A Cat Named Anabel

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-24T15:58:00.003-05:00

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Happy Thanksgiving!!!

I'm feeling better and I'll be back to posting after the holiday. In the meantime I'm wishing all of you and your families a wonderful T Day!

xoxo, Lori

Okay, I'm Out of the Hospital

2009-11-13T15:43:00.004-05:00

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I have nothing clever to say.
I was in the hospital and now I'm out.
It's good to be out.
And now, as they say, I'm out like a light.

see also: hypogammaglobulinemia.

Night-night.

GRB090423, or How Astronomy Gets Me Seriously Spaced Out

2009-11-04T08:35:00.105-05:00

Forget Halloween, forget horror movies and creepy costumes. What really freaked me out this October was GRB090423.

(GRB090423)

For those of you not familiar with GRB090423 (and I'm guessing that's almost all of you), it's the oldest known object in the universe -- and it's not there anymore. It was there 13 billion years ago, but it's not anymore and scientists know that because it's 13 billion light years away, whatever that is (my head hurts).

Sometimes I think part of my trouble grasping astronomy is the result of not being taught much about it. In school the focus was on algebra (you know, 'if John is in a car traveling 412 miles at 61 miles per hour...'). There was geometry too, with its triangles and dodecahedrons that are really only important in life to architects, artists and geometry teachers. I know I took trigonometry, but I don't even remember what that is. There was some of what they called "earth science", but it wasn't much and it tended to focus more on earth than Earth.

In college I wanted to take astronomy but there was just too much physics, chemistry and math involved. They're not my strengths. (I suck at them.)

Besides, in the age of the Hubble telescope, so much more information is out there, with astonishing new findings coming in all the time. Which brings me back to the latest major finding, published in Nature on October 28 -- the discovery of the oldest known object in space.

GRB090423 is 13 billion years old. Thirteen billion years old. Imagine (I can't). And it's actually done exploding, but the last of its dying rays are only just now reaching us even though it isn't there anymore. Yes, it's gone.

(It's the tiny red dot in the center, but if you're following this, you know it's not really there at all)

At this point my head feels like it's going to explode.

When I look at the sun I tend to forget it's just another star among billions and billions of stars (I can't comprehend billions of dollars, let alone billions of stars) and that these stars are joined together in what are called galaxies, and that out of the billions of stars many have planets and thus there are billions of planets besides Earth.

(a few stars)

Ow, it hurts my head to think about it.

When I do think about it (which, mercifully, isn't often) I can't even wrap my mind around the fact that Pluto isn't a planet, as we were brought up to believe. In 2006 scientists announced it's not a planet; it's just a giant ball of ice and rock. Three years later I'm still having trouble letting go of Pluto.

And it's not just "distant" objects that stupify me. I'm blown away by our very own star, the sun, which is quite local considering it's only 93 million miles away from us. (And I thought California was far.)

The star that is our sun is one of approximately 100 billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy (pictured below). Our sun is 4.57 bilion years old, and so it's approximately halfway through its expected lifetime of 10 billion years. In 10 billion years it will be gone, and everything in our solar system with it.

As soon as I'm over the fact that the sun will explode itself out of existence in around five billion years, I remember that that's only if a black hole doesn't come along and swallow it first, swallow the entire Milky Way and everything in it, including us.

A black hole is a huge region of space in which light cannot penetrate (how is that possible) and which has a one-way surface into which things (like entire galaxies) fall but cannot emerge. In other words for a celestial body to encounter a black hole means it will be sucked into it and never get out (how do they know this if the stuff is stuck in the black hole).

(actual black hole)

Understand, I'm not one of those people who doesn't "believe" in astronomy. For me it isn't about belief; that would be like not believing in eyelashes or sparrows. It's real, all right. Science can tell us a lot about the universe, but we only have to look up to know it's there. (Pass the Motrin, please.)

The universe, with its planets and stars and constellations and galaxies and black holes, is most definitely out there, orbiting, exploding, swallowing and in the case of our own personal star, lighting our way, every day.

Welcome to the neighborhood, GRB090423. Oh wait, you're not there anymore.

Musical Monday - What Moves You? Sexy Back

2009-11-02T09:25:00.008-05:00

It's Musical Monday...

(sponsored by Diane)

I am so feeling this song right now.

Justin Timberlake, Sexy Back:

mmmmmmm.

And because inevitably the video above will be disabled, here's a link to the official video.

Halloween: The Difference Between Cats and Dogs

2009-10-30T09:19:00.052-04:00

(note to my fellow computer-challenged friends: you can click on the pictures to enlarge them)

The difference between dogs and cats is always more obvious around Halloween.

Put a costume on most dogs, and they will pose for you.

They'll even sit for group shots:

But put a costume on most cats and they will throw you one of 763 dirty looks in their repertoire...

...and curse you, your children, and your children's children...

...all while struggling mightily to maintain their dignity.

Halloween Treats

2009-10-29T08:13:00.025-04:00

(Warning: Not for the kiddies!)

"The Killer Pumpkin" -- it starts off slow but stick with it!

Now relax for a second with a special game of Tic Tac Toe.

Bizarre Pumpkins, set to the theme from "Halloween":

More to come...

Halloween Approaches..."Chakushin Ari"

2009-10-28T06:35:00.003-04:00

I love horror movies, and the 2004 film "Chakushin Ari," which translates to "One Missed Call," is one of my top three faves. (An American remake was just awful.) There are two sequels; I've seen "Chakushin Ari 2" and it was very, very scary, almost as good as the original.

Here's the trailer for the original, which includes a few seconds of the ringtone which, when characters hear it on their cell phones in the movie, means they will die. Soon. Horribly.

Here's the eerie ringtone by itself:

Once I hear it, I find it very hard to get it out of my mind, this simple tune also known as "Melody of Death." I don't know if it's so scary if you haven't seen the film...but right now I have goosebumps on my arms.

Musical Monday - What Moves You? -- "Haunted Dolls (With Very Creepy Music)"

2009-10-26T00:01:00.040-04:00

Halloween approaches and it's Musical Monday --

-- sponsored by Diane, who has two great blogs, Good Mourning, Glory! and Wouldn't You Like to See Something Strange, a site I love because it features awesomely weird and creepy artwork.

I found this video when I was looking for something else entirely (score!) It's called "Haunted Dolls (With Very Creepy Music)", and it's just what it sounds like. It's set to "Lullabye" from the movie "Rosemary's Baby", it scares me senseless, and I love it!

Because bigger is better with this one, I recommend you double-click on it to watch it on youtube.

The Big Pink Lie

2009-10-23T10:00:00.096-04:00

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. The pink ribbon has become the symbol of Breast Cancer Awareness, and October has become the month of Pink: pink ribbons on people and cereal boxes, yogurt and tee shirts, and pink sneakers, pink lipstick, pink tote bags, and on and on.

The pink ribbon was created in 1991 by Evelyn Lauder (wife of Estee Lauder's Leonard Lauder) and Alexandra Penney, then-editor of Self Magazine. It became an icon very quickly and as every icon does sooner or later, it caught the attention of savvy marketing people. Breast cancer mostly affects women. Most companies market to women.

Enter the corporations. Enter 24-hour cable, e-zines and blogs. And enter greedy scam artists everywhere.

Buy this box of cereal, the company tells us, and we will give ten cents to a breast cancer charity. The fine print says they'll give up to $20,000 and they sell that much on the first day of October, but those special Pinked boxes stay on the shelves and we buy them because the company tells us we're doing something good, when it's really all about increasing their profits.

Send in yogurt lids and we will donate, says the yogurt manufacturer, making us believe there is someone sitting there counting them, but the company won't even say how they handle the lids. Some people theorize they throw them in trash bags and weigh the trash bags. Some think they hire temps or other companies to deal with it. Others think they just throw them out, period. Think of all the envelopes, the plastic lids themselves, the stamps, the trash -- the carbon footprint. And a growing number of people, including women with breast cancer and survivors, are also upset that the very containers the yogurt comes in may contain carcinogenic chemicals. It's so simple and so cynical: Eat our yogurt and help cure breast cancer.

But no, the truth is: Eat their yogurt and you're helping sell their yogurt. Sure they give away money, a set amount, relatively miniscule compared to their profits, and they get to write it off. They would have given it anyway. But the money for the October campaign comes from their advertising budget. Each year they create a sense of urgency about the donation in order to make it seem like you need to eat that yogurt right up until October 31st and send in that lid or they won't meet their goal, but that's not the case.

In the past few years more and more companies have found a way to squeeze even more profit out of Pink, by cutting back on expensive ads and using bloggers to get the message out. 2009 estimates are that the number of women in the blogosphere is anywhere from fifteen to forty million. Companies have learned they can give a hundred thousand bloggers the same cheap giveaways for less than the price of one television commercial. The bloggers get a gift for themselves along with a giveaway that is fun and may increase traffic on their blog, and they get to feel good, sincerely believing they are helping an important cause. But the only thing they're helping to boost is the companies' bottom line.

We are good people (well, most of us, right?) Breast cancer is all around us. We have mothers and children, friends and coworkers who have it or have had it. We fear for ourselves. Pink gets deep into our minds: Buy the lipstick and I can save a life. maybe even my own. Sure, I'll take the lipstick -- and the nail polish, the tee shirt, the sunglasses, the sneakers. It's a perfect way to motivate us to buy buy buy.

And then there are the tons of just plain scams, where no money is ever even donated. October Pink is a come-hither invitation to scam artists. Last week a friend bought me an adorable pink tote bag that supposedly benefits breast cancer research and treatment. I very much doubt it. There are too many people and companies ready to prey on our good hearts or frightened souls. There are too many examples to mention, large and small, so here's just one.

As for the charities, well, some of them spend way too much money getting their money. Charities that once were small have grown and now they spend tons on overhead, on things like marketing themselves.

Increasingly, women are rebelling against the October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month concept and the commercialization of Pink, women like Jeanne Sather, whose web site is theassertivecancerpatient.com and who sports a tee shirt that says F&ck Awareness, Find a Cure. She's part of a growing group, and the media is taking notice in articles such as Newsweek's "Seeing Red in Pink Products: One Woman's Fight Against Breast Cancer Consumerism" and the Boston Globe's "Sick of Pink."

Ironically, at the same time some women are arguing against the pink ribbon mentality, other people are trying to get other diseases to muscle in on Pink's territory. I just learned that the cancer I had has a teal ribbon, my sister's orange, which also signifies (among other things) attention deficit disorder, animal protection awareness and the Ukranian Revolution. Look at this list of ribbons. White for gender violence, black for melanoma, gray for asthma. When everything means something, then nothing means anything.

Ribbons, nail polish, tee shirts, well-being, lipstick, ice cream, flowers, earrings: It's so easy to pick out what's important on the list. We need to keep that in mind when the full force of corporate greed is upon us each October, and spend our time and money accordingly.

(This post is dedicated to my dear friend Annie, who only two days ago found out that for the second time in ten years she is free of breast cancer.)

Hypogammaglobulinemia

2009-10-20T07:57:00.014-04:00

Hypo-gamma-globulin-emia. Hypogammaglobulinemia.

I was born with it. It's a deficiency of immune cells. A total deficiency and I'd be a "bubble girl", but I don't have a total deficiency.

I have some immunogammaglobulin, but not nearly enough.

I wasn't going to do this yet -- I haven't even used my name yet -- but my gut says it's time to come out with it.

So that's why I get sick so much. Viruses, infections, the whole germy smorgasbord. It's not the only thing wrong with my health, but it's definitely the most serious thing. It doesn't define me, but it profoundly affects my life.

I was sick a lot from the time I was a baby, but didn't get my diagnosis until I moved to Boston and a doctor at Harvard Med School tested me for it. One of my doctors here in South Florida re-tested me and of course got the same results.

There is a treatment, a monthly transfusion, and it costs $4000 each time. My insurance doesn't cover it (a few do). I'm totally okay with that. This country has a serious health-care crisis. We can't afford it all. Better to spend the money on researching a less expensive treatment or, for example, on cancer research (and yes, I'm also a cancer survivor, but it had nothing to do with the hypogammaglobulinemia, which gets easier to type each time!). Some of the people closest to me disagree; they think it should be covered. I can see their point, too.

I've been hospitalized with different viruses twice this year (before I started blogging). And last month I had mono -- again. Mono, mono, mono, there's sooooo many kinds. When I was younger they used to call it "the kissing disease" because people thought you got it from kissing. I wish, if that would mean I spend most of my time locking lips!

I buy bucketsful of Purell and Bath & Bodyworks' Midnight Pomegranite foaming hand sanitizer (yum!). I wash my hands after handling anyone and anything, keep them out of my mouth and nose and eyes, and everyone around me tries hard to do that too (they forget -- a lot!). Sometimes I'm weak, sometimes not so much, but I always seem to have enough energy to be snarky ;)

And that's the story --

Oh, wait. p.s.: my name is Lori.

I feel like I just gave a press conference so I should end by saying, "I'll take any questions now."

Musical Monday -- What Moves You? Pink

2009-10-19T09:11:00.021-04:00

It's Musical Monday...

(sponsored by Diane)

...and I'm thinking pink.

October is not just the month of Halloween anymore, it's become the month of breast cancer awareness. And I have a post coming up I hope you will read, about how corporations prey on our kind hearts in October by getting us to buy pink this and pink that with a part of the money supposedly going to breast cancer charities...and it doesn't. The companies make a ton of money and the charities never get a dime. Stay tuned for the post, "The Big Pink Lie", or look into it yourself, but either way be very careful about "buying pink" in October.

Thinking pink also has me thinking Pink. I adore her. She's so talented, so much fun and also so funny. Even though she's a superstar, Pink seems very down-to-earth; you can imagine yourself partying with her (well, I can). Her videos are gems, and she even starred in a horror movie, Catacombs. I've seen it and it's pretty good!

This is one of my favorite Pink songs:

Sick Again

2009-10-18T17:05:00.027-04:00

I'm sick again, sigh.

Musical Mondays -- What Moves You? Linus and Lucy in the Pumpkin Patch

2009-10-12T08:10:00.002-04:00

Monday already. Whew, this week flew! Already time for another

sponsored by Diane and Jori.

Who doesn't love "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown"? (Don't answer that; I don't want to know them.)

Here's an adorable scene with Linus and Lucy, set to the iconic music of Vince Guaraldi.

Things I've Learned So Far This Week

2009-10-08T08:21:00.004-04:00

Never keep a drink on my desk

It's been ten years since the last time I knocked one over, shorting out my keyboard, so I guess I'd gotten overconfident. On Tuesday I went to answer the phone and my elbow knocked over an 18-ounce glass of iced tea. Luckily my keyboard, and most of the stuff on my desk, was spared...

Never try to blow dry a book

...but the book I'm reading -- had almost finished, only around forty pages to go -- was drenched, soaked, sopping. I felt awful; a book is a precious object to me. Swaddling it in Bounty did nothing. So I ran into the bathroom with it, plugged in the T3 Featherweight and yes, tried to blow dry it.

Here's what happens when you blow dry a book: Some of the pages curl up. A book with a perm is not a pretty sight. Other pages just break off, in pieces. Continuing with the perm metaphor, I guess those pages were overprocessed. Half-pages and paragraphs were blowing around and falling. Sentences were fragmenting, particples dangling; it was a mess.

The book has been sitting there ever since, with its curly pages (even after I weighted them down) and missing pieces. Early this morning I picked it back up, to read what I've got left -- well, what's left of it. It's one of those books where the ending is totally obvious, but I'd like to finish it, to close the book on it, so to speak. And why not, when this will be the only time I ever read a book shaped like George Washington's wig with pieces of pages literally blown away.

Never argue with a friend via email

This week a dear friend and I got in an argument via email. She's in New Jersey, I'm in Florida and neither of us has Skype, so we always email. What happened here was a conversation turned into a disagreement that evolved into an argument and escalated into a fight. And most of it was my fault. I was so focused on what we were talking about that I didn't even realize I was hurting her and I was, more and more. She thought she was saying one thing and I thought I was hearing another. This went on for two days, until she took a very powerful shot at me and then her emails stopped.

After a few hours went by and there was still silence, I called her. We talked, our voices raised sometimes but not most of the time, and we listened to each other. I could hear her hurt and it appalled me. I think we both said exactly what was on our minds. Her hurt was palpable, and I was and still am so sorry for it. I apologized and explained and we talked for a long time.

I (we? do you do this too, or have you learned your lesson already?) need to be mindful that emails are black and white; speech evolved in humans as the ideal means of communicating for our species. Emails can be wonderful, they can do so much, but they don't let you hear the catch in your friend's throat as she tries to get you to see how something you said hurt her...and ellipses are no match for a thoughtful pause as you really think about what's just been said, and a smiley face is no match for the sound of the smiling face of a beloved friend.

Musical Monday -- What Moves You? Scarlett Johansson & Pete Yorn's "Relator"

2009-10-05T10:17:00.017-04:00

It's Musical Monday again, sponsored by Diane and Jori

I'm so feeling the love for the newly released CD by my distant cousin Scarlett Johansson and Pete Yorn , "Break Up."

Yes, we're related, Scarlett and I -- third cousins once removed or something. Close enough that my dad and his generation knew her grandmother, great-aunts and mother.

Far enough that we don't seem to share any DNA.

For one thing, she's a twin and no one in my family has ever been a twin. Also, no one in my family is an uber-talented gorgeous actress/singer/sex goddess. My sister played Queen Esther in a play once, and cousin Arlene does an Alfred Hitchcock impression that is very funny for the first thirty seconds, but that's it for our acting talents. And while most of us like to sing, we all suck at it.

Scarlett's musical forays have had very mixed reviews. A lot of people pegged her as just another actress trying to fulfill the stereotypical fantasy of singing -- when they don't have the talent and haven't had the training and haven't put in the hard work.

Not so, in Scarlett's case. She does have vocal training and also theater experience, and she's probably worked her butt off at it because she's known to be a very hard worker. She just hasn't made the best choices to showcase her voice, until now.

I love these two together, and I love the way the music sounds retro and totally fresh at the same time.

This is the first single, and my fave, "Relator":

Random

2009-10-01T10:51:00.003-04:00

If it's true, as one commercial claims, one out of four females misreads her home pregnancy test, then I don't want those one out of four procreating. (For the one out of four, procreating means having babies.)

...

I mainly watch reality shows on teevee, and for the first time ever all of my reality shows are on at one time: Top Chef, Amazing Race, Survivor, Project Runway, Models of the Runway. These are practically the only TV shows I watch, period. Never before have they all aired at once. This means I'm keeping up with the actions and fates of, by my calculations, 92 people, including the...

...woman with the mullet* on Survivor (I can't stand to look at her and am fervently praying her tribe loses a challenge and must shave their heads)

*mullets are my kryptonite

...talented and gorgeous Voltaggio brothers on Top Chef who create dishes like Mike's nitro gazpacho with compressed cucumbers and toast, and Bryan's deconstructed trout with Bearnaise sauce and souffled potatoes

...dull designers doing unimaginative challenges for faux judges on Project Runway (paging Michael Kors! paging Nina! paging New York City!)

...guy with Asperger's on Amazing Race. I have heard so much about this mild form of autism yet never knew anyone with it. He says exactly what's on his mind. He seems incapable of bullshitting. He also complains constantly -- and yet, at least so far, he's fun to watch.

...talking clothes hangers on Models on the Runway who by some bizarre rip in the fabric of time are sometimes more interesting to watch than their designers.

Scary. With 92 contestants co-existing in my brain, no wonder my head feels like it's exploding sometimes; it is.

...

Recently, not far from where I live, a six-foot iguana bit a seven-year-old girl's foot, severing a tendon. She required twenty-three stitches and can no longer wiggle her toes. At the time of the incident the little girl was feeding strawberries to the iguana. A veterinarian was quoted in the paper as saying the iguana probably thought her foot was a strawberry.

I wish I could make this stuff up; if I could, chances are right now I'd be editing the galleys of my twelfth novel. But it's true.

It appears some parents need to be told -- and so I will do it right here, right now -- not to let their kids feed strawberries to six-foot creatures.

I bet this little girl's mother misread her pregnancy test.

Mono Mania

2009-09-22T17:27:00.025-04:00

Keyboard Cat!

I never get sick of this cutie (real name: Fatso) and his twisted owner.

More words that start with MONO:

Monologue:

Monocellular:

Monocyclops:

Monogamous:

Musical Monday -- What Moves You? Heartbreaker

2009-09-13T20:25:00.034-04:00

Another Musical Monday -- What Moves You? sponsored by Diane and Jori.

This week's theme is Heartbreaker.

Sinead O'Connor, "Nothing Compares to You":

My other selection is from the soundtrack of one of my favorite movies, "The Piano", score by Michael Nyman:

In case you're not familiar with the film, the young girl dancing on the beach is "True Blood" star Anna Paquin, who was only eleven when she won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her amazing performance in "The Piano".

Ice Cream and Mono Dreams

2009-09-12T11:12:00.074-04:00

Last night I had that Ben & Jerry's Creme Brulee I've been craving. Okay, I had the whole pint. Each spoonful was yummylicious. I savored it, and now the craving is satisfied. Afterwards, I took a few minutes to appreciate that.

Too often I go from wanting something, to having it, and slide right in to the wanting again. One upside of sickness is I take satisfaction from smaller things.

This morning I had another strange dream. I don't usually remember my dreams, so maybe it's the mono.

I dreamed I was in the Empire State Building...

...working for Pablo Picasso.

He had been commissioned to create a tapestry to hang in a stairwell, going continuously from the top of the building to the bottom. There are 102 stories in the Empire State Building The thing was enormous.

This tapestry, it was not in the style of Picasso.

It was in the primitive style of 16,000-year-old cave paintings found in Lascaux, France.

I was helping Picasso unroll and hang the tapestry in the stairwell. I was not good at the job. When we were unrolling, I kept tripping. When we were hanging, I kept dropping my end. (No doubt that's how it would have gone in real life, too.)

Picasso was getting pissy with me, yelling at me in Spanish.

This was the whole dream: unrolling, hanging, Picasso getting more and more pissy with me, until I woke up.

I'm guessing the Empire State Building came into it because yesterday was 9/11 and I had New York and tall buildings in my thoughts. As for Picasso and the cave paintings, I have no idea. I'm aware of them, I studied them a little in college and I've been to a Picasso exhibition, but that was years ago and they don't normally cross my mind. So fascinating that this stuff recycles seemingly at random.

A bed made of waffle cone, Ben & Jerry, Pablo Picasso and cave paintings. This is fun, remembering my dreams.

Mono

2009-09-10T11:39:00.013-04:00

So I have a form of mono.

It's hard to stay awake!

Luckily I've had some interesting dreams, like the one in which my bedroom was made of Ben & Jerry's: The bed frame was fashioned from waffle cone, the mattress was Creme Brulee, I had a Cherry Garcia lamp and a Cookie Dough closet. I woke up with the sheet in my mouth. I tried to go back to sleep and get back in that dream but it didn't work! (That never works for me.) I've been craving B & J's Creme Brulee ever since.

Words that start with MONO:

Monochrome:

Monolith:

Monotreme:

Mononucleo -- zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Musical Monday -- What Moves You? DanceDanceDance! Ca Plane Pour Moi

2009-09-07T11:13:00.034-04:00

Labor Day Monday, and I'm still quite ill.
:complain complain complain:
Okay, got that off my chest!

I didn't want to miss Diane and Jori's Musical Monday, especially since this week's theme is songs you love to dance to.

The song is a classic from 1977, "Ca Plane Pour Moi" by Plastic Bertrand, a Belgian artist. Sorry there's no video but this was the best version I found, soundwise.

My body is weak, but it's worth it: I'm surely gonna pay for all this danci -- zzzzzzzzz.

Hurl Shiver Hurl

2009-09-04T13:42:00.019-04:00

Hi! I'm not feeling very well.

I hope to post again soon and in the meantime, please enjoy the videos.

"Mom, Mommy, Mama, etc.", a short clip from Family Guy

Maru and the Box

"I Love to Singa" -- this adorable cartoon is from 1936

Sex On the Floor of Coatrooms at Weddings: The Silent Epidemic

2009-08-28T16:17:00.017-04:00

You know the question; it comes up with friends, in the drunk of Saturday night and over Friday lunches: “What’s the weirdest place you've ever had sex?”

I’ve always had an answer, but last night changed all that.

The year was 1982, the place was my college roommate's wedding, I was a bridesmaid and I thought the groomsman I was paired with was super hot. I’d met him a few times before he moved to California and it was one of those attractions where you can’t even think straight because your netherparts are screaming so loudly. Word came down from The Bride and Groom that he was looking forward to seeing me too. Yum.

He started talking dirty to me in the church!, very quietly in my ear while we were lined up waiting to go down the aisle. Naughty! Mmmmm.

And then we took the limos to the reception. We ate, we danced, we drank and drank some more and we ended up in the coatroom, specifically on the floor of the coatroom.

Why was there even a coatroom? Who brings coats to weddings in the spring? Who knows? But there was, and they did, and so we settled ourselves on the floor, where we had a very good time, for drunken-coatroom-floor-sex.

So since 1982 my response to “What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?” has been, “On the coatroom floor at my college roommate’s wedding.” And that has elicited oohs and aahs and giggles and tell-me-mores, and gawd knows I’ve enjoyed the memory…

Until last night.

I’m reading an awesomely clever novel called "How I Became a Famous Novelist" by Steve Hely, a former editor of the Harvard Lampoon and former writer for David Letterman and “American Dad.”

It’s laugh-out-loud funny. It’s laugh-till-you-pee-a-little funny.

Last night I snuggled up with it, comfy and cozy -- until I hit page 28, and sat up like I had been shot out of a cannon. It was there I read the narrator's description of what a drag it would be to go to his best friend’s upcoming wedding and compete with the groom’s hot Australian buddies for available ladies:

“Worst of all, Polly's wedding would be filled with Australians. Men who forked snakes in the sun-baked desert, and popped the eyes out of dingos with old ANZAC rifles, and surfed between gaping shark mouths...The desperate women, bridesmaids especially, would swoon over these marsupials, and wedding-weakened ladies would be treated to vigorous matings on the coatroom floor.”

Say what?

I was a bridesmaid. It's true I was not desperate and he was no marsupial (rather, a physicist), but I did swoon and yes, the mating was fairly vigorous.

I’ve asked around and there are no apparent connections between Steve Hely and anybody anyone I know knows. So how the heck does he know what went down with who at J. and D.’s wedding in 1982?

I want to think that each person who knew the story of M.B. and me coupling on the coatroom floor told ten other people, who told ten other people, and so on and so on so that for over twenty years the people at Urban Legends have been trying to locate us, the man and woman who had sex at their friends’ wedding, on the coatroom floor.

But I have to face facts.

It turns out my weirdest-place-to-have-sex just isn’t that weird. Apparently at wedding venues all over America the coatroom floors are marinating in body fluids.

And so I guess next time the question comes up – and it will -- I’m gonna mumble something about having to go to the bathroom -- because gawd knows my sex-in-the-bathroom story won’t cut it.

Question of the Day

2009-08-26T10:32:00.001-04:00

If a tree fell on my blog, would it make a sound?

Musical Monday -- What Moves You? Dreamin

2009-08-24T08:41:00.020-04:00

brought to you by Diane and Jori

I've loved this song since its release in 1979.
When this video was taken at a Blondie concert in Oslo last year, Debbie Harry was sixty-three. Right now Blondie is still touring, as well as working on a new CD.
I'm sooooo glad Debbie Harry and the band have still got it -- and that I'm still moving to it.

(In December, Mattel is coming out with a limited-edition Debbie Harry Barbie doll.)

A Shot of Sappy: Puppy With a Heart

2009-08-22T09:06:00.043-04:00

I love this!

Maybe you're familiar with Heart-kun*, the long-haired chihuahua born to a Japanese breeder in May 2007 with a perfect heart-shape on his back. And now Heart-kun's mom has given birth to a second puppy with a heart.

Welcome, Love-kun, born on August 3rd.

I've about injured my finger from trying to push it through the screen to nuzzle the little cutiepie. A shot of sappy can be a lovely thing every so often.

*For a slightly less sentimental way of looking at Heart-kun there's FUP, one of my favorite web sites. I moved the link to the bottom of this post because I just learned the eff words are not for everyone. Okay, you've been warned. If you've never been there before, prepare to laugh your -- well, just click here.

p.s. A very grateful shout-out to Unknown Mami and Jori for giving me instructions on how to embed a video -- written so well, even I could understand them! Ladies, thank you so much!

Musical Monday - What Moves You? Song for the Missing

2009-08-17T09:48:00.071-04:00

If you've been reading my blog at all, you know I'm a technophobe and a computer idiot.

Which explains why I signed into Diane's Musical Mondays meme before I posted the video, mistakenly assuming that embedding a video is as easy as posting a link.

Hah! Never underestimate my computer idiocy!

I love Diane's blog Good Mourning Glory -- it's full of heartfelt commentary and all sorts of fun things you don't see anywhere else -- and so it's tough for me to mess up her and her friend Jori's Musical Mondays meme this way.

But I can't make this happen and I've been trying for too long. (Don't you hate that? When you know you should have given up an hour ago but you just think: I'll try this one more thing...and one more thing turns into another and another and an hour later you're no closer to success, but your frustration level has tripled!)

So I'm cutting my losses and settling for a link. I shouldn't even say "settle" because for me it's a big deal: When this blog was born I spent about a day and a half figuring out how to create links.

Anyway:

The song is one I've been hearing in my head a lot these days. It's the late Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's soulful, utterly original version of "Over the Rainbow", usually known as "the ukele version". It's been used in many commercials and movies and television shows, so chances are you've heard it. I had.

But I never gave it much thought until lately. I'm reading a book by one of my favorite writers, Stewart O'Nan, called "Songs for the Missing." It's a novel that reads more like nonfiction, about everyone's worst nightmare: A child just disappears one day. No trace of her, no clues, nothing; 17-year-old Kim vanishes, and it's clear she didn't run away. The book lays out every agonizing step the family goes through, from giving the police her toothbrush for the DNA to having to pull themselves together to do tv interviews at the lowest point in their lives to going along on searches for her body in rivers and fields to things you can't imagine and that's a good thing. It's a very tough read.

The title refers to the parents having to choose a song for the web site dedicated to Kim, and also to the thousands of songs on the thousands of web sites for the thousands of missing children. In what I think is a brilliant choice by author O'Nan, this family selects Iz's achingly beautiful version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

Here is the link to the song.

Seeing the video made me want to know more about Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. I learned he was known as Hawaii's Gentle Giant and Hawaii's Buddha. That he weighed over 700 pounds, at one point nearly 800. That he married his high school sweetheart and he had a daughter. And that he died of weight-related complications at 38.

There never was an actual music video for it; there are a bunch of videos and they're all tributes. And almost all of them end the same way. My gawd, I thought, looking at it the first time...the footage at the end, in the ocean, those look like ashes being scattered.

And they are. Those are Iz's ashes being scattered by his wife and daughter. Family and close friends are on the boat and all those people in the water, young and old, quite a crowd, have gathered in the ocean to honor him. It says so much about how he moved people that this is part of a music video.

Wow.

Great music and literature have such power -- so much so that the sad fate of the girl in the book and her family is linked now, in my mind, to the true story of that beautiful man whose light went out so soon but who lives forever on youtube, singing a song for all of our missing while he, himself, is being missed.

Here's another link to the video with apologies to Diane if I messed up your meme!

A Story Starring A Cat Named Anabel: Anabel vs. the Evil Brother-in-Law

2009-08-12T11:22:00.058-04:00

Once upon a time, I had a cat named Anabel. She was an uncommon common housecat, a calico tortoiseshell who weighed just over seven pounds full-grown.

Little Anabel was a genius. She was smarter than most people I know! And brains were not her only asset. This cat was an amazing judge of character. With a few short sniffs and a sideways stare, Anabel could size up any human with astonishing accuracy. She was never wrong.

Once upon a time I also had an Evil Brother-in-Law. He was a lawyer -- and not the good kind -- and he was Mayor of the city. Truly he was the embodiment of the worst stereotypes of a politician: caring little about the people he supposedly served, obsessed with power and money and finding ways to use that power to get even more power and money. He was not a nice man. (He is still not a nice man, but thankfully, he’s not my brother-in-law anymore.)

It came to pass, one dark day, we found ourselves temporarily staying with my Evil Brother-in-Law -- because sometimes life sucketh. He didn't want to take us in but there was family pressure and so he had to, and creep that he was, he didn’t make our hard times any easier. We had to be so careful around him. Make a tiny noise and a tirade could ensue. Break any one of his many ridiculous rules and suffer the consequences.

Anabel had his number in no time.

And so, the very first morning after our arrival, she bypassed the litter box, stole silently into the master bedroom, opened up the French doors to his closet and shit in his shoes. Yes, she shit in his shoes, and not just in any pair, but the very expensive pair he wore to work!

Though upstairs and on the other side of the house, I heard his screaming. Oh boy, was he angry. It was a challenge to conceal my admiration at her perfect little turdlets nestled in each of his insoles.

I looked away and at his socks and had to stifle a laughing fit, because those gold-toe socks were covered in Anabel’s lunch and dinner from the day before. And with each angry step he took, the Evil Brother-in-Law was marking his thick, rich carpet with digested cat food.

The next morning it was the same, and the next, and the next. Always the good work shoes. And just the way he rotated his good work shoes, Anabel would rotate soiling his good work shoes. We knew Evil Brother-in-Law wanted to throw us out in the street, but that he couldn't because if the press found out it wouldn't look good, and because of the family, in that order. And so he was stuck.

On the weekend a carpenter showed up, and put a latch lock on Evil’s closet.

But he latch was no match for the cat named Anabel. She was thin but she was tall, and she knew how to use her body better than ___________ (your analogy here). She could open the door, she could open the latch, she could open the closet, and that's just what she did. And the next few days continued in this way, with Anabel shitting in his shoes, never in his slippers, never in his sneakers, never spilling on the laces, leaving a perfect present for him every time.

And so Evil Brother-in-Law had the carpenter come back and put a deadbolt three-quarters of the way up the master bedroom door and just to be sure, another on his closet. Part of me was sad, but the part that prefers a roof over her head was relieved because I surely thought this would confound the kitty.

Oh, but I was wrong! Dear little Anabel would not be bullied by my Bastardly Brother-in-Law, nor defeated by his devices.

That night when the Evil one came home, when he walked through the garage door into the laundry room, there was a great commotion. He was screaming, he was cursing, he was yelling my name – and Anabel’s. I rushed down the stairs and beheld the Evil Brother-in-Law and his foul footprints.

Anabel had made a brilliant adjustment: She had targeted his entrance. Deprived of the shoes in his closet, she had deposited her little eff-you-bombs on the exact spot where he took his first steps into the house.

The bottoms of his shoes were covered in Anabel's shit and he was trying, unsuccessfully, not to slip. When soon he did slide forward and fall, bits of Anabel shit landing on his suit, his briefcase, his hands and his head, I could contain myself no longer; I burst out laughing.

I was still laughing as I packed our bags that night, and I am still laughing years later.

She was some cat, that Anabel.

Book Review: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane

2009-08-09T10:58:00.049-04:00

I never planned to write a book review, but I just read such a terrific book I want to share it with you. It’s called The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, written by Katherine Howe.

From a very young age, the Salem witch trials fascinated me. As a kid I checked out every book our local library had on the subject, reading them through, sometimes twice. This continued into adulthood and I even spent some time in Salem. (Best place to party on Halloween, but I digress). So naturally I was all over The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane when it came out. This is a novel about the Salem witchcraft trials and so much more, written by a woman with a doctorate in Colonial history who also happens to be a descendant of two women accused of, and tried for, witchcraft in 1690s Salem.

In the 1690s, the book focuses on Deliverance Dane, a fictionalized member of the Colonial settlement in Salem, a "cunning woman" or healer, called out as a witch by a man whose child she could not save. We follow her through her arrest and trial, get to know her daughter, Mercy, and see the effect on her life of having a mother considered a witch, and the effect on her descendants. We meet, in Salem Town, actual accusers, accused, judges, townspeople, all of them behaving with historical accuracy but at the same time richly imagined by the author.

In the 1990s we have heroine Connie, who at the start of the book sits her orals in Colonial American History at Harvard. Connie has been asked by her mother to devote part of her summer to cleaning up mom’s childhood, Colonial-era home in Marblehead, Massachusetts -- original location of Salem Village -- a home in utter disrepair that is to be sold to pay off back taxes. And so Connie moves into this antique house with no electricity or telephone, overgrown with plants, full of strange bottles and jars and, one day, eerie symbols that appear on the door as if by magic.

Naturally Connie is drawn to the bookshelves. While she is flipping through an old Bible, out falls a key that contains a slip of paper with the name Deliverance Dane. Fascinated by this name she's never heard before, Connie decides to research the life of Deliverance, hoping to get material for her Ph.D. She gets that and much more as the book moves between Colonial America and modern times, between the trials of life in Colonial Salem and the challenges of research in the ivied halls of Harvard. Thrown into this literary brew, too, is the new boyfriend Connie meets in Marblehead, whose craft is refinishing Colonial steeples.

It's not perfect: The modern-day characters, Connie included, are one-dimensional, because Howe doesn't tell us much about them that isn't directly related to the plot; the bad guy is telegraphed too soon; the writing can be stiff, like a term paper, and at other times downright goofy, like when Howe attempts to convey Boston accents. But the story serves well enough, especially since the book benefits brilliantly from Howe's knowledge as a real-life Colonial-era historian. It's a page-turner because the material is so compelling, woven as it is from beautifully rich detail which makes the tale so spell-binding (pun intended). No doubt there will be a movie, and it may be great as a film, but it will never do justice to the intricacies of the book.

There are things that will break your heart, like the descriptions of Dorcas Good, accused of witchcraft, chained to the wall in a filthy jail cell and only four years old, and of the women on the hanging platform being fitted with nooses as townspeople jeer and throw rotten cabbages at them. Here and there lies fascinating and fun info, like learning exactly how witches were said to ride their brooms and what part of a woman's body Colonial people may have considered the "witch's teat." The present-day story has its own fascinations and parallels, but it's more difficult to discuss without giving things away. Be warned: Many reviews of this wonderful book contain spoilers.

I loved reading The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane , had a hard time putting it down, hated to turn the last page and close the book on this utterly fascinating story of the Salem persecutions told with genuine historical accuracy and blended with a modern tale encompassing everything from romance to the restoration of an antique home to the quirky character of modern-day Salem, where the graves of those hanged are a short walk away from cheesy tourist traps and stores selling Wiccan wares. Salem: A place I have spent time and thought I knew well now and in its past, until I read this remarkable book.

p.s. If you're interested in learning more, click on Deliverance Dane in the witch-it at right and you'll be transported to the book's web site.

next up...

2009-08-07T11:47:00.001-04:00

Something different.
Very different.
Very, very different.
Very --
or not.

Ridiculous Reviews: Sunglasses

2009-08-02T17:35:00.031-04:00

I don’t want to be repetitive.
On the other hand, I don’t feel like writing yet, either. Not writing writing, anyway. (Any day now.)
So here’s a summer-themed Ridiculous Review…with a twist.
I have captioned a few of them, and I would love it if you would pick one or several and use the comment section to write your own captions. How fun would that be! So take off your dark glasses, you know, the ones that squish your eyelashes, and enjoy...

"Too flashy. They remind me of Elvis on stage in Vegas. However, they block out the sun."
Elvis might have too, had he lived to gain more weight…

"I think I look clownish but I am keeping them since they are a different look for me."

"I wore them for two weeks and they started falling apart. I wish they could fix this problem as they are my all-time favorite sunglasses."

"I cannot believe some of the bad ratings I am seeing! I bought four pair and love them. I feel sorry for those people who let their kids and husbands laugh at them and decide what they wear. There is a reason that fashion mags have chosen these as the must-have pair this summer."
And I feel sorry for people who let fashion mags decide what they wear…

"These glasses are so comfortable I hate to take them off when I come indoors."

“They squished my eyelashes.”

“They looked great in the store but upon wearing them they made my eyes tingle.”

”They dug into my skull.”

“When you have them on you can’t wipe the hair out of your eyes.”

"I bought three because I thought they would break easily and they didn't disappoint."

"Because of the price I have no problem treating them poorly."
Let’s hope you never take advantage of the two-cats-for-$60 special from the shelter…

“I was standing in a crowd and someone bumped into me and one lens fell out!”

"You get what you pay for. I mean, the fact that you pay more for delivery than for the product says something."

"Loved them in the store but hated them driving home. It's very misleading. They really should have an outside area set up in the middle of the store."

“I didn’t like them and had decided to return them when my puppy got a hold of them. Well, at least he enjoyed them!”

“They don’t block out the sun as well as I hoped but I get a lot of compliments on them.”

"They work really great outdoors."

"These glasses are great for shopping at flea markets."

"I bought them in white but they did not block out the sun so then I tried the gold but they didn't either."

“I was so mad at them I threw them out the driver's-side window!”

“You can stare at the sun for the longest time!”

“Score!”

next up...

2009-07-31T07:55:00.012-04:00

(that is, if I haven't gouged my eyes out from persistent, prescription-resistent pinkeye)

I stay in the accessory aisle for Ridiculous Reviews: Sunglasses...

...with selected Captions! some of them written by You! Oh, it will be so much fun! (:wiping crud out of eyes:)

Ridiculous Reviews: Watches

2009-07-28T10:56:00.010-04:00

I love watches; I have a small collection of them, and if I wasn't a technophobe, I could show you pictures.

Some of my favorites you won't see pictures of include the watch called a "Biological Clock", on which the hours are encased in ova and in between them swim sperm. There's my be-bop watch, with a clarinet on its face and oversized "jazz hands." And there’s the one I wear every Halloween, with its creepy, fog-shrouded castle, The hands are bats, and when it turns 12:00, a ghost comes flying out of a turret. I love them all, including my everyday watch.

A watch says something about you. I've always known you can learn something about a stranger from looking at his or her watch. What I didn’t know until recently is that you can also learn something about a stranger from reading what they have to say about their watch. In some cases, it’s definitely TMI.

"I have only worn it for two weeks and already the face is all scratched. It's still very pretty to look at though."

"This watch is perfect for a very busy person."

"I'm a conservative dude but when it comes to watches I really let loose!"

"Guys, this watch is your way out of the doghouse."

"The band is real leather. Bye-bye sticky plastic!"

"I do not like this watch because it is not done in the styles of today."

"The glittery faux croc part looks kind of cheap."

"The band pinches my arm hairs so I don't wear it as often as I'd like to."

"Perfect if you're looking for a big face. Haha, that sounds funny!"

“The face is so big even Flavor Flav wouldn't wear it."

"The watch is confused. The face is feminine but the band is masculine."

"I find the band emasculating."

“The goldtone looks fake.”

“For $39 I expect a lot more from a watch.”

“Three weeks and not a single compliment! This one is going back!”

“I really love this watch but after reading all of the poor reviews, I am returning it.”

“The tortoise shell face is nowhere near nice enough to justify taking it from the poor tortoise.”

“A perfect watch for lunch.”

in which I am thwarted by disease...

2009-07-28T10:46:00.011-04:00

I had written a litle piece; I was happy with it. It was meant to touch your hearts and not your funnybones, and I think it would have drawn a tear or two. And then pinkeye came to call on me.
Pinkeye.
And now nothing I compose looks good enough through the crud in these green -- er, pink --eyes.
So I'm going with the Ridiculous Reviews I was saving for next week. You're probably better off, really, since -- Oh, I have to wipe my eyes again. Damn you, discharge!

next up...

2009-07-25T19:11:00.000-04:00

I actually blog.

Ridiculous Reviews: Restaurants

2009-07-22T09:05:00.016-04:00

Someone asked me if I make these up. The answer is no, I could never. Who reviews a restaurant and talks about the door? Who uses the words "shrimp" and "respect" in the same sentence? Who goes on and on about the line that goes on and on? The people who wrote the following reviews, that's who. Me, I just read them and when my panties are pee-soaked, I know my work is done.

"If you don't eat pork you better not order the barbecued pork."

"The food does not compare to the prices."

"We chose to dine outside. There was some stuff dropping from the trees but not enough to ruin the meal."

"Sadly this restaurant has gone to pots."

"I'm very disappointed that they changed the menu but I guess after fifty years change had to happen."

"I especially love the revolving door."

"The chef is particularly skilled with acid."

"I think the line is so long because tourists see other people in line so they get in line and then people see them in line and they get in line and so the line just keeps getting longer."

"The bathroom is convenient!"

"Clearly the kitchen has no respect for shrimp."

"I have eaten there a number of times and have yet to have a good meal."

"Once the food came I was glad I have filled up on bread."

"We won't go back for a long time because the staff commented that my husband ate too slowly."

“We will not be returning as a man at the next table kept bumping into my spouse.”

"I enjoyed the huge amounts of meat, but not the meat itself."

"The waiter was ruder than necessary."

“The steak was very fatty. When I brought it to the waiter’s attention he said, ‘Hey, that’s my wife’s favorite part.’”

"Everything about the food screams eat me."

next up...

2009-07-20T17:05:00.004-04:00

Ridiculous Reviews: Restaurants

here's a taste --

"If you don't like pork you better not order the barbecued pork."

Ridiculous Reviews: Frying Pans

2009-07-15T10:15:00.021-04:00

I got the idea for this while making an omelet. People get so passionate about their reviews, I thought, what will they say about a simple frying pan? And now I know. And now I wish I didn't know, because how else would I have learned there's a child out there somewhere playing with one.

"I know why it was so cheap, everything I cook in it burns."

"I always loved to cook and this pan has taken all the enjoyment out of it for me."

"Excellent pan for thankless tasks like cooking eggs."

"I love it! How did I ever cook without it?"

"I find it burns things when the heat is turned up too high."

"It was tough to clean until I poured boiling water all over it and then everything came off quite easily."

"I got this frying pan as a gift and it is too small for me to use so I gave it to my grandson to play with."

"Good pan. I'm sure there are better ones out there but I'm no chef."

"Whatever you cook in it you get stains. When you make ground beef you get ground beef stains. When you make tea the tea bags stain."

"I love this pan because you can cook various foods in it."

"This is a very good pan because my wife complains constantly about her pans and she never complains about this one."

"Excellent for preparing a meal for four to six people. Although I suppose you could make for less people and have leftovers."

"The handle is good for lifting the pan up."

"Wow! Now matter how bad you burn the food it slides right out!"

"The only negative is I had to rearrange my cabinet to get it to fit."

"I recommend this frying pan only be used once or twice a week.”

"Just the right size for a single person but I have a family so I should have bought a larger one."

"I can't believe I have lived so long without it!"

"After having this pan for a year I realized it's the worst pan ever."

"I really should learn to read reviews before I buy things."

Ridiculous Reviews: Hotels

2009-07-10T07:19:00.011-04:00

A Cat Named Anabel will be two weeks old tomorrow, and she's taking shape!
So far she wants me to focus on amusing morsels written by others (but at times she lets me get serious). I’m enjoying the research, hopping around on the web, reading tidbits people have left so earnestly for the benefit of total strangers. Today I bring you the words of some good souls who stayed in strange hotels -- and some strange souls who stayed in good hotels.

"This hotel is quiet because it is not next to a freeway."

"I've spent many fun evenings on the rooftop but I've never been a guest before."

"Every time I walked in I had to listen to the doorman and bellman speaking about their personal lives. One is having problems with his wife and the other had chicken soup for lunch."

"They allow dogs in some of the rooms and they were extremely clean."

"When I asked for a room like the one on their web site, I was told it was already taken."

"They have a terrible bed bug problem. I have painful, itchy bites on every part of my body. However, I would like to emphasize that this hotel was very, very clean."

"The guy at the front desk was like Madonna trying to fake a British accent."

"The only thing that was bad was the drive there. There is this very big chemical plant that emits awful odors. Luckily we did not smell that anywhere near the hotel."

"The sign on the hotel is small so be sure to print out directions in advance."

"It’s a very fancy hotel but it is not really for kids as there is no playground."

"The rooms remind me of my grandmother's condo in Boca."

"Upon arrival we took showers and noticed black hair all over the tub. We're blonde."

"I have never felt quite so threatened as when we entered the lobby dressed in sweatsuits."

"Driving up the hotel looked great. This was the only positive from our stay."

Wednesday: Nommies and Vommies

2009-07-08T09:52:00.025-04:00

This week's Nommie goes to Wolf Blitzer of CNN. Believe me, I never expected to give this guy a Nommie! I'm not that big a fan, to be honest. I'd much rather watch Andersoon Cooper or better still, reruns of Malcolm in the Middle.

But yesterday I put on CNN and found this very well-respected veteran -- whose career in the field was spent covering wars and spies, the military and political shakeups -- anchoring coverage of the Michael Jackson Memorial. The poor guy was so out of place. They must have made him do it, though I can't imagine why. But he soldiered on like the trouper he is, quickly correcting himself when he mistakenly referred to him as Michael Jordan, speaking so earnestly about Paris-Michael and Prince Michael I and Prince Michael II known as Blanket, Tito and Marlon, LaToya and Usher, trying to act as if he thought it all mattered in the way, say, the Gulf War did. Great job, Wolf! But I hope next time some freakazoid pedophiliac anesthesia-addicted international pop icon dies and the memorial goes on for hours and hours, CNN gives you the day off, sir; you have earned it.

A very angry Vommie to Charles Darnell and Jaren Hare, whose two-year-old daughter Shaiunna was killed in her crib last week by their eight-and-a-half foot pet Burmese python. The snake was in a simple terrarium with a glass lid on top. It had no trouble exiting there and slithering into the little girl's room, where it crawled into her crib, bit her on the head and strangled her to death. The father, in his 911 call reporting the child's death, referred to the snake as "stupid." No, it's not the snake, Charles Darnell. And if I ran the world, you and the equally vomitorious baby mama would be doing your grieving in prison...with Burmese pythons as your cellmates...

...and a related Vommie to the looneytunes that run the State of Florida, where it is legal for these two losers and thousands more like them to own dangerous, wild animals as pets. Charles and Jaren's snake was removed from their home because they didn't have a permit for it. Seems to me they should need the permit to have the child, not the snake.

Ridiculous Reviews: Shower Gel

2009-07-04T08:30:00.026-04:00

Product ratings are an area, like message boards (see my favorite post, Ridiculous Message Board Postings: Michael Jackson Mourned), where time spent mining them can pay off in gems. These posters are rating a premium brand of scented shower gels.

"I purchased these gels as Birthday gifts for my sister and 2 daughter-in-laws I received positive responses from 2 of the giftees. They loved them and thought they were so fun. My sister never said a word, but then, she is pretty ungrateful."

“In my opinion it smells like a damp basement. Again that is my opinion.”

"I love the smell, and my skin feels good after I use it. The problem is that I am losing half of the product as I put it on my body. To me, that is a waste of money.”

“This one reminds me of when you eat a piece of wedding cake and it leaves a stale after-taste in your mouth because it's been sitting out all day. However, it lathers nice and feels great on the skin."

“The scent, if there is one, is not nice to me.”

“It actually smells bad. The scent was not appealing and toward the end of the bottle it almost stunk. I will NEVER buy this product again and wished I would have sent it back after I got it but I continued to use it thinking the smell would get better and it only got worse.”

“This smelled just terrible to me. I tried it a few times and found myself washing my skin off to get the smell off of me."

“I smell some chemicals from the shower gel. Well, usually any shower gel contains a lot of chemicals for lathering, foaming, and gel-texturing so maybe that is why.”

“Dislike the fragrance intensely- it smells like someone's granny on the way to church.”

Wednesday: Nommies and Vommies

2009-07-01T08:50:00.036-04:00

Lately I've been looking at a lot of blogs (and omigawd, there are a lot of blogs!) to get ideas, and I noticed many successful ones have themes on certain days, like "Gardening Tip Tuesdays", "Crafting Thursdays" and "Family Photo Fridays. Great thinking! Keep people coming back week after week! I'd be thrilled if my ten or twelve readers came back every single week!

So (:tada:) welcome to the inaugural Wednesday Nommies and Vommies.

The first Nommie goes to freekibble.com.

I heart this site! Have you been yet? The trivia questions are adorable. The whole charitable enterprise the brainchild of one little girl. Love love love it. Just click on the dog at the right to go. Go every day to earn money for shelter dogs and cats.

The first Vommie goes to Governor Sanford of South Carolina.

This is the genius who, in the midst of the economic downturn, punished the citizens of his state by turning down Federal stimulus money because he doesn't like Obama. He later caved into public pressure and changed his mind. But heinous as that is, that's not the reason for the Vommie.

As a congressman, Sanford was all for the impeachment of William Jefferson Clinton, and among other things he said this: "I mean, I think that there were enough sordid details to get people genuinely ticked off at the irreverence for the office."

Last week he went missing without telling anyone where he was going, not his wife, not his gubernatorial staff. He left his state governor-less for ten days. And left his boys father-less on Father's Day, the jerk. It turned out his penis flew to Argentina for a tryst with his secret lover, the woman to whom said sex organ used a government computer to write this totally nonsordid, reverent-for-the-office email:

"I could digress and say that you have the ability to give magnificent gentle kisses, or that I love your tan lines or that I love the curve of your hips, the erotic beauty of you holding yourself (or two magnificent parts of yourself) in the faded glow of the night's light - but hey, that would be going into sexual details ...''

Yet this hypocritical, somewhat creepy man insists there's no reason for him to resign. Fall on your overstimulated sword, sir!

And another Vommie goes to Bravo TV. Pre-empting Top Chef Masters tonight for The Fashion Show, which -- for those smart enough to have never, ever looked at that merde stew -- features the insane and frequently terrifying Isaac Mizrahi calling weird-looking thread-testants with design Tourette's "My Kittens." It's the equivalent of substituting drool for creme fraiche in a recipe. Vom on you, Bravo! I'll be reading a book at 10 p.m. tonight!

PSA: One Click Feeds Animals in Shelters

2009-06-29T08:12:00.040-04:00

I've scrapped the snarky post I was working on re how I feel about the names of Sarah Jessica Parker's twins

Marion and Tabitha,

in favor of something positive. Because as long as they live the girls will be stuck with those heinous names, but here is a chance to start helping dogs and cats in shelters right now.

This site is the real deal. I know because the friend I call St. Annie of the Animals sent it to me. And then I scoped it out anyway, because when it comes to web sites, I trust no one.

It's so easy. Every day you go there and answer a trivia question. For every unique click on the trivia question, the site donates a small amount of food to animal shelters.
(Unique click, for my charitable minded obsessive-compulsive readers, means if you click 100 times today they will still only make one donation.)

Shelters have really suffered since the economy tanked, so this is just terrific. And I love it even more with a cherry on top because the site was conceived by a 12-year-old girl named Mimi. Yay, Mimi!

Click here for Dogs and here for Cats.

Yes, don't forget the cats, my evil cat-haters. It's not like you have to put one on your lap to do good here (although having a cat on your lap might chill you out and open a tiny crack in your hard heart).

Did you go? Now don't you feel warm all over?

Michael Jackson: Without the Scary Stuff

2009-06-27T16:55:00.025-04:00

Hey, I always give cred where it's due.
I just took myself back to remind myself there was a time...when MJ had a face and little boys were safe.
For your enjoyment:

THRILLER: no Naomi or even the Philipine prisoners, this is the real deal, and it's been a long time since I've seen the whole amazing thing.

BILLIE JEAN: still my favorite dance tune ever, just wish it didn't have the word "kid" in it so much

And in honor of my first commentor (who are you??? this Anonymous thing is kinda nerve-wracking), all about how when we played tag in grade school: STOP THE LOVE YOU SAVE from The Jackson 5 cartoon show (how cool is that???)

(Hint: For my technophobe computer-challenged friends who are actually much better at computing than I am, click on the name of the song and it will take you to the video. And it only took me two hours to get it that way -- so WATCH)

Ridiculous Message Board Posts: Michael Jackson Mourned

2009-06-26T16:20:00.018-04:00

Disclaimer: I love "Thriller." I spent years dancing, badly, to "Billie Jean." When I was a kid I hearted Michael Jackson. "Stop the Love You Save" was my favorite song, and I still smile when I hear "ABC." He was an amazing dancer, songwriter, singer and performer.

HOWEVER, in my humble opinion, and this is my blog (all shiny and new!), the guy -- the brilliant, amazingly talented guy, if you will -- was a freakazoid child molester best appreciated in memoriam.

Whew! That's done!

So anyway: I love internet message boards. Reading them is a hobby of mine. Knowing what people I try to avoid at all costs think is endlessly fascinating to me, as long as I don't have to share actual space with them or have any kind of discourse. Sure,it's unavoidable at times, but I go through life doing my best to stay away from the authors of all of the messages below, as well as their cousins, aunts, uncles and little dogs too.

These are actual messages I read on an actual message board last night and this morning. I reproduce them for your reading pain or pleasure, whichever.

Aqui:

"All those Jackson kids, why did he have to die first?"

"i will wear one white glove the rest of my life to honor you."

"My heart is breaking. He will never be replaced. My top 5 MJ songs: PYT, Thriller, Beat It, She's Out of My Life, and i can't remember the name of the other one."

"I will always miss Michael Jackson, I grew up with his posters."

"So sad that he is dead, I can't stop crying. I wonder if people will get a refund for the concerts."

"Well, at least now that he is dead malicious idiots cannot bad mouth him anymore."

"Please keep a tone of decency and not smear this man with things that he has already done."

"Leave it to that diva to not let Farrah have her own day."

"Unbelievable to think he could die, he is the same age as me."

"You wanna say something bad about Michael you come say it to my face."

"Until you have done these things you have no right to judge him."

"Can't wait to get to Heaven to get your autograph."

"You haters, you wish you had a kid so you could have sued Michael."

"Michael i know you are not really dead. Do not let the media kill you off."

"Michael has died and people are jealous."

"He was my first crush. I was 11. HUGE crush. It was really huge."

"People are so ignorant with the things they are saying. He had SKIN CANCER so they had to BLEACH HIS SKIN. He had lupus so they had to MAKE HIS NOSE HOLES BIGGER FOR THE BREATHING TUBE."

"He is my idol and I am so sad that my kids will never know him."

"I can't believe he is dead, I guess I will never see him perform in concert."

"I grew up with Michael and never could make the transition from young man to adult."

"Seriously, he is Michael Jackson! How could he die!"

"I remember when I was little I always fell asleep to his music."

"Such a legend. No one like him ever. I remember when he performed with Andy Williams."

"Today is such a sad day for Michael Jackson."

"All my thoughts and prayers for Michael and his family, also my Aunt Fran who passed away last night."

"I wish his family my deepest sorrow."

"It was a real Thriller to watch you perform."

"America has lost one of its greatest icons, a shining example of what a True Hoosier is."

"Its so weird that he died, I was just talking about him this morning."

"Like OJ he did it but he will be missed by the world."

"I used you for my essay for Black History Month. Now it's only 4 years later and you are gone."

"He was the greatest pop star to ever live. But I hope no one drags this on, dead is dead."

"He filled up so many of my years, what will I do?"

"I can't believe it, I never even found out about this."

"The vultures can't get you now, Michael."

A Blog Named Anabel Is Born

2009-06-26T16:15:00.004-04:00

Every second a blog is born.
This one's mine.