Mercury Retrograde & Lent Update

Blackberry service went all screwy in our area earlier this week: Mercury Retrograde. 

 So far I’ve still been able to maintain an unattractive hairstyle for Lent.  

The Day After

Okay, Valentine’s Day is over.  Yesterday, I came across all these lists of romantic movies to watch for Valentine’s Day.  Well, it’s over and there are some people who are anti-Valentine’s and want to wipe off the icky, ooey-gooey love stuff.  It’s understandable.  I used to be hatin’ too.  So, my friend Aimee and I made a list of Anti-Valentine’s movies.  I have not listed them in any particular order. 

1.  The Burning Bed.  Yes, that classic Farrah Fawcett made-for-TV classic.  Francine Hughes gets revenge after 13 years of abuse. I once watched this with a line of tequila shots in front of me to help get over a bad break-up.  I laughed at parts I probably shouldn’t have but it was so therapeutic and I was able to put the relationship behind me once the hangover subsided.
2. Sid & Nancy. The first time I saw the genius of Gary Oldman on-screen.  What a dysfunctional couple.  No cupid and hearts with Sid and Nancy.  Also, keep an eye out for Courtney Love.  She’s in this early 80s classic of destructive love.
3. First Wives Club.  Comedy and revenge.  Perfect if you aren’t too angry and bitter but don’t want cutsy fairy tales either.
4. Sylvia.  Sylvia Plath killed herself.  Was it her man or mood disorder?  You be the judge but no bed of roses. If you are a Daniel Craig fan, this is one of his efforts pre-007.
5. The Hours.  This one encompasses a couple of dysfunctional relationships, but after I watched it I felt better about myself.  It made me think how lucky I am to have the friends I have.  I can’t imagine Aimee saying something dramatic and then flinging herself out of a window.  Most likely she would end up going out of the window by tripping over something and then she would take the curtains down with her.
6. Kill Bill Vols. 1&2.  The Bride goes after her baby daddy and kicks some ass along the way.  Perfect. Good fighting.
7. The War of the Roses. Kathleen Turner, Michael Douglas, Danny DeVito.  What happens to love and passion when it goes sour…like a good wine that turns to vinegar.   And that poor cat.
8. Heathers. hehehehehe.  Winona blows her man up.
9. Monster. Charlize Theron looks so bad that she will make any Valentine’s candy taste like ass…but the acting is really good.  Disturbing film. Sad.
10. Little Children. This movie made me suddenly not like living in the suburbs and not being married.  It just made me feel uncomfortable all around.  Definitely not a lovey-dovey film.
11. Fatal Attraction.  That was one crazy bitch.  Deserves him right.  I hope he learned his lesson.

Okay, if you are tired of the hearts and flowers all this week.  Do you need to lock yourself away and detox from it all?  Perhaps check out one of these movies.  You may feel better for it.

Most of these movies are just really good and amusing.  I’ve got a hankerin’ to watch Heathers now.  Regardless of what mind-frame you are in these movies are worth checking out. 

Politics is Dirty Business

On and off today, my mind would go to the question of– To vote or not to vote? Aside from the ice storm, I can’t say that I wanted to vote.  When it comes to having a say in electing the next leader of my country, I’m quite defeatest.  What’s the point?  My vote really doesn’t matter, does it?  It’s all about the delegates.  Now in the media I’m hearing super delegate dropped a lot.  What the hell?  Why can’t I just vote and have that vote feel like it means something.  I was so excited and proud when I registered at 18.  Now I’m not so excited…I’m not too sure that I’m proud.

I know many people who are just gonzo for Obama.  I don’t like him.  There’s something about him I don’t like.  I’m thinking it might be because he looks like Jeriba in the move Enemy Mine. 

 

Jeriba was the alien character played by Louis Gossett, Jr.  Dennis Quaid was in the movie too.  It was a little odd as I recall.  Jeriba spoke a very odd language; like Donald Duck on acid.  Jeriba and Dennis Quaid’s character had a kid together.  I told you it was a little strange.  Stranger still was (spoiler) Jeriba dies and I cried like a baby.

I digress.

Hopefully, a character from a movie is not what is giving me bad vibes about him.  It does look like he’s always wearing lipstick.  That’s not it either.  I cannot put my finger on it.  Anyway, my mother, who is good with conspiracy theories, thinks some wheeling and dealing is going on beyond the scenes with the elections.  She says (in her half German/half Alabama accent), “Politics is dirty business.”  I don’t doubt that for a second.  It did come to my mind that voting is going on while Mercury is retrograde (see a couple posts back) and hijinks could ensue, if they haven’t already.

Now I’m just rambling.  To sum up,  I didn’t vote tonight.  I resigned to my defeatest feelings of the election and stayed home.  What’s the use.  Just live as best I can and be thankful no matter who becomes the next President that least I don’t live in Sudan or Chad.

God Bless America.

Spilling the beans

A woman can keep one secret – the secret of her age.

Voltaire (1694 – 1778)

It has come up recently that I cannot keep a secret.  This may be so.  I don’t know but I have been thinking about it.  I sometimes become obsessed with personal flaws like I’m really going to change them.  I can’t complete the laundry process in my house.  I clean the clothes, fold but never put them away so there are piles of clothes all around.  I hate it but I cannot commit myself to finish the last step. Piles of clothes is a huge flaw that I can’t mend so I can’t imagine that I will fix my inablility to keep a secret.   If ,in fact, I do have the inablility to keep a secret.

The first time I remember spilling the beans I must have been 3 or 4.  Probably most likely I was 4.  Can we remember things as far back as 3? Anyway, my Oma was visiting that summer from Germany.  My parents, my brother, cousins that had come with Oma, Oma and myself went to an amusement park.  Kings Dominion, if I had to speculate.  There was a kind of attraction where folks climbed into a stagecoach.  The driver gave the occupants a bag of gold to hide “in case” bandits attacked us.  So, in the heat of the summer we all piled into the coach.  My legs sticking to my mother’s as I sat on her lap.  The bag of gold was taken by Oma and stashed in her bosom.  Certainly to be a secret enough place.  THhe coach gets going and soon the bandits stop us.  Lots of noise and the bang of prop guns going on.  The door opened a man with a kerchef disguising his face and a silver pistol leaned in, demanding our valuables.  No one said anything.  The pistol kept moving around in front of me.  I was scared and panicked.  My mother kept whispering to me to be quiet and assuring me the pistol was fake.  But, you know, what if it wasn’t.  The fake gun was switched for a real one and this guy meant business?  So, my arm shot out, finger pointing at Oma and I shouted, “She’s got it! She’s got it!”  Well, the whole family was very upset with me but in hindsight I think it’s funny.  That was my first dip into revealing a secret and I did it to save my family.  There was conviction behind it.

As I got older, I admit I just couldn’t keep a secret.  Mainly Christmas.   I usualy informed Mother that she was getting diamond earrings or a fur coat seconds before she was about to find out herself, if I had allowed her to finish tearing the wrapping off the box.  My immediate family just ceased in telling me anything at this point. 

Later I developed a fun Christmas time game with my best friend, Aimee.  We would give each other 3-5 obscure clues about the gifts we had gotten each other.  Very obscure.  One clue I might give her is, “That thing that happened to me when we saw The English Patient.”  She might counter with, “the billboard on MLK BLVD in Atlanta but only when the sun hits it at sunset on Wednesdays.”  Well, we never figured the clues out.  They were only to muse over while in traffic or the shower or when your mother is on the phone complaining to you about the  neighbor dogs that poop in her garden. When the presents are exchanged we explain the clues we have given each other and they always make perfect sense but no way either of us would have figured it out.  But so much fun to think about.

The obscure hint game is perfect for me.  I admit I love telling people what I got for them before I give it to them because I love getting special gifts to the ones I love. The hints keep me from blurting.  Aimee keeps me from blurting too.  She will poke her fingers in her ears and start singing to avoid hearing the surprise.  She’s a Christmas Elf, but that’s a whole other post.  This game doesn’t work with my husband.  He can’t just take the hints and stew over them.  He pokes at me to give him more information until I can’t take it anymore and against my better judgement I blurt it out to him.  Whereupon he tells me I just can’t keep a secret.

His birthday is coming up and I bought Van Halen tickets for him.  I know he loves Van Halen but I was hesitant because he didn’t seem certain he wanted to see this concert tour that they offered.  Therefore, when he starts telling me he would like gift cards from folks so he can get a Nikon D80, I think he would probably rather like that than the Van Halen tickets.  I try to tell him without giving up what I got him but he poked and poked until I spilled the beans.  I think I’m doing him a favor by telling him; he tells me I can’t keep a secret. (He’s decided to sell the tickets)

But you know.  I can keep a secret.  Women are quite able to keep secrets when they simply don’t want someone to know something.  I wanted him to know about the tickets so I wasn’t giving anything up.   I think I can keep secrets very well, thank you very much.  I know plenty of things. 

 I admit though, it helps when I forget the secrets I’m to keep.

One last thing, I’m 34.  Voltaire, with all due respect, can floss that.

Horseplay Leads to Tragedy

Husband’s computer chair, key support for IT department for many years, dies at 6 after a torrid, heated, lip-smacking tragedy. Having spent a handful of years supporting IT in the biotech industry, Computer Chair spent it’s last year retired in the second floor office of a townhome. Tending to a few computer issues and tickled by the tails of the house cats, Computer Chair spent it’s last days in peace and quiet (okay, not completely.  I always got it wet when watering the violet).

Computer Chair met it’s fate when Husband and myself were being silly and fooling around.  After much laughing and poking and necking… you get the idea…Computer Chair cracked and said goodbye to the world.  Also injured was Husband, who put his back out in the incident.  But don’t worry, I came out unscathed. Not a scratch on me. My stomach hurts from all the laughing I did but other than that I’m fine. 

 

 Husband’s Computer Chair is survived by my Computer Chair, who after witnessing the event isn’t doing so well.

The family asks that no flowers be sent.  If you wish, donations may be sent to the Humane Society in honor of the friendship Computer Chair made with the house cats, Bebo and Bella.  Computer Chair always enjoyed a tickle here and there from a swipe of their tails or a rub of their whiskers.

There will be no viewing.  Funeral arrangements by J&J Garbage Removal.