Feelin' Bookish?

Okay, so i like to read. Apparently you do too if i'm boring you with my ramblings....

So, i've started a second blog dedicated to the newly established book club! This way no matter where you may be, you can see what's cookin' for the next bookworm assembly & share your thoughts: http://bookworms-assemble.blogspot.com/

Gosh, the internet is neat.

Happy reading!
christineeee

Lookout, she's got him in doggie attire!

I've gone & done it... I've dressed my dog.
And worse than that, i've taken pictures.
And on top of all that, i'm sharing these pictures with whomever will give me 10 seconds of their day.


We're getting ready for our trip up to NorCal for gobble-gobble day & i worry about him getting cold.



Yes, i'm aware he has a fur coat.
Yes, i'm aware i live in Southern California where "cold" is anything under 65 degrees
Yes, i'm aware i'm breaking my promise of not being "that kind of dog owner."
Yes, it is a hoody!! How cute, right?

But c'mon, he looks so damn cute! And he actually looks like a boy doggie, yeah!

Put the Christmas lights DOWN. I mean it!

Give turkey-lurky a chance, man.

Okay, so Halloween is over (And remember you only have 356 days to come up with next year's costume people, c'mon, think!), but that does not mean "oh, time to put up the holiday decorations."

No, no, no. Not so fast. It is now time to celebrate fall; with autumn leaves, gourds, cornucopias, chestnuts, football, beer & corny turkey decorations (ahem, see left).

So put the Santa hat away, give it a few more weeks.

And yes, I’m okay with you stringing the lights come November 24th or so, but not a moment sooner.

It's the Great Pumpkin, Jack!

It is official: My parents are grandparents.
Well, maybe it is more like grand-dog-parents...
These three things have happened that lead me to believe we are in a grand-parent-esque situation:
1) First question of any conversation is "How's the cutest dog in the whole wide world?"
2) I cease to exist as a person, i'm now a "we" and that means Jack plus me.
3) If i don't send new pictures on a regular basis, their first thought is "Your camera must be broken!"
















Plus i have taken pictures for the "season" and made copies to stuff in all the Halloween cards. i even have a caption on each one: "Happy Halloween! Woof, Jack"

i'm signing them "jack," yeah, that's right. Wow you say? Yeah, no sh*t.

i know. i'm definitely feeding into the whole thing, but c'mon, you have to admit, Jack really is so goshdarn pretty!

Modern Jezus Loves You -

Okay, so right off the bat mad props have to go to Ms. Miss for this fantastic vignette. You must watch. Excellent find, lady!

Now, this clip is just one more notch of the jesus craze that has been circling in my circles; heralded by the most unlikely candidate who has been bitten with the jesus bug. i don't mean she is wearing the WWJCD bracelets 'n stuff, but we are all becoming camp jesus freaks, with Saved! being the catalyst.

--There's only one reason Christian girls go to Planned Parenthood.

--She has a bomb?!

--Okay, two reasons.

So as much as i'd like to believe my religious upbringing and that an attractive, bearded man in a loin cloth is going to save us all, i think i'd rather laugh about it instead. --and please note, i don't mean that, or any of this dis-respectively; it just happens to be what gets me through. Personal choice.

If you liked the above clip, there are many other modern jesus clips out there! Be forewarned as some are, uhm real/fanatical! But this one is not, so please do not pee your pants while watching this one,'cause i almost did.

And remember, jesus loves us, every one.

(Hopefully you channeled a Tiny Tim voice)

Eyball embedded in a hand - Is this advertising?

A set of teeth super-imposed over an eyeball.
An eyeball lodged in a perfect male chest where the nipple should be.

"Seeing and hearing like never before."

Hmmm, does that just scream Pioneer flat-screen TV to you?
It doesn't to me either.

I have a visceral response to these ads; one of anger, disgust & confusion.

Now i'm all for new, innovative & bizarre advertising, but this really makes me want to vomit.
I literally change the station to anything else when it comes on.

Another ad that prompts this action is the Carl's Jr. "Flat Buns" rap. I notice that after a short while they removed the teacher-turned-play-mate, so now it is only the two scrawny white-boys "rapping." It is sexist, misogynistic & makes any hunger pangs dissipate into nausea.

Now, there are plenty of successful adverts out there, sad thing is i cannot remember them too much... There's the elephant-little-girl with the box-of-light (another lcd-screen type ad). Cute elephant. There are some great beer & car ads.

But the anger-ones are the anger-inducing ones. I guess that serves their purpose, argh!

Broken Dictionaries

Was there a recall on dictionaries that i missed...?
i don't think so, but i thought i'd ask before i begin my latest diatribe.

Now the reason i ask is have y'all ever had an understanding of a word, term, phrase and then someone else challenges your understanding? i know battles have been waged over a misconstrued conversation, but i'm talking super simple words, such as "tomorrow."

Hmmm, last time i checked, tomorrow meant the day following the present day. Let's consult my trusty dictionary, which literally resides at my right elbow at my desk:
Tomorrow: noun - 1. The day following today. 2. The near future.
adverb - On or for the day following today.

Okay, so "near future" is a secondary definition. How do i quantify that? i mean "near future" is kinda relative. In terms of the universe the "near future" is my birth & death. To a toddler, the "near future" is within 30 seconds. Hmm. So to an adult male i guess tomorrow lies somewhere in-between the two... Damn dictionary. It was supposed to be on my side!

That said, the common usage of "tomorrow" is within a 24-hour period, and the person utilizing this term ain't no walking dictionary, so i think my definition is solid.

PS: Sorry for all the quotation marks.

LAST Thursdah -

Okay, so plumbing saga aside, i had myself a nice little Thursday planned... We were going to go see Mr. Damien Rice & pretty lady bird sing at the Greek, wheee!
Uhm, no, not quite.

So i pick up sassy-pants & i stop at a gas station 'cause i'm low on gas. i give the clerk $15 and go pump gas,. I get back in the car & we're driving and my gas light turns on. Hmmm. Well, i probably just forgot to close the gas cap all the way, my Mom has mentioned this issue with this truck-y before, no problem.

We get to the Greek & icky stack parking. I twist the cap on & we are off to trek up the hill. As we enter the rod-iron gates, i hear the trickling of "f*** you" (Rootless Tree, effing beautiful song about the anguish of breaking up with someone. Have Kleenex on standby, seriously, no joking, it's devastating. This version is acoustic & 100 times better than the album's version.).

It's just after 8 pm & the main event has started, sheesh! Rootless Tree, AKA the "Eff you song" was the mascot for the evening & our new mantra. Please don't be offended if we start sing-screaming this lyric, nothing to be alarmed about, just the usual crazy.

We scurry to our seats. Pretty cool set, bare with a couple chandeliers hanging & stark lighting. Mr. Rice sings. And sings. And sings. By himself. Uhm, where's Lisa Hannigan, people? This is killing mommy. His voice is rough & grating... By 9:15 pm, stage-fright or no stage-fright, Lisa isn't coming... (when we saw them perform when they first broke-out, she hid in the shadows singing).

So a 2 & 1/2 hour show... which for about an hour i folded a gum wrapper into various shapes. At one point we were chatting close together as not to disturb our fellow listeners with our mocking of the eye-closed prodigy groaning on stage and the woman behind me taps me on the shoulder to tell me she can't see if i lean over... Uhm, yeah.

The high-light was his encore story & rendition of "Cheers darlin'" it's a bit long, 10 minutes, but it's rather awesome. There are lots of versions of it online, during our show he drank an entire bottle of wine & smoked at least 2 cigs & ended with snow falling on the stage as he walked offstage. It was like a little play. A tad dramatic, but kinda great. He had this whole thing about "his elbow touched hers & she pushed back" or so he thought... And how magical the first time elbows meet can be...

Let's see... we leave the Greek sad & disappointed that the lovely Lisa Hannigan has left the band.
We get in the car & the gas light is still on. Great, one other thing i managed to break.

We go to Fred 62, i have a scary soup but the Hippie Sandwich did not disappoint.

We head home. Tired, cold & saddened that what made the music of Damien Rice has been greatly diminished.
We're on the 10 heading West & right before Fairfax, i detect a problem. Car is winding down. We need gas. There isn't anything on Fairfax...

We make it to the La Cienga exit, over Cadillac but then we're stopped at the light at La Cienga. The gas station is just across the street & the car dies. Sassy-pants & i look at each other, wordlessly remove our respective scarves (each getting tangled naturally) and we leap outta the car.

I pop it in neutral, she runs to the back & we start pushing. And pushing. I thought we were just going to the side, but there's a break in traffic so we go for it, like we're an unwieldy 2 year old, we huff & puff across the 6-lane street via the crosswalk. There's a guy standing on the street and Sassy starts yelling "you're just going to stand there & let 2 girls push a truck across the street?!" and brow beats him verbally into helping us. She's so pissed, she doesn't even thank him.

There's a dip & we're in the gas station picking up speed and i'm able to pull the car back & put the break on. The closest pump is Super-Special Gas, but i don't care, anything will do. I go to plug the nozzle in & i'm about 1/2 a foot short. We push once again & fill up the green-machine.

We get in the car & drive away (not after being solicited by a gent raising funds for vets) and we immediately start laughing. I mean REALLY laughing. Laughing so that my stomach ached & i was crying. Yes, while driving... not so smart, but by this time it was 12:30 am & no one was on the road.

In case you were wondering & have made it to the end of this story, no, the Greek theater is not 40 miles away. When i stopped for gas at the beginning of the story, i neglected to actually put the gas into my car. Yeah. Can we say i've been a bit outta-my-mind lately? The good news is that as of Tuesday, my backyard is back in one piece & i can use all water related facilities to their fullest capabilities.

Tales of a plumbing disaster --

Hello, my friends. I don't even know where to begin. The last 48 hours have been amazing. So, i'm compelled to share with you the details of my experiences, as i believe y'all will find them humorous and maybe instructional... This is only the plumbing disaster. i'm not even going into what happened Thursday night yet, that's another post, 'cause this one is already a monster.

Wednesday 8:30 AM: I'm just about ready to go to work, almost. i flush the toilet & instead of going down it comes up & over the bowl & won't stop. Slippers are flung off behind me & bail-out mode commences . i use my big tea mug (with still plenty of tea in it) to bail into the bathtub. After about 2 minutes it stops. Jack is barking and trying to get in, past the towel brigade i threw down on the ground & is already soaked through. I grab more towels and begin plunging. I flush again & the waterfall begins once again. Bail out mode & then everything is in about 1 inch of water & we're at a stopping point.

Next step: Call my best gal & she is on the way with a hefty plunger (wooden handle & all, see pic!) within 10 minutes. I call work & say there's been a delay, hopefully in by 11 am [ahh, little did i know i meant 11 am Monday morning]. Heavy-duty plunging begins (see pic). No love. The toilet is still unhappy, but only water now & my tea mug will never be the same.

Next step: Call in reinforments. Luckily, my gal has a good friend who is a plumber. We call Craig & he tells us to just plunge it.... Uhm, Craig, we're straddling toilets here, it ain't working. He comes over & thinks we need to snake it.

12 PM: Call some snake guys, total creeps & won't do it, 'cause there is no clean out [A "clean out" is a supplemental outpost for icky things to come away from your house... so your sink doesn't overflow, it goes through the clean-out. Each drain should have one.] The house had a clean-out for every other #$)%? drain, but not one for the toilet, of course.

2 PM: Craig comes back with reinforcements & they crawl under the house & dig a bit to make a clean-out, yeah!

3:45 PM: The clean-out is ready. The large snake only goes about 5 feet & then nothing. After several tries, Craig returns with a smaller snake. It goes about 8 feet & comes back with icky roots, upon roots & sludge & a rag (?!?). Craig reports that he's never not been able to get this small snake through. Naturally, my situation breaks that trend. We're gonna have to dig & we think we have to dig IN the garage. That's right, the concrete slabbed garage. i call my tenant to let him know he needs his cars outta the garage by 8am. oh, and don't use the toliet or shower. NICE.

Thursday, 8 AM: Measure out where the issue is. Now, sewer lines are generally laid in the street, each edifice is responsible for their own sewer line & the connection to the main line. It appears that my casa is no exception, there's a man-hole just past my house. We determine the line isn't in the garage, but right outside it, hurrah! Hole #1 is begun about 5 feet from the clean-out. Jack-hammering through brick, mortar & concrete. Dig through hard packed dirt & roots.

10:30 AM: And dig. Dig for over five feet down, nothing. NO PIPE. Sh*t. So now we have to make a hole right outside the under-the house access, where we KNOW the pipe is. And dig...

2 PM: And dig. 6 feet down & there's a pipe, a sewer pipe, awesome. More digging & we cut a piece of the pipe out & get the camera scope through. Not a root problem. A cracked pipe with metal jutting out, obstructing about half the pipe. Of course the camera won't go any further. We know we're going to replace this section of pipe, but we can't see past to see if that is it. Also, the pipe is going out, perpendicular from the house...

3 PM: We have to dig another hole. This one is about 4 feet South of hole #2. This one is about 8 feet deep. This concludes Thursday.

Friday 8 AM: 8 foot hole, needs to be dug out underneath from the pipe. We've found where the laundry meets the sewer, right before the city line... very odd, very cruddy & deteriorated. Another joint is unearthed & it is completely clogged with roots. Are we having fun yet, or what?

10 AM: We've cut the pipe & are camera scoping and there is this weird section that the camera can't get through. Cut into the pipe and a section has the top half of it collapsed into itself with muck stuck in it. The whole old cruddy sewer line is broken-up & removed.

1:30 PM: We're camera scoping again & we've snuck a water hose down the entire length of the tunnel & guess what?!? We get ALL THE WAY TO THE CITY LINE. No way. And the city line is running great, i see where my neighbor's lines funnel in & everything is running swimmingly.

2 PM: Game plan: Replace the main line & hook it all up in 1.5 hours. Now we have to trench out a whole section to re-pipe the laundry's drain, that will happen tomorrow. Restore the backyard will begin Monday.

4 PM: I can flush the toilet! The rest has to wait, because why? oh, it starts RAINING. And it is still raining. Great.

For other pics of this event, check out Craig's website (yup, my problem is already emblematic for drain replacements, apparently. The first 2 aren't me, but the rest certainly are. Have your dirt pile over here, your-- Yeah, i'm channeling Money Pit).

Oh, Jack ~ More mis-adventures of a puppy bladder

Just when i though carbon wee-wee pads had saved the day, Jack's bladder strikes again! This time on a pal's shirt, shorts & a pillow. YUM.

So i think this is just Jack staking his territory a bit & letting everyone know he shall not be ignored... And in his defense 1) the back-door wasn't open and 2) the bathroom door was closed; but usually that just leaves the hall or the living room as fair game. Not the far corner of my bedroom where unsuspecting articles of clothing got drenched in puppy pee. I just hope this isn't a new trend....

Ode to carbon-based wee-wee pads

Who ever invented carbon-wee-wee pads is a genius.
Not that the potty training is over, oh, no, but we're getting more hits with the new pads than ever before!

They dry up within a few minutes & Jack can use one pad for about 24 hours! hot-diggity-damn, folks! So instead of spending $3 a day for these things, we are down to less than $1. See, genius!

I know, I know, why-oh-why am i torturing y'all with this? This is why: Someday you or someone you heart will have a dog that needs to be house-broken & you will recall this random post. And as Jack's bladder basically rules my world these days [sad!] i thought i'd share a bit-o'-sunshine about it.

(The picture is not of the carbon-ones, they are pink)

ah, the information age

In this day and age, one can find out tons of information on virtually anyone. This is both good and scary as it is getting easier and easier to build up knowledge [ammunition?] about the ones we know and even those we don't.

i'm not a malicious person. i'm not vengeful person either, but it occurred to me as of late that it is far too easy to tarnish someone's image. This is by no means meant to be a threat; just merely an observation.

My roundabout point: Why eff with people? It seems to me that this reality would encourage people to play nice in the sandbox. Everyone knows a good reputation is very hard-earned and it doesn't take much to have that reputation sullied.

I mean the fact that on job interviews you are googled, checked out on myspace and other similar sites by your prospective employer is point-in-case. If that is the way it is for all things corporate, think of how easy it is for not so passive audience members to wreck havoc.

My B-day: In a nutshell

Here are a few snaps from my weekend of merriment!
Thanks to my peeps that made this a special b-day celebration!

Thank goodness for chocolate butter cream frosting, 'cause the original plan of white chocolate frosting turned out like boiled chicken broth. What a waste of four cups of white chocolate!









Jack gettin' his drink on! In case there were any doubts before, he is definitely my dog.









The gals at d-land, pre-tiara donning. Mer is there too, but she's taking this pic!
We went on Finding Nemo (finally, the yellow subs are back!), Indy, Splash Mountain, Haunted House, Pirates (yo ho!), Thunder Mountain, Matterhorn, Snow's Scary Adventures & ate sundaes for dinner. Now if that doesn't constitute for a happy day, i don't know what does!









And here's the aftermath of Jack... Can you tell he missed us?!
You can't see it in this pic (i decided to be discerning), but he decided to poop in the bathtub. Guess i now know he can get in and out of the tub on his own accord. Oh, boy!

Superbad-ass!

Go see Superbad. You must. You will not be disappointed, I promise.

I've been good about staying away from the trailers, endless promos & posters; as I wanted an as pure as possible viewing experience.

Two hours of hilarity, my gawd. Seth Rogen is a genius. (And yes, i still want to marry him).

Ya know when you see a movie & as your driving home you're thinking "I can't wait to own the DVD." You know you hearted it. I am already picturing the thin case sittin' pretty alongside Anchorman, 40-year-old Virgin & Old School.

So go, my friends & enjoy this summer treat that is low-cal & fan-effin'-tastic.

(And for the first time in my life, i just actually may have pen-is envy.)

Grifith Observatory: RECAP

So even though Keanu nor the Rocketeer greeted me on our arrival to the Observatory & it was socked-in with fog, we had a lovely time.

The tram ride up was not my favorite, it took about 30 minutes as Norah Jones was at the Greek, but once we saw the gleaming domes, it was all worth it.

The planetarium show was good, although the lady leading it was a bit theatrical... i admit, i did take a little snooze at one point 'cause 1) those seats are comfy now! 2) it was dark 3) i'd only had about 7 hours of sleep over the previous two nights.... (Puppy's first night was the day before.)

We also got to look through super-telescopes and peep out stars that are millions of years away, talk about feeling insignificant!

So if you haven't been, go, my darlings! Bring a picnic, a blanky & your chums and enjoy the spectacular views & ambience of this historic space.

**Oh, the tram ride had a kinda cheesy, semi-informative, definitely patriotic propaganda video... just to forewarn ya.

Public Restrooms + Cell Phones = Not Okay

I know we're all really busy.
I know we all think we're very important.
But seriously, talking on the celly while you're in the loo? not right, not right.

I mean, you may not care that your pal on the other line is hearing you tinkle, but i may not be so okay with it.

Not that i consider public restrooms a private place, but a little tact (i.e., hang up the gawddamn phone) isn't really asking much.

My brain has eeked out my left ear a bit, me thinks

Okay, so granted I suddenly have a puppy & my routine has had to change a bit...
This is week one. I'm learning. Jack's learning. And then I’m re-learning.

That said, I’ve now made THREE DMV appointments this week to renew my driver's license and I can do finally do it in good faith 'cause I really, really, really have my renewal form this time. (Not sure how it got from my purse to the floor of my office, but hey.)

But I’m just not functioning as well as I usually do [please read as relative!].
For instance, I left my wallet at PetCo & didn't realize it until 6 hours later...
My rambles have gotten even more intricate and random...
I've snapped at people...
I am making those around me nervous, 'cause I don't generally lose it. I've lost it now 3 times this week, meh. But they also love me & know that this is a time of transition!

So, please be patient as I adjust.

Also, I’m swearing to all of you that I am going to do my absolute darn-edest to not become one of THOSE dog owners. Not to say Jack may not have a little bling & organic food, but, uhm, I’m still gonna be me, right?! My poor admin staff... I must talk about cleaning-up after Jack at least 4 times a day... Again, this is week one. Hopefully poop won't be nearly so interesting next week...which I hope means it will no longer find its way onto my hardwood floors. Fingers crossed!

Meet Jack ~

ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness.

It has happened: I am a officially a dog owner. ohmygoodness.

My early birthday present arrived Friday afternoon with a fanfare of parents, sis & shane and my absolute shock.

Can we just say oh.my.goodness.

So far he is mr. mellow, but does love shoes and his squeaky toys...

And they called it puppy love...

Griffith Observatory, here we come!

Guess, what?! i'm finally going to check-out the NEW Griffith Observatory. SO exciting!!

The glamorous old films of my youth thrown into memory once again... And more, ahem, recent projects such as The Rocketeer... Paula Abdul's video Rush, Rush and even more truly recent debacles such as Transformers, meh.

I've two very fond memories of this special place: One, as a kid we visited & it felt magical. They used to (i hope maybe it is still there?!) have this machine that made a rocket out of molten plastic. I think i may still have it, Mom?

The second memory is already 8-years-old, from the SC days when writing, recruiting, shooting, printing, editing, scoring and everything else that goes into making a short film was a process i endured every three weeks. I tortured my ever-patient roommate in a film I shot at the observatory. We were renegades, as i never got a permit to shoot there... Ohh, what a rebel.

So here's to shooting stars, alabaster columns and peaceful archways, Griffith Observatory, here we come!

The Power of Solitaire

So, I’ve once again fallen into the habit of playing mindless computer card games.

It's not that I don't have things to do, but I do enjoy the zone of 30-60 minutes of doing nothing but listening to itunes & kicking some solitaire booty.

Whoa, I've got problems. What's the deal? And then I realize that I need to schedule-in zone time, literally block it out on the calendar and make sure it is zone time AWAY from the computer.

But I was productive (in a self-reflexive type of way), as I was musing on what to post while sucking at Spider, it came to me: exactly what I was doing, the computer zone.

I don't want to think of the hours I’ve wasted in the last 20 years playing stupid card games on the computer. Let alone add up the hours as a human race, talk about unproductive time we could be investing in a myriad of things, from the banal to the exceptional.

But I get sucked in, man. And I know I am hardly alone. The shock that time has melted away and all these other things I should, could, would have been doing hurtle into the right-side of my brain.

And then I choose "Yes, I'd like to start a new game." Blast!

PS: Here's a scary fact: "Children, ages 8 to 18, spend more time (44.5 hours per week) in front of computer, television, and game screens than they spend on any other activity in their lives except sleeping (Kaiser Family Foundation, 2005.)." The links to computer/TV viewing and the fact that one-third of America's youth are overweight (15% of that number in the obese category) is hardly a coincidence. ew. What happened to playing outside & having the refrigerator box being the best toy EVER?!?
More info of this scary vein can be seen at MediaWise.

It Is Not Okay -

Just a quick word to the wise: do not pet people.

One pets dogs, cats, chinchillas, etc, fine & dandy.

You do not, with the palm of your hand pat or pet the top of someone who is human on the head.
You just don't, it's demeaning and icky.

My-oh-my, photos i spy!

Hey, boys & girls, now hear this! My best gal has gone and jump-started her enterprise, craft, art & career all in one neat-o package.
It is official, the photography site is up, take a peek and share with you're pals:

http://www.saritphotography.com/

Here's to those with the courage and talent to blend their passions to their profession.
i'm in awe of you.

Oh, Harry...

Do not worry, i am certainly not going to talk about the plot, nor any of the contents of this last installment of HP. That's just rude. If you want the cliff notes version, see wikipedia. They had the plot outlined in less than an hour after the release.

I just wanted to say, i've finished. i'm not gloating. it's just been a weekend of jam-packed fun, so i started a bit late. If anyone wants to chat about it -- i'm ready now! so ring me, email me!

If you know me at all, you know i'm a fan of HP. But the main reason for my full endorsement & enjoyment is simply this: When in our lifetimes have people stayed up for hours upon hours to purchase a book & then devour it? And by people, i mean PEOPLE. It warms my sentimental heart that kids and adults alike are EXCITED & PROUD about reading. Whoa. Being a certified bookworm my entire life, i feel like a true revenge of the nerds has transpired in recent years as many of us clamour to know the fate of the wizarding world.

That said, here's the anger: There is now this glamour associated with being in the know, regardless if one is a reader of HP or not. It's suddenly very hip to "know" and apparently gloat about it. WTF? I alone have had 5 experiences in the last 36 hours of people yapping-- openly, publicly, about the plot. So uncool. And mind you, for over 8 hours of that time i was driving back to LA, another 8 i was sleeping and another 8 i was reading.

I admit, some HP fans are haughty, exclusive and possessive at times. But that is certainly no reason for going around spouting off "Can you believe blah, blah, blah" in public places. The fates of Rowling's characters are not to be taken lightly. And that behavior is just unkind, mean-spirited and so un-gryffindor.

I stuck my fingers in my ears and "la-la-la-ed" the three haughty Marin-ites away from me. I than fled out of a store this morning as my best pal shouted behind me (not un-curselike) "She hasn't finished yet, stop!" Not to mention the barrage of newscoverage on the event. I just want to read my book in peace! So please, if you've not finished/started; just enjoy the book, read at your leisure, just be prepared to ear-muff it as you don't want some prat to ruin your experience, expecations and enjoyment.

Okay, sorry. I just-- i'm tired of the selfish & oblivious.

On a much, much happier note: Dare I say? books may be getting a reputation of cool. i guess that is something we may consider thanking he-who-must-not-be-named for...

Ode to Explorer (Not really an ode, sadly, more just a dedication)

Road trip, road trip, road trip, yeah!

Okay, i'm kinda excited, yet this is a bittersweet excursion, as it'll be the last adventure that me and my vehicle will have together. It's been a great 9 years, but i am trading in my explorer sport this weekend, sigh.

Thus, i decided to post a poem i once wrote about my sturdy companion:

My white trusty steed
has been beaten.

All of our time together condensed,
wiped clean, in a beat.
Heading East, contact, slick-spin and we're lurching
NorthWest, gasping.

In our minds we were already home:
Me, mixing a white russian.
You, cooling in the dark

not lifted onto a cold, friendless tow-truck
taken god knows where.

Saltpeter lines my throat, metallic grimace.
Your hard love bruised into my collarbone.

Grotesquely twisted metal reduced to scrap.

***
The good news is that explor-y pulled through & we had over four more years together!
Let's see if the green machine can even begin to compete.

Those evil witches

Okay, so is it just me (and I know it isn't) but how kick-ass are the evil queens & witches in our fairy tales & Disney cartoons? I mean, c'mon, they had power, beauty & the cajones to get ticked, say what they thought and do what they wanted.

Funny, how in the end those are the reasons they failed and inevitably died. Hmmm, not exactly positive female representation....

I mean, sure, as a kid I wanted to be Sleeping Beauty (She slept most of the story & was awaken by her true love! How easy! How lazy! no wonder I’m a floundering singleton.) or Snow White. But by the time I was nine-ish, those "heroines" seemed rather boring. I mean, they aren't even in the story that much if you think about it. Guess who is? yup, the villain.

Now take a character like Maleficent and you see this regal grace (greenish pallor aside), her determined fashion and beauty. Not to mention a forthright demeanor and a never-wavering determination. And really, all she wanted was to be invited to the party. I’d be pissed too if all my sibs had been invited & I was left out. Granted, I wouldn't curse the newborn babe to death, but I’d guarantee they would not be on my guest list.

But the female representation is fairly positive with these fairy-tale villains, except that they are evil (they want to kill our one-dimensional heroine). And in the end it is the positive characteristics that are denounced by the ultimate failure of the evil queen/witch in the end. Subtext is fairly (horrid pun) obvious, yaw? If you are female and powerful you, uhm, are punished for it. I'm beginning to think the Brothers Grimm were more like patriarchal Aesop's Fables, or worse.

Now, not only is the villain the only reason there is a story and drama to begin with; the villain is usually the more complex and interesting character (I do like America's obsession with the anti-hero, hello? westerns & gangster genres for starters...). So why are we flouncing around in pastel tulle? I say don the black dress and work some magic.

**Jakob, this one was for you. Wicked Witches DO rock.

Tons of stuff on this subject, but more focus on the heroine issue. Found this, though, really worth checking out Folk & Fairy Tales. And a whole reading list here. The musical Wicked tries to justify why the Witch of the West turns out bad. The reasons are there, Elphaba was abused & manipulated, having every right to retaliate; yet there is this apologetic tone.

SideNote: The more I think about it, though, the more I kinda think these evil queens were men in drag. Seriously, why else all the big make-up & shapeless garments if you were, say "The fairest in the land"?

Wolf Packs -

Now, this isn't an original idea, but one i've believed in for many years: i feel as a society, in order to survive, we've got to chuck our conventional notions of family and create communities.

We threw out the nuclear model of the family about the time the Cleavers went to syndication, but most certainly in the last 25 years it has become painfully obvious that marriage isn't a viable option for us. Not when over half of them officially fail and end in divorce (*roughly, some people say that number is high, but anything over 20% i would think too high, and it certainly is over 20%.). And then how many of those that remain married actually function and aren't a marriage of convenience? I mean look at this: "50% percent of first marriages, 67% of second and 74% of third marriages end in divorce," per the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology. 10% of the US is divorced (2002) which is up from 8% in 1990. There are websites labeled "divorce rate" and "divorce magazine" for chrissake.
Something is not working.

Of course i am the hopeful romantic (in cynic's clothing) and i've shiny examples of workable marriages all around me (The 'rents have had 31 glorious years together & still going strong!). Marriage is tough. Power to the couples that work things out, communicate effectively, choose the battles, compromise and maintain a part of their own individuality, cultivate it and celebrate it in her/his partner. I mean, seriously, y'all rock! Rates be damned.

But is that enough? As geography continues to pull us farther and farther apart, all the while technology brings us TOO CLOSE together, where's the human interaction going to happen? The cost of living, the economy, our environment, our politics, etc. continues to get increasingly scary. The notion of a big family isn't feasible; we seem to be heading towards a sibling-less society raised by single parents, and that's an extremely tough gig. I get marriage just based on having two people to raise a child (or childs, ha!) is better than one, unless the other one is a sh*tbird.

What if we had more than two parents?

We need wolf packs, m' dears. How else are we to make sense of all of this craziness if we don't find others that we can learn from, share and stick together? And no, i'm not proposing hippie communes with partner swapping. I mean creating a space within our groups that is healthy, encouraging and safe for our young ones and our old ones.

That's what a family is supposed to be, but.... yeah, see above.

I also think that is what organized religion is supposed to be (however effed up the politics and the practices might have been/be): it brought together large groups of people into one space. Now, i won't get started on my own beliefs about the failures of religion (another time, perhaps), but in a pure, naive stance, i think it was a fabulous thing. Community bake-offs, carnivals, brunches, lectures, single mixers, study groups, choir, luncheons, summer camps for the kiddies, retreats... I find it hard not to shudder as i list these examples, as i've become jaded by the abuse of power by religious leaders' inexcusable behaviour, brainwashing, wielding religion as fire-and-brimstone and fear, the fast-talking-save-your-soul variety on Sunday morning TV, Scientology where you pay your way [again, don't get me started, but it's hardly the first religion to employ that tactic; although it may be the smarmiest.] for starters. But again, the pure idea of it all is lovely: coming together as a community to interact. What's wrong with that? not a damn thing.

So why not try & create a new model? I say power to the urban family!
Hell, statistics show that we might as well give it a whirl, what's the worse that can happen, we fail? Seems like we already are.

***as a disclaimer, i have to say i'm incredibly lucky to have been bestowed one kick-ass family. i know i'm spoiled in that regard, completely, and i'm forever grateful for it.

Non-liars

So, once again I feel my English language has failed me. There are not enough nuanced words for liars (Unless they're dressed-up in explicative adjectives).

Lying. Now, I’m terrible at lying. I'm only good with strangers, such as the people on Melrose Blvd with their clipboards who are trying to make street walking legal. I decline to pause because "I just don't have the time." But really, if I’m on Melrose I’ve nothing but time, why else would I be there? Otherwise I’m honest, and thanks to my genes, almost painfully. Although thank goodness my vocabulary comes to my rescue; I’m able to modify, directly address the particular hard-to-be-honest-about issue at-hand and hopefully with a world of tact.

Now, the reason my language fails me with lying is that there are so many types of lies: big lies, little lies, white lies, lies we tell to be nice -- make things easier, yet they all really only have one word.

My biggest problem right now is with the Non-Lie. The non-lie, to me, is when one deliberately chooses NOT to disclose something which is a rather big deal. Say, "I have a wife," "a boyfriend," "I’m looking for a new job," "I have a three-year old kid." This variety of big stuff to me should come up with someone you know. I’m fairly old-fashioned (Those who know me are familiar with my Victorian Walls), so if I’ve considered someone a friend (Another word that infuriates me in this happy language o' English), this type of BIG STUFF should come up sooner than later.

Non-lies are quiet, restless. They huddle in the corners teasingly. They have a presence and a weight yet go unnamed. They also are big enough so that others generally know about them already, so more often than not you find out about them through other mediums. (Ahh, technology. Even if you're not snooping you can get run over by a mac truck on the internet.)

And so when the non-lie is revealed, usually coming up way too late in the relationship. Whoa, nelly. You start questioning EVERYTHING that ever occurred between you & the Non-Liar, 'specially if you're like me. It simply ruins the trust and those few and all-too-rare moments when you were content with that other person (I’m talking all walks here, people; friends, lovers, co-workers, parents) become smashed into little bloody pieces.

Now, I’m not advocating running our mouths off to every tom, dick & mary we meet, but I feel when a relationship (You guessed it, another word I’m afraid of) reaches a certain point, certain information should be discussed, if necessary.

Whew. Sorry for the rant & yes I'm going on four hours of sleep and have been snipered by not one non-lie but TWO in the last 24 hours. Awesome.

The Fantastic Mr. Anderson

So I was on a tangent today about lovely, lovely Mr. Director, Wes Anderson and I started spastically blabbering about his next project. Well, not his next, but his next next. It seems that once again the release date has been pushed for the Roald Dahl novel-turned-animated-film, The Fantastic Mr. Fox. i mean, we've heard whispers of this since 2004, what the heck?

So, i imdb'ed it and guess what? The release date is now 2009, great. Last time i checked (maybe 6-8 months ago) it was 2007!

So the conversation just got me thinking about Mr. Anderson: Rushmore, Royal Tenenbaums, Life Aquatic, even that odd American Express commercial... So yes, I'm describing a lack, a need. My point; it's beena while since Steve Zissou, people. (There is the next project, something about Tea, but i had my heart set on Dahl's piece.)

Don't get me wrong, the Casio-keyboard-themed flick is grand. But it makes me a little sad when comparing to the first two films. I feel like Mr. Anderson thought he had to spend his entire budget on CGI fishes and mucho explosions and we lost a bit of the story and characters amongst all the hub-bub.

Hence, why I am looking forward to what Anderson will do in his stop-animated version of this children's classic. Anyway, the info is starting to be out there (that is info dated since 2005): So, Mr. Clooney just signed on for the voice of the title role, Mr. Foxy himself. And it definitely helps that my favorite, Ms. Blanchett, along with Jason Schwartzman & statuesque Angelica Huston are seemingly onboard. Fear not, the UK is all over it, so for more info take a gander at the Guardian.

So, there it is. Or isn't. Either way, it's going to be an Anderson fest this weekend, me thinks...

Books, books, books

Okay, so sadly there are a lot of not-so-good books out there.
Sadder still is that there are loads of really, really good books out there, but how-oh-how to unearth those gems? Recommendations are rockin' but I feel like many of us are in the same vicious cycle of not knowing where to begin to find the good books.

I'm a self-proclaimed word whore, so part of the reason I started this blog was to do mini-reviews and suggestions for, well, things! books, of course, but also music, film, food, art, fun stuff, new rides at disneyland, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
This is a big world & the only way to tackle it is piece by piece & sharing! (As scary as it is, Barney, that goofy dino was right.).

So, recently I had the pleasure of reading David Mitchell's 2006 novel, "Black Swan Green." And to echo the words of the protagonist, this book is "epic." Well, not the "Gone with the Wind" epic variety, but in the quiet, easy and luscious story of a year in the life of a thirteen-year-old boy growing-up in a UK burb. It reminds me a lot of our own Holden Caulfield (sans the pink shirt), but more relatable and just as sarcastic. (More relatable because we have more characters around to offer views and interact, whereas Holden was distant and removed.) The first person voice is well-crafted and rich in detail and turning this boy's experiences into vivid images as he wrestles with the confident older sib, the squawking parents, the bullies at school, trying to make with girls, his non de plume, and all with a comic, self-criticizing voice that reminds me of my own teenage years.

Anyway, this author is fantastic. This is the second book that I've read ("Cloud Atlas" being my first and I've one word for that book: WOW.) and I look forward to picking up "Ghostwritten" --as soon as I finish the precarious stack on my nighstand.

For more deets on the man behind the words, check these out: http://ianhocking.com/2007/03/david-mitchell-podcast-now-then.html
http://books.guardian.co.uk/manbooker2006/story/0,,1852819,00.html#article_continue

Friends, Romans & anyone else, lend me your eyeballs as i embark on what i hope to be regular diatribes of humor, life & randomness.

I realize this is mostly for me, 10% for my pals (goodness, they love me if they are taking the time...) and then perhaps a few of you are just a little lost in the www. Whatever category you fall under, welcome!



i am a neophyte in this land of technology, but we're giving this a whirl.

My thought for today is: Babies in movie theaters. Period. Let alone movies that get out a 3am. WTF? i mean, they are usually sleeping, but why? why are they not in comfy cribs & beds? why am i tripping over a stroller as my popcorn & i slouch in a comfy seat? i kinda think these people should be offered birthcontrol & a pamphlet on The First 5, 'cause the movie theater is not the place to bring your babies. And i'm not talking about a sweet Merchant-Ivory-type fare, no, no, no. We're talking violent, shoot-'em-up drivel. I'm sure that the subconscious sponge of a six month old is the perfect forum for dolby surround sound of machine guns & nuclear bombs. Meh, meh, meh!