A Belated Merry Christmas

Not having learned our lesson about going outside to shop - you know, around the general public - my mother and I foolishly decided to pick up a few stocking stuffers Christmas eve. We had planned on hitting Walmart first to buy a dog bed they had advertised and move on, but sadly we never made it anywhere else.

Someone just full of desperate Christmas spirit lifted Mom's purse and legged it out of the store just as we headed to the check out line. So we spent the next hour dealing with the police, figuring out alternate methods of payment, and trying to handle all the general angsty feelings that getting robbed in broad daylight can bring out in a person.

I have to say that unlike my friend Dixie's recent robbery experience, our local police arrived within 5 minutes and were extremely nice, as were several shoppers who saw what was happening and offered the use of their cell phones, rides home and commiserations, with one nice elderly gentleman offering the opinion that "I bet that person feels like a real asshole right about now".

I seriously doubt that, else they wouldn't done it in the first place, but I am happy to report that the asshole in question who snatched her purse got absolutely nothing but her driver's license and a few pictures in an old handbag that had definitely seen better days. Mom was not carrying any cash, credit cards, cell phone or even car keys, since I was driving. She managed to contact the bank from the store and cancel her ATM card and checkbook less than 10 minutes after it happened. Still, it was a real pisser.

On the bright side, we lost nothing of monetary value, witnessed the kindness of strangers and had a great Christmas Day in spite of the stress. I hope you did, too!

From our herd to yours, happy holidays!

The Joys Of Christmas Shopping

This year I decided to try and do most of my Christmas shopping online, mainly because I accidentally signed up as a Prime member of Amazon a couple of months ago. Don't ask me how one does that, just accept the fact that I am a knucklehead who really doesn't understand the internets all that well, as I have, and move on.

As a Prime member you got free 1 or 2 day shipping all the way up to yesterday, and until Sunday you still only have to pay $3.99 if you want it the next day. That's pretty sweet and painless - all the presents I bought have arrived and will be wrapped this evening, hooray!

Having said all that, you might wonder why in the world I ventured out to a department store last night. To be honest, I'm not sure myself, but I did, and it was sheer hell. The place looked like it had been looted; there was stuff overflowing in a chaotic mess in the aisles, there were no prices on anything, and worst of all there were crowds of other people trying to shop, what seemed like millions of them, and there were only two staff in the whole damn store to service us all.

As I only wanted to buy one thing, I hoped I could get in and out pretty quick, but I hadn't factored in the possibility that I would get in the check out line behind a clueless idiot. It always happens, you think I would learn by now and take a book to read.

She was a middle-age blond lady, clearly high maintenance (freshly done nails, exquisite make-up, expensive outfit) who was looking for a bargain. These are dangerous types of ladies, folks, try and steer clear of them if you can, as they tend to be ruthless, yet stupid.

She waited until the salesperson had rung up her total to say, "Oh wait, I wanted to use my store card to get 20% off", and giggled a little girlish laugh that made my skin crawl. The poor harried salesperson, who looked like she had already been rolled through a particularly stressful hedge, managed to smile and assure her it was no problem, she would void it and start over. Which she did.

The dodo bird waited patiently until the new total was rung up to belatedly remember she could save even more money! She simpered, "Um, that was 50% off. So I should be getting 70% off, right?" More girlish giggles. The salesperson's smile slipped, just for a moment, and you could see in her eyes that she might be harboring a wish to beat this moonbat ever so lightly about the head with a blunt object, but she quickly regained control of herself and reassured the lady that she would void it and start over, yet again.

I looked back over my shoulder to see the long line of people behind us start to fidget and look restless at about the same time I noticed that the person who was loudly and heavily breathing in an very annoyed fashion was me. I told myself it was almost over, to chill out, it is what it is, and exercised all the mental relaxation techniques you're supposed to do when confronted with extreme stupidity. Which all went out the window when the lady then said, "Okay, now I want to pay off what I just bought on my store card".

A collective groan rippled through the line and the salesperson visibly wilted. Cheerfully, the lady then handed back the very same store credit card she had just used to pay with to the salesperson and stood looking expectantly at her. The salesperson, confused, said "I thought you wanted to pay off your store credit card?" The lady said, "Yes I do". The salesperson said, "Great, how would you like to pay?" The lady said, "With my store credit card".

The salesperson replied "I'm sorry, you can't do that. You ha-". At this point, the blond lady with the delightfully (in her mind I'm sure) girlish laugh suddenly morphed into outraged pissed off scary dragon lady, interrupted and began to argue the point. "But I just paid it over in the men's section!! They let me do it!! This is outrageous!! I just did it!! I did!! I want to see the manager!!" She managed to work herself into quite a lather and I was delighted to see her exquisitely applied make-up start to sweat off.

The salesperson, who vainly tried to get a word in to explain, finally shouted very loudly - and in a gleeful tone of voice that I can't blame her for - "Ma'am, you CANNOT pay off your store credit card bill with the SAME store credit card!! It doesn't work that way, I need cash or some other form of legal tender!" Snickers erupted down the waiting line as people began to realize just how dumb this lady was as we waited for the cogs to turn in her tiny brain. After a second or three of heavy thinking, she giggled girlishly (that old chestnut) and said, "Oh. Never mind then!" and beamed a smile at the stunned salesperson.

I thought the ordeal was over at last, but tragically she then decided it would be a good idea to stand at the counter for a few minutes more and re-organize her handbag. Sadly, that is not a joke. She started taking out her receipts and balancing her check book, crossing things off a list and talking to herself, totally oblivious to the fact that there were now a good twenty people waiting for her to move.

I'm not proud when I tell you that in a moment of intense irritation, I leaned up and jabbed her quite sharply on the shoulder and said, "EXCUSE ME WOULD YOU MIND MOVING NOW THERE ARE TWENTY PEOPLE WAITING BEHIND YOU TO PAY AND YOU ARE HOLDING US ALL UP, I'M IN A HURRY, PLEASE MOVE NOW, I AM A CRAZY INSANE BITCH AND I WILL KILL YOU ON THE SPOT IF YOU DON'T MOVE NOW". Or words to that effect. Whatever it was I said, it seemed to startle her and she fled for the door, much to everyone's relief. I managed to talk myself out of following her and trying to run her over in the parking lot for the greater good of mankind, but it was quite the moral struggle.

And you know what is really amazing about the whole thing? Her purchase was for a whopping $9.62.

What Is It With Men And Musicals?

I was totally excited to see that a Hollywood movie version of Sweeney Todd (The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street) is being released for the Christmas holidays, I guess as a sort of antidote for the usual sentimental seasonal madness. It has been one of my favorite musicals ever since PBS showed the original London West End production back in the early 80's, starring Angela Lansbury (pre-Murder She Wrote) as the vicious Mrs. Lovett. It's extremely violent and nasty, but beautifully scored by Stephen Sondheim....a definite win/win all around in my opinion.

So I'm telling The Husband, who had never heard of it, all about it; I describe the basic plot (bloody vengeance) and reveal that it stars the always fascinating Johnny Depp, and he is making all the right interested noises ... until he finds out it's a musical. At that point, he signs off on it stating bluntly "I don't do musicals" and informs me that no persuasion on my part will ever change his mind.

What IS it with guys and musicals? Many years ago, my ex-husband, The Wanker, somehow managed to get tickets to see Les Miserables (at that time starring Michael Ball, which was a big deal) in London and actually sat next to me for a good fifteen minutes of the show before he leaned over and whispered to me, "Are they really going to sing through the whole thing?". When I confirmed that yes, it's a musical dummy, he said "I'll be back in a minute" and got up and left. I finally found him again during the interval, 45 minutes later, sitting in the bar quite drunk and extremely unwilling to go back into the theater for the second act. Ah, fun times, fun times....

But anyway, I am determined to see it (with or without The Husband in tow) and here is the trailer, which looks brilliant.

Merry Birthday!

I have been diligently buying Christmas presents for months, wrapping them up and putting them away, smug in the knowledge that there would be no frantic last-minute shopping for me this year, not me, no sir!

Unfortunately, I never labeled many of them, stupidly thinking I would somehow remember what goes to whom, so now I'm faced with a rather large pile of unidentified, beautifully wrapped mystery items. Instead of doing what I should have done, which was unwrap the damn things and start over, I turned a blind eye and hoped for the best.

Tragically, it all came to head a couple of days ago when my friend, the always lovely Anna, stopped by for a visit. I had a nice gift ready to pass on to her mother, who really helped us out this year. Anna dutifully took it over to her and she - naughty lady, Santa is watching you - opened it immediately. Sadly, the note inside read "To Anna, Happy Birthday!". Sigh.

Anna, being the good friend that she is, got on the phone to me right away to gleefully tell me all about the embarrassing mix-up. She found the whole incident deeply funny and laughed and laughed and laughed at me. And laughed some more. I can only console myself with the fact her mother refused to hand over the present to Anna, telling her she didn't care if it had the wrong name on it, she liked it.

So much for being prepared!

The Christmas Tree

A friend of mine at work pointed me in the direction of this cute video. It really reminds me of a friend of my mother; they may have been separated at birth!

Feliz Navidad

Last night we went to The Starlet's school Christmas extravaganza. Us and about 300 other families were packed into the auditorium like sardines, all jostling to see our beloved offspring, all believing that our child was the true star of the show.

Her school is a huge promoter of political correctness and "tolerance" so we dutifully sat through all the different interpretations of Christmas you could shake a stick at. We started off with the secular Santa Claus Is Coming To Town number("You'd Better Be Good!"), moved swiftly along to Kwanzaa ("Umoja!"), touched base with the Jews in the Hannukah skit ("Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel!") and even mentioned Mohammad for the sprinkling of Muslims in the audience ("Salaam means Peace!"). In light of all the effort to include every possible religious/cultural combination, I was surprised we didn't get the atheist version ("God doesn't exist! Santa is a myth!").

It was interesting to note that amidst all this PC-ness, they never once mentioned Jesus and Mary in the stable nor the Three Wise Men. You remember that old chestnut? The one we used to see every Christmas when we were kids? I guess that's not considered the done thing anymore.

The downside of the show was that we had to strain to see over all the multitude of people in front of us, and I was constantly distracted by other people. For example, I couldn't take my eyes off this lady here, who was sitting directly in front of us.

She was wearing too tight blue jeans paired with a blue jean top that had weird embroidery on it, making up an odd kind of denim uniform ensemble. But the really eye-catching thing about it was the fact that her underwear kept peeping out at us the entire time. We observed that they were a festive red and comforted ourselves that least it wasn't a thong! But enough of that and back to the show!

The Starlet was in the Mexican version, Feliz Navidad ("Feliz Navidad!"). All the boys wore sombreros and the girls colorful dresses, and there was much dancing and twirling, which suited our girl to a tee. She loved every minute of it. And she was the true star of the show. You could see the concentration on her face as she counted her steps, kicked and spun around - no way was she going to miss a step! And when she and her partner moved to the front of the stage to execute a particularly tricky dance movement, the crowd cheered when they were done. We were very proud. And as always, just seeing the look of delight on your child's face when they spot you in the crowd is worth sitting through anything!

Caution, Blogger Approaching!

I have finally begun to understand why people that I know and love, who are my friends, family and colleagues, appear to have fallen into the habit of stopping conversations in mid-sentence whenever I happen by. It's a development I've noticed happening more and more often recently, but never gave much thought to ... until now.

I was working at Cedar Creek yesterday and, as luck would have it, the very talented potter Tim Turner was firing his work in the wood kiln (that's Tim up there on the left).

He is the newest resident artist at the gallery but has already proven to be an invaluable asset, and I'm not saying that just because he feeds me lunch at least once a week (although he does, and it's marvelous, as he verges on master chef territory. And yes, I am kissing up; if you ever tried his Thai shrimp rolls you would, too). He is a very nice person, witty, and always quick to lend a hand to those in need. I mean look at him, doesn't he just look nice? That's 'cause he is.

Anyway, he was firing up the kiln and had managed to get the help of Brad Tucker, another obscenely talented resident potter at Cedar Creek. My house is full-to-the-brim with his work and I just bought a ton more for Christmas, that's how good he is. Brad is one of my favorite people in the world; he is extremely funny and a very generous man. Okay, so you probably can't get that from this picture, because in this picture he is telling me to quit taking his picture already, but trust me, he's a mensch.

Tim had also persuaded a friend his, the lovely Ruth, to pitch in as well. I have met her a couple of times and liked her a lot. She is a Brit - well, she's Welsh, but to us Yanks they're all the same - and while I don't have a picture of her, she is lovely.

It was a beautiful day and I decided to wander down to the kiln, say hello, admire their handiwork, and briefly enjoy the company of three swell people. As I got nearer, I just caught the tail end of a sentence from Tim that sounded something like, " ...dressed up like the Indian from the Village People". Ruth, who is a therapist by trade, then said, "You know, dreams are merely reflections of different aspects of ourselves". Tim did a kind of double-take and then he and Brad both laughed uproariously at her response. I admit I was intrigued and being a nosy git, I had to ask what in the world they were talking about.

Ruth opened her mouth and had just managed to get out the words, "It seems Tim had a dream abou-" when Tim jumped up and said, in a serious tone of voice one might use to warn of imminent danger, like say if a rabid bear was about to leap out and attack her, "Watch out Ruth! She's a blogger!", which of course stopped the story cold just as it was getting interesting.

Ruth was neatly sidetracked into asking me questions about blogging; "but why do you blog? what do you get out of it? who do you blog about? who reads it?" and thus the whole subject of Tim's dream was dropped. Nicely played, sir, nicely played.

It dawned on me that my friends, family and colleagues might worry I'll write about something they're really not that keen for me to share with the internets and maybe that's why they go schtum when I'm around. Either that or they think I'm a nosy butthead which, if I'm honest, is an equally valid conclusion. But heck, I would never deliberately talk about something here that I thought would betray a confidence or hurt their feelings in any way. At least not without warning them first. Or if it was funny. Or if it ... well, never mind, maybe they have a point.

As for Tim's dream, I did eventually get to hear the story and Brad and I spent a couple of enjoyable minutes making it sound much worse than it was and generally making fun because - let's face it - that's what friends are for, right? And just between us, it was a totally boring, very innocuous dream, really it was, even if it did involve cowboy chaps and an Indian headdress!

Be Back Tomorrow

I have been busy this week - working a lot of hours at the Gallery, making Christmas presents and have been a bit too tired to do any justice to the blog.

Will see you tomorrow!

Jingle All The Way Baby, Mama Needs A New Blog Design!

Thanks to a heads up from Bettejo (and "jo" is pronounced with a "j", people) I am now all excited at the chance to win a new design for my blog! I think you will all agree the current one is pretty sucky and if you've been reading NMSC for any length of time, you will know how much I DETEST all things blog design related. I have tried it, I can't do it, I know when I'm whipped and need some professional help!

So I'm throwing my virtual hat into the ring and entering the "Jingle All The Way" contest being run by Lara at Designed By Lara. She has already created quite a few fetching sites for other bloggers and is kindly offering template-challenged people such as myself a chance for a makeover. The rules state that I must tell you why I want a new template. Hmmm. I think it's pretty obvious myself, all you have to do is look at it! But in the spirit of competition here goes!
_________________________________________________________
Dear Lara,

I would dearly love to win a new blog template because of the following reasons:

1) The current version you see now is the result of three weeks of constant tinkering, breaking the page, reverting back to what I had before, tinkering some more, crying a little, breaking the page, reverting back to what I had before, screaming and throwing things at my husband in a rage because I kept breaking the page, tinkering and finally giving up and settling for what I have.

2) After three weeks of aforementioned tinkering, I still could not manage to fix the code so that you could click on my header to get back to my home page. This made me very angry in the face and yes, depressed. Not to mention the fact that my husband felt sorry for me and bought Not Much Southern Comfort.com so I could have a better blog, but I haven't a clue what to do with it yet, so it's been put to one side for now. Unless I win a new blog design!

3) My life is a state of constant chaos - I have four children, too many dogs, a live-in mother and a husband who's purpose in life is to borrow my car keys and forget where he put them. Having a beautifully designed neat and tidy blog, one that actually does what it's supposed to do, one that thoughtfully reflects the real me, would go a looooong way towards helping me stay sane.

4) I had a very sad and tragic childhood. I was forced to walk uphill to school, both ways, every day, we slept in a cardboard box on the side of the road and we were grateful for it, I was so unpopular I had to wear a pork chop around my neck just to get the dogs to play with me, and I was once spanked by a monkey!

Okay, I made the last one up (except for the bit about being spanked by a monkey, that part is true) but I was starting to get into the groove...

I have to say Lara, and I hope this won't reflect too badly on my entry, but it seems you have a slight sadistic streak. Asking me, an admitted computer imbecile, to embed a picture on the sidebar of my main blog bar......at least I think that's what you said, I'm not really sure, I kind of went into a coma after seeing "incomprehensible code=blah blah blah" in your instructions of what to do ..... is just this side of mean. Me likey that about you.

So in summation, please pick me! Please, please, pleeeease!

Yours sincerely,
Honeysuckle Rose
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And before I forget and seem ungrateful ....

I am slowly catching up from my trip last week - Pawhealer at the previously mentioned A Spiritual Dog Blog passed on the "Be The Blog" badge to me about the same time she tagged me for the 7 things that annoy me task.

What is it? Well, I am going to totally steal the quote from Paw's page "[it] really sums up what a successful blogger does. And what I mean by successful is that they make it their own, stay with it, are interactive with their readers, and just plain have fun."

Sometimes I wonder if people actually read this damn thing, not that it would make any difference to me, haha! But it's so nice to find out a few like it enough to comment occasionally. Many thanks ....it's extremely gratifying to get a nod of appreciation from a fellow blogger!

Seven Things That Annoy Me

While I was away last week, I was tagged by Pawhealer at A Spiritual Dog Blog who challenged me to list seven things that annoy me that I might not otherwise blog about. Thanks for thinking of me Paw! And go and read her blog, her recent weight reduction is awesome to behold!

Okay, now that I've had a chance to think about it, I realize there are waaaaay more than seven things in this world that annoy me, but I will try to boil it down to most recent and for once exclude my children, the dangers of religious extremism, or the fact that monkeys are still loose in the world.

They are, in no particular order:

1) People who say in a condescending fashion when asked for their email address "Oh, I don't have email, why I don't even have a computer! I make do with real life friends, thanks!" And then they twitter proudly, as if they aren't showing off the fact that they are a complete Luddite twat. They remind me of my great-grandmother who refused to get indoor electricity because "the devil was in the wires and he would make a spark and set the house on fire". Idiots.

2) That Hardee's Hula Girl commercial plugging their Hawaiian sandwich. You know the one. Surfer dude ogles and fondles the little hula girl statue on his dashboard while the voice-over guy says in a seductive we're-all-boys-together tone, "When a guy can't get his wahine to put some walakehaki ALL OVER his moa-oo ..... " complete with slurpy, crunching eating sound effects. It makes my skin crawl every time I see it. It is by far the creepiest in a long ling of sexist creepy commercials they have put out. I can only imagine their ad agency is full of horny and perpetually sexually frustrated frat-boys. Eww.

3) Drivers who adamantly refuse to use their turn signal. How many times have you been waiting to turn left, see oncoming traffic and wait for the car to pass, only to watch them suddenly turn right - without signaling - making you miss your chance to jump in front of the massive tailback caused by their crappy driving? This one just barely edged out the chick gabbing and laughing on the cell-phone who's going 50 in the fast lane, completely oblivious to the fact that she's a dangerous moron.

4) "Crawls" at the bottom of television shows. It started on CNN and other news networks and has insidiously infiltrated main stream programming. You're settled in, just beginning to enjoy your show, when suddenly Gil Grissom, sternly waving a flashlight around, pops up at the foot of the screen plugging "CSI - NEXT!". This is distracting to say the least and god forbid you're watching something with subtitles. I can't tell you how many times I have wished I was still a college student and could legitimately throw a beer can at the screen in frustration.

5) Woman who are anxious to assure you they're not feminists. They are invariably the stiletto wearing types with high-powered careers, nanny, and a husband who doesn't mind cleaning. Get over yourselves, ladies, and go and watch Billie Jean King: Portrait of a Pioneer. Kiss her butt and thank her, and the other women like her, for burning their bras to get YOU the opportunities you have today. Don't worry, you can still wear the pink lipstick, even after you do get a clue.

6) People who will only listen to one type of music. You are boring one-dimensional folk that are completely missing out on a comprehensive world view that will only help you grow as a person. I mean, come on, if hip-hop and country music stars Nelly and Tim McGraw can collaborate, can't you?

7) Children who roll their eyes in a sarcastic fashion. Now, I know I said I would leave children out of it, but I only meant my children. Eye-rolling is a malady afflicting all of our children, particularly the teenage-girl children that I have recently been substitute teaching. I have finally found a spokesperson to combat this problem - the scary grandma that is Madea. She is actually Tyler Perry in drag, but I'm not quibbling because she echoes my sentiments exactly!

We Came, We Saw, We Got Tickets

The Hubby and I set off- without children! - at 3am to beat the traffic. We were super excited to be getting away and actually going somewhere interesting that we both agreed on AND we were without children! I said that already? Oh.

Anyway, we sang along to the radio, told stories and giggled at each other for about 45 minutes .... and then the jarring blue lights of a Virginia State Trooper busted that little bubble. Ten minutes and one speeding ticket for going 80 in a 65 later, we continued on at a somewhat slower pace. That didn't dampen our spirits, nor did the bumper to bumper traffic that started a good hour outside Washington. We were without children! Look honey, it's the Capitol! Then we actually arrived.

It's been a long time since I've been to D.C. and the changes are quite disturbing. If you don't believe that we are now living in a police state, just mosey on down to our nation's capitol. In the downtown area, there are policemen on guard with sniffer dogs or parked in groups about every 20 yards. You can't get anywhere near The White House and the back of The Capitol Building looks just like The Berlin Wall used to - it's barricaded in concrete with barbed wire all around the top.

See the helicopter highlighted on the left of the Smithsonian Castle? It circled the downtown area constantly; we felt kind of sorry for whoever pulled that duty, going round in circles all day. Every building you go into has a metal detector and your bags are searched. It's sad, as I remember being able to wander in and out of buildings at will. An unfortunate but probably necessary by-product of 9/11 and the war.

Having said all that, we still had a good time. Our hotel was right off Independence Avenue, across the street from the new Native American museum and next to the Library of Congress, well within walking distance of the mall. Since we had such limited time, we concentrated on all the different branches of the Smithsonian.

We were very lucky with the weather, it was absolutely gorgeous and fairly warm, perfect for rambling around. I was wearing comfortable shoes, unlike this lovely lady who was rocking a pair of PVC boots that were pretty hot. Before I got old and grumpy, these are just the sort of boots I would have lusted for. Now that I've stepped off the fashion train, my ratty house-slippers are the footwear of choice!

We spent a good few hours at the National Gallery of Art, which is currently showing a an excellent retrospective of painter Edward Hopper in the East building. It features all his iconic paintings plus a film narrated by Steve Martin, who is apparently a fan.

It was well worth jostling through the crowds to see his work up close and personal. It really evokes a different time, when ladies wore nylons and men sported nifty hats. I tried to get The Husband to buy a fedora from the gift shop, but he declined, the spoil-sport.

We moved on to the Natural History museum so the hubby could look at what seemed like endless amounts of meteorites (yawn) and watch scientists putting a dinosaur back together inside a glassed-in lab (more yawning), but I did finally get to see The Hope Diamond. It was nice, but not as much fun as finding this fellow and all his monkey friends stuffed and mounted safely behind glass. Not that I'm at all obsessed with monkeys, no not me!

Since the History museum was closed for renovations (bummer) The National Air and Space Museum was up next. It was as fantastic as I remembered and The Hubby finally got the gyroscope he has wanted since he was six years old and his brother had one but [/cue weepy violins] wouldn't even let him touch it, much less play with it. Another tragic childhood injustice has been righted at last!

As we wandered around, a large group of Asian tourists surged in and immediately started snapping random pictures. I took this one for my friend John-Billy who often accuses me of the same behavior. Look mate, this is the real thing!

On our way out of town, we made a short visit to the new American Indian museum - it was short because there's nothing to see in it but gift shops selling over-priced dream-catchers for 20 bucks. It's a stunningly designed building but was a huge disappointment. Then when we got back to the car, we found a parking ticket on the windshield. The meter ran out at 4.00pm, the ticket was timed at 4.01pm and get this - it was for $100.00. Sheesh.

The Hubby was hoping to get another ticket on the way home to complete the hat-trick and I was relieved when he failed that particular attempt. All in all, we had a blast. We ate well, saw lots of cool stuff and told each other we wished we could stay longer .... but I was kind of happy to get home and see the kids. There I said it, but for the love of God don't tell any of them I did!

We're Back!

Back safe and sound, had a fun time, but I'm awfully tired now. Will post more about our trip tomorrow!

Seizing The Day(s)

The Husband and I got the chance to go to Washington D.C. for a couple of days and so we're off later this evening! The trip is really to deliver some merchandise for Cedar Creek, but we decided to spend a little time there and make something of it. Grandma agreed to let us dump The Punk on her, she really is the best!

We managed to get a downtown hotel suite in a decent hotel for around $150, which pleases me greatly. Hurrah for last minute booking!

I'm taking my camera and will tell you all about it when we get back!

And The Bride Was Beautiful ....

Isn't she lovely? Okay, this isn't really the bride, this is the bride's fat little chihuahua dog, Marcie. But she does have an inner glow that's simply radiating the thought, "You are a bunch of assholes for making me wear this getup, I detest each and every one of you down to your atomic particles."

To me, there's nothing more satisfying that making a dog sport a funny outfit; I laughed for at least five minutes when I saw her waddling dejectedly around the grounds in her veil.

But in all seriousness, the wedding was touching and very nicely done, even though it was OUTSIDE. At 5pm. In the COLD. They had a marquis surrounded by outdoor heaters and a couple of those nifty movable fireplaces, so it actually wasn't that bad considering it was nearly 40F.

The elderly minister had a bit of trouble remembering the groom's name a couple of times and we enjoyed the added bonus of the reverend losing his place in the proceedings and starting all over again at just about the point he was supposed to be saying, " .... and I now pronounce you husband and wife". Everyone, including the bride and groom, tried to stifle their giggles while he was gently corrected and the happy couple were married at last.

Here is a picture of The Husband and two of the girls at the reception. They look really nice underneath the coats and sweaters!

We left The Punk at home, being scaredy-cat parents afraid of what he might get into, but wouldn't you know it, there was someone who was delighted to fill in for him on the night.

Somehow, in the way that only children can, The Starlet (she's on the right) became completely covered in dog poo (I'm convinced it was Marcie's revenge) which she then managed to smear on my very expensive suede coat and The Husband's pair of slacks, as well. It was a fun drive home, smelling like shite and listening to her disgusted - and poo free - sister mutter about how gross we all were. A stinky ending to an otherwise lovely day!

A Frosty White Wedding

We are off to watch The Husband's brother get hitched and I am less than thrilled. Not about his choice of bride, who is quite lovely, nor out of any dislike for his brother, but because they have chosen to do it OUTSIDE. At 5pm. In the COLD. And the reception? OUTSIDE. In the COLD.

The air has taken a decidedly nipply turn since Thanksgiving Day's balmy 70 degree weather and is now more in line with winter. I racked my brains trying to think of something classy - yet weather appropriate - to wear and came to the conclusion that the correct outfit for this situation is thermal underwear. I'm pretty sure nobody is going to notice them under my scarf, fuzzy hat and woolly coat! Oooh, I just remembered I have some of those LL Bean hand warmer thingies, too! Nice. That should make it a tad more bearable.

Have a good weekend, think of me when you're sitting in front of the fire all toasty warm later this evening!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I was going to post a little video of The Punk at his school's turkey pageant but have been vetoed by The Husband and Emergency Back-Up Husband who think that's not a good idea, seeing how other people's kids would be on the tape, too. I can see their point, but I'm disappointed you won't be able to view The Punk not singing or dancing or sitting down or stopping talking or doing anything he was supposed to do.

However, he did clap enthusiastically after the end of every bit; he was by far the best clapper in the crowd!

So I will content myself with wishing you a happy holiday and a picture of him in his Indian get-up instead!

I Am Totally Fabulous!

Many thanks to Bettejo at A Bead A Day who thinks I am fabulous and passed this on to me! If you have never read her blog, please stop what you're doing right now and go do so. She is very funny, extremely open in what she writes about, AND she makes absolutely beautiful jewelry. While you're there, don't forget to buy something!

I would in turn like to pass it along to my pal Vito at The Long Road To Priesthood. He is chronicling his mid-life decision to change careers and pursue a religious life. I am most sincere when I say I don't believe you'll find a more moving and thought-provoking account of a spiritual journey. He is an exquisite word-smith and he has killer taste in music!

The next person I pass the "fabulous" tag along to is Zesty at Zesticle.com mainly because he is fabulous and has a devilish sense of humor (me likey that a lot). Plus, I suspect he would loath getting such a (pink) award, which is an added bonus that gives me just a little bit of pleasure. I just wish he would post more often!

Since You Asked

I have run into a few people (who read my blog) who were concerned for my health, particularly the state of my shoulder. As a chronic hypochondriac, I found this very pleasing; however, I didn't mean to actually alarm anyone! As Mr. Grumpy put it today, "you made it sound like you were nearly paralyzed and at death's door and then you never mentioned it again! Yo, wassup with dat, dawg?" Or words to that effect.

Er, many apologies! I simply didn't want to seem like a whiner, but since you asked, it's a little bit better now. However, I'm not sure if it's really getting better or if I'm just getting used to having a frozen shoulder and tennis elbow. I have discovered that it might be a symptom of peri-menopause according to extremely interesting website called PowerSurge. If you are remotely interested in "the change" go check it out!

And to answer a few other questions ....

Yes, I was really spanked by a monkey. Snicker all you want, monkeys are dangerous and need to be watched at all times!

Yes, The Husband has cracked (already!) and shaved off his face scruff. This makes me very sad-in-the-face because now I have to shave my legs, et cetera. I was quite excited by the idea of not shaving, it was like my own ghetto scientific experiment or something.

Yes, I am still substitute teaching, yes, the American school system is currently pretty broken, yes, kids today are just a leeetle bit scary and YES, I am crazy.

No, we haven't donated The Punk to the orphanage ... yet. He still alive and well and living in our house and not out in the pen The Husband has been busy constructing. For now.

Yes, I think Britney Spears should be on suicide watch. She is a woman on the edge, I feel for her, I wish there was something someone could do. Where is Oprah, dammit? I bet she could fix it!

Any other questions you may have, let me know, I have lots of answers. They may not be good, or even right, but I got 'em.

Take Your Stinking Paws Off Me You Damned Dirty Ape!

I don't want to be an alarmist, but I told you so!

Today brings fresh reports of thieving monkeys running amok in India. According to Breitbart, "monkeys are out of control in India's northeast, stealing mobile phones and breaking into homes to steal soft drinks from refrigerators, lawmakers in the region have complained."

The problem has gotten so bad that - and this is the money quote - "monkeys were even slapping women who tried to chase them."
Now isn't that just like a monkey? As I've chronicled here previously, I've been struck in anger by a simian bully and it's not pleasant.

It's crystal clear that the monkeys have chosen India to stage the first phase of their revolution. I suppose you can't blame them really, humans have forced their hand by our own over-breeding. But we must start making plans before they manage to steal more than our soft drinks. If they somehow manage to spawn a real life Dr. Zaius, we're all doomed!

It's Getting A Little Hairy Around Here

The Husband has recently announced that he will be growing a beard. This came as quite a surprise for two reasons :-

Reason 1
I don't like him with a beard. And quite frankly, shouldn't that be enough reason for him to kill the idea when it crossed his mind in the first place?

Reason 2
He is physically unable to grow a full-on beard. What he can do is grow spotty patches of bum-fluff that are haphazardly arranged on his face in an asymmetrical fashion that is displeasing to the eye. And scratchy. Plus, I could probably grow a thicker mustache than he can, not that I should be admitting that in public.

However, never let it be said I am not a supportive wife!

In solidarity I have decided to jump on the non-shaving bandwagon and will hence forth stop shaving my legs and under my arms. And anything else he might want shaved, if you get my drift.

I am very much looking forward to be a hirsute lady. I would like to claim it's because I am sick and tired of our society's patriarchal and outdated views of feminine beauty and it's high time to reclaim our bodies from media distortion, but the honest truth is, it's winter and I'm just plain lazy.

Viva la bristle~

Ending World Hunger One Word At A Time

You have got to check out the Free Rice website. It's a vocabulary quiz - wait, stay with me - where for every word definition you get right, 10 grains of rice are donated to the United Nations World Food Program. The mechanics of how they do this is all explained quite succinctly and it's kind of fun, in a geeky way I admit, to find out how learned you are. There are 50 levels of difficulty and I got up to level 48 before I had to start making some serious guesses. Not that I'm at all competitive or anything, I just want to do my bit to end world hunger any way I can ....

More Difficulties Grrrr

The computer is now working as intended - unfortunately now my body has decided to seize up.

While trick or treating with The Punk at Halloween, I was walking through our front yard and fell into a hole that The Husband had skillfully left as a trap for clumsy people such as myself. I thought for a minute I had broken my ankle, but it was just a bad sprain and the entire right side of my body was sore. (If you know me, you won't be surprised, as I am extremely prone to fits of falling down for no apparent reason, completely sober, in a most embarrassing fashion.)

But this time has been different. The pain hasn't gone away. In fact, it has become progressively worse until I seem to have lost most of the function of my right arm (it feels like a wet noodle and I have shooting pains down into my wrist) and my shoulder feels like it's on fire all the time. I need to go see a doctor, I think, but I haven't got any health insurance, so I'm loath to go.

Which would lead nicely into a rant about the US and its health care system, except that to sit here and type is hard to do for longer than a couple of minutes. Suffice it to say, I'm not a Republican.

Instead I will keep popping Advil and save what strength I do have right now for work related activities. But I've been mentally writing blogs in my head and let me tell you, they're fantastic. You would have laughed, cried and whooped with joy when you read them, trust me. Maybe one day soon I can get them out of my head and onto the screen!

Technical Difficulties

I have sat down many times since last Wednesday to blog about whatever the hell it is I blog about, only to have some issue with my computer. The result has been one "lost" post and three half-written attempts that - once recovered from computer purgatory - I have deemed crappy for whatever reason and left them to die unseen.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate computers? I have? Well let me say it again, I hate them.

Hopefully the issues I've been having are going to go away now that I have contacted my IT guy (The Husband) and voiced my displeasure and suspicions that it's probably something he did in the first place.

Fingers crossed that normal bloggery will resume tomorrow!

Name Change

Due to the fact that The Boy has taken to ...

1) poo-ing in the shower, causing much drama with his sister in one particularly nasty incident involving the rubber ducky she gave him to play with...

2) picking his nose, carefully eating the results, and giggling...

3) dropping his pants and waving his junk around at people singing "look at my willy ..... my willy .... my willy .... my WILLY!" until he is physically restrained and re-clothed...

...he is being renamed The Punk. Pray for him.

School Daze, Or What I Learned Last Week

Last week I was asked by the local high school to come in and sub for a missing teacher who taught Spanish. Even though I am qualifying to teach middle school I thought, what the hey, classroom experience is classroom experience, it's all good, right? And the absent teacher had left lesson plans that were pretty self-explanatory, so all I had to do was make sure they didn't burn the school down. What's so hard about that?

Well, it turns out high school sure is different from when I was a girl!
_________________________________________________________________

Things I Learned In High School Last Week

Today's average teenage girl likes to dress like a sexy pole-dancer or a goth. There is no happy medium, unless you're a jock girl in which case you may wear a revealing track suit that shows off your multiple tats in a pleasing fashion, or the lone Muslim lass wearing a habib and sitting alone at lunch. However, heavy black eyeliner is a requirement for all girls, regardless of their social standing.

Quite a few of the senior girls looked older than me, and I'm 42. Honestly, I found that to be kinda scary.

There is definitely no longer any shame in out-of-wedlock birth. On the contrary, it's the norm. There were two 16 year old girls in just one class that had 6 month old babies and another one - in the same class - who was 7 months pregnant and couldn't wait for her baby to arrive.

It's difficult to reel in student initiated conversations that might have been considered out of bounds twenty years ago. Topics ranging from how worthless they baby daddy is to how drunk they got at the weekend fly freely and it seems pretty pointless to try and stop them when they're showing off pictures of their kids.

There is a fairly strong 'out' gay community who are accepted without comment by their peers, but only if they're white gay boys, 'cause "they're sooooooo cuuuuute". Woe betide the black guy who would like to be a "cuuuuuute" gay guy too, just ain't gonna happen. And god help you if you're a lesbian - they are considered icky and to be called one is fightin' talk round these parts.

If asked to break up into groups to work, the students will divide themselves racially. It never failed to happen.

The Indian kid is still the smartest one in the room.

Teenage boys are still as gauche and pimply as I remember.

Substitute teachers are considered the lamest of the lame and fair game for insults and ridicule. It would appear at least one thing will never change!

The officer manager asked me if I would come back, and even though I said yes, this experience just reaffirms my desire to stay away from teaching anyone over the age of 13. But next time I think I'll wear armor.

Happy Halloween!

We spent an enjoyable hour this evening walking around the neighborhood and letting The Boy loose on the general public. This year he has finally cottoned on that people will give you candy for free and all you have to do is ring the doorbell! And to be honest, he seemed to have more fun ringing doorbells than anything else (I see trouble coming on that front in a couple of years, call it a mother's intuition).

We went with George The Emergency Back-up Husband and his daughter Olivia. The Boy was Dracula and she was The Devil. Don't they make a cute pair? It's too bad she loathes him with all the passion a 7 year old little girl can muster while he worships the ground she walks on. Awwwww....

Hope you all have a fun one and be safe!

Ah, The Good Life

I was all stressed out and depressed after last week's general awfulness and looking for something to cheer me up, when I came across rapper Kanye West's official fan site plugging his latest album. Now I have to tell you, I have had a soft spot for Kanye ever since he appeared with Mike Myers during the US telethon for Katrina victims and denounced the media for perpetuating racial stereotypes and angrily going on to proclaim "George Bush doesn't care about black people" (if you've never seen it, treat yourself and look here).

Watching it live, I just about fell out of my chair for two reasons: 1) up until that point, nobody famous had ever been quite so blunt about a very obvious fact - although to be completely fair, he should have said "George Bush doesn't care about anybody he's not related to and/or friends with" and 2) the panic stricken look on Mike Myers face as he realizes that he's standing next to an extremely pissed-off black man who is not reading the script. King of the improv my ass, more like deer in headlights, hahaha.

The media fire-storm that followed might have put a lesser person into a tailspin, but not our Kanye. Instead of apologizing, he decided to pose as Jesus for a Rolling Stone cover. You gotta hand it to him, that took muy grande cojones. Or a complete lack of self-awareness. Either way, take that haters!

Most recently he was in the news for having a hissy fit meltdown at the MTV awards because the producers opted to let Britney open the show instead of him and then he didn't win anything. The drama! The swearing! It's all on tape of course! (although I think we can all agree he had a point about the whole Britney fiasco.)

Poor Kanye ...he made headlines again for being a big crybaby but...here's the thing that makes me like him. Every time he acts a fool he soon afterwards pokes fun at himself. He appeared on the Emmy's, "losing" a rap-off to the whitest white man ever, Rainn Wilson, and then went on to totally take the piss out of himself and his tantrums on Saturday Night Live. He either has a really good sense of humor or an awesome PR person who has him under their thumb, take your pick.

But wait a minute, I hear you ask, what's so fantastic about his website? Well, it showcases his music and stuff, but the real gem of it is his blog. I guess you can call it a blog, although a more accurate description would be that it's just a long list of wonderful products you will never ever be able to afford and pictures of him with beautiful people you will never ever meet. It's shallow and vacuous, so of course I love it. Go check it out - it's soooooo worth it just to find out what his fans think of oh, I don't know, the new Damien Hirst installation at the NY Met, which he plugs.

Along with thoughtful comments about the value of Hirst as an artist, there are those who feel moved to say "that's ill as s*it!!!", "Hirst is mad dope!" and my personal fave, "i wish i had a shark in my crib". I'm feeling ya dawg.

I leave you with my new favorite song of the moment, The Good Life. It's an upbeat song - let's go on a living spree, indeed - and the production values are awesome. Enjoy! ***I realize this video kinda breaks my page if you're using Firefox, sorry***

Althea Garcia Jerry

Today has been a not so good day. In fact, I would go so far as to say it's been pretty shitty. For a start, I threw my back out this morning and have been hobbling around in a fair amount of pain and being generally useless.


But far worse than that, Althea - my husband's much loved pedigreed bassett hound that he has had for thirteen years - had to be put down today. She had breast cancer two years ago. At the time, the vet told us that in all probability it would come back sooner rather than later, but we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best. She also told us that if and when the cancer did come back that it would be inoperable because of her age and general condition. So we knew it was coming, we just didn't know when. About a month ago she started showing the signs; she had a persistent cough and a tumor started to grow again in the same spot as before.

We all pretended at first that we didn't notice it, but a 60-pound dog with chronic phlegm and a lump on her side is hard to ignore for long. I know some people would wait until the bitter end, but she was beginning to suffer and we just couldn't bear to watch her get worse. Luckily for us, the local vet makes house calls for this sort of thing, so she just drifted off to sleep in my husband's lap surrounded by her family. One of our best friends, Sean, came by and was with us when it happened and also helped dig her grave in the rain. Thanks Sean, you're the best.

We will miss Althea's booming bark and her constant vigil under The Boy's chair waiting for food to fall. We will miss her happy dance when it was feeding time, and her constant bullying of the other dogs - there was never a question who the queen of the pack was. The picture above pretty much sums up where she was most content; waiting patiently to be fed, yet guarding her bowl from any potential enemy activity. She's in a better place now and I sure hope her all-time favorite, pizza, is waiting for her when she arrives.

The Yanks ... I Mean, The British Are Coming!

As I settled in to watch the new fall season TV shows I had TiVo'd last night, it finally dawned on me that many of them had one thing in common; they all starred British actors doing American accents. Or "Britishers", as the US media increasingly continues to label them for some reason, which annoyingly makes them sound like some kind of cute breed of hunting dog.

Casting Brits in shows over here is nothing new, I know, but I have to admit I have struggled with some of the choices made by Hollywood over the years. Probably the most famous example is the multi-talented Angela Lansbury.


As a little girl, I loved her in Bedknobs and Broomsticks and when I got older, I really loved her turn as the bloodthirsty pie shop owner in the musical Sweeney Todd. But as the sweet, crime-solving grannie in the ubiquitous Murder She Wrote? Not so much ...

Al 'swears-a-lot' Swearengen, the evil, rotten motherf*cking bad guy on Deadwood is Ian McShane?! But...but...but...he's the dashing antiques-dealer-divvie-with-a-heart-of-gold Lovejoy, for chrissakes!

I kept waiting for Al to reveal that he's actually a nice guy and save the day, or at least admire the provenance of the pianoforte in the saloon, but sadly he just kept pistol whipping the whores in the whorehouse.

Hugh Laurie as the curmudgeonly doctor House?!!! This really, really gets to me, as much as I love the show. If you didn't know, he was already quite famous as a comedian in England, starring with comedy partner Stephen Fry in their own sketch series and the excellent Jeeves and Wooster, not to mention his hilarious turn as the total buffoon George in the Blackadder series. His American accent, in my opinion, is still a little dodgy, and I keep expecting him to shout out "What-ho Jeeves!" at any minute. But I suppose it's only a fair trade for Dick Van Dyke's excruciating Cockney accent in Mary Poppins.

So what fresh faces have we got amongst this year's offerings? Let's see, Journeyman stars Kevin McKidd, who's actually Scottish, but we won't hold that against him. He was fantastic as Lucius Vorenus in Rome and is the only reason I decided to give this new show a try. His Yank accent is decent, although he tends to mumble, but sadly the show is a poor man's version of Quantum Leap. They should have just made another series of Rome for him, dagnabbit.

Then there's Anna "first-lesbian-kiss-on-a-UK-soap" Friel, starring as 'Chuck' in Pushing Up Daisies. It's an excellent dark comedy and she's very good in it - you would never know she was English. But I still look at her and think, lesbian! And Scouse lesbian at that. It's sad but true; if you break through in an iconic role in showbusiness, typecasting is a real problem, folks.

In the remake of The Bionic Woman, the title role is played by beautiful Michelle "also-had-a-lesbian-kiss-on-a-UK-soap" Ryan. Hey, wait just a sapphic minute! Is Hollywood only willing to cast English women if they've played a hottie dyke on a soap? Is this some pervy casting director's private little game? What's up with that?

At any rate, her accent isn't bad, but as for acting chops, she's blown off the radar by on-screen rival Katie Sackhoff, who is American and has never lesbian kissed anyone that I am aware of, so she's clearly lucky to have gotten the job.

Then there's Damian Lewis, who stars in Life. Thankfully, he's a man and was spared having to pass the seemingly mandatory overseas-lesbo-kissing test required for the ladies. But here's a twist - I had no idea he was British, nor did I ever suspect! I mean, c'mon, he was Capt. Winters, the ultimate American good guy in the WWII drama Band of Brothers!!!!

From what I understand, the rest of the cast - even those pervy casting directors - didn't know he was English either, so good is his adopted accent. He actually sounds like he's from a distinct region in the US, rather from some undetermined monotone spot in the mid-Atlantic (hello Hugh Laurie, I'm talking to you). A tip of the hat to you, Damian. If your career ever flounders, you can open an elocution academy in LA.

I suppose I am in the minority here in the US in being able to not only recognize stars from the UK but to have actually seen their work over there and over here. But I'm telling you, if any of these new shows are hits, we can expect even more of an invasion from across the pond as those pesky Britishers trample each other to get over here to steal our women, land, and tea and take our jobs....

This alarming trend must be nipped in the bud immediately before some dim bulb at NBC starts scraping the bottom of the television barrel and offers Jade Goody a contract. Yikes!

Never Trust A Monkey

According to BBC news, monkeys put out a hit on the deputy mayor of Dehli and had him whacked. Oh, they tried to make it look like he accidentally fell from his balcony, but it's obvious they pushed him off. According to the story, the area has been plagued by hordes of monkeys because devout Hindus revere them as a manifestation of the god Hanuman and are reluctant to cull them.

In fact, they feed them instead. But some people, like the deputy mayor, were attempting to lower the growing population menace by hiring monkey catchers and training larger monkeys to kill them on sight. C'mon people, wake up! It's obvious these monkeys organized a gang and plotted revenge! You just can't screw with their sweet setup without violent repercussions! They are crazy mad!

I have longed believed that we should keep an eye on monkeys at all times; they are clever, have opposable thumbs, and are out to get us. I am always on guard for a sneak monkey attack.

Why? I guess in the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that I was spanked by a monkey when I was four.

It happened at the NC State Zoo in Asheboro; some moron decided it was okay to let a "tame" monkey run around in a diaper and interact with visitors. I have a very clear memory of being completely enchanted by this amazing-monkey-in-a-diaper that was just my size and innocently went up to talk to it. It hadn't had its coffee or something that morning because it suddenly grabbed me, flipped me over its knee, and walloped me several times before embarrassed staff grabbed it and hustled it away, leaving me upset and unable to watch The Jungle Book or Planet Of The Apes without a sense of dread forever more.

As this happened back in the 60's, it ended up as a 'funny' anecdote (where the punchline ends with me whining, "Monkey spanked me!") for my parents to tell every boyfriend I ever had, rather than a full blown hysterical multi-million dollar lawsuit, scandal, and subsequent emotional television appearances on Good Morning America and/or the The View the awful experience deserved!

And I hate to say it, but we're letting monkeys spiral out of control here in America, as well!



Oh sure, defenders will say the monkeys are working for us, but when you get mugged by a rogue macaque gang enforcer on a dark street corner some day, don't say I didn't warn you ......

A Most Unexpected Outing

J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series, revealed on Friday that she "always thought of Dumbledore as gay" during a book reading at Carnegie Hall in New York. In answer to the question was the Headmaster of Hogwarts ever in love, she didn't even pause before propelling him out of the closet at high speed!

This is depressing news, for me anyway, as it just goes to prove my gay friends right yet again. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had that have spooled out along the lines of ....

Me: (admiringly)
I loved Viggo Mortensen in A History of Violence, he was really go-

Gay Friend: (interrupting)
He's gay!

Me: (irritated)
No, he's not!

Gay Friend: (gleefully)
Yes, he is!

Me: (irritated)
How the hell do you know?

Gay Friend: (smugly)
I have a friend, who's a friend of a friend of the concierge at the Chateau Marmont in LA, who said his boyfriend's ex-lover's mate shagged him last year.

Me: (amazed)
What in the hell are you talking about!? You believe that crap?

Gay Friend: (insistent)
He's gay, I'm telling you. I've heard.

Me: (annoyed)
Look, just cause you want him to be gay doesn't make it true. You say everyone in Hollywood is gay anyway!

Gay Friend: (smug again)
Oh, honey, that's because they are.

Me: (incredulous)
You're seriously telling me Tom Hanks is gay?

Gay Friend: (sincerely)
Yep.

Me: (amazed)
And Clint Eastwood? And Stephen Spielberg? And Jack friggin' Nicholson?

Gay Friend: (happily)
Gay! Gay! Gay!

Me: (disgusted)
You're insane.

Gay Friend: (comforting)
The truth hurts, girlfriend, the truth hurts.

Over the years, I've had this sort of conversation about many, many celebrities with many, many gay men, and dagnabbit if the gay boys aren't correct more often than not! To be fair, quite a few worked in the entertainment industry, so I guess they are closer to the ground as far as that kind of thing goes (so to speak). And yes some of the celebrities in question are kind of obvious, even to a straight girl. Clay Aiken immediately springs to mind, and not just because you can call him "Gay" Aiken for a cheap laugh.

As for Albus Dumbledore, I was informed last year he was obviously homosexual. I didn't get that from reading the books, but a gay friend told me all the signs were there and I refused to believe him. The truth hurts, girlfriend, the truth hurts.

Now, if someone tells me Mike Rowe plays for the other team, I'm really gonna scream.

The Confederate States Of America

I was flipping channels last night and landed on a film called The C.S.A. (The Confederate States Of America). I'm a bit of a history buff and at first thought it was a real documentary about the Confederate side of the Civil War. But it soon became clear that it was a "mocumentary", answering the question, what if the South had won? The film, made by Kevin Wilmott and produced by Spike Lee, is a satirical look at what would have happened to this country had the North lost, Abraham Lincoln had been hounded to Canada, and we made slavery mandatory back in 1865.

It is a very well done slice of alternative history, filmed in the irresistible style of Ken Burns. There were the eloquent historians talking to camera, old black and white photos, "historical" documents, clips from fictional movies such as "I Married An Abolitionist!", and the now de riguer celebrities reading letters in a very moving way. In this reality, The C.S.A. conquered Mexico and most of South America, was allied with Hitler during WWII, and Canada was the home of Hollywood and rock and roll.

One of the more amusing conceits was the inclusion of "commercials" from the present day pushing products like Niggerhair Cigarettes, Darky Toothpaste, and Sambo motor oil, and urging you to visit The Coon Chicken Inn, to name but a few. Very clever, I thought to myself - until the end of the film when it was revealed that these were, in fact, all real products and places from the 19th and 20th centuries. Then it wasn't quite so funny anymore.




As a matter of fact, Darky Toothpaste was still being manufactured in Asia until 1978, when Proctor and Gamble bought it and changed the name to Darlie. And although it wasn't shown in the film, I did find that there is a condom still being sold in Japan called Power Black Color Rubber, with the tag line "Keep it real. Keep on faith. Keep it going. Piece! So cool. Respect."

Right.

I'm late to this party - the film came out in 2005, the DVD in 2006, and only now is it being shown on cable. But if you get the chance to watch it, do. I bet Aunt Jemimah and Uncle Ben would probably really appreciate it.