Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Carbon Leaf High-Stress Mashup

So far four things have reduced my pre-test jitters today.

Singing, studying, whining, eating.

SINGING

I was singing on the way home and noticed if you selectively quote the lyrics to the excellent breakup anthem "What Have You Learned,"  two things happen: 1) you lose all sense of what the song is actually about and then 2) it becomes about taking a crucial work-related test!

STUDYING

What have you learned, can you remember?

You’re like the waves beating on the sandy shore
You swear you’ve been there once or twice before

TeddyJ has given us really great materials so we can prep for this test. You take a test, you get a passing grade, you take it the second time and it kicks your ass. It's very motivating. Then you take it again and again and every time you get a slightly higher grade. So the worst thing you can do is pass the first time around.  A week before the test is not the time to discover this.

WHINING

What would you like for me to do?
Everything you need from me is in your hands
And everything else is up to you

A scene from my life, repeated a number of times today:

Me: "AAAAAHHHHHH! STREEEESSSSSEEED! COMFORT ME!" (I move in for a hug.)

Others: "You'll be fine." (Pat my back.)

Me: (Jerks away.) "Why do you say that? HOW DO YOU KNOW I'LL BE FINE?"

One person was smart enough to keep guessing until he got the right answer, which was, "You've made all these study cards. You have a system." Remember that. If a stressed, needy, distant woman hugs and insults you, the answer is "notecards."

EATING

Cast away and you’re looking through the wreckage for your pride,
But you can’t salvage what you don’t supply

You’re like a squirrel out in the middle of the road
You’re halfway there but don’t know which way to go
If you could see your sinking dignity

I just ate an entire bag of cheese popcorn.

NOT A STRESS-RELIEVER,  BUT: HURRICANES

You’re like a butterfly on a windy day
You use directions in a roundabout way

And you’re blown away by your own hurricane

The Hurricane Show is back, but it looks like Anderson doesn't even show up for a lousy Cat 2. You do have to wonder how the storm surge would affect the oil spill. I'm picturing creamy Italian oil and water dressing, you know, after you shake it into an emulsification. If we had eggs in the ocean we would have a mayonnaise deluge.

Convertibles That Pass in the Night

A few weeks back, I was handed a United Way pledge card, scribbled $20.00 on the paycheck line and tossed it back on the coordinator's desk.

Later, emails thanking me for my generous contribution to the Arts and Entertainment Council arrived. Oops. They thanked me with two theater tickets and a viewing of our Partner's car collection. By Partner I assume they mean Partner of God, because there is no one else on his level or above.

He has very nice cars.

 
  
I was on my best behavior, and not only did I ask if photos were allowed, I spoke unto the Partner and asked if I could put the photos on my blog. And thus it is so.

Sweet little tangerine car, I do not know your engine size, I only know I love you. However, you are not my favorite car.

Anne at work is a Deliberate Supporter of the Arts, and this was her favorite:

 

There were mostly American cars, I think. Like this 'Vette:

However in the midst of sportscars, signage, and toys:

...there were two 1930's cars. One, a lovely yellow model with an a-oooga horn and a rumble seat:

... and another, a car that so hypnotized me I did not GET A PHOTO OF IT.

There's a blurry peek at it in the upper right corner of this photo:

But I searched for a photo of a red 1937 Cord Supercharged 812 Phaeton Convertible with whitewall tires, front wheel drive and of course, retractable headlamps.

This is close.

Well, only "mine" is red.

I said unto the Partner that the Cord had been my car in a past life.
"Oh, you think you drove a Cord?"
"Driven. I was driven in that car."

Schizo! (In Which We End Every Sentence with an Exclamation Point!)

Monday

10:00 am:

"Woo! I have 10 more days before I take the test and I AM going to kick the ASS of this test so HARD! I am making reservations at Harvest right now so I can celebrate with Gary after!"

4:00 pm:

"S&^T! I only have 9 and 1/2 days before I take this test! I am going to fail! They will fire my ass! Wait! I can't feel my leg! Now my left arm is going numb!*"

(*People with MS just really laughed at that.)

Let Me At the Pope, I Want to Smack Him.

This story is remarkable.

.Pope deplores Belgian sex raids, stresses autonomy

Here's the lead:

VATICAN CITY – Pope Benedict XVI lashed out Sunday at what he called the "deplorable" raids carried out by Belgian police who detained bishops, confiscated computers, opened a crypt and took church documents as part of an investigation into priestly sex abuse.

Benedict made a rare personal entry into the escalating diplomatic dispute with Belgium, issuing a message of solidarity to the head of the Belgian bishops' conference and other bishops who were detained in the June 24 raid.

He said justice must take its course, but also asserted the right of the Catholic Church to investigate clerical abuse alongside civil law enforcement authorities.

Now, I acknowldge I am more Southern Baptist than Catholic, and more a follower of the Vague Church of The Great Light After You Die than either, but how does the Pope think his priests are above the law? Does he think every church is like an Indian Reservation, with its own law for small matters and the Federal Government doesn't care enough about the big matters?

In addition, police opened at least one tomb of a prelate — a violation that has particularly galled the Vatican.

I hope they're going after DNA evidence. Seriously, with the Baptists, even the suggestion you were wanted for questioning from the cops would lose you your deaconship. If the Baptists ran the Vatican, we be more than happy to welcome those priests back into the fold AFTER they got those allegations cleared up, until then, Father Who?

 

On a related note, has anyone else missed Fr. Guido Sarducci as much as I have?

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Prophet Glenn Beck - Father Guido Sarducci
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Fox News

I know I SHOULD be offended but it was the only thing that made me smile today

Cipherin'

During the prep for The Big Test, you are assured that you won't be asked to do math other than simple addition, multiplication, subtraction and division, and this is true. 

Happily, they promise to give you a simple 4-function calculator when you go in for the test.

My problem? I have to come clean. I cannot use a calculator.

Third grade: Times tables. Still with me, except for the higher sevens and eights, but access is slow.

Jr High - High school: Never got past Remedial Algebra. Never used a slide rule, never needed a slide rule, always had to show your math anyway. I did date a nerd who had a TI-30 calculator that cost a lot. No one else did.

College - I showed my math through Finite Math, which was all addition, etc.

Teaching English- I put my math brain in storage, except to divide the big number into the small number to calculate percentage grades.

Teaching Computers - Lotus 1-2-3 v1. That's all I'm saying. Who needs a calculator when you have a spreadsheet?

So at the exam they'll give me a four-function calculator to "help" me out. I got my own to practice with.

Marcia explained today that the "M" keys are memory keys, so I decided not to touch them anymore. I had been hitting them to clear the display. I had supposed that "CE" stood for "Clear everything," so I would push that along with the M keys.

When I decided that I would just turn it off between questions, I noticed the "C" on the "ON" key doesn't turn it off, but it does get you back to zero. See, I am a computer programmer.

Mine says "MINUS" in tiny letters instead of a minus sign, is that typical?  And the comma is above the numbers, not in between the thousands. Perhaps this is ALL just a hideous psychological exam and when I walk in they'll give me an abacus to see if I could handle the stress of Wall Street.

Thank Me Later

The summer-wilted tv season is upon us, but my lunch table was salivating with details of a fresh new show.

Inedible to Incredible.

See the measured articulate review here. Two co-workers had seen the show and said, and I quote, "DID YOU SEE SHE MADE HAMBURGERS WITH STRAWBERRY CORNFLAKES AND THEN SHE STUCK FIG NEWTONS AROUND THE EDGES." That may not be accurate, but it was the impression I got.

Sounds good. Of course, right now I am watching nothing but the latest installment of the BP robot saga. Cap is being lowered again!

Live Blogging The Bet

I am AGAIN going out on a limb and live blogging a bet Gary and I are having.

(Gary just came in to ask "Is your butt ready for the spanking?")

I was telling Gary about the early images of the apostles they found in the Vatican, and that one of them is blond.

"No" Gary cried. "That has to be fake. Everyone knows the apostles were Jewish ... I THINK they all were Jewish, except one of them was a Carpathian, of course. James or John? And the Carpathians were blond."

My head snapped up. My pinky snapped out.

He declared, "OH YES I WILL BET YOU." Pinky shake."Wait. Wait. What exactly is the bet?"

I answered, "That: 1. An apostle was Carpathian. 2. That 'Carpathian' is a nationality of people. 3. That Carpathians are easily identified by their blond hair." He backed off a little on #1, but held fast that Jesus carried on with blond Carpathians.

Google is being searched now.

Hang on for the update!

===================================================

UPDATE:

Gary could not wait to punch "Carpathia" in to Wikipedia. It says:

"Carpathia can refer to various things:

• RMS Carpathia was a steamship, notable for its role in the rescue of survivors from the sinking of the RMS Titanic on April 15, 1912
• Carpathian Mountains, part of a mountain range in Europe
• There is also a lunar mountain range called the Montes Carpatus.
• Carpathia, a fictional Balkan kingdom in the movies The Prince and the Showgirl,Ghostbusters II, and Dragon Storm, as well as season 1 episode 14 of the television show Fantasy Island.
• Nicolae Carpathia, the fictional Antichrist and head of the Global Community in Left Behind
• Carpathian Ruthenia,a small historic region in Central Europe
• Carpathia (2005 album), an album by the German band The Vision Bleak "

And then he tried "Carpathian race" in Wikipedia and got this!

"Carpathians are a fictional race of people in the fictional universe of the Dark Series, a group of books by Christine Feehan. Carpathians survive by drinking the blood of humans, but unlike vampires, they do not kill their human prey ... Carpathians are extremely attractive and alluring, and most are tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed. Most Carpathians are rather lean, but some – like Gregori and his brother Darius – are noted to be rather broad and muscular, which is uncommon. The Golden Twins (Julian and Aidan Savage) are blond-haired and have gold eyes." (Emphasis mine!)

Then he went for Carpathian as a geographical region, and that's actually where Transylvania is, and then he gave right up. He even pulled his pants down for me. I felt for him, thought, because I did momentarily think that there might be some Apocryphal Book of Carpathia only the Catholics have.

Brain Food Regurgitation

So, that list of what I ate this weekend repelled both me and Gary. I ate fresh fruit for breakfast, and a mix of vegetables, shrimp, and brown rice for lunch. Virtue! Get in mah belly!

Gary emailed me that as of today, he is on a diet. He extolled the praises of the diet."Dieting is so easy! All you have to do is not eat! You don't have to do anything that gives you a sunburn or a pulled muscle. Just don't eat!"

This evening when he came home he was all bouncy. "I feel like I have so much energy now that I've been dieting!"

FOR 10 HOURS.

Brain Food

I'm coming down to the wire for the big test (July 7 is d-day). I intended to spend every spare minute this weekend studying. This means study food. On Friday I went shopping for study food.

Study food fills two needs: it is a consolation prize AND an energy boost.

So far, I ate the watermelon, the bag of Bugles, two Starbucks Mochas, half the Fritos, 1/4th the cheese cubes, 1/4th the sausage, 1/4th the toffee ice cream, and one box of chocolate-covered nuts.

GARY ate the truffles, the bastard, all the snack crackers which were to accompany the cheese and dips, and the dark chocolate ice cream. May it be noted Gary is not studying.

Still to eat: Apple Jacks, Spinach dip, cheese dip, cheese and sausage, Baileys ice cream, another box of chocolate-covered nuts, and orange juice.

And, the item I completely forgot: Two entire pre-frozen alcoholic drinks.

Empirical evidence based on three test scores suggest I do best under the influence of watermelon.

Ride to and from Father's Day

S_____ father's day celebrations were held Saturday. Right under the wire, they almost had it on the actual day. The day was uneventful, but there is always drama with Gary around.

The Drive There

Gary: "BP shouldn't be allowed to write off the disaster as a tax deduction."

Me: "Well, they lost money while doing business. Are you going to say - "

Gary: "Does your job require you to become a Republican after you pass this test?"

The Drive Back

Me: "Let's take 370. I want to see how high the river is."

If we had the internet projected on the windshield we could have seen what was ahead.

Steamy and sunny when we started out. Then I think I commented it looked like 
rain down the road. After a few minutes It looked like this:

See that cone peeking out of the cloud right above the tree? We always shriek "Look for the cones!" when there's a tornado watch. I feel I am an expert on what [SPOILER ALERT] tornadoes look like [SPOILER]after watching A Serious Man. [I TOLD YOU, SPOILER. I HAVE JUST RUINED THAT ENTIRE MOVIE FOR YOU.] Oh, and [SPOILER!] Wizard of Oz. [END SPOILER ALERT] I didn't think this looked like a tornado.

We kept driving under this cloud, expecting rain, and then finally we heard sheets of rain hitting our car. Then Gary pointed out there was no water on our windshield. What we were hearing was, I don't quite know, dirt whipping our car? Debris? Shards of livestock bones pummeled into dust? It was freaky.

Finally, that stopped, and there was the rain ahead.

 

So, I don't know what we drove through, maybe a mini-burst, but it was some type of weather disturbance. Always an adventure with Gary.

Something in the Water

So, my brother Dave called, and we were chatting, and I asked where his (tentative) girlfriend was.

"Oh, she's at The Water Store."

"Is that code or something? I'm supposed to be studying. Just tell me."

"She's at The Water Store. Getting water."

"You have stores in New Mexico that sell water."

"Yes."

"JUST water?"

"Pretty much." (A pause.) "Well, and ice."

And I looked it up (you have to with Dave), and it is true. They sell water. Some locations also deal in ice as a sideline. The water is 25 cents a gallon. I recall learning that Lithium was first used for medicinal purposes after statistics revealed fewer cases of mental illness in the Southwest, due to the high amount of lithium salts in the water. I guess The Water Store filters it out. Now Dave's just a little lower on Lithium. 

They just found Lithium deposits in Afghanistan, too. Perhaps Afghanis are mellow. Perhaps they need to open a branch of The Water Store there.

FYI: What to Do if Charter Cable Comes to Your House and then A Month Later Your Cable is Messed Up

Background information: A month ago, our cable provider came by our house because Blah something, High Def Blah, something, they had to work on Gary's TV. Before the cable man left he said, I'm not doing blah, but after a week or so if you notice things aren't working, Switch The Tivo to Antenna.  [Capitalization mine] I wrote on the refrigerator whiteboard: "Switch The Tivo to Antenna"

So a few weeks ago, Gary's cable began acting wonky. During his rant I said, "Oh, they said to Switch The Tivo to Antenna."

"WHY would you say that! We don't have an antenna!"

"But the cable guy said before he left to Switch The Tivo to Antenna."

"Stop saying that! Stop saying that! There is no antenna!"

"Well I know there's no antenna, but the guy said -"

"IT'S A TIVO SO THERE IS NO ANTENNA! DON'T YOU GET THAT?"

So, I dropped it, but for the next few weeks every time Gary said "Damn! That show didn't record right! Look it's all wonky! F*&^ing cable!" I would pleasantly say, "Switch The Tivo to Antenna." Followed by cursing, or bellowing, or sometimes a patient explanation about how no one had antennas any more now, honey.

Fast forward to our 25th anniversary when we agreed to call Charter.

I said I would call the cable company but Gary said, "NO! Let me do some research first."

His research determined that what they had done was install a tuning adapter.

"IDIOTS! They installed the wrong kind!" This is how I know there are two types of tuning adapters. "The kind they gave us is the wrong brand AND the wrong model - it doesnt even have enough input slots! You can see here how he rigged it up, he split the signal and plugged it into the back where it says 'Antenna.' Dumbass."

I paused. I tried not to. "Switch The Tivo to Antenna."

"STOP SAYING THAT! STOP SAYING THAT! Aren't you listening to me? There isn't even a screen where you can choose antenna on a TiVo." He then clicked all the way up TO a screen that said "Input," then said, "Even if there IS an antenna choice, and I'm not saying there IS, I wouldn't want to make it because it would drop me down to only one tuner."

"Are you taking a shower? You can leave the TiVO on that screen."

"DON'T TOUCH MY TIVO."

And then he did NOT shower but instead did more research that convinced him Charter cable had given us the wrong brand and model of tuning adapter as a conspiracy to make us turn against our TiVo in our hearts and choose the Charter DVR.

Gary has determined his next step is to go to Best Buy and buy his OWN tuning adapter, the right brand, the right model,  and set it up the way he sees fit. He will THEN crack the cover on the new tuning adapter and say "SEE? SEE? PIECE OF CRAP! IT'S WELDED WRONG!"

At no point during the exercise did he Switch The Tivo to Antenna OR call the cable company with his accusations, and I don't care, because my low-def TV works fine.

#3 did ask why I didn't just switch it and not tell him. He feels so passionately about it that I can't. Plus, he does have me a little convinced about the Charter Cable conspiracy.

A Special Guest Post from God

Okay, all you Glen Beck fans, this is God posting. The Lord your God. At ease.

First of all, you are in the wrong place. Evidently Glen Beck made some type of allusion to this poem by Rudyard Kipling. (I don't know, I don't watch the Glen Beck show.)  So now you all googled "little dog vomit rudyard kipling," and the first hit brought you to this blog, On Dogs. By Rudyard Kipling, which, while it does refer to dogs and Rudyard Kipling and, in the comments, vomit, it is not the poem you seek.

Just so you know, Rudyard is here and he wants you to know he doesn't think much of Glen Beck, and that poem about giving Jesus a dog is awful. (Jesus doesn't want to criticize but He says He's a cat person.)

Just so you know how I feel about bad art done in My name, last night I threw around some lightning and destroyed Big Butter Jesus.

Before:

During:

After:

From "Touchdown" Jesus to "Terminator"Jesus. That statue has pissed me off for years. Look at the cross: it's not to scale! What is that, a decorative cross in his lap? MeDamnit.

It felt so good that this afternoon I zapped that British Petroleum boat that's "capturing" the oil from the spill. They need to decide if they want to capture the oil or stop the oil. It's 2 tons worth of pressure bursting out, drop 4 half-ton things on top of it and it'll stop. It's gravity. Plus, you have robots. 
  
Oh, and General Petraeus? Bitch, watch your step. I can take you out like that. Remember when Georgie Bush "choked on a pretzel?" Yeah.

July 14, 1985 - Damn! JUNE 14, 1985

July 14. ( Just - just - shut up. I always confuse June and July. And when I looked up the date in Wikipedia, I thought, I swear to you I THOUGHT "Huh! I never knew that. I thought Bastille day WAS IN JULY. Guess I'm wrong!")

At the time, I didn't know I was scheduling my wedding for Flag Day, much less Bastille Day.

On this day in history:

1789 – French Revolution: Citizens of Paris storm the Bastille and free seven prisoners.

1939 - My favorite artist, Alphonse Mucha, Czech painter, decorative artist (b. 1860) died

1969 – The United States $500, $1,000, $5,000 and $10,000 bills are officially withdrawn from circulation.

(TRUE) 1985 – TWA Flight 847, carrying 153 passengers from Athens to Rome, is hijacked by a Hezbollah fringe group. One passenger, U.S. Navy Petty Officer Robert Stethem, is killed ...

And I got married, blissfully unaware. My in-laws were unaware, too, and we got on a plane to Hawaii the next day.

We didn't have a professional photographer, so Mom's friends took the photos, and they really captured the moment.

 

Disco, disco wedding.We also did the Hokey Pokey.

 

 

Don't kiss me. I must keep my eye on everything. Are your relatives drinking in church?

 

 

What the hell? Are you fucking kidding me? They brought in a keg? Of BEER?

 

 You! Over there! What's in that brown paper bag? I will KICK your ASS.

 

The final station of the cross: Jesus meets the three buxom bridesmaids and probably offers them sacremental wine.

Good Lord, I don't even recognize that couple. The man looks happy anyway.

 

Illness Strikes the House

Both Gary and the in-laws have been sick for three weeks. This illness does not manifest by any issue of fluids, or coughing, or sneezing.

Symptom 1: fatigue

Optional Symptom 2: sore eyes

Y-Chromosome-bound Symptom 3: boils

Gary and his Dad both have boils. Wilma has not been plagued with boils or buboes. However, she has noticed the fatigue. (If you have never had fatigue, you probably think I just mean 'tired,' but this is that flu feeling you get at three am when you are lying on the bathroom floor weak as a kitten and you can not get up.)

However, I have been fine. In fact, yesterday I had such a burst of energy I put off studying for a day and cooked roast potatoes, chocolate puff pastries, bittersweet chocolate cake and sliced strawberries. Then of course, last night I dreamed I was taking the Big Test and I took so long doing the "cooking" section that I failed the key "stockbroker" section.

Sadly, today I fell to the illness. No boils, but deep fatigue, and a tiny fever and a need to sleep -

Shh! You know, I can HEAR you. "Staph!" "Staph infection!" and the one person out there saying "MRSA!" Given that I am the only one without S______ blood coursing through my veins, I'm the only one who will take my temperature or go to the doctor. Then again, I just gave blood and urine to the Germans, perhaps they'll notice something wrong. I hope they're still looking for side effects, especially since FTY720 just took another step closer to the market.

Sigh. Typing that required two breaks and a nap.

Feel Free To Skip This Post ...

... because it's one of those anniversary "why I love my husband" posts. I always skip yours. Uh, sorry.

(This is coming out 2 days early because Monday, Official Anniversary Day, we have agreed to call the cable company and get the cable problem resolved, and we dispute what is wrong with the cable, and we will hate each other at the end of the day, so it would be hypocritical to post it then.)

So.Why I love Gary:

He Is SO Ethical. Gary doesn't download music or software unless he's paid for it. He buys a soda at any fast food place he's had to visit to use the facilities. He won't let vendors buy him lunch. I was a pure spiritual Southern Baptist girl when we married and he so assumed the moral load for our family that I can drink and swear and know we are covered.

He has Ruined Me for All Other Men. I have this fear that if I ever have sex with someone else, they will expect me to do more than just enjoy myself until I eventually bellow like a rhinoceros.

He Is Never the Same Two days in a Row. It's the way the humidity in Saint Louis affects his brain. Some days he's sharp as a tack, some days he's "crawly" and cranky, some days it's really humid and he can't think in a straight line and he is the most agreeable person alive.

He's Always There. No matter how bad it gets, he doesn't run. You wouldn't expect it, but he's excellent in a crisis.

He's Very Romantic and Open and Honest and Just the Opposite of All Other Husbands You Read About in Redbook.  "What are you thinking, honey?" I never have to ask that. He lets me know what he thinks, sometimes for hours at a time.

I was looking at wedding photos today. And I realized that when the photos were taken, I didn't know half of the reasons above. I will think of that Monday when I put on my wedding dress (unzipped),  get on the phone, and listen to my husband argue with the cable company.

It's Always a Power Issue with Spunky

Spunky says the Appendage thought she had enough battery power to reply to comment and blog, but turns out she didn't and the power cable is bad. Spunky is annoyed because she wanted to see if there was a toenail polish named Dark Humor and now she can't.

In the room the women come and go...

Sometimes, schedules and meetings toss together a perfect mix at lunch. We were three ladies and a gentleman.

I mention Gary had been working so hard he hadn't heard Joran Van Der Sloot had killed another girl.

A lady demurred, "Well, he 'confessed,' but what does that mean, it's all just lies."

The gentleman in our midst said, "They should take that little punk out as just shoot at him from the air. Or set him on fire."

The ladies all nodded and chewed.

One swallowed and agreed, "Him, and that guy ... Peterson?"

"Scott Peterson, who threw his wife in the bay?"

"No, but him too, but the other guy ... Drew?"

"Ohhh, yess, the policeman who keeps killing his wives. He should be thrown in with Joran."

The man added, "And that sports guy, what's his name -"

"OJ?" we answered, and we thought, wow, well, sure, okay, burn him too, kind of old news, but okay.

And then someone nominated a guy in our outer counties who recently killed off his family because he wanted to date someone else and he feared a divorce would lose him his job at the church.

So then I was going to toss Susan Smith on to the fire, but it sounded as if we were exclusively burning and sniping men, so I upped the ante instead with "Oh, oh, that guy who worked at Barnes and got a syringe of AIDS-tainted blood and injected his baby because he didn't want to pay child support."

And I suppose I won, because after another round of "Oh, yeah, target practice on him!" we all went back to work.

The In-Laws Are Overflowing with Encouragement and Approval

Disclaimer: For our 25th anniversary the in-laws gave us the china bell they got for their 25th anniversary, and we are to pass it on to Gary's married sister in 15 years. So that's nice.

BUT NICE ENOUGH? You tell me.

The In-Law reaction to the Paris trip was, if you recall, "Terrorists! Volcanoes!"

We were ultimately unswayed.

Now Wilma has suggested to Gary that he and I start our diet soon because the airline might make us both buy extra seats because of our weight.

(Pause for swelling rage.)

We did just recently go to Vegas and neither of us required the extra seat belt extender, and we were able to push the armrest down between us, and while one of us is over 250, it is all depth, not width, shall we say.

It is amazing the boy ever enjoys anything.

I Might Have to Revoke My Fan Club Membership in Protest

This evening I checked the weather report and immediately went to sleep, because Weather.com showed the graphic that says "you will have a dog pacing across your face all night."

I woke up to the discordant sound of TiVo recording something I would never want to watch. I half listened to it from the other room. "Why is my TiVo recording this reality crap? Is it because I gave the thumbs down to Fargo? Fargo's good, it's just you record it for me EVERY time it's on, tivO. I've seen Fargo already." Then I heard a woman's voice squeal, "Barenaked Laaaaaaaadiiiiiiies!"

The woman's voice just added to the discord: she just didn't sound like a BNL fan, not that I know what every fan's voice sounds like, but she sounded thin.  She sounded thin and young and fake.

Then I remembered BNL was supposed to be on The Bachelorette tonight. And they were.

(Previously seen on The Bachelorette: I have no idea because I've never seen this show before.

Previously seen on Barenaked Ladies: Steven Page leaves the band to pursue a solo career, Various reasons are given, but clearly it was so he didn't have to appear on The Bachelorette.  Previously he's said he and the band were taking different tangents, the band was all about "Entertainment" and he wanted "Art." At the time I said I would try very hard not to be entertained by his new album, but now I see he just didn't want to be on The Bachelorette. Not the cocaine bust at all!)

So after the band breakup they made an excellent video for "You Run Away" in which every "runner" was wearing a suit (Steve's concert attire of choice) and there is brown liquid spilling on the plane which I believe to be Coke.

So I was lying there half asleep and gleaning that these Bachelorette people were somehow involved in the BNL video, which was shot in Michigan (?) last year. Weird, I thought, I had no idea they sequestered those reality show people so long.

I eventually got around to watching the recording, and I'm glad they made a new video and didn't defile the old one. The contestants and Bachelorette all 'relate' to the song, which is frankly a pretty insulting song about their old bandmate. "I thought you were my brother / you cried and ran for cover." ("Oh, mygod! That's just like me and Ali!" No. No it isn't. )

However, I was glad to see in the "new" video Jim is wearing his plaid shirt. I was sorry to hear one of the contestants refer to the band as "the music I listened to in college," which is a nicer way of saying "that really old band - they're still together?"

The BNL board I read has been silent, but the Twitter can be summed up by @maiarebecca: "Am I going to get dumber by watching this?"

Breather

Whew. I have to take a breather. My goal for today was to finish all the course materials for My Big Exam. I did, and the recorded instructor is very happy I finished ("Yay! Good job!").

Then I took an exam on what I had just learned and got gut-punched by a 65%. Damn, Day-um. I've gotten 65s before, generally on the chapters they wanted you to think were "short." Short, yeah, because the content is in the test. Fine, bitches, I know how this is played. I'll make notecards and kick your ass in the next round.

Remember when I learned fun things? Things like How To Make Babka and How to Play the Bass? Those days will be back in three solid weeks. Until then, all I have to give you are minor episodes in my life exaggerated to epic proportions. And today, I didn't have even a minor episode.

However, I am making an Epic List of what I want to do in a month when I get My Life Back.

• Garden at dawn when it's cool
• Read the pile of five books on my night table
• Refinish some bits of my floor
• Play with my dog
• Make homemade food
• Buy shelves and organize the basement
• Play ping pong with Gary
• Go to Paris and Vegas and New Jersey
• Go through Mom's files and shred them
• Read Mom's letters
• Replace Mom's garage doors

WHEN YOU ARE LOOKING FORWARD TO PAYING TO REPLACE THE GARAGE DOORS ON A HOUSE YOU DON'T EVEN LIVE IN - well, you need to get back to studying, that's what you need to do, because the more you know, the sooner it's over.

And, Kids, I Had a Transistor Radio Too

In 1980 I visited a college boyfriend's family in Indiana, and we settled in for a movie. They turned on the TV and changed to a local channel. I was really surprised by the quality of their local channel and the impressive graphics! Big spinning H, big spinning B, big spinning O.

"Our UHF channels in Missouri all start with W," I said.

No, this is Home Box Office, they explained, and then they told me about cable. ("So, they send movies to your house through a wire? Why not just go to the movie theater?")

My family in Missouri had cable as soon as it was available to us. You know how old I am? I remember when there was a news network that just presented the news, 24-7. (No, really. Objectively stated the news, every half hour, all day and all night. CNN, it was called.)

Just tonight, the tiVo served up a show about Paul Simon and Lorne Michaels. I thought, "Oh, Paul Simon was on the first episode of SNL I ever saw." Which was the second episode of SNL ever. 

I remember people talking about how this new show Cheers was going to be really good.  I remember when Nightline was 20 minutes long and was only there to tell us about the hostages in Iran. I remember David Letterman's daytime talk show.

I think this was provoked by Larry King's 25th anniversary. Larry, your interview isn't historical if I remember it, that's how I feel. Find me someone who's been on TV longer than I've been alive, that's history. It looks like it's Mike Wallace, and that's it. We may be old, Mike and I, but we're feisty.

The Coolest Thing I Have Ever Seen.

I have been transfixed by the capping of the underwater BP gusher.

I saw it live on the streaming video on CNN.com.

What was actually ON CNN? Larry King. Yeah, talking to the president, sure, but hell, guy, live video! And Rachel Maddow, running tape, seriously?

So, if you follow my Twitter feed (which is essentially worthless) I brought it to you first. ("AAA! THE CAP IS NEARING THE PIPE")

 

It was very exciting. The yellow Hat (which had a four on the side) was off in the distance, and then SWIMMING ROBOTS pushed it next to the gusher. (Swimba, by iRobot.) And the BIG swimming robot was yellow.

 

Look! Is that not Thunderbird 4? IT IS! Thunderbirds are go!

And then Thunderbird 4 reached out to Top Hat 4 and pushed it uppppp and ooooover and I pushed it in the air with my hands to help and then this happened!

 

Methane gas? A big belch of it came directly toward the camera.

And ... then ...

 

That little pointy triangle in the middle of the screen is the brim of the hat sticking out from the billowing oil cloud.

So... maybe they need to start a pump or something? Swimming robots can do anything.

 

I want to see the Mole come in to help next.

P.S. - Of course, I know this spill is all 100% horrible - but add on 1% amazing for the real-life life-size Thunderbird 4,. c'mon.

I Cry In Public! Enjoy My Emotional Pain.

Here was my night at the ballpark. The ballpark elevator operator said, "Ooo, you're in the suite." The elevator occupants tried to supress their envy but could not. And that was worth the price of admission. Which was nothing. La la LA. From there the evening went downhill.

I walked into an air-conditioned suite with an incredible view and a 2 to 1 boy to adult ratio. The boys ranged from 1 month to 12 years. Two dozen boys, one dozen adults, plus one quiet girl who hung out with her mom and didn't play tug of war with my fallopian tubes.

Everyone was playing with their little boys, and discipling their little boys, and counting to three with great portent. It wasn't that I wanted a little boy of my own, it was just that EVERYONE ELSE had a little BOY AND I DIDN'T.

(Everyone else has a pony! I wanna pony!)

Then the cutest of the little boys, whom I have met before, came to me and said:

"Blahgunr, arpurnt erm on my hand!" And he showed me his hand. It looked fine.

"I'm sorry?" I answered.

"Blahgunr, arpurnt erm ON MY HAND!" And he showed me his hand.

(Uh, beg pardon?) "Say that again."

"Blahgunr! Arpuuuuurnt ... errrrrm ... ON. MY. HAAAAAAAND."

I found his Mom, and another Mom, and neither of them could understand him. And that made me think I'm not such a helpless freak. Maybe I could play Mom for a minute.

Then that same little boy began running in circles and ignoring his Mom barking at him to "Stop!"

"Stop!" I barked. And he froze. That was awesome. Until Gary pulled at my elbow.

"What are you doing? You can't yell at that little boy; he isn't yours! What is WRONG with you?"

(Don't touch the other girls' ponies! What is WRONG with you?)

THEN as I blinked back tears, the circle-running hand-boy brought his cup of ice to Gary, and gave it to him, and Gary knew to go put water in the cup. Stomp on my guts little running hand-boy! Thanks! (He didn't thank Gary for the water, I know, I watched. His Mom might be reading this. FYI, Kelly.)

So then for an hour everyone continued on, teaching their children to say, "Thank you," and how to be Introduced, and how to Share, and then oh yes, you knew it, someone brought out the one month-old womb-damp baby that still had RIB marks on its HEAD and began bottle-feeding him.

I thought, "I could do tha  -- "

"DO NOT FEED THAT GIRL'S PONY!" I heard in my head and then I just decided to cry.

I went over to the baby, tears streaming out of my eyes, and told the father that it was his fault I was crying, his baby was tweaking my hormones. (Using a baby as a shield, that's what you call that.) Because I don't cry pretty. My nose gets red and the fatter I get, the more water weight I lose from my tear ducts. The father was gracious and assured me the baby was no fun, really.

"Oh," Gary said later, "Were you crying? I noticed your nose was red and your eyes were watering, but I didn't really know what was going on."

Like Harrison Ford I'm Feeling Frantic

Gary has begun to accept the idea of going to Paris, in part because every time he complains about the idea I chime in with, "It was YOUR idea."

Last night I made him read the hotel part of the guidebook, because I wanted to cross-reference that list with my list that cross-references Concierge.com and Five Star Alliance. The hotel where Oscar Wilde died showed up on all three lists.

In bed that night, Gary said, "I think it would be a good idea to stay in a chain hotel in Paris."

"Really, why?

"Because I think we can be assured they'll know English, and they'll be helpful."

"I'm pretty sure everyone running a hotel in Paris would know English."

"But they might not be helpful. I want the hotel Harrison Ford stayed at in Frantic."

"Is that the one when his wife got kidnapped?"

"Yes. The desk staff were very helpful when he got the telephone message in French and they helped him translate it."

"Well, okay. There'll be enough exotic goings-on, it's okay with me if the hotel is a known quantity."

So, after a little investigation, I will be able to reassure Gary that if I am indeed kidnapped, the hotel staff at Le Grand Hotel Inter Continental, 2 rue Scribe Paris will be happy to lend a hand. Not like those people at the hotel where Oscar Wilde died, no, those bastards probably would just laugh. Vaches cruelles!

(Oh, my God, I just checked the rates at Le Grande Blah Le Blah. I'd better get kidnapped for that many Euros.)