December 2008
Pay Attention When Main Guy Turns Upstage... →
Once upon a time, Kate sat on my couch and said, “You know what? Men don’t dance with abandon like they did in the ’80s.” We were watching Dirty Dancing at the time (a film I’ve never seen all the way through) and I’m paraphrasing. The point is! Here you go! Men dancing like they couldn’t mean it more to Beyonce’s Single Ladies. I KNOW. It’s...
This is not a rant, but an impassioned plea: for the first time in history, the big three networks no longer have a full-time reporter assigned to an active US theatre of war. That is more than not okay. It’s pretty disgusting. I am so livid about this that I just used the phrase “if I had a nickel” unironically. Hey. Networks. DO. YOUR. JOB.
Oh! Well, welcome to the world Tripp Easton... →
Bristol Palin’s a mommy. I kind of called it? A little?
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Oh Hells Bells Y'all--I KNEW I Had a Thing For...
I fully recognize that this affinity could be nothing more than my own inner cranky old man, struggling to get out—but! I heart Andy Rooney. And know his canon of literature like it was coming out of my own mouth.
“The picture in the paper is of Kurt Cobain in a pair of ragged jeans with a hole in the knee. I doubt that Kurt Cobain ever prayed or did the kind of work that would have...
No Republican cloth coat, and no winning. So Nixon, 1; Me… “ballsed,” apparently. BUT! I had just beat him at pool—twice. So! Take that, corner pocket, etc.
Oh! Hey, You Know Like Greyhound? But With...
Yeah. Apparently my flight is… on one of those walk out to the runway, climb up the steps, how much do you weigh because we’re going to need to balance this sucker out, kinds of deals. Maybe I got signed up for sky-diving lessons and nobody told me! Is that why they’re strapping me into this parachute?
Who’s U2?
– Yeeeeeah. That one stings a bit. Playing song-for-song with little brother on road trip. Though! Redeemed himself by saying, “Oh! Is that Bono?” See? The kids they is learning.
Micro-Internet Programming?
Mom: (Sitting across from me on laptop) You haven't posted anything new yet today!
Me: (Looking up from own laptop, still in jammies, not yet left house, coffee only thing of minor note to have even happened) Number of visits I've had today? Four. Number than have been YOU? Four. Number of things I've done that you haven't actually seen in 3D? Zero.
Mom: That's no excuse. You could at least say it's Boxing Day.
We never did find out why he wasn’t wearing pants.
– Quote of Christmas dinner. Clearly, no context necessary.
I’ve never Googled myself.
– Post-dinner conversation with the fire boys—the comment rivaled “I check my email every third day” for sentiment that made me closer to swallowing my own tongue. Now teaching (cult-like converting) them all about Twitter.
So family holiday vids commence. I was just delighted not to have to hold the camera, though on take two, little brother/director announced that he’s going to need “less chattering from me.” And the world, of course, agrees.
I Can Only Hope Santa Pays More Attention To Me...
Mom (on phone): I don't know where Zoe is, she's not back from her run yet.
Me (coming downstairs): HELLO? I've been back for half an hour! We had A CONVERSATION.
Mom: Oh. Huh. Well, what did I say?
Is This What They Mean By "Pay to Play?"
Ohhhhh lordy. We are just going to say that the above picture and headline is mere exaggeration in the service of alliteration. We are also going to ignore the fact that parents are currently bribing the power company with hot beverages to restore power. It’s not unethical—it’s neighborly.
Call and let me know what is going on today. It is 27 and still no power. We have...
But! They Aggressively Carded Me and Said Nice...
Liquor Store Guy: Do you want a bag for this? (Large bottle of Christmas cheer.)
Me: Nah. I'll just drink it here in the store.
Every Uphill Has an Equal an Opposite Downhill....
Just got back from hiking with the lovely Miss Beth who maintains, perhaps rightly, that if her plane gets hijacked this afternoon, the soggy effort will have been in vain. However reluctant, no eponymous street sign ever goes without photo op. Rain, nor sleet yo.
OH! Oh. And I'm SO Glad You Asked Re: Pastor Rick...
I know, right? Everyone’s all “Warren backed Prop. 8! So dreadful! Obama? Why have you forsaken us so quickly?” Forgetting, of course, Obama sat at a table with Warren in August and had a cozy little talk about how Obama doesn’t believe in gay marriage either, so hims and Warren! BFFs! There’s a very troubling detail about Obama picking Warren to do the invocation...
My Insanity, In List Format. Fun!
(Hey. Y’all know I’m Gemini/Virgo rising: hence the insanity list.)
Here goes.
Things I Own:
Two collars, one yellow, one red and white polkadots.
One leash. Also red and white polkadots
Two different sets of water/food bowls, cute, also dots.
One pink rope tennis ball chew toy thingy.
A blue puppy bed.
Coconut puppy shampoo and “puppy not so fresh” wipies.
Puppy...
But like, she never calls me when she says she’s going to. It’s so...
– From a DUDE on the train. Hmm. Somehow we, the girl population, don’t feel quite soooo sympathetic. Sorry.
It's In the Rhetorical Canons Somewhere. . ....
I
Last night, in my “love at first sight” outfit. Uh, apparently.
See!? I do remember stuff from Classical Rhetoric, that most notorious of all weed-out classes. The five canons of rhetoric of which “knowing your audience” nestles right in there amongst the “Invention” and “Delivery.”
My audience, as I’ve found in the past two...
I Will Just Say This. . . →
Of this actually very lovely, nice, fun, etc. man. Once, before the big Palin pick, he listened to me wax on my predictions for the GOP VP and when I said I thought Bloomberg would be a good choice he stopped dead, looked at me pointedly and said, “Wait. Do you want McCain to win?” Uh, zing.
Well! You Clearly Don't Know Him the Way I Know...
So Media Matters is trying to say (okay, not trying; did) that Sean Hannity is the “Misinformer of the Year?” Mean! Mr. Hannity and I are quite, quite close. If Media Matters had been following me skulking around the hallways of the Republican Convention, trying to get something, anything that I could post, and saw Mr. Hannity’s brave act of kindness, perhaps they’d…...
And! I Have 12 Percent of a Pull-Up!
Trainer Jay: Do you see that?
Me: What?
Trainer Jay: Look right there.
Me: My knee?
Trainer Jay: No crazy. That very specific kind of muscle thing above your knee that only I can see but that wasn't there before and that makes you a million times more ripped/buff/hardcore in my eyes. See it?
Me: Oh yeah! Kind of.
Trainer Jay: Well it's new. Nice work! Your muscles are "expressing themselves."
Me: See?!? I KNEW they had things to say! I'm a pretty girl!