Oh, hello! Have some pretzels. And beer. Hockey tonight, so I’m getting ready.
I don’t typically watch the news. Mostly because I find it inordinately depressing. Life is hard enough without adding more depressing events. Happy pills can only help so much.
But over the past few days, there have been a couple of very tragic shootings in the south, for which I have tuned in to MSNBC and CNN to hear about details. A couple of weeks ago there was another big story, that MSNBC reported on. The one a few weeks ago, there was supposed to have been a little boy in a balloon that was loose. MSNBC spent several hours reporting on this. It was a hoax. No one interviewed the parents in all that time.
Yesterday there was a horrific shooting in Texas. The first brilliant thing that the talking head on MSNBC said is that “he was a soldier with an Arabic sounding name”. That’s super. Let’s get everyone whipped up into anti-terrorist sentiment without finding out the reason for the problem. Next, he went to Virginia Tech, “which is ironic” – presumably ironic since there was a shooting at Virginia Tech not too long ago. Then he had been shot. Dead. Um, no, he isn’t dead. Stable condition. Today, they are targeting the fact that the “alleged” shooter is Muslim. And “it looks like he decided to go with his religious beliefs”. Really, MSNBC? What part of the Muslim religion espouses this type of violence?
So today, there was a shooting in Florida. “The shooter has been apprehended”. “The shooter is still in the building.” “The shooter escaped the building and is at large.” All of this was reported in a 5 minute time span. Then we switch back to Texas, where we’re told, “We’re going into this 2 minute moment of silence. Let’s go to Fort Hood and listen in.” Listen in? Really? WTF?
What has happened over the past 2 days is horrible. So much violence. So many people dead. And having the media add hate and ignorance to the fire only makes it worse. It fuels hatred and fear and will only instigate additional violence. I can’t handle seeing things like that. I’ll go back to just reading headlines.
I’m back off the news.
Oh, hello! Have some tea and a cookie.
I have been noticing lately that some of the shows on television that I claim to love aren’t doing it for me anymore. And I don’t know why that is.
Is it because the writing has gotten worse, or changed somehow so that it seems worse to me? Has my tolerance for violent cop shops diminished to the point where I have no desire to watch? Have my tastes changed so dramatically over the summer that these shows could go off the air, and I’d be okay with that? What’s really going on here?
Criminal Minds used to be at the top of my list. I loved it when Mandy Patinkin was on it. I think he’s brilliant anyway though. But the stories were good and very thought-provoking, I thought. Sure, there was violence – that’s what crime shows show. But it’s gotten really bad. It’s not on my DVR list any more.
CSI (the original one) doesn’t hold my interest either. And it’s not because Sara and Grissom left. I was THRILLED when they left. And I love Laurence Fishburn. He’s fabulous. I really think that the writing on that show has gotten really bad. And I don’t need the special effects autopsy scenes. That doesn’t add to my enjoyment, even a little. In fact, it makes me gag a little. So come on, CSI writers, bring back the awesome scripts!
NCIS LA is a new one this season. I am an admitted late comer to NCIS anyway, but I like the show. I could do without Gibbs smacking them on the head, and the other two always picking on McGee, but over all, I like the show. I thought it would be cool to see another city. But I just cannot get interested in these characters. I’m not dissing Chris O’Donnell or LL Cool J, but the characters they have been given are NOT engaging, IMO. That’s off the list. (Oh, and if the original NCIS keeps bringing back Mike Franks? That’s off the list too. Don’t like his character, at all.)
Even some of the other new shows. Accidentally on Purpose is new this season. I love Jenna Elfman. I was so excited to see her on TV again. I haven’t stopped recording the show, because I really hope it will get better. It just doesn’t. The story is trite. And the scenarios are annoying and unrealistic, at best. I would be very surprised if this got a second season.
Eastwick is another new one that I had high hopes for. But after this weeks episode, I will very likely be off it’s viewer list. The acting is just SO BAD! I’m sorry Rebecca Rjomin (or whatever). You’re really pretty and all. But acting? Not so much.
That’s enough complaining about TV for now. And I know what you are thinking. If I don’t like it, I don’t have to watch it. But really – how many books can one girl read? I’m on track for 75 +/- this year. Turning off the TV to read isn’t a choice. Yeah, I can blog. I can journal. I could probably even learn to knit, but sometimes, you just need to slip into something mindlessly entertaining. So, it’s the “entertaining” part I’m struggling with.
Oh, hello. Sorry I didn’t have time to cook anything today. I’m sure I have something in the freezer I can reheat. Take a look.
Midterm elections were held yesterday. There were many things of interest throughout the country, but the one I was watching most closely is the question about repealing the recently enacted law that would allow Gays to marry. Yes would repeal, No would keep it on the books.
If we, as a state, won the No vote, we would have been the first state in the country to have this law on the books by the popular vote. Yes would make us just like the 31 other states who have repealed the law.
Do I need to tell you what happened? We, as a state, suck. The Yes vote won. The popular vote is to repeal the law.
Yes won by 32,000 votes. So, granted, the outcome was close, but the closed-minded, homophobic vote won out. Now, just like the other 31 states who have had to deal with this issue, Gays and Lesbians will not be afforded equal rights under the law with regards to marriage.
Fear ads were prevalent. The religious aspect was highly touted. I believe that this is NOT a religious issue. It IS a civil issue. It is a fairness issue. And I also believe that if “God” did not like Gays, “he” wouldn’t have created them.
So, today, I am not proud to be from Maine. I am sad for my gay friends who are once again relegated to the background. I do think it is somewhat encouraging that the vote was so close, so the next time this comes up, the open-minded option should win. Let’s hope this is the case.
My home-state pride will come back. But please don’t blame the ENTIRE state. Many of us were with you.
Oh, hello. Come on in for some salad before the show.
Last week:
Blue team: Won the weigh in. Black team has to send someone home.
Liz -7 (Down 46 so far this season) Won the face off.
Rebecca -9 (Down 56 so far this season) Won the face off.
Tracey -5 (Down 41 so far this season) Won the face off.
Allen -8 (Down 63 so far this season)
Rudy -14 (Down 101 so far this season) Won the face off. Broke Dane’s record. 100 pounds in 7 weeks.
Black team:
Abby -3 (Down 46 so far this season)
Amanda -4 (Down so far this season) (Has the 2 pound advantage)
Danny -12 (Down 85 so far this season) Won the face off. Has immunity for the elimination.
Daniel -5 (Down 40 so far this season)
Shay -9 (Down 74 so far this season)
Abby went home and looks great.
This week: they are going to Washington DC. Oh, and more drama with Crazy.
WTF? Voting results interrupting the show… This sucks.
Joining the show in progress…
They are individuals again? They all go back to their original colors. Pop challenge: they have an hour to go thru DC and recruit people to do a public workout at the Washington Monument. Who ever wins gets an advantage at the Challenge. They are handing out stickers to identify their recruits. The winner team also gets fed at Subway. They are trying to take recruits from each other.
People start gathering. Allen has recruited a bunch of firemen – they come in trucks. (Cool!) Sami introduces the fatties. Everyone is cheering. The crowds are separated by fatty. It came down to 1 vote. Liz v Allen. Liz won. She got the most people there. Now, out come B&J. Bob is talking on the stage. Jill is in the crowd yelling at them. Picking on “total strangers”, she says. It looks like they are having fun. Liz is now taking her group to Subway. (She’s kind of annoying, IMO). Jill is there with them. I’m sure the staff at Subway is probably freaking out – a bus pulled up. (BTDub, if you would like to hear a new perspective on sandwich shops, check out my friend Clay’s blog – he makes me laugh with every post.)
Now they are going to meet members of congress, who are sitting looking suitably somber, as congress members are wont to do. (Okay, there are 2 Senators. HUGE turnout.) Daniel is telling them his story. Jill is nodding somberly. “Better health education in school curriculum”. That’s what they got out of it. (DUH! springs to mind.) Rebecca is telling her story. Tears. Oh, goat. Crazy is having her moment meeting the senators. I wonder if they will lock her up.
Sami meets them at Constitution Garden, looking like a farm-girl with pig tails. Very cute. The challenge has 4 stages. Taking place at 4 of the historic places in the city. The winner of all 4 wins immunity at the weigh in. Liz wins a pass to skip one of the stages since she won the pop-challenge. Stage 1: They have to run 1 mile around the garden. Crazy is having week 1 flashbacks and starts crying. (Of course she does). First 6 finishers go on to the next portion of the challenge. Last 3 are out. And they’re off. Rebecca and Allen are in the lead. Crazy passes Shay at the back of the pack. Shay is walking, but is determined to finish. Showing each fatty with a flashback to week one for comparison. Rebecca finishes first, then Daniel, Allen, Amanda, Rudy, and Liz. Danny is in 7th place. Crazy will be 8th. Shay is last, but is finishing.
Stage 2. They are the Watergate steps in the shadow of the Lincoln Memorial. There are 17 thousand + pennies. They have run down the steps, pick up pennies and run back up to put them in a bank. The first 4 move on. Liz sits out, so only 3 move on. Rudy is using his ginormous hands to his advantage, and is going 2 steps at a time. Rudy is kicking everyone else’s ass, due to his paw size. Daniel is going on to the next stage. It looks like down to Allen and Rebecca. Sami is FREAKING OUT! It’s kinda funny.
Back from the commercial, Sami still freaking out. Rebecca wins the final spot for the next round. Liz, Daniel, Rudy, and Rebecca now playing for immunity. Stage 3: US Capital. Balance challenge. They are going to be standing on a platform, on a narrow ledge, with a Pilates ball over their heads. Final 2 go on to the final stage. Rudy is struggling with his size 15 feet. Liz is wobbly. Daniel is wobbly – and falls off. Rudy is very wobbly. Rebecca is steady. Liz is out. Rebecca and Rudy are fighting for immunity in stage 4.
Stage 4: They are in front of the white house. 206 steps (for the number of contestants on the BL so far) onto a step aerobic step. First one to 206 wins. Rebecca has a slight lead. Now she’s killing it. Both are struggling. Rebecca wins immunity. She’s giddy!!
They all find out that tomorrow they will be going on a tour of the white house. And, with that, Sami leaves. (BTDub – is it gross that I liked the song they played during stage 1? Yes, I know who sings it. DON’T JUDGE ME! *sob*)
One on one time with Bob and Amanda. Must be product placement time. Extra sugar-free gum. And we’re at the white house, and my local channel goes to election coverage. *GAH* But, I suppose, the weigh-in is the most important…
And we’re back. The fatties are at the last chance workout. With singles, the trainers are training everyone again. We just saw Rudy carrying Jill up the stairs. (Pretty funny.) Danny’s gut is hanging out from under his shirt. Jill is focused on Crazy. (heh). BL is about changing your life – inside and out. Crazy is crying. What a shocker. She is now Jill’s biggest fan. Bob is trying to get Shay under 400 this week. Bob and Amanda are flirting bonding. It’s kinda gross. He’s asking her about her meltdown last week. All she wanted to do then was talk to Bob. So now she is. So Bob is having her do what Jillian tried to have her do. And of course she is. That’s a big F-U to Jill, IMO. (BTDub, I hope she makes it to makeover week. I’m sick of that twisty thing she does with the front of her hair. And the black eye-liner.)
This week’s weigh in: (at the Lincoln Memorial) (Cool.)
Rebecca (pink) – 223 -4 to 219. She has immunity.
Liz (brown) – 221 – 3 – 218. (below the yellow line)
Tracey (purple)- 197 – 3 to 194. She’s not happy. (is she ever??)
Allen (green) – 262 – 9 to 253. (safe)
Rudy (blue) – 341 – 9 to 332. (safe)
Amanda (pink) – 214 – 7 to 207 (safe)
Danny (brown) – 345 – 12 to 333. (safe) (97 pounds so far!)
Daniel (orange) – 272 – 11 to 261. (safe)
Shay (orange) – 402 – 9 to 393. YAY. Good for her. (safe)
The choice is between Liz and Crazy to go home. Please goat. Let it be Crazy. They have time to discuss. Shay doesn’t think Liz wants to be there any more. Now we hear from Crazy. Daniel asks her about her game play earlier on. Of course she tells them what they want to hear.
Voting: Amanda: Crazy; Shay: Liz; Danny: Crazy; Daniel: Crazy; Rebecca: Crazy; Allen: NA; Rudy: NA
WOOT!!!! CRAZY IS GOING HOME!!!!!!!! Praise Goat above!!!!! Scared as she shoots the *stinkeye* at the rest.
At home update: On the ranch, she went from 238 to 194. She’s going home on a helicopter. In a really ugly purple dress. Big crowd to meet her. Her husband says she is his soul mate. Read: he’s crazy too. The kids? Yep. Probably crazy. She ran the “original” mile and finished in less than 12 minutes. Now she is at 85 pounds down and is training to run a full marathon in December. I hate to say it, but she looks good.
Next week: 2 people go home.
Oh, hello. Come in and have a glass of port. It’s delightful.
I’m on vacation. Again. I know, right? It seems like I was just on vacation.
Now that the Gas ‘n Stuff is doing PTO, I get the equivalent of 7 weeks off. If we went back to regular vacation time, I would have 4 weeks vacation, 5 sick days, and 10 paid holidays. Same thing. But now I don’t have to take the day off for the random paid holidays like Columbus Day, or Flag Day, or Arbor Day. (Okay, so I didn’t ever really get those last 2 off, but you get my point.) I mean, I understand why we have a Veterans Day, or a Presidents Day or a MLK Day. But short of having any real celebrations, those are just a day to sleep in and do nothing. I would rather do that when I choose, not when someone tells me to.
I didn’t know if I would like this whole PTO thing, but I’ll be honest. It’s pretty good. When I choose to go into work on the “holiday”, usually no one else is there, so it’s kind of like a day off anyway! Win/win.
So what did I do today? I slept in, and snuggled with the twins. Then I read some of my book. Then I napped. (Reading is hard, yo!) Then I took the screen out of my front door and put in the storm glass. It’s officially winter when I do that. (Well, that and the fact that it’s friggin’ dark at 4:30.) Tomorrow, I’ll probably do more of the same.Well, that, and I need to go vote. Big question on the ballot this year is whether or not to repeal gay marriage in the state. Fingers crossed for that one. (And no, I’m not going to tell you which way I’m voting. Again. I’m pretty sure I made that clear before.)
Anyhoo. There really is no point to this post. Other than I get to tell you that I am on vacation. And to avoid humiliating myself further with NaNoWriMo and the fact that I wrote NOTHING towards that today. (Another chance for me to make myself feel like a failure. Good times.)
More wine?
PS: I just stood up and my foot is asleep. I hate that. Now it’s going to be up all night!
Oh, hello! Help yourself to some cheesy-poofs.
So, I just recently found out about this thing called National Novel Writer’s Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. It’s a challenge for would be writers to commit to writing 50,000 words, or a novel of about 175 pages, in 30 days. Quality is not the focus. Quantity is. It’s a way to challenge yourself, and IMO give yourself a kick in the butt to get writing.
My friend K2Kid has often said that she wants to get a book published. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that she is one of the most brilliant people I know. So, when I heard about NaNoWriMo, I sent her a text with a link to the website, and 3 words: I dare you. I would love to see her do this and maybe get published. I mean, let’s be honest, there is some real dreck out there. If that can get published, something smart should be able to, right?
K2Kid signed up. And then challenged me to do it with her. YIKES! Have I ever wanted to be a writer? I don’t know. I mean, look how long it took me to start a friggin’ blog! And now, 50,000 words?? What in goat’s name would I write a novel about? I’m not one of those people who “see” their characters in their minds and know what they will be doing 100 pages in.
But, peer pressure being what it is, I signed up. In the back of my mind, I figure I can always sign up and cheer on K2Kid, along with Debra of Reflecting fame, and Jose of FabergeMonkey fame. I mean, I’ll give it a go for a few days, but quite honestly, 1,500 words in and I’ve already learned that OH MY GOAT I’M BORING!! If I’m boring myself, how in the name of all that is good and holy will anyone else want to read it. No amount of editing will save this.
I’m going to look at this as a great way to challenge myself, and definitely get out of my comfort zone. If nothing else, maybe I can use this as a way to be introspective and find out what’s going on inside. Maybe even find out how my fun got broken. A journaling intensive, if you will. I won’t be disappointed if I don’t make it to the 50,000 words. I know that it was a huge step for me to even sign up. And no matter how far my friends get, I will be there cheering them on for the same accomplishment.
FMI, or if you want to sign up or donate, go to www.nanowrimo.org.
Oh, hello! Lovely salad today. Dressing on the side.
I used to be fun. Honest.
Back in the day, I would get dressed up and go out with my friends. We’d drink, and dance, and laugh, and pick up boys (who wanted to be men.) The night would be considered young at 10pm. Heck, we wouldn’t even leave the house until after 10. That was back when people could still smoke in bars – you’d come home reeking of cigarettes, and need to take a shower. Sleep (or pass out) for a few hours, then start making plans to do it all again.
But, somewhere along the way, my fun got broken. I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to it, and when, but the thought of going out and being jostled in a loud, too crowded bar holds all the appeal of the cats chewing my toes off. Maybe it’s a function of getting older, or the after effects of being betrayed by the above mentioned friends, or the result of acquiring more mature friends, or being more choosy with who I do consider a friend, but my fun seems to be gone. (I know I previously described how I suck at the whole “I wanna be your friend” thing, so I won’t go there.)(Okay, just one thing about that – if someone calls to go to lunch or dinner or whatever, and I am not *completely* sure they are among my handful of friends? I experience something that can only be described as a mild panic attack. Seriously. WTF is wrong with me??)
Now, it seems that “going out” is more around the happy hour time frame. A lovely night is home, with a book. Dinner out? I’d love for it to be done by 8pm. Bed? On a school night, I like nothing more than to be in bed by 9, reading. Weekends? It’s later, but still not the crazy early morning hours of the next day. It’s a very low-key, comfortable existence.
But the more I think about my fun and what happened to it, I realize that what I have really *is* just an existence. Sure, it’s comfortable, it works (sort of), it’s somewhat lonely, but I’m not really *living*. I do have fun when I go out with my true friends. Or when I go to the hockey games with Herb. I really do. But how do I get out of my head, stop over analyzing every word/look/gesture with the ones who haven’t forced their way in. (And let’s face it – they do have to force their way in. And for those that have? Thank goat they did. I cherish them.)
Maybe once I stop expecting the worst from people, or suspecting the worst of myself, I will be able to find the instructions and fix my fun. I just hope that all the years of sweeping it into the corner, and moving it from one apartment to another, from one state to another, and finally to this house, haven’t permanently crushed it. I suspect the pieces have been pretty disintegrated and crushed, but maybe not irreparably harmed. Hopefully, with a little bottle of self-love, a healthy-sized box of kind words, and a final rinse-off of trust, my fun will re-emerge as some shadow of its former self. Maybe then, I will be able to water it daily, play it good music, feed it good food, and have it return stronger than before. To be clear, I have no desire to relive the crazy days of leaving the house at 10pm and driving home (usually drunk. I know. You don’t have to say it. I KNOW!) several hours later. But I do want to not be suspicious of people and their motives. I do want to know that I have something to offer/contribute. I do want to hear myself laugh until my tum hurts.
I miss my fun. I hope it hasn’t given up all hope. After all, I did keep it with me for all this time, despite my neglect. That should count for something, right?
Oh, hello! Just getting the makings together for tacos. They will be up soon.
Yesterday? Sucked ass. Today? Much better.
I have been looking online for new tattoo ideas. I know I shouldn’t be, because I used to have one on my ankle and spent many, many, many dollars trying to get it removed. All it left me with is a 3rd degree burn scar, and some blue ink patches. It’s really pretty in the summer when the weather gets warm, and my scar gets angry and weepy and purple. Remind me to post pictures of it the next time it happens. Good times.
Two years ago at girl camp, I got a new tat. It’s a very proper kitten on my right back/hip. Not in the tramp stamp spot though. She’s very pretty- with green eyes, and pink in her ears. She looks like my twins, too, with the white “blouse” on.
And now I want to get another one. Every time I watch LA Ink, I want to get one. I’m thinking of some sort of Celtic Cross, with a Claddagh, and a word in Gaelic under it, but I can’t find the perfect design, and I don’t know how big, or where. I did see a really pretty one of a Claddagh across the instep, but OMGoat that must have hurt!!
I’ll keep looking. Maybe by the time girl camp rolls around again in April, I will have the right design (and the money) to get it.
Oh, hello! Just tea today. I hope you don’t mind.
I started today with a plan for a post about how I don’t think I know how to have fun anymore, and to be all introspective and stuff. But, the joke was on me.
I woke up with a headache, but didn’t think too much about it, because I wake up EVERY day with a headache. So, you know. Whatever. I’ll get ready and go to work. When I get there, the leg jiggler is there “rocking” out to some random 80s tune on his iPod speakers. Kill me. The headache is getting worse, and that shit isn’t helping.
Once he knows I’m there, he decides to chat. A lot. About nothing. He’s already had 2 Mountain Dews by that time, and so he was on a caffeine buzz. Super. The head is pounding now. Full fledged migraine pulling into the station.
He finally goes away long enough so I can do something before our one-on-one meeting. You see, we have to have a meeting to further discuss what’s going on at the Gas ‘n Stuff. Because, even though we just merged with another company, they now want to feck up our department and move everyone to new jobs and new managers. (The good news: I soon won’t be reporting to the leg jiggler. The bad news: the new manager? unknown. And the job has not been posted yet.) So we’re meeting, and he’s being his usual self – you know the type of manager who asks you if you have questions, but when you do ask, they start in (again) talking all about themselves? Yeah. That’s him. So eventually, he gets around to criticizing my character again. (Not a constructive criticism, either. More of a “Yeah, I don’t care if you are 42 and this is how you’ve been for that long. Could you change everything about yourself? Because it doesn’t match what I think you should be. It has nothing to do with how you do your job – that’s fine. It’s just your personality. Thanks. That would help me out a lot.”) Cue the ugly cry. Super.
That finally ends, I go to my next meeting – on the phone, thankfully. Then I leave to take a migraine pill and nap because I can’t take it any more. I’m home, napping. Thing one is on my tum, thing two is right up against me. All napping. Lovely. The phone rings. It’s a head hunter. (YAY!) He wants my help to find SOMEONE ELSE FOR A POSITION FOR WHICH HE KNOWS I’M NOT QUALIFIED. AYFKM? You don’t have a job for me??? Of course you don’t. That might salvage the day.
So here I sit. The head is a little better. I still have to report to the leg jiggler until they hire someone new – very likely months away. I forgot to take my contacts out for my nap. And a head hunter DOESN’T want to hire me.
I think it’s official. I became Thursday’s bitch. I think I’ll go back to bed.
MagAndMoo's Blog 