walk around in t-shirts that say "hot stuff" or shorts with writing on the butt. Use some common sense.
Having said that, the Ramseys may not have used the best judgement in how to present their daughter to the world, but I don't think they meant anything bad by it, and I don't think they deserved the hell they were put through. I think they were treated unforgiveably by the media and by the Boulder police. I know someone high up in Colorado law enforcement, and this person told my family outright that the Boulder police had botched the investigation. As time went by, I watched various TV shows about the Ramsey case - shows that focused solely on the media coverage, shows that brought in outside investigators to look at the evidence, and so on.
I became convinced early on that the Ramseys had nothing to do with it and that some sick bastard was running around free after killing that baby. And my heart bled for the Ramseys. Those poor people went through a nightmare none of the rest of us can imagine. Their little girl was brutally murdered (a loss generally recognized as the worst possible loss) in their own home (try ever sleeping again in that house). The father found her (he has to live with that image for the rest of his life). The police and media proceeded to brutalize these people - accusing the father of abuse, accusing the mother of concocting false evidence, all but accusing them outright of the murder. There were mock trials of these people on TV shows! And meanwhile, the killer is getting further and further away, and there wasn't a damn thing they could do. Stop for one second, especially if you have children, and *imagine* this! And poor Patsy Ramsey - she didn't even live to see some vindication. Say your prayers you're never subjected to what those people went through. Because it could happen to you as easily as it happened to them.
So fast-forward to 2006. There's an arrest now. The guy confessed. But did he do it? Just like in 1996, I'm keeping an open mind. I'm not sure. Some of his facts of the crime are way off. Others, they say, only the killer could know. So, is he a sick mofo who killed JonBenet, but is so demented he can only really relate the crime with partial clarity? Or is he a sick mofo who confessed to something he didn't do because he believes he did it, but he didn't? No way to know yet. They're going to have to do some DNA testing, and I'm sure there will need to be other testing/investigation as well since the guy is clearly off his rocker.
I really pray, for John Ramsey's sake, that this is the guy who did it, they can prove it, and the trial is swift and decisive and the guy gets put away. If not, this is still not over for him. And hasn't he been through enough?
There are plenty of things that you, as loving parent, can do innocently that can be perverted by someone who wants to see it as less than innocent. You bathe your kids and take pictures of them naked in the tub playing with toys, right? But do you want those pictures published on the NAMBLA Web site? I think not. There are too many sickos in the world to parade your 6-year-old daughter around in makeup and grown-up clothes or to let your 10-year-old walk around in t-shirts that say "hot stuff" or shorts with writing on the butt. Use some common sense.
Having said that, the Ramseys may not have used the best judgement in how to present their daughter to the world, but I don't think they meant anything bad by it, and I don't think they deserved the hell they were put through. I think they were treated unforgiveably by the media and by the Boulder police. I know someone high up in Colorado law enforcement, and this person told my family outright that the Boulder police had botched the investigation. As time went by, I watched various TV shows about the Ramsey case - shows that focused solely on the media coverage, shows that brought in outside investigators to look at the evidence, and so on.
I became convinced early on that the Ramseys had nothing to do with it and that some sick bastard was running around free after killing that baby. And my heart bled for the Ramseys. Those poor people went through a nightmare none of the rest of us can imagine. Their little girl was brutally murdered (a loss generally recognized as the worst possible loss) in their own home (try ever sleeping again in that house). The father found her (he has to live with that image for the rest of his life). The police and media proceeded to brutalize these people - accusing the father of abuse, accusing the mother of concocting false evidence, all but accusing them outright of the murder. There were mock trials of these people on TV shows! And meanwhile, the killer is getting further and further away, and there wasn't a damn thing they could do. Stop for one second, especially if you have children, and *imagine* this! And poor Patsy Ramsey - she didn't even live to see some vindication. Say your prayers you're never subjected to what those people went through. Because it could happen to you as easily as it happened to them.
So fast-forward to 2006. There's an arrest now. The guy confessed. But did he do it? Just like in 1996, I'm keeping an open mind. I'm not sure. Some of his facts of the crime are way off. Others, they say, only the killer could know. So, is he a sick mofo who killed JonBenet, but is so demented he can only really relate the crime with partial clarity? Or is he a sick mofo who confessed to something he didn't do because he believes he did it, but he didn't? No way to know yet. They're going to have to do some DNA testing, and I'm sure there will need to be other testing/investigation as well since the guy is clearly off his rocker.
I really pray, for John Ramsey's sake, that this is the guy who did it, they can prove it, and the trial is swift and decisive and the guy gets put away. If not, this is still not over for him. And hasn't he been through enough?
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
57 is too young to die.
Bruno Kirby has died. He was only 57. It seems he was recently diagnosed with leukemia and lost his battle rather quickly. Leukemia is vicious. My uncle died of it. It's pretty freakin' bad when your *blood* has cancer. I'm sorry to hear that he had to go through that and that he died. I liked his work and he seemed like a decent guy.
Many of you many not know who Bruno Kirby is based solely on his name. But you'd know some of the roles he's played. Here he is in one of my favorite movies, When Harry Met Sally:
Recognize him now - with the "stupid, wagon wheel, Roy Rogers garage sale coffee table!", as Harry put it? He's been in tons of movies: Good Morning Vietnam, City Slickers, even a Columbo movie. He was in one of the 70s era Columbo movies. He was a young pup at the time. He played a student at a military school where the headmaster had killed the school's new owner - the ne'er do well son of the previous owner. He even had screen credit for the role.
I think it was Bruno Kirby's name that got my attention about him. First of all, Bruno seems like a name from a movie, but like you'd never really know someone named that (not that I knew the man, but you know what I mean). It's a name for a bulldog.
Second of all, it didn't fit. He'd come on screen, and he's got this tough-guy name, but then this sort of pinched, somewhat high voice would come out. He sounded like a nerd, but he had this great, bulldog name. And it was his real name. Who looks at their beautiful infant child and comes up with "Bruno"? Apparently Bruno Kirby's parents.
Maybe some day I'll get me a bulldog and name him Bruno, not in honor of Bruno Kirby - I don't know the man; I just enjoyed his characters - but because it would be kind of cool.
God bless, Bruno Kirby. I hope you were happy with your life.
Many of you many not know who Bruno Kirby is based solely on his name. But you'd know some of the roles he's played. Here he is in one of my favorite movies, When Harry Met Sally:
Recognize him now - with the "stupid, wagon wheel, Roy Rogers garage sale coffee table!", as Harry put it? He's been in tons of movies: Good Morning Vietnam, City Slickers, even a Columbo movie. He was in one of the 70s era Columbo movies. He was a young pup at the time. He played a student at a military school where the headmaster had killed the school's new owner - the ne'er do well son of the previous owner. He even had screen credit for the role.
I think it was Bruno Kirby's name that got my attention about him. First of all, Bruno seems like a name from a movie, but like you'd never really know someone named that (not that I knew the man, but you know what I mean). It's a name for a bulldog.
Second of all, it didn't fit. He'd come on screen, and he's got this tough-guy name, but then this sort of pinched, somewhat high voice would come out. He sounded like a nerd, but he had this great, bulldog name. And it was his real name. Who looks at their beautiful infant child and comes up with "Bruno"? Apparently Bruno Kirby's parents.
Maybe some day I'll get me a bulldog and name him Bruno, not in honor of Bruno Kirby - I don't know the man; I just enjoyed his characters - but because it would be kind of cool.
God bless, Bruno Kirby. I hope you were happy with your life.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
No treasure yet.
Ang and I got robbed last night! We thought it was the finale for Treasure Hunters, but it turns out the finale is next week. And next week is supposed to be "live" - I'm not sure I quite understand how that's going to work, but I guess we'll find out!
The best part of last night's show was the Southies at the Library of Congress - no question! They were hilarious, mostly because they knew how completely out of place they were there. "They put three rockheads in a library to look for a book." Priceless! I mean, how about the one guy writing the book titles on his arm? That's just so...man on the street. I just wanted to step in and help them!
Air Force, of course, got the clue bingo-bango. Ang and I were noting how well they function as a team. They never argue, and they each come up with ideas and clues that lead them to the answers they're looking for. It will be an absolute crime if they don't end up winning.
And what's up with the Geniuses being given the clue about the printing press? Air Force had to figure it out, but the Geniuses got a call giving them the clue. That seems like crap. And did the Southies get that same call? The wonderful editing didn't show us.
Lazaretto Battery. It just killed me with the Geniuses got their first. I can't stand the thought of those guys winning. Ang and I were beside ourselves wanting Air Force to get there! I did have a good laugh in this segment, though. The Geniuses were in the basement, looking for the clue, and they start talking to each other, but they're whispering. Why? There were no other teams there!
Well, the promo made it look like things would even up a bit for the finale next week. I hope so. Air Force has just got to get in there and win this puppy! Ang and I will try again next week to watch together, and hopefully NBC won't psych us out again!
The best part of last night's show was the Southies at the Library of Congress - no question! They were hilarious, mostly because they knew how completely out of place they were there. "They put three rockheads in a library to look for a book." Priceless! I mean, how about the one guy writing the book titles on his arm? That's just so...man on the street. I just wanted to step in and help them!
Air Force, of course, got the clue bingo-bango. Ang and I were noting how well they function as a team. They never argue, and they each come up with ideas and clues that lead them to the answers they're looking for. It will be an absolute crime if they don't end up winning.
And what's up with the Geniuses being given the clue about the printing press? Air Force had to figure it out, but the Geniuses got a call giving them the clue. That seems like crap. And did the Southies get that same call? The wonderful editing didn't show us.
Lazaretto Battery. It just killed me with the Geniuses got their first. I can't stand the thought of those guys winning. Ang and I were beside ourselves wanting Air Force to get there! I did have a good laugh in this segment, though. The Geniuses were in the basement, looking for the clue, and they start talking to each other, but they're whispering. Why? There were no other teams there!
Well, the promo made it look like things would even up a bit for the finale next week. I hope so. Air Force has just got to get in there and win this puppy! Ang and I will try again next week to watch together, and hopefully NBC won't psych us out again!
Monday, August 14, 2006
Hitchcock and the mall
The power went out at my house for a short time at some point on Friday. I came home and my bedside clock was flashing, the stove clock said "PF" (power failure) and my VCR had been zeroed out. I don't have actual timers set on my VCR, like to get the same shows at the same time every week or anything, but I do like the counter to stay set so I know how much time is left on a tape. Also, when it zeroes out, it knocks it off channel 3, which is where it needs to be to record anything off my satellite (people with TiVo are laughing at me right now with my primitive setup. As the Southie Boys on Treasure Hunters would say, "Shut up!"). In any case, I had to reset everything when I got home Friday.
Anyone who reads this blog regularly really should have an inkling where all this is going. Last night, at midnight, my alarm went off. I had that terribly groggy response of, "God, I'm still so tired. I wish I could sleep a few more hours." Then I looked at the clock, realized I'd forgotten to reset the alarm when I reset the clock, and had to fumble around in the dark trying to reset it to 6:00 a.m. I managed to turn on the "sleep" function, as I always do when trying to set the damn thing in the dark, which turned on the radio, so I had to get that turned off. Then, as long as I was up, I went ahead and went to the bathroom. This was WAY too much activity, and my mind got started. Consequently, it took me 45 minutes to get back to sleep. And I'd been sleeping so soundly when the stupid thing went off! I'm such an idiot.
The weekend up to that point was pretty good, though technically, once it hit midnight, I guess it was Monday! Anyway, I had a blissfully dull Friday night. I did nothing. And it was great. In fact, they had a Hitchcock weekend on one of my movie channels, and Rear Window was on Friday night. That's one of my all-time favorite movies, so I turned out all the lights and lounged on the couch under a throw with the a.c. down low in the dark and watched it. That's pretty much heaven for me.
Saturday I visited the folks, and Sunday I did some shopping. I haven't been to the mall in a while where I didn't just run in for something and run right back out. I actually spent some time on Sunday looking around and people-watching. I enjoyed it. I like to see the couples and families and friends interacting, catching snippets of their conversation as they pass by, seeing what they're wearing and where they're shopping. You see people telling stories and people laughing and some people arguing and it's all just so...real. It comforting at this time when things are kind of a mess in the world (when are things NOT a mess in the world?) to see people living in their microworlds. Life goes on, ya know?
Anyone who reads this blog regularly really should have an inkling where all this is going. Last night, at midnight, my alarm went off. I had that terribly groggy response of, "God, I'm still so tired. I wish I could sleep a few more hours." Then I looked at the clock, realized I'd forgotten to reset the alarm when I reset the clock, and had to fumble around in the dark trying to reset it to 6:00 a.m. I managed to turn on the "sleep" function, as I always do when trying to set the damn thing in the dark, which turned on the radio, so I had to get that turned off. Then, as long as I was up, I went ahead and went to the bathroom. This was WAY too much activity, and my mind got started. Consequently, it took me 45 minutes to get back to sleep. And I'd been sleeping so soundly when the stupid thing went off! I'm such an idiot.
The weekend up to that point was pretty good, though technically, once it hit midnight, I guess it was Monday! Anyway, I had a blissfully dull Friday night. I did nothing. And it was great. In fact, they had a Hitchcock weekend on one of my movie channels, and Rear Window was on Friday night. That's one of my all-time favorite movies, so I turned out all the lights and lounged on the couch under a throw with the a.c. down low in the dark and watched it. That's pretty much heaven for me.
Saturday I visited the folks, and Sunday I did some shopping. I haven't been to the mall in a while where I didn't just run in for something and run right back out. I actually spent some time on Sunday looking around and people-watching. I enjoyed it. I like to see the couples and families and friends interacting, catching snippets of their conversation as they pass by, seeing what they're wearing and where they're shopping. You see people telling stories and people laughing and some people arguing and it's all just so...real. It comforting at this time when things are kind of a mess in the world (when are things NOT a mess in the world?) to see people living in their microworlds. Life goes on, ya know?
Friday, August 11, 2006
One dip, with sprinkles
Last night was our last salsa class. It's been real. Real fun and real good for my blog, that is!
I actually did better last night than last week. It's like all the stuff that wouldn't gel last week sank in this week. I worked my way around the circle, nailing the steps like a pro with only a few flubs here and there when I quit concentrating. It's not exactly muscle memory yet.
I danced with Rico quite a bit just because I was willing to - he's a tool but he knows the steps, and I wanted to get some practice in on them since this was the last class. I asked him to practice two particular steps with me, and that was fine, but then he couldn't stop himself from critiquing other aspects of my performance. "Shift your body weight. Shift your body weight. Hold your hand up higher. Hold it loosely. Let all the movement be in your hips - don't move your upper body." This last one was particularly ironic since he favors moving his upper body around like someone has dropped a baggie of bugs down the back of his shirt. But I held my tongue.
Angela got to dance with him, too. She got the "Bah, bah, BAH, bah, bah, BAH" treatment as he mouthed both the rhythm and the countdown our the instructor did each time as we switched partners to tell us to start. The real fun for Angela came not with Rico, though, but with the instructor. It came with the new element we added this week - a dip at the end of the sequence.
The dip is harder than it looks, because we were told at length that the dip is not the man holding us and dipping us. The dip is us, the women, leaning back on the right leg and pointing the left toe out, so that you're actually holding yourself up. If the guy walked away, you'd still be in the dip. It's an illusion.
So, we practiced a bunch of times without a partner to get the feel of the position - of holding yourself up in this diagonal position on one leg. Not easy. Then it was time for partners. Angela had the misfortune of starting the partner phase with the instructor. Apparently, Teacher Dude had ingested some kind of (a) caffeinated beverage or (b) testosterone-laced aggression chemical, because when he proceeded to do this move, instead of allowing the woman to strike the pose herself, as we'd been taught, he essentially threw his partner around like a rag doll, completely throwing her off balance. Angela was the first to find this out.
Teacher Dude threw her backward, then jerked her back up, as her legs splayed and her arms flailed. His manhandling was completely unexpected. Worse yet, because she'd planted her foot in one spot, to hold herself, and then he shifted her into a different place, her leg couldn't hold her in the new spot, and she may have pulled a muscle as her body tried to make the sudden adjustment to keep her from smashing to the floor. She seriously felt like she had a pulled muscle as we left class.
I had seen her having trouble, so I was kind of prepared that something might be awry when it was my turn to dance with Teacher Dude, and sure enough, I, too, flubbed the move as he unexpectedly threw me around. It took me until the third try to not look like an MS patient when he did it. I was thrilled when I was able to move on to a new partner. I think the guy has got some kind of suppressed anger. "You want to dip? I'll dip you. I'll dip you right into the hospital, WOMAN!!!" Decaf, Teacher Man. Decaf.
We declined to go dancing with the class after class. I was tired and didn't feel like going out, Julia had plans with her family and Ang decided she'd rather go see a band she knows. So, Ang and I grabbed some food at Moe's Southwest Grill, and we all went our separate ways. Jules was lucky to miss Moe's. The food was fine, but they had some sensory overload going on. They had 3 televisions on the wall, each with a different game on, which was fine, but then they had a live band that seemed to think it was a Pink Floyd reincarnation (were the band members even alive when Pink Floyd climbed to fame?), except...bad. I don't mean to be a hater on some youths trying to learn their craft, but damn. So very loud and...bad. And yet, they had some guys (presumably drunk) actually standing and hollering support. Go figure. In any case, we had a hard time maintaining conversation with all that going on.
Tonight: quiet night at home.
I actually did better last night than last week. It's like all the stuff that wouldn't gel last week sank in this week. I worked my way around the circle, nailing the steps like a pro with only a few flubs here and there when I quit concentrating. It's not exactly muscle memory yet.
I danced with Rico quite a bit just because I was willing to - he's a tool but he knows the steps, and I wanted to get some practice in on them since this was the last class. I asked him to practice two particular steps with me, and that was fine, but then he couldn't stop himself from critiquing other aspects of my performance. "Shift your body weight. Shift your body weight. Hold your hand up higher. Hold it loosely. Let all the movement be in your hips - don't move your upper body." This last one was particularly ironic since he favors moving his upper body around like someone has dropped a baggie of bugs down the back of his shirt. But I held my tongue.
Angela got to dance with him, too. She got the "Bah, bah, BAH, bah, bah, BAH" treatment as he mouthed both the rhythm and the countdown our the instructor did each time as we switched partners to tell us to start. The real fun for Angela came not with Rico, though, but with the instructor. It came with the new element we added this week - a dip at the end of the sequence.
The dip is harder than it looks, because we were told at length that the dip is not the man holding us and dipping us. The dip is us, the women, leaning back on the right leg and pointing the left toe out, so that you're actually holding yourself up. If the guy walked away, you'd still be in the dip. It's an illusion.
So, we practiced a bunch of times without a partner to get the feel of the position - of holding yourself up in this diagonal position on one leg. Not easy. Then it was time for partners. Angela had the misfortune of starting the partner phase with the instructor. Apparently, Teacher Dude had ingested some kind of (a) caffeinated beverage or (b) testosterone-laced aggression chemical, because when he proceeded to do this move, instead of allowing the woman to strike the pose herself, as we'd been taught, he essentially threw his partner around like a rag doll, completely throwing her off balance. Angela was the first to find this out.
Teacher Dude threw her backward, then jerked her back up, as her legs splayed and her arms flailed. His manhandling was completely unexpected. Worse yet, because she'd planted her foot in one spot, to hold herself, and then he shifted her into a different place, her leg couldn't hold her in the new spot, and she may have pulled a muscle as her body tried to make the sudden adjustment to keep her from smashing to the floor. She seriously felt like she had a pulled muscle as we left class.
I had seen her having trouble, so I was kind of prepared that something might be awry when it was my turn to dance with Teacher Dude, and sure enough, I, too, flubbed the move as he unexpectedly threw me around. It took me until the third try to not look like an MS patient when he did it. I was thrilled when I was able to move on to a new partner. I think the guy has got some kind of suppressed anger. "You want to dip? I'll dip you. I'll dip you right into the hospital, WOMAN!!!" Decaf, Teacher Man. Decaf.
We declined to go dancing with the class after class. I was tired and didn't feel like going out, Julia had plans with her family and Ang decided she'd rather go see a band she knows. So, Ang and I grabbed some food at Moe's Southwest Grill, and we all went our separate ways. Jules was lucky to miss Moe's. The food was fine, but they had some sensory overload going on. They had 3 televisions on the wall, each with a different game on, which was fine, but then they had a live band that seemed to think it was a Pink Floyd reincarnation (were the band members even alive when Pink Floyd climbed to fame?), except...bad. I don't mean to be a hater on some youths trying to learn their craft, but damn. So very loud and...bad. And yet, they had some guys (presumably drunk) actually standing and hollering support. Go figure. In any case, we had a hard time maintaining conversation with all that going on.
Tonight: quiet night at home.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
I should just wear skirts.
If you've gone shopping for jeans lately, you may have noticed what the marketers want to foist on us for the fall season: skinny jeans.
That's a misnomer. They should be called "Make you look like shit" jeans. Seriously, I can't think of a style that makes you look worse, unless you're one of those anorexic, Kate Moss, waif models they're using to sell them. Real women look like ass in them. They aren't just tight. I mean, I was a teenager in the '80s. I've worn jeans tight enough that you have to lay down to zip them up. In fact, the tight fit in the '80s almost ruined me for jeans altogether. I actually avoided wearing them for years because my association with denim was how uncomfortable it was.
In my 20s, a boyfriend encouraged me to try baggy jeans (it was the 90s). I did, and I thought that was about the greatest thing ever. Of course, if you're a thin person, baggy clothes tend to make you look like you're shriveling. But I was just so happy to be comfortable, I convinced myself it was "a look."
Eventually, I (thankfully) got away from that look. I've tried a number of times to buy low-rise jeans - the ones that sit on the hips, well below the waist, are kind of tight but flare a little at the bottom. They look good on everyone else. But I have small waist, and most of the low-rise jeans and shorts I've tried on gap at the back. I'm not giving up, though. I've found an occasional pair here and there that work, so I'm still hanging in there. I actually bought a pair of low-rise jeans recently that are *just* a little loose, so I'm going to wash them in hot water and see if that does the trick. But all of this effort on my part is occurring just as the trend is changing.
This brings us back to skinny jeans - jeans that are tight all the way down to the ankles - hugging every single inch of flesh, accentuating any bit of curve, mainly the curve you *don't* like. God forbid you should have hips. Look at the models in the link I included. Do those appear to be women who have ever eaten a sandwich? Ever?
These are jeans for 12-year-olds and bulemics. The rest of us need to avoid them. Do not buy them. You *will* look bad. I know it's fashionable, and it's awesome that you think you'll look just like Mischa Barton if you wear them, thereby boosting your self-esteem and confidence. But you'll be wrong. You won't look like Mischa Barton. You'll look like Thelma Thudpucker poured into poorly fitting jeans with your saddlebags on display. Don't do it.
That's a misnomer. They should be called "Make you look like shit" jeans. Seriously, I can't think of a style that makes you look worse, unless you're one of those anorexic, Kate Moss, waif models they're using to sell them. Real women look like ass in them. They aren't just tight. I mean, I was a teenager in the '80s. I've worn jeans tight enough that you have to lay down to zip them up. In fact, the tight fit in the '80s almost ruined me for jeans altogether. I actually avoided wearing them for years because my association with denim was how uncomfortable it was.
In my 20s, a boyfriend encouraged me to try baggy jeans (it was the 90s). I did, and I thought that was about the greatest thing ever. Of course, if you're a thin person, baggy clothes tend to make you look like you're shriveling. But I was just so happy to be comfortable, I convinced myself it was "a look."
Eventually, I (thankfully) got away from that look. I've tried a number of times to buy low-rise jeans - the ones that sit on the hips, well below the waist, are kind of tight but flare a little at the bottom. They look good on everyone else. But I have small waist, and most of the low-rise jeans and shorts I've tried on gap at the back. I'm not giving up, though. I've found an occasional pair here and there that work, so I'm still hanging in there. I actually bought a pair of low-rise jeans recently that are *just* a little loose, so I'm going to wash them in hot water and see if that does the trick. But all of this effort on my part is occurring just as the trend is changing.
This brings us back to skinny jeans - jeans that are tight all the way down to the ankles - hugging every single inch of flesh, accentuating any bit of curve, mainly the curve you *don't* like. God forbid you should have hips. Look at the models in the link I included. Do those appear to be women who have ever eaten a sandwich? Ever?
These are jeans for 12-year-olds and bulemics. The rest of us need to avoid them. Do not buy them. You *will* look bad. I know it's fashionable, and it's awesome that you think you'll look just like Mischa Barton if you wear them, thereby boosting your self-esteem and confidence. But you'll be wrong. You won't look like Mischa Barton. You'll look like Thelma Thudpucker poured into poorly fitting jeans with your saddlebags on display. Don't do it.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
I got nuthin'
I'm dry today. I've got nothing. My head hurts (I think from allergy). It's kind of humid so my hair looks marginal. I keep forgetting if it's Tuesday or Wednesday. I'm hungry, yet I appear to be too lazy to get up and get something to eat. And I can't light on a subject today for my blog. How about I throw some questions out? I'll give you my answer and anyone who stops by can answer in the comments section? It'll be kind of a meme. Don't be shy.
1. Have you ever played a sport?
Yes, when I was a young'un I used to do gymnastics and play volleyball and run track. I had to quit in high school, though, because I was diagnosed with a degenerative condition in both knees, though the doc didn't recommend surgery yet. So, I switched to choir, which I loved. I finally had my knees operated on in 1999, though, so let's go skiing!
2. Do you have any tattoos or piercings?
I have no tattoos, and at the moment, my only piercing is my ears (2 on the right ear and 1 on the left). I had my belly pierced for about 6 months several years ago, but I took it out. It looked good, but it was a pain in the patootie. My skin is sensitive and the friggin' thing was constantly rubbing painfully or getting infected. I literally had to soak it every single day in a salt solution and clean it with bacterial soap. Every. Single. Day. Like I need to add anything to my grooming routine. So, I finally decided my belly looked just fine au natural and the piercing came out. There's still a little dot where the hole was. It looks like there's a hole that you could still put jewelry through, but it's actually closed, and I don't EVER plan on stabbing something sharp through my flesh again. I nearly passed out when I got the piercing. No joke. Pain bad.
3. What's your favorite food?
Mexican, hands down. No elaboration needed.
4. What alcohol can you not stand the sight or smell of?
Southern Comfort. The smell makes me gag. I drank a whole bottle once in college and proceeded to fertlize (or kill) the lawn with it later that evening. I haven't been able to touch it since. How did I (a) graduate college TWICE and (b) not kill myself in my 20s?
5. Where have you lived?
Houston; Austin; West Lafayette, IN. I grew up in Houston, went to college in Austin, went back to Houston after graduation, then went to graduate school at Purdue for a semester, then moved back to Austin in '94, where I've been ever since. I actually liked Indiana alot. Nice people and real winter. I wore a real winter coat and trudged through snow and got to wear sweaters. I look good in sweaters. I discovered that 23 degrees is better than 33 degrees because at 33, the snow on your exposed parts melts the second you get inside, wetting you down. At 23, you can brush it off before it melts, leaving you dry. I also discovered, though, that the snow you enjoy in February can also depress you in April. A Texas girl is ready for shorts in April.
Okay, that's enough. Give me your answers in the comments section!
1. Have you ever played a sport?
Yes, when I was a young'un I used to do gymnastics and play volleyball and run track. I had to quit in high school, though, because I was diagnosed with a degenerative condition in both knees, though the doc didn't recommend surgery yet. So, I switched to choir, which I loved. I finally had my knees operated on in 1999, though, so let's go skiing!
2. Do you have any tattoos or piercings?
I have no tattoos, and at the moment, my only piercing is my ears (2 on the right ear and 1 on the left). I had my belly pierced for about 6 months several years ago, but I took it out. It looked good, but it was a pain in the patootie. My skin is sensitive and the friggin' thing was constantly rubbing painfully or getting infected. I literally had to soak it every single day in a salt solution and clean it with bacterial soap. Every. Single. Day. Like I need to add anything to my grooming routine. So, I finally decided my belly looked just fine au natural and the piercing came out. There's still a little dot where the hole was. It looks like there's a hole that you could still put jewelry through, but it's actually closed, and I don't EVER plan on stabbing something sharp through my flesh again. I nearly passed out when I got the piercing. No joke. Pain bad.
3. What's your favorite food?
Mexican, hands down. No elaboration needed.
4. What alcohol can you not stand the sight or smell of?
Southern Comfort. The smell makes me gag. I drank a whole bottle once in college and proceeded to fertlize (or kill) the lawn with it later that evening. I haven't been able to touch it since. How did I (a) graduate college TWICE and (b) not kill myself in my 20s?
5. Where have you lived?
Houston; Austin; West Lafayette, IN. I grew up in Houston, went to college in Austin, went back to Houston after graduation, then went to graduate school at Purdue for a semester, then moved back to Austin in '94, where I've been ever since. I actually liked Indiana alot. Nice people and real winter. I wore a real winter coat and trudged through snow and got to wear sweaters. I look good in sweaters. I discovered that 23 degrees is better than 33 degrees because at 33, the snow on your exposed parts melts the second you get inside, wetting you down. At 23, you can brush it off before it melts, leaving you dry. I also discovered, though, that the snow you enjoy in February can also depress you in April. A Texas girl is ready for shorts in April.
Okay, that's enough. Give me your answers in the comments section!
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Down to three
Treasure Hunters has now narrowed the field to three teams. I have to admit up front that I missed the first 15 minutes of the show this week. I started watching a movie without thinking at 7 p.m., and all of a sudden at 8:15 I realized that I was missing Treasure Hunters! So, when I came in, they'd just gotten instructions to go to Philadelphia.
I knew immediately that the Geniuses would fall out of first place in Philly. How did I know? Because Philly is Francis' home town and he got all cocky, and as I've said before, a lesson learned from The Amazing Race is that when a team goes to its home town, they get arrogant and sloppy and invariably screw up. It's almost a promise. And sure enough, that's what they did.
Francis was all excited because he knew immediately that the plaque clue of "Girard' was a street and he excitedly told his teammates how the other teams would think it's a name. No, Francis, they didn't. They're not stupid enough to make assumptions...like you did...because you were home and figured you knew it all. It wasn't a street. It was a college, and if you'd looked it up like the other teams did, you would've known that. Instead, you relied on your own knowledge and drove all over town and slipped into third place. It happens every time, people.
But let's back up for a second and talk about that plaque - or rather the ledge task. Holy hell, they had people on a friggin ledge, no more than 8 or 9 inches deep, 22 stories up! I think I might have puked. If I HAD to do it because I got up there and found out what the task was but we'd lose too much time by switching to someone else, then I would have done it - I can buck up and power through when need be. But that would pretty much be my worst nightmare...well, if they had large bugs crawling in my hair and down my shirt while I walked the ledge THAT would be my worst nightmare, but the ledge would be pretty bad all on its own.
I'm not good with heights, and that ledge was really narrow, and going around the columns and such...(shudder). And then to have to lay down and look over the side to read the plaque? Oh, man. Oh, man. That would just be...man. The one bright spot watching that sequence was Matt R.'s legs. Did you see his thighs? That Brooke is a lucky woman. Hit it, girl.
So, they all get the plaque clue and head to Founders Hall, where the Southies proceed to - focus on the clue? No. They proceed to fight like 14-year-olds in the parking lot wasting time until the Geniuses got there. Boys, boys, boys. Let's knock the testosterone down a notch and remember why you're there. You can duke it out later after the hunt it over. I'm glad they're still in it, actually. I do like the Southies.
I'm less pleased that the Geniuses are still in it, though. I was really hoping they'd be eliminated. I like the Ex-CIA guys well enough, and Francis and Charles are so annoying. But we're stuck with them for the finals. So long as they don't win, it's okay.
You know I want Air Force to win. That's a given. I should be jealous of people that young, successful, capable, athletic, good-looking, happily married, etc. but I can't help it. On top of everything else, they're not arrogant - they just seem to represent America's finest. They just rock. Go Air Force!!
If Southies win, it's okay. Not ideal, but fine. Just so long as the Geniuses don't win. Ang, we may have to watch together next week in case we need to console one another.
I knew immediately that the Geniuses would fall out of first place in Philly. How did I know? Because Philly is Francis' home town and he got all cocky, and as I've said before, a lesson learned from The Amazing Race is that when a team goes to its home town, they get arrogant and sloppy and invariably screw up. It's almost a promise. And sure enough, that's what they did.
Francis was all excited because he knew immediately that the plaque clue of "Girard' was a street and he excitedly told his teammates how the other teams would think it's a name. No, Francis, they didn't. They're not stupid enough to make assumptions...like you did...because you were home and figured you knew it all. It wasn't a street. It was a college, and if you'd looked it up like the other teams did, you would've known that. Instead, you relied on your own knowledge and drove all over town and slipped into third place. It happens every time, people.
But let's back up for a second and talk about that plaque - or rather the ledge task. Holy hell, they had people on a friggin ledge, no more than 8 or 9 inches deep, 22 stories up! I think I might have puked. If I HAD to do it because I got up there and found out what the task was but we'd lose too much time by switching to someone else, then I would have done it - I can buck up and power through when need be. But that would pretty much be my worst nightmare...well, if they had large bugs crawling in my hair and down my shirt while I walked the ledge THAT would be my worst nightmare, but the ledge would be pretty bad all on its own.
I'm not good with heights, and that ledge was really narrow, and going around the columns and such...(shudder). And then to have to lay down and look over the side to read the plaque? Oh, man. Oh, man. That would just be...man. The one bright spot watching that sequence was Matt R.'s legs. Did you see his thighs? That Brooke is a lucky woman. Hit it, girl.
So, they all get the plaque clue and head to Founders Hall, where the Southies proceed to - focus on the clue? No. They proceed to fight like 14-year-olds in the parking lot wasting time until the Geniuses got there. Boys, boys, boys. Let's knock the testosterone down a notch and remember why you're there. You can duke it out later after the hunt it over. I'm glad they're still in it, actually. I do like the Southies.
I'm less pleased that the Geniuses are still in it, though. I was really hoping they'd be eliminated. I like the Ex-CIA guys well enough, and Francis and Charles are so annoying. But we're stuck with them for the finals. So long as they don't win, it's okay.
You know I want Air Force to win. That's a given. I should be jealous of people that young, successful, capable, athletic, good-looking, happily married, etc. but I can't help it. On top of everything else, they're not arrogant - they just seem to represent America's finest. They just rock. Go Air Force!!
If Southies win, it's okay. Not ideal, but fine. Just so long as the Geniuses don't win. Ang, we may have to watch together next week in case we need to console one another.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Throw in a free chicken leg.
I had a mostly quiet weekend - getting a ton of stuff done around the house, but barely venturing outside my door. I hung out at Vangie and Dave's Friday night, which was fun, except for us wanting to beat the Domino's delivery guy with Vangie's crutches (that subject line is a shout out to you, V). We ordered pizza and cinnastix (because cinnastix are super fantastic), and it didn't go right from the get-go. We couldn't find a coupon, and then they didn't offer the special that V&D thought they'd heard about, and we'd based our order on the special, so we hung up, regrouped, called back and decided to suck it up and pay full price and just order what we wanted even if it wasn't on special. This all took WAY longer than it should have and we were starving by the time we ordered.
The guy finally shows up like 45 minutes to an hour after we placed our order (remember the old days of "30 minutes or it's free"?), and he hands me the boxes, and I see that one is missing. He forgot the cinnastix! Bastard!! Well, we had tipped generously, so he said he'd rush back to the store and get them. After another 45 minutes, we called the store. "Oh, we'll have to make some more." Double bastard! All of them! If we hadn't already paid for them, we'd have been tempted to tell them to cram it, but they already had our money, including a generous tip, so they owed us the damn cinnastix. Another 45 minutes go by (I'm not kidding) and a different driver shows up, hands Dave the box without so much as a "sorry for the inconvenience" or free coupon for our trouble or anything. Grrrr. Stellar customer service, Domino's. Stellar.
Saturday night started out pretty slow but ended well. Ang, Julia and I went to a different area than our usual haunts - trying to shake things up a bit. We started with dinner at the greatest hamburger joint on the planet, Hut's, then hit a few pubs in the immediate area. We gave it a shot, but it was just dead, so we gave up and headed to the Warehouse District.
It was 10:30 by the time we got down there, so we didn't even try to search for free parking - we just paid to park in a lot and headed to Speakeasy. Kelly Doze was playing, and she played a really good show. She throws her hair around alot, which gets distracting, but she does have nice hair, so I guess she's just workin' it. The best part of the evening, though, was that Malford Milligan was there, and he sat in on a few songs, and he just lit the place up. He's really a great performer. He gets on stage and the energy level just jumps. He's a strange-looking guy (it's not too often you see an albino black guy with dreds), but he's one of those people who is doing what he was born to do, and it's always a pleasure to watch someone do something that they do really well. Unless it's something gross, and then it's disturbing. But that's another blog.
The guy finally shows up like 45 minutes to an hour after we placed our order (remember the old days of "30 minutes or it's free"?), and he hands me the boxes, and I see that one is missing. He forgot the cinnastix! Bastard!! Well, we had tipped generously, so he said he'd rush back to the store and get them. After another 45 minutes, we called the store. "Oh, we'll have to make some more." Double bastard! All of them! If we hadn't already paid for them, we'd have been tempted to tell them to cram it, but they already had our money, including a generous tip, so they owed us the damn cinnastix. Another 45 minutes go by (I'm not kidding) and a different driver shows up, hands Dave the box without so much as a "sorry for the inconvenience" or free coupon for our trouble or anything. Grrrr. Stellar customer service, Domino's. Stellar.
Saturday night started out pretty slow but ended well. Ang, Julia and I went to a different area than our usual haunts - trying to shake things up a bit. We started with dinner at the greatest hamburger joint on the planet, Hut's, then hit a few pubs in the immediate area. We gave it a shot, but it was just dead, so we gave up and headed to the Warehouse District.
It was 10:30 by the time we got down there, so we didn't even try to search for free parking - we just paid to park in a lot and headed to Speakeasy. Kelly Doze was playing, and she played a really good show. She throws her hair around alot, which gets distracting, but she does have nice hair, so I guess she's just workin' it. The best part of the evening, though, was that Malford Milligan was there, and he sat in on a few songs, and he just lit the place up. He's really a great performer. He gets on stage and the energy level just jumps. He's a strange-looking guy (it's not too often you see an albino black guy with dreds), but he's one of those people who is doing what he was born to do, and it's always a pleasure to watch someone do something that they do really well. Unless it's something gross, and then it's disturbing. But that's another blog.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Salsa: ego destroyer
Before I start my salsa recap, I have to share this footage from last season that should've have tipped all of us off about OU's cheatin' ways. How did we miss that?
Allright. Let's talk about ducks...I mean dance. (For those of you who don't know, that's a reference to "Greater Tuna" - one of the funniest freakin' shows I've ever seen. If you're from Texas, especially, and you don't know about "Greater Tuna," you have missed one of the greatest all-time commentaries on West Texas culture ever. I swear to god I'm related to these characters. I've spent holidays with them. Go to the site I've linked to, and watch the video clips listed in the upper right corner. There are more clips at the page for "A Tuna Christmas." Okay, talking about salsa - I mean it.) My salsa class just keeps getting harder - partly because the steps are getting more complicated and partly because our female instructor keeps NOT coming to class, making it harder for us to figure out what the one, male instructor wants us to do. He shows us steps, but until we see how it works with a partner, it doesn't make any sense. It doesn't help that the instructor has an Indian accent and yells out all of our instructions making him really hard to understand at times.
This week was particularly annoying because in addition to the yelling and accent, he had 'tude. I guess he was annoyed that the female instructor wasn't there...I guess...I'll be generous. But whatever it was, he needed to stow it. He would show us the step, too fast and without explaining exactly what the steps were all supposed to be leading up to, then he'd get annoyed when we didn't understand and would ask him to show us certain steps again. Uh-uh. We PAID for this class, Mr. Prissy. You're not doing us a favor. If we're all not getting it, it's not because we're idiots - it's because you're not teaching it very well. So, chill with the attitude and figure out a way to get the move across. That or let's just throw down and get it over with. You're not much bigger than I am, and I'm wily - I could take you, pal.
This leads us to Rico. I couldn't take Rico this week. The steps were too confusing, and I didn't need him critiquing me. So, I watched as we arranged ourselves in a circle and lined myself up so that I wouldn't make it around the circle to him until late in the class. I'd hoped I could avoid him all together, but no such luck - I did have to dance with him once. And it was all I dreamed it would be. He sang/mouthed the beats of the music (bah, bah, BAH, bah, bah, BAH), which made looking at him impossible. And while he was somewhat normal for most of the steps, I guess because they were confusing, when we got to one that he was confident about, he threw himself around like an epileptic, swinging his hips and shoulders like he was some kind of Latin dance champ whose abuela had imbued him with the rhythm of dance since the crib. DUDE! You are a short, dorky white guy. STOP it!!!
The Hunkster remained humbled this week, however his shirt was again splashed with cologne. How does he not see that? And he and The Girlfriend kept making out everytime they ended up together. Get. A. Room.
I give props to everyone else in the class, though. Everyone did a great job on a difficult series of steps and was patient when their partner wasn't quite getting something. And it was really cute watching some of the guys as their confidence levels rose. Is that emasculating to call their confidence cute?
Allright. Let's talk about ducks...I mean dance. (For those of you who don't know, that's a reference to "Greater Tuna" - one of the funniest freakin' shows I've ever seen. If you're from Texas, especially, and you don't know about "Greater Tuna," you have missed one of the greatest all-time commentaries on West Texas culture ever. I swear to god I'm related to these characters. I've spent holidays with them. Go to the site I've linked to, and watch the video clips listed in the upper right corner. There are more clips at the page for "A Tuna Christmas." Okay, talking about salsa - I mean it.) My salsa class just keeps getting harder - partly because the steps are getting more complicated and partly because our female instructor keeps NOT coming to class, making it harder for us to figure out what the one, male instructor wants us to do. He shows us steps, but until we see how it works with a partner, it doesn't make any sense. It doesn't help that the instructor has an Indian accent and yells out all of our instructions making him really hard to understand at times.
This week was particularly annoying because in addition to the yelling and accent, he had 'tude. I guess he was annoyed that the female instructor wasn't there...I guess...I'll be generous. But whatever it was, he needed to stow it. He would show us the step, too fast and without explaining exactly what the steps were all supposed to be leading up to, then he'd get annoyed when we didn't understand and would ask him to show us certain steps again. Uh-uh. We PAID for this class, Mr. Prissy. You're not doing us a favor. If we're all not getting it, it's not because we're idiots - it's because you're not teaching it very well. So, chill with the attitude and figure out a way to get the move across. That or let's just throw down and get it over with. You're not much bigger than I am, and I'm wily - I could take you, pal.
This leads us to Rico. I couldn't take Rico this week. The steps were too confusing, and I didn't need him critiquing me. So, I watched as we arranged ourselves in a circle and lined myself up so that I wouldn't make it around the circle to him until late in the class. I'd hoped I could avoid him all together, but no such luck - I did have to dance with him once. And it was all I dreamed it would be. He sang/mouthed the beats of the music (bah, bah, BAH, bah, bah, BAH), which made looking at him impossible. And while he was somewhat normal for most of the steps, I guess because they were confusing, when we got to one that he was confident about, he threw himself around like an epileptic, swinging his hips and shoulders like he was some kind of Latin dance champ whose abuela had imbued him with the rhythm of dance since the crib. DUDE! You are a short, dorky white guy. STOP it!!!
The Hunkster remained humbled this week, however his shirt was again splashed with cologne. How does he not see that? And he and The Girlfriend kept making out everytime they ended up together. Get. A. Room.
I give props to everyone else in the class, though. Everyone did a great job on a difficult series of steps and was patient when their partner wasn't quite getting something. And it was really cute watching some of the guys as their confidence levels rose. Is that emasculating to call their confidence cute?
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Random thoughts, again
Just feel like doing random thoughts today. So, here are a few.
1. War. Dammit.
2. What the hell is wrong with Mel Gibson?
3. Clay Aiken's got a new album coming out. Guess that's why he made a guest appearance on the last American Idol. The fact that he looked like a scary Pee Wee Herman runway model (or more accurately, Paul Reubens with black, shag-style hair but still in a suit) during that appearance can't help sales. Oh, and it's only got about 3 original songs. Has it completely escaped him that the idols who are selling well are doing original material?
4. Rhett Bomar has been kicked off the OU football team. I figured he must've murdered Bob Stoops' entire family right in front of him for Stoops to actually kick him off the team, but apparently it was just your usual booster corruption - paying players. I assume the NCAA was about to find out and do serious harm to OU or they would've tried to shut it down and cover it up. I'm not saying that because it's OU. I imagine all the big teams have to fight that kind of thing. You can control what your program does, but not what boosters do, and nobody wants to lose their star players if they can avoid it without getting bitch-slapped by the NCAA. So, a bitch-slappin' must've been on the way. Do these stupid boosters never learn?
5. Sales tax holiday this weekend. Crowds should be insane, but I need a few things, and it'd be nice to escape the extra 8.25%. I'm only good for about an hour and a half of shopping anyway, so maybe I'll dive in on Saturday. Could take me an hour and a half just to park. Oh, and if I do go shopping, I'm not even going to *think* about either of the outlet malls - the one in San Marcos or the new one in Round Rock. Those places are going to be out of control.
6. What the hell is wrong with Mel Gibson?
7. High today: 99 degrees. Whatever.
8. Floyd Landis. Did he cheat? I don't think so. If I understand it right, testosterone only helps over a long period of time. So, boosting it for one day wouldn't really do anything. So, why would you do it for no benefit and risk being disqualified? A boost in testosterone wouldn't account for his comeback, correct? On the other hand, he hasn't been as strident with his denials as he should've been, which makes you wonder. I think he's going to go down, partially because they could never nail Lance for doping (if you can't get one American champion, get another), but I think the truth will be a long-time coming. If he didn't do anything wrong, I feel for him. If he did, then he shouldn't have the title.
9. Texadelphia cheesesteak. That's good eatin'. (I'd put a photo of one right here, but Blogger is being difficult about uploading a picture.)
10. Tropical Storm Chris is weakening and breaking up. Good.
1. War. Dammit.
2. What the hell is wrong with Mel Gibson?
3. Clay Aiken's got a new album coming out. Guess that's why he made a guest appearance on the last American Idol. The fact that he looked like a scary Pee Wee Herman runway model (or more accurately, Paul Reubens with black, shag-style hair but still in a suit) during that appearance can't help sales. Oh, and it's only got about 3 original songs. Has it completely escaped him that the idols who are selling well are doing original material?
4. Rhett Bomar has been kicked off the OU football team. I figured he must've murdered Bob Stoops' entire family right in front of him for Stoops to actually kick him off the team, but apparently it was just your usual booster corruption - paying players. I assume the NCAA was about to find out and do serious harm to OU or they would've tried to shut it down and cover it up. I'm not saying that because it's OU. I imagine all the big teams have to fight that kind of thing. You can control what your program does, but not what boosters do, and nobody wants to lose their star players if they can avoid it without getting bitch-slapped by the NCAA. So, a bitch-slappin' must've been on the way. Do these stupid boosters never learn?
5. Sales tax holiday this weekend. Crowds should be insane, but I need a few things, and it'd be nice to escape the extra 8.25%. I'm only good for about an hour and a half of shopping anyway, so maybe I'll dive in on Saturday. Could take me an hour and a half just to park. Oh, and if I do go shopping, I'm not even going to *think* about either of the outlet malls - the one in San Marcos or the new one in Round Rock. Those places are going to be out of control.
6. What the hell is wrong with Mel Gibson?
7. High today: 99 degrees. Whatever.
8. Floyd Landis. Did he cheat? I don't think so. If I understand it right, testosterone only helps over a long period of time. So, boosting it for one day wouldn't really do anything. So, why would you do it for no benefit and risk being disqualified? A boost in testosterone wouldn't account for his comeback, correct? On the other hand, he hasn't been as strident with his denials as he should've been, which makes you wonder. I think he's going to go down, partially because they could never nail Lance for doping (if you can't get one American champion, get another), but I think the truth will be a long-time coming. If he didn't do anything wrong, I feel for him. If he did, then he shouldn't have the title.
9. Texadelphia cheesesteak. That's good eatin'. (I'd put a photo of one right here, but Blogger is being difficult about uploading a picture.)
10. Tropical Storm Chris is weakening and breaking up. Good.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
An open letter of apology...
to my alarm. I am a giant moron. Yes, I checked to see if the alarm time was a.m. or p.m., if the radio was on a station, if the volume was up enough. But I failed to check one other crucial element: if the actual, current time was set properly on a.m. or p.m. That's right - my clock thought it was 6 p.m., not 6 a.m. It was operator error after all. I send a mea culpa out to the little machine that intrudes upon my sleep every morning. I even had a picture of my bedside table with the abused little device where it lives, but I don't have it with me on this computer.
But lest you all think I'm completely useless with machinery or mechanical things, I *did* fix my passenger side seatbelt this weekend, all on my own. So, those of you who have been taking your life in your hands, riding in my car with a seatbelt that wouldn't fasten, you can now ride safely again. See. I can do things.
On a completely different note, I saw this trailer today, and since I'm both a writer AND a Will Ferrell fanatic, this movie will be a must-see for me. I like Emma Thompson, too, so that'll be good. Too bad I have to wait until November.
Oh, and I have a Laugh Out Loud Moment of the Day. This morning, "The Man With One Red Shoe" was playing on one my movie channels (yes, my movie channels suck). This is Tom Hanks, circa 1985, still in his comedy phase. I like Tom Hanks in his comedy phase, so I put it on while I got ready for work. The best line wasn't Tom's, though. It was by the guy who played Squiggy on Laverne and Shirley, David Landers. His character was a spy who had been unfortunately assigned to roaming the sewers - I don't even remember why (I tuned in too late to see why and don't remember from when I first saw this movie 21 years ago). But well into the movie, he'd had enough of the nastiness that is a sewer. He began to lose it, then he stopped himself and said resolutely, "What would Gordon Liddy do?" And that was it - I laughed out loud. Gordon Liddy. I'm grinning just remembering it. Pretty good to start your day with a laugh out loud before you even leave the house.
But lest you all think I'm completely useless with machinery or mechanical things, I *did* fix my passenger side seatbelt this weekend, all on my own. So, those of you who have been taking your life in your hands, riding in my car with a seatbelt that wouldn't fasten, you can now ride safely again. See. I can do things.
On a completely different note, I saw this trailer today, and since I'm both a writer AND a Will Ferrell fanatic, this movie will be a must-see for me. I like Emma Thompson, too, so that'll be good. Too bad I have to wait until November.
Oh, and I have a Laugh Out Loud Moment of the Day. This morning, "The Man With One Red Shoe" was playing on one my movie channels (yes, my movie channels suck). This is Tom Hanks, circa 1985, still in his comedy phase. I like Tom Hanks in his comedy phase, so I put it on while I got ready for work. The best line wasn't Tom's, though. It was by the guy who played Squiggy on Laverne and Shirley, David Landers. His character was a spy who had been unfortunately assigned to roaming the sewers - I don't even remember why (I tuned in too late to see why and don't remember from when I first saw this movie 21 years ago). But well into the movie, he'd had enough of the nastiness that is a sewer. He began to lose it, then he stopped himself and said resolutely, "What would Gordon Liddy do?" And that was it - I laughed out loud. Gordon Liddy. I'm grinning just remembering it. Pretty good to start your day with a laugh out loud before you even leave the house.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Treasure is a pleasure.
I can't tell you how nice it was to watch Treasure Hunters this week without Katye Fogal. What a relief her ouster is.
I enjoyed seeing the other teams disappointed when they found out that Air Force was the fifth surviving team. Yeah, that's right. My boys (and girl) are still in the hunt and ready to kick butts and take names.
The first task was a TAR sort of thing - a choice between two options. I personally would've opted to do the climb, even though it would've been hard. Saint Tropez was just too far. Air Force of course blew through this task like the absolute hottie bad-asses they are. Man, are they they shit! Climb that mountain, baby! Climb it! Show it who's boss!
I thought the Geniuses made a mistake by choosing the climb, but Sam really pushed through his fears and past his physical limitations and came through. I was really proud of him for that. Katye Fogal would've just cried and whined and bitched and given up. Sam just gathered himself and powered through, though. That's awesome, Sam. Francis went a little overboard, though, when he said, "...We climb together. We die together. That's how we roll." I laughed out loud at that last sentiment and rolled my eyes at the one before.
First off, Francis, in light of the fact that we have troops in war zones right now and one of your opposing teams is a military team - people who ACTUALLY have to face the possibility of dying together - your comment makes you appear oblivious. Second, your whole schtick is that you're academic nerds, so the "That's how we roll" thing is like an SNL skit line. I realize you've got tattoos and the mutton chop sideburns and all, but dude. Seriously. Let's take an inventory of who we are.
Okay, the castle. Air Force, I bow before thee. They had that clue in like 10 seconds. I have to think I would've been more like the 3 teams that wandered around trying to figure out how nature fit in, etc. I don't speak French (my brain would reject any attempt), so I wouldn't have been able to read the clue, and I would've been convinced that the keys and nature had something to do with it. At least I wouldn't have been alone in my idiocy. Oh, and once again I ask, does ANYONE ever see those GenWorth clues on the walls, billboards, etc.? ANYONE? EVER? They have yet to show anyone noticing them and yet there they are each week for GenWorth's ad placement.
Of course, AF won the $50k. As well they should! I'd like to point out, by the way, that I predicted last week that AF would shoot into the lead this week. Let's all say it together now: "You were right, Suzanne." Thank you.
Statue of Liberty in Paris. Didn't know there was one. I knew our statue was a gift from France, but I didn't realize it was part of a pair. That statue would've been hard to see in the light conditions the teams were working with. And what was up with Southies, Geniuses and Ex-CIA not having to spot it when they got to the Eiffel Tower? As usual, the crappy editing lost me a bit as to what happened - why they got a call telling them about some cars and they got to skip the whole statue/wash-your-map thing.
Another question once they got to the secret society house. I know AF had to find the secret closet/compartment, using their keys, where the boxes with the artifact were hidden, but did all the other teams also have to find it or was the compartment left open after AF found it? The editing didn't show the other teams finding the compartment - only them opening the boxes. If they didn't have to find the compartment, that seems cheap that they didn't have to figure that out, especially after getting to skip the statue thing. I know Miss USA wasn't that smart, and I'm fine with them being eliminated, but it seems like the other 3 teams had an advantage over them by not having to do figure those two things out.
Okay, guesses on who is out next? I'd like it to be the Geniuses, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's Ex-CIA. They haven't been as smart as I would've expected.
I enjoyed seeing the other teams disappointed when they found out that Air Force was the fifth surviving team. Yeah, that's right. My boys (and girl) are still in the hunt and ready to kick butts and take names.
The first task was a TAR sort of thing - a choice between two options. I personally would've opted to do the climb, even though it would've been hard. Saint Tropez was just too far. Air Force of course blew through this task like the absolute hottie bad-asses they are. Man, are they they shit! Climb that mountain, baby! Climb it! Show it who's boss!
I thought the Geniuses made a mistake by choosing the climb, but Sam really pushed through his fears and past his physical limitations and came through. I was really proud of him for that. Katye Fogal would've just cried and whined and bitched and given up. Sam just gathered himself and powered through, though. That's awesome, Sam. Francis went a little overboard, though, when he said, "...We climb together. We die together. That's how we roll." I laughed out loud at that last sentiment and rolled my eyes at the one before.
First off, Francis, in light of the fact that we have troops in war zones right now and one of your opposing teams is a military team - people who ACTUALLY have to face the possibility of dying together - your comment makes you appear oblivious. Second, your whole schtick is that you're academic nerds, so the "That's how we roll" thing is like an SNL skit line. I realize you've got tattoos and the mutton chop sideburns and all, but dude. Seriously. Let's take an inventory of who we are.
Okay, the castle. Air Force, I bow before thee. They had that clue in like 10 seconds. I have to think I would've been more like the 3 teams that wandered around trying to figure out how nature fit in, etc. I don't speak French (my brain would reject any attempt), so I wouldn't have been able to read the clue, and I would've been convinced that the keys and nature had something to do with it. At least I wouldn't have been alone in my idiocy. Oh, and once again I ask, does ANYONE ever see those GenWorth clues on the walls, billboards, etc.? ANYONE? EVER? They have yet to show anyone noticing them and yet there they are each week for GenWorth's ad placement.
Of course, AF won the $50k. As well they should! I'd like to point out, by the way, that I predicted last week that AF would shoot into the lead this week. Let's all say it together now: "You were right, Suzanne." Thank you.
Statue of Liberty in Paris. Didn't know there was one. I knew our statue was a gift from France, but I didn't realize it was part of a pair. That statue would've been hard to see in the light conditions the teams were working with. And what was up with Southies, Geniuses and Ex-CIA not having to spot it when they got to the Eiffel Tower? As usual, the crappy editing lost me a bit as to what happened - why they got a call telling them about some cars and they got to skip the whole statue/wash-your-map thing.
Another question once they got to the secret society house. I know AF had to find the secret closet/compartment, using their keys, where the boxes with the artifact were hidden, but did all the other teams also have to find it or was the compartment left open after AF found it? The editing didn't show the other teams finding the compartment - only them opening the boxes. If they didn't have to find the compartment, that seems cheap that they didn't have to figure that out, especially after getting to skip the statue thing. I know Miss USA wasn't that smart, and I'm fine with them being eliminated, but it seems like the other 3 teams had an advantage over them by not having to do figure those two things out.
Okay, guesses on who is out next? I'd like it to be the Geniuses, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's Ex-CIA. They haven't been as smart as I would've expected.
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