Wannabe

Same Old, Same Old... ?

2008-03-18T18:30:00.001-04:00

Today didn't have the greatest start. I had an 8am meeting with some parents who are concerned about the vocational future of their adult child with a disability. Such meetings don't happen that often, and are part of what I do. This particular one wasn't really that bad, except for the absurdly early timing. The parents are in a bit of denial about their daughter's abilities, but they were polite and understanding as I outlined options and what my agency would and would not do. They even agreed the current job is a "good fit", as far as it goes.

Mom: [Name of Assisted Living Facility] is not a bad match for "Linda". She likes working with old people.

"Linda": I like new people, too!

Bless her heart.

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A Bore

2008-03-12T18:30:00.001-04:00

For Weese. See, it's a door.

Now, 'fess up: did you notice the pseudo-knob, incorrectly placed, on the former door during your visit?

A Door and a Whore

2008-03-11T22:00:00.008-04:00

Sunday, I successfully hung a new door. I know, scintillating information. Historically, though, doors have been the bane of my existence. Moreso even than plumbing or electrical work. In fact, a couple of doors I've ruined in the past function as shelves in our sheds.

This particular door, Sunday's success story, was actually my second attempt to replace the truly sad, saggy, water-damaged critter that existed when we purchased the house. It's fairly visible, the entrance to the storage shed in our carport, and it looked even worse when the new siding went up (like two years ago). I first endeavored to replace that shed door months ago. Because not a single joint in this house is square or plumb, it required a LOT of planing. Because I was inattentive to the orientation of the door, I chiseled out the hinge slots upside down. Because my woman understood the effort involved, and because we were on a time line, we accepted this error and simply flipped the door - so the knob was three feet from the top rather than three feet from the bottom. By then, I was out of time... so I stuck the knob through the door, sans tongue, to create the appearance of a finished door.

Saturday, I decided it was time to permanently attach the knob. Only moments into the effort, I discovered (yet another) major flaw: Because I drilled the knob holes prior to the substantial planing, the latch tongue extended too far. That was the last straw, the failure that sent this broken camel back to Home Depot for a fresh door.

I attacked the new door with cautious confidence. I wrote "top outside" on one panel, so I'd keep the hinges and knob aligned. I used my table saw to trim the edge, so no planing was required. I chiseled carefully, measured everything at least twice, and compared my new door to the fucked up one several times, so there was no stripping of screws or relocating of hinges. Thus was the new door successfully hung. The knob is attached. It locks. It's done. I conquered a door!

Oh. The whore.

That bitch in Oklahoma. You've heard it by now. I was going to suggest that perhaps the bitch doth protest too much; that we should have a Gay Agenda including indoctrination of two-year-olds, including starting GayCare Centers, you know, before your kid goes to Pre-Gay... But I'm not ready to laugh yet. I'm gay, but I ain't happy. What the fuck did we ever do to that ignorant, hateful, bigot?

Kiss my gay ass, Sally Kern.

Hmmmm

2008-03-04T21:00:00.002-04:00

What to blog? Weese suggested I post my yard work efforts, but really, how exciting can re-stacked firewood and bags of leaves be? Lee sent me a cartoon yesterday with the caption, "I am looking out of the window waiting for something to blog". Close enough to the truth.

I had a fabulous time in Connecticut, both as a guest of Casa de Weese (and wife) and at SassyFemme's second annual blogfest, but I think others have nicely captured that event in words and photos.

My dogs are still cute, my job is still annoying, and we're still dragging our feet on the home renovations. We're beyond excited that The Boy is going to Asia, but that's been covered, too.

So... what's to come? As Weese suggested, Spring is nearly here in Northern Virginia. Time to get the tractor serviced and start the grass seeding and watering marathon anew. Pity we didn't get cranking on the basement rehab sooner, because now we'll have to find time for both. And baseball season is nearly upon us, so I need to prep for my two fantasy leagues.

I'm ready for Spring, though. Time to soak up the sun and flex a little muscle. :)

Coming Soon

2008-03-02T18:30:00.000-04:00

To a blog near you...

A new blog post. Really. I promise.

Just wanted to get the word out that I hadn't given up on this-here blogging thang entirely. :)

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WTF???

2008-01-29T22:00:00.000-04:00

Gmail, this time you've gone too far.

I know, it's damned hard to read. Allow me: There's a hyperlink entitled "UnfaithfulWife", to a website called "marriedbutplaying".

Fuck THAT.

And for the record, that was NOT inspired by the contents of my Inbox.

Harrumph.

That's My Woman

2008-01-17T21:00:00.000-04:00

Evening.

We'd been in the office for a while.

Suzanne left the room; I have no idea for what purpose. Shortly, I heard her talking nonsense to Pixie... a not uncommon occurrence.

She returned to the office. "You left a scary movie on the TV in there. Pixie was all curled up in a little ball* like she was scared...
so I turned it off."**

* also a not uncommon occurrence. See the picture?

** weese, please don't yell at me for leaving a TV on in an uninhabited room for a few short hours.

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Not A Bad Weekend

2008-01-13T21:30:00.000-04:00

The leaves have been raked and bagged and, praise the little baby Jebus, there's still grass underneath.

There were nice payoffs for the effort.

The football was 3/4's excellent.

The food was phenomenal.

And the lapful of love was... perfect.

There can't ever be too many pics of our dogs, can there?

Playoffs

2008-01-10T20:30:00.000-04:00

W: I'm worried about this weekend's game.
S: Don't be. NO WAY are the Giants going to beat the 'Boys. They have too much talent.
W: Shit. Do you remember what Romo did at the end of last season?
S: What?
W: He choked like, like... like a Yankee.

*Thanks, Bent. I always LOVED that post. ;p

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On Beverages and Being Lazy

2007-12-08T12:00:00.000-04:00

It was a lazy Saturday morning. Quite uncharacteristically, we both slept in. Miraculously, the dogs allowed our slovenly behavior. Upon waking, the dogs needs were tended, but we elected to drink our coffee from bed while channel-surfing.

We ended up viewing a History Channel program on the, well, history of beer in America. From the early competition of breweries in Milwaukee to the vision of August Busch in St. Louis and later upstarts in Colorado, we learned of the challenges of bottling, the introduction of canning, and the woeful interlude known as Prohibition. More than once, the narrator mentioned Busch's dream of making America a nation of beer drinkers. After one such occurrence, Suzanne lifted her coffee mug in tribute and exclaimed, "I love these people!"

Coffee on lazy Saturday mornings is good. Almost as good as entrepreneurism and beer.

Salud.

The Best Damned Day

2007-12-02T20:00:00.000-04:00

I don't do birthdays. Oh, I'm fine with celebrating the birthdays of others, just not my own. I don't care to have a lot of fuss; frankly, I hate being the center of attention. I don't drop hints to coworkers or friends when my birthday is approaching, I beg Suzanne not to sing to me... and, this year, I adamantly insisted that I not be the recipient of another blogosphere VaginArt celebration.

Against all odds, my friends both here at home and across the country respected my wish. Of even greater unlikelihood, I am acknowledging--publicly, willfully, gleefully--my birthday. From the handmade gifts that were a total surprise, to the Japanese Maple that now resides in Connecticut (simply waiting for me to claim it), the thoughtfulness of my dear friends demands more than a gracious receipt. They deserve celebration.

The hand-drawn card taped to a beer from my own fridge was pretty damned funny, too.

Thank you all for a wonderful day. :)

Inanity

2007-11-29T22:30:00.000-04:00

I despise the current Wendy's marketing campaign. You've seen them - some guy is wearing that Godawful red-haired pigtail wig that replicates the restaurant's logo while engaging in burger conversation.

I like Wendy's. Hell, I own stock in Wendy's. It's my name. But the ad campaign blows. It's stupid. Annoying. That's Wrong*.

*Almost enough so to make me refrain from purchasing that delectable new hamburger comprised of jalepenos, bacon, and two kinds of cheese, melted between two beef patties. Mmmmmm.

Hiatal Highlights

2007-11-26T12:55:00.000-04:00

Aka, bits and pieces of what was happening while I was not blogging.

I took out a mailbox... while driving a company car, with my newest employee along for the thump. Oops.

A couple of very dear friendships were compromised. *Whine warning* Isn't quitting your job after having a baby enough? Must new mommies move out of state, too?

A couple of budding friendships continued to blossom (y'all know who you are, and I love you).

Virtually nothing changed on the home improvement front. So far, I'm okay with that. I'm thrilled to report the water hoses have been put away for the season; of course, the grass-growing efforts dictate that we blow and bag the leaves nearly every freaking weekend. Ah, well.

My parents visited, and it was relatively (pun intended) painless... even when we all went to lunch with Suzanne's mom (yikes!). My dad climbed another step up on his pedestal by commenting, "What is, is" when I mentioned my mother's avoidance of my lesbianism. Perhaps the moment was cuter because he said it in old-mumbly-man-from-Texas Spanish... or just because he's my daddy and his unconditional love and support are a cornerstone of my life.

We replaced our shitty cell phones. Suzanne's new QWERTY keyboard has vastly impacted the speed with which she texts.

We celebrated Dud's 10th birthday. He remains fit and active, and I continue to ~~believe~~ self-delude that he'll live forever.

We saw The Boy perform when his tour brought him to the area. The show was as cheesy as a fondue pot at a Packers tailgating party, but he was undeniably good. He's also being paid well, a dream come true for parentals of a no-longer-child pursuing a career in music theatre. Go, Boy, go!

I'm certain there were other occurrences, good and bad... but that's a fair nutshell. I, um, also missed my blogging relationships, so it's good to be back. :)

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Kinda Like Back Home...

2007-11-21T21:00:00.000-04:00

... where, if one orders a "coke" at a restaurant, the inevitable question is, "What kind?". In small-town Southeast Texas, "coke" is synonymous with "soda" or "pop" to the rest of the country.

In Northern Virginia, or at least in MY household, I note a similar misusage:

Suzanne: Would you bring me a couple of those almond rocas on your way back?
Wen: How many is "a couple"?
Suzanne: Four.

To my knowledge, this largesse of coupling does not apply to sexual interactions.

***

Y'all have a couple of nice days this Thanksgiving. :)

Just in Time for Thanksgiving

2007-11-19T17:30:00.000-04:00

Wife of weese thought it was bad when I sorta kinda broke the bathroom door during their visit. That was easily repaired, however, with a little wood glue, sanding, and painting. My mother's treatment of the bathroom sink fixture, however, was a bit more vexing.

Note: We intentionally chose a retro-style fixture to match the, um, style of our 1950's home. That fixture, however, was neither old nor cheap. What the hell!?!?

Although Suzanne and I did manage to ~~procrastinate~~ make do for a couple of weeks, there is NO WAY we can expect our Thanksgiving guests to employ the same strategy... is there?

Big D Wins!

2007-11-18T20:00:00.000-04:00

Meaning Dudley, of course. I wouldn't dare gloat about the Cowboys victory over the Redskins in this household. Certainly not.

After that last interception, Pixie turned her back on the game.

Suzanne was smarter. She went grocery shopping.

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Nothing But a Number

2007-11-15T07:00:00.000-04:00

'Twas the night before Chr--

No, that's not right. Let's see. It's supposed to be the story of when I turned 40, but that milestone hasn't actually occurred yet. Lest any of you ~~old farts~~ slightly more youth-challenged folks think I'm glorying in that fact, I am not. I have been acutely aware that nearly all of my blogfriends, many of whom I love dearly, are older. Genteel soul that I am, I won't name names nor point fingers. Some are older than others, of course.

Take Teresa. Hell, she's only turning 40. Forty. Big freaking whoop. Forty is young in my mind, particularly as I witness the energy, activity, and joy of those of greater chronological achievement. Of course, it helps that I'll be able to claim to be in the same decade as Suzanne when I do turn 40. I wonder what other distinctions will herald that hallmark?

As I will no longer be working for the agency that is slowly crushing my spirit, I may be employed in an entirely new profession.
I will be nearly three years into the Five Year Plan.*
I will almost certainly still be wearing braces.**
I will continue to revel in the joy that I glean from our amazing friends and pets.
My truck will be paid off.
We'll likely have a much better concept of The Boy's future.
My yard will be as beautiful as a golf course.
And, possibly, I'll finally have changed the picture on my Driver's License, replacing the picture from when I moved to Virginia - when I was 28, with short hair.

Why do I feel like I'll look back at this in a couple of years and laugh? Ah, well. This isn't truly about me, anyway. Today is the 40th birthday of my friend, and I wish her all the enjoyment a day may hold.

*More on that later. Maybe.

**Okay, the idea of braces at 40 isn't all that delightful.

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Ahhhh

2007-11-11T16:30:00.000-04:00

A ~~monstrous conflagration~~ roaring fire in the fireplace.
Football on the TV.
Fantasy Football on the computers.
Dogs cuddling.
A cocktail or two.
Good friends, sharing.

A damned near perfect weekend.

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no, No, NO

2007-11-07T21:30:00.000-04:00

A brief aside while a guest was on the phone.

W: Remind me later to tell you about [my boss's] great nephew.

S: Her right nipple?

WTF?? If you knew my boss, you'd know why I gagged.

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We're Expanding Our Horizons...

2007-11-05T07:00:00.000-04:00

Instead of being embarrassed by the number of beer cans in our recycling bin, we're now chagrined by the abundance of beer cartons in our trash. (I'm not sure if the pizza box helps or hurts our image.)

Whatever. Good times.

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Happy Birthday, Baby

2007-11-04T12:45:00.000-04:00

While not precisely how I envisioned ~~employing "power tools"~~ spending the hours preceding football, I'm not complaining. We're a good team. :)

No More, For Now

2007-09-21T09:37:00.000-04:00

I've been a lousy blogger this year. Not only is my posting down, but I've struggled to even keep up with all of your blogs.

So, I'm taking a break. I don't want to delete my blog permanently and I'm too lazy to save every freaking post as draft, so this notice will just have to suffice.

Thank you to those of you who expressed concern. All is well. I'll be back when blogging feels like fun again, instead of an obligation.

Alarm!

2007-09-12T12:00:00.000-04:00

S, speaking with the righteous indignation of Those Who Get To Sleep In: The neighbor came knocking at the door at like 7 o'clock this morning!

W, thinking something isn't right, the neighbor KNOWS we're bedslugs. Then it clicks: Suzanne, I was still here at 7:00. Try again.

S, busted: Um, okay, it was probably like 9:00.

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Topography

2007-09-11T19:40:00.000-04:00

Or... the doggy version of Where's Waldo.

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Say it with Me....

2007-08-31T22:00:00.000-04:00

"Awwwwwwww..."

So sweet, isn't he?

Sorry. I know Eva is hot, but I was damned tired of looking at Mr. Longoria.

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There are Worse Names...

2007-08-17T21:30:00.000-04:00

I'm guessing he doesn't enjoy it much, even though she is fucking HOT.

See?

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Vision

2007-08-15T12:55:00.000-04:00

Today's quote of note:

Don't borrow someone else's spectacles to view yourself with.
~Simon Travaglia (Who?)

Certainly I'm guilty of that. But the question begs: How does one view oneself?

My "glasses" are often quite smudged. Similar to "beer goggles", I recognize that what I "see" may look different in the morning, or next year... and certainly is different than what others see.

We are fluid, we ~~homos~~ homo sapiens. Our perceptions, thoughts, and ideals are naturally influenced by our environment. Whether a subtle shift in interpersonal dynamics, a less-than-satisfactory hair day, a major job change, or a war in another country, we constantly receive external feedback and new information. We sift the data, either consciously or unconsciously; the input may reinforce preconceived notions or challenge them.

Of course, there are some beliefs that are so ingrained they seem an intrinsic part of who we are. A "frame" for the glasses, so to speak. I find I'm quite comfortable with my personal framework.

Now, I just need to polish those lenses.

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Introspection... Exposed

2007-08-09T23:00:00.000-04:00

Although I haven't referenced it too often, I have been absolutely miserable at my place of employment for some time. A handful of people that know me well are acutely aware of this, and have been encouraging me to find a new job. I started out thinking about that, but the process somehow morphed into what the fuck do I want?

I don't know why I'm sharing this, except that feedback would be welcome and it's been in my head for too long.

So...

What do I like? Dogs; food; sports; music; books; computers; processes; writing; the English language; neat, orderly existence

What do I dislike? People (i.e. interpersonal interactions, answering the phone); bureaucracies, being the center of attention

What are my strengths? Explaining things in terms others can understand; spelling; proficiency with Word, familiarity with Excel; good vocabulary; supervisory experience; good work history of progressive responsibility; excellent attention to detail; typing 80 wpm; sense of humor; significant familiarity with disability rights, issues, and laws; supportive friends and partner; ambition; physical strength, relative good health; persistence; loyalty; sensitivity to others' perceptions

What are my weaknesses? Limited formal education; distractibility; procrastination; downright lazy at times; poor self-perception; low frustration-tolerance; stubborn; fear of being judged; hearing; some physical limitation due to back/shoulder pain; need for order; competitiveness; difficulty asking for help

What are my needs? A reasonable income; benefits; a shorter commute; a sane supervisor; stability; approval

So, there I am, ~~exposed~~ vocationally encapsulated. Thoughts welcome.

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Wannabe...

2007-08-05T22:00:00.000-04:00

Back when I first started this blog, I struggled a bit with what to call it. I'm not sure what I intended with the Wannabe moniker at the time; wannabe a writer? Wannabe living more in the world and less in my head? Wannabe rich, successful, powerful, beautiful? Wannabe a better partner, daughter, friend, employee? Wannabe living on an island with ten dogs and no cares in the world? I don't think I had a clear concept of what I wanted. I still don't.

My wants today are still diffuse and, largely, unassuming.

I want to finish the renovations of this house.
I want the fuck out of my job.
I want my dogs to live forever.

I know, those are wants, not wannabes. For now, I'll settle for wannabe posting more often than bimonthly.

Ooh, ambition.

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WWSP?

2007-07-14T20:30:00.000-04:00

WHERE WILL SYD PUKE?

I know, silly question. She's made it clear she'll puke just about anywhere, and for silly little reasons like mayonnaise, anything au gratin, or beef tongue. Still, a few (thus far) unmentioned locations come to mind...

7. The sexy brown farm truck

Hey, I didn't say K's truck. I don't think Syd has a death wish.

6. While driving her "hupty"

TLF optional.

5. On her keyboard

It's bound to happen...

4. On her shoes

Again...

3. In her purse

Hey, she already has dog poop in there...

2. On the roof

I'm wondering if this might be a case of "been there, done that"...

1. In Cybill Shepherd's cleavage

Y'all thought she was just peeking, didn't you?

(Thanks, Weese)

I figured as long as I was going to top the shit list, I'd earn it. ;p

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Oh My... Goodness

2007-07-08T15:00:00.000-04:00

Who knew there were members-only Christian paintball parks? The link to the fantastically cheesy article about such a facility in Wisconsin (God's country?) is below, but I'll give a few highlights.

"Christian paintball park provides friendly fire" is the sub-title from the Canadian paper that ran the "article."

The term holy war is also used, of course. As is fighting for the glory of God.

In addition to prayer before combat, the rules apparently prohibit cheating, "spiteful" play, and swearing. [Fuck THAT.]

It's called Promised Land, and the paintballs have the little Christian fish symbol printed on them. [!!!!!]

A few quotes from the "Christian Soldiers":

I've looked in the Bible, and can't find anything wrong with paintball.
On a Sunday we could be in church, but why not be out playing paintball and spreading the word?
There's an impression that Christians are wimps -- that they're just no fun.
The secret is not to get shot much.

And finally, there's this little nugget:

While glad to save the Promised Land, after a day embedded with God's play-army, I have lingering questions -- which I ask Ohio Christian player Dan Skinner. Would Jesus play paintball? And how well?

"The Bible talks about Jesus wrestling with his disciples," he answers. "I believe if he played paintball he would play just like anyone else. He wouldn't use his divine power to win, because that would be cheating."

What would Jesus do? Laugh, for starters. I hope.

[Source]

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Truth

2007-07-07T21:30:00.000-04:00

Suzanne, in an email with a friend:

Please feel free to speak your mind. You know I always do.

Yep.

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Not an Ass, But Still Nice

2007-06-25T12:00:00.000-04:00

Certain pervy bloggers have been passing around this cute little [not even remotely safe for work] link to a computer screen cleaner. Although it's as freaky as it attractive, we had fun with it for a few minutes.

Several hours later...

S: My screen is dirty. [A sincere statement, not intended as a lead-in]

W: I sent you a monitor cleaner already! [Giggling and thinking I was quite clever]

S: That didn't do any good. All that did was leave lick marks on the outside of the screen.

[Pause]

W: Hey! [Not so clever after all, but damned amused]

June 21, 2007

2007-06-21T12:00:00.000-04:00

Summer's officially here. Today's the summer solstice and is the longest day of the year.

Whether you like it...

Or not.

(Yes, this counts as a post, damnit!)
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Twelfth Night

2007-05-31T21:00:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so it's been 12 full days since I last posted. Twelve days full of sunshine and conscientious watering, as a matter of fact.

Yeah, I'm writing about grass again. Check it out.

Don't worry about that barren patch in the middle. That area will be graded with the dirt that was delivered today, then freshly seeded. Note the lush quality of my grass relative to the pre-existing stuff. Overseeding of several such areas of the yard is also on the to-do list.

I'll try to refrain from posting more pictures of additional grass growth.

But no promises.

[Dirt update, per Weese's request.]

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WWWD?

2007-05-19T22:00:00.000-04:00

It started innocently enough. Given our recent success in other landscaping endeavors, today I wanted to tackle the sparse, weedy area of our back yard that was once referenced as "the wildlife habitat." When we purchased our home, it was in need of a little attention. Most of our attention has gone to the inside of the house, but we have done - or paid for - tree work, and we did remove the massive pile of branches and other debris that comprised the wildlife habitat. The area has lain untouched by anything other than the mower since that time. I soaked it pretty well with the hose last night to facilitate loosening the dirt to utilize this fine product:

Per the instructions, I needed to loosen a couple of inches of the "topsoil" (we'll use that term loosely, mmkay?) prior to applying the combination seed/fertilizer. A few moments into my task, I realized there was yet another layer of crap buried in the earth.

I shucked my gloves and went to consult with Suzanne about the options. We decided it would be best to do the job the right way, rather than half-assing it. We reasoned that, despite the apparent health of the existing weeds, grass might not grow as prolifically. We didn't want weeds in our new grass.

And, the penultimate decision-maker: What Would Weese Do?

WWWD*? Weese would do it right. And how could I, a young (enough), strong (enough), stubborn (hell yeah) lesbian with four sound extremities, not do WWWD (What Weese Would Do - nice how it works both ways, huh?).

So, documentation of my WWWD labors. Halfway, but not half-ass.

The excavation items today included screen, plastic sheeting, linoleum, candles, two steel rods, a plastic milk carton, several margarine-type plastic containers, plastic potting trays, paint rollers, and more. For the record, I'm not sure how I feel about global warming, but that shit about how plastic never deteriorates? Absolutely true.

If When I finish this particular project, I fully intend to engage in another WWWD ritual: cocktails.

*"WWWD" Copyright Syd, 2007. Used by permission.

Reason Number 1548

2007-05-14T20:30:00.000-04:00

... that I love Trader Joe's.

Suburban Wildlife*

2007-05-08T22:30:00.000-04:00

Watching the sunset over the backyard this evening, I noticed this:

I laughed, assuming Suzanne had placed it there to ~~torture~~ play with Pixie. When she saw the object of my amusement, she started laughing, too.

It seems it was placed there by the contractors we had at the house today.

*Title not meant to imply lack of actual squirrels, despite Pixie's vigilance.
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Discharge

2007-05-06T21:30:00.000-04:00

This just pisses me OFF. Now, now that military recruiting is at an all-time low, NOW gays are good enough?

Discharged gay sailor is called back to active duty

Grrr. I love my country. I respect and support our soldiers. This fucking war, and all the associated expense in lives, money, and international respect, just makes me ill. The selective application of laws and loopholes is just icing on the cake.

I'm so sick of this political diet I could choke.

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Do You Know Jack?

2007-05-05T12:00:00.000-04:00

I imagine by now that the concept of "Jack Radio" is fairly well-known: a format of music from the 60s to the 90s, plus "whatever" else they feel like playing. DC did have a Jack, called George, but the format changed recently. There is a Jack out of Baltimore, but the signal strength doesn't really stretch to accommodate my commute. Not that it matters, really. I'm much more prone to listening to sports radio or Don & Mike. Yesterday, however, I did discover that Baltimore's Jack 102.7 is sponsoring a concert in July: Jack Fest!

Oh my f'ing God. Are they serious? Jack Fest? Is it sponsored by Johnson & Johnson? Or Astroglide? That's whacked.

I hope the name doesn't rub anybody the wrong way. Nah, only a jerk would get bent out of shape over that. You've really got to hand it to those marketing people. You just can't beat that name.

It's a shame the lineup doesn't include Green Day, since they apparently have some affinity for choking the chicken.

I'm not going to touch the potential food vendor items. Wait, yes I am. Surely some kind of beef. Maybe salami. With mayo. Or hot dogs. I doubt they'd have bananas or cucumbers, but pickles might be available. Yeah, foodstuffs with preservatives are probably the best shot. Beef jerky, anyone?

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Well, Spam is a Meat

2007-04-22T11:30:00.000-04:00

As most of you probably know by now, my email is a Gmail account. More often than not, I'm a fan of Gmail. The "not" generally involves those (usually brief) spazzes when Gmail is "unable to process request. Please try again in a few moments". I think it's cute that the trash can shows recycling tips, and the spam folder has Spam recipes. (OMG, some of those recipes...!)

I've been impressed with Gmail's success in capturing spams and dumping them into the spam folder. Unfortunately, I do have to go to the folder and officially trash them. Because I can't stand to have that bold Spam (8) offending my sense of order, I dump the folder several times a day. Occasionally, the nature of the spam does catch my eye. Of late, I've been besieged with male sexual organ enhancement products. What the FUCK? Of all the bullshit that could inundate my account, why this? [Don't be nasty, Sydpacker. Oh, what the hell - go ahead.]

The best of the worst:

Stop blaming your lack of getting laid on everything under the sun. Maybe it's the moon...
Sex can be one of the most enjoyable parts of your life. Um, duh.
No more floppy dick. 'Cause floppies are, like, so old school.
My wife loves the new size of my dick. She calls me Big Boy now. Better than "Vienna Sausage", no doubt.
This email will make your dick bigger. Just LOL
Stretch her out with MegaDik. Yikes!
She'll hurt so good with MegaDik. That's better.
Make your dick huge this summer. For the summer? Is this like tanning?
Are you a stud in the sack or a dud at the back? At the back of...? Nm, I don't want to know.
Do you have what it takes? Become a solid 8 inches. Yes, I said *8* inches. Could be helpful doggy style. Maybe that's the "back" reference...
Get a visit from the Big Dick Fairy. Sounds rather gay.
Do you ejaculate before or within minutes of penetration? Frequently. Is that a problem?

Thanks, Gmail. I've had my "fill".

Maybe in May

2007-04-19T18:00:00.000-04:00

Is it just me, or has April just sucked, and sucked, and sucked some more? (If it is just me, I may have to switch to an every-other-month, or every-other-OTHER-month blog posting schedule.) Fortunately, I don't think it is only my perception. Crazy weather. Crazy people. It's all been distracting, and beyond dismaying. Hell, I even forgot to call my mother on her birthday, yet was timely in my efforts for Syd's Bitch and Wife of Weese. Just crazy.

So... Fuck April. (The month, Asshats. Don't be nasty.)

My point? There IS hope, people. First, American Idol has finally been liberated from Sangina. With a little luck, I'll be able to resume doing laundry in my OWN laundry room soon. The Orioles are over .500, a virtual miracle. And then there's World Naked Gardening Day! [Ya'll really need to open that link to see the header.]

Why garden naked? First of all, it's fun! Second only to swimming, gardening is at the top of the list of family-friendly activities people are most ready to consider doing nude. WTF? Haven't "family values" gone far enough?

More daring groups can make rapid clothes-free sorties into public parks to do community-friendly stealth cleanups. And mug shots are such a nice addition to any family album.

Gardening has a timeless quality, and anyone can do it: young and old, singles or groups, the fit and infirm, urban and rural. no, No, NO!

Do it inside your house, in your back yard, on a hiking trail, at a city park, or on the streets. Insert your own "do it" joke here.

...post your thoughts and images onto an Internet site... Um, that's called porn. Not that I'm maligning porn... oh, nm.

And for those of us that don't have a garden, might I suggest a little bush trimming to honor the day? After all, "All that's involved is getting naked and making the world's gardens--whatever their size, public or private--healthier and more attractive".

Coincidence that this date is concomitant with Cinco de Mayo? I don't think so.

Please, Sir, may I have some more?

2007-04-14T11:30:00.000-04:00

What, you want a post? Eh, what can I say; it was just one of those weeks. Er, two of those weeks. Whatever.

Without further ado, I present my one-and-only Season Whatever American Idol post. Yes, I watch the damned show, although this may very well be my last season thanks to the absurdity that is Sangina's continued presence among the "top" performers. I'm not going to rant about that, however. This post was inspired by none other than Mr. Phil Stacey, also known as Chemo Phil and Bat Boy. Harsh? I didn't make up those names, although I have no argument with them. I could go further and suggest that he looks like he has HIV or that he was recently liberated from a concentration camp...

Clearly, Mr. Stacey freaks me out. I appreciate his variety of hats, but they don't really do much to help his appearance in my opinion. This past Tuesday, the hat de jour brought this image to mind:

[Quick rant: Jeers to the F'ing American Idol site, that made me scroll through 139 of the 168 pictures posted from last week's performances in order to obtain Mr. Stacey's image. Ever heard of thumbnails, Asshats??? Haley's legs were nowhere near good enough to justify that. And I won't even mention Lakisha's teef.]

So, the question begs: what does Mr. Stacey want more of?

Please, Sir, may I have some more...

HAIR?
VOTES?
HATS?
T CELLS?

Additional suggestions welcome.

.

Win Some, Lose Some

2007-03-30T22:30:00.000-04:00

Going in to the Final Four weekend of the NCAA men's and women's tournaments, I can honestly say I suck at picking college hoops. One more time, just for clarity: I SUCK at picking college hoops. Actually, I'm still alive in a couple of men's brackets... but it was the women I was really interested in.

Ah, well. This was really my first year of sincere appreciation of college basketball, so I can accept my suckiness with aplomb. It helps that I'm drafting two fantasy baseball teams this weekend, of course.

Oh, and there's this:

I never claimed to be particularly knowledgable of celebrity doings, either. I'm not. But even *I* know Lindsay Lohan is an Attention Ho unlike any other. Skanky bitch did me proud. ;p

Accessorizing

2007-03-27T08:00:00.000-04:00

My version of coordinating accessories goes something like this: If I'm wearing earth tones, I'll wear gold jewelry and put my hair in either a brown clip or band. If I'm wearing black/gray/blue, I'll wear silver jewelry and a black hair clip/band. Simple. Low-maintenance, even. Well, I also coordinate the color of my eye liner, but that's not the point.

For years, I was the only one in the house that even owned hair accessories. That, of course, has changed with Suzanne's longer locks. I generally keep my hair accoutrements nicely snuggled together in a tray in the guest room, where I do my hair. Now that we "share" such implements, however...

W: Do you know why I can't find any of my brown bands and have to get a new one almost every time I need one?

S: No. I picked up a whole bunch of bands yesterday and put them... places. [waves hand about]

Power Oops

2007-03-26T00:30:00.000-04:00

Know what happens when one accidentally hits the metal sawhorse braces while using a circular saw on plywood?

(Hint: it makes a really horrid noise. The kind of noise that makes your teeth hurt.)

Yes, yes, that's right. It bends the teeth of the saw blade.

Obviously, we persevered. What kind of power tool dykes would we be if we didn't have extra blades on hand?

Crowded House

2007-03-24T10:30:00.000-04:00

Behold, someone's artistic rendering of how the bodies in the bed were arranged last night. The clear indication is that yours truly is a bed hog.

I don't know why my Dudley Dawg was given a beaver tail [giggle] or a deformed head.

For those of you who've met Suzanne, you'll surely recognize that images are not drawn to scale. I've never slept with a midget.

For the Record

2007-03-18T20:00:00.000-04:00

I'm well-acquainted with the mess associated with drywall work. Drywall dust gets everywhere.

I learned today there is something far, far worse, however: the black, dense, silty, kinda-like-printer-toner residue from the gaping chimney pipe where a former oil furnace once vented.

By itself, it's nasty. In a laundry room, where disconnecting the washer inevitably led to a little water on the floor, it's a nightmare. And that was before I tackled washing the walls and such.

I may very well have nightmares tonight. Nightmares of the world being overcome, one sooty black shoeprint at a time.

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Sometimes Bad is Bad

2007-03-16T23:57:00.000-04:00

I get a lot of unsolicited feedback, both joking and judgmental, about my love affair with salt. Mmm, salt. Crystalline nectar of the Gods. In case this is news to you, I adore salt. I apply it liberally and frequently to a multitude of foods.

Yes, I'm aware that, like most addictions, this is not healthy. To date, however, my blood pressure is fine. When and if that should change, I suppose I'll have to consider cutting back. (I actually have an experience in salt deprivation, but that's another story for another time...)

Those that know me well have long since abandoned efforts to reform me. A delightful few have even gone so far as to bestow salt-oriented gifts: fancy french sea salt crystals, an engraved salt shaker, The Book of Salt, a salt-and-garlic grinder, a beautiful chunk of salt crystal from Salt Lake City... Yes, my friends, salt equals love in the WenWhit Lexicon. (Suzanne's devotion is evidenced in her tolerance of the three additional salt shakers I keep strategically located near my habitual berths throughout the house.)

The bottom line: salt is good.Except when it isn't.

I'm not referring to my health. I'm talking about this:

That's what my beloved little Baja looks like after a few days of commuting post-snow-salting. I KNOW the salt and sand is necessary, but trust me folks, it's a necessary evil. You Yanks know what I'm talking about. The salt so liberally spread on the roadways to defeat snow and ice makes one HELL of a mess.

In case you were wondering, my car is black.

Or it was.

Competitions Abound

2007-03-11T11:00:00.000-04:00

March is a fun time for my not-so-inner sports dyke. This year, I'm competing in a couple of March Madness brackets (only one for $$, damn it), a Women's Tournament Challenge (how cool is that?), and even a celebrity league and bracket (c'mon, Lohan, be the little drama queen I KNOW you are).

It's also time to get serious about preparation for the fantasy baseball leagues I'm playing. First, though, I need to make my top 5 picks for the second annual American Idol pool at work. I sucked big time last year, but I'd still take Katharine McPhee and Chris Daughtry over Taylor Hicks.

Maybe it's a good thing that the Washington Post's Beer Madness bracket is only something I can see, rather than play.

Ah, spring is in the air.

Snapshot

2007-03-10T20:30:00.000-04:00

Nod to OCB for the link.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Surprisingly, I think this one is more "me" than most of the silly quizzes and surveys I've done.

Hermit at Heart

2007-03-09T20:00:00.000-04:00

On the phone with the Missus, stuck in traffic:

Wen: Traffic sucks. I'm going to be late... again.
Suz: [insert kind words of sympathy] So... you'd be pleased to know I turned down a dinner invitation tonight from our neighbor?
Wen: Oh HELL yes. Thank you.
Suz: [pause] But I gave him a "maybe" for tomorrow night.
Wen: [much swearing and bitching]
Suz: C'mon, it'll be fun. We'll go out, eat some good food...
Wen: I'm fine with going out to eat. Let's go. You and me.
Suz: [whine] He invited us to dinner.
Wen: [more cursing]
Suz: You sound like such a curmudgeon.
Wen: I FEEL like a curmudgeon, damnit.
Suz: Then do it for me.

And that's the bottom line. Of course I'll go. And I won't even bitch about it ~~anymore~~ much more. It's a small enough thing to do to bring her a little happiness.

I don't know why I feel so curmudgeonly about socialization. Our neighbor is very nice, easy enough to talk to, and a decent friend. It's not about him. Or Suz. It's certainly not an aversion to eating! It's me wanting to play hermit. I'd make a damned fine hermit, I would.

And yes, Zanne, I will almost certainly employ the same vehicle de extroversion that worked so effectively in Connecticut. Fortunately, I don't expect cameras to be present to document my state this time around. :)

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I Can't Resist

2007-03-04T12:00:00.000-04:00

I know, it's nasty. I'm simply powerless to resist the affection, however.

Yeah, it's a mutual love thing.

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Because Knowledge is Good

2007-03-02T09:00:00.000-04:00

If you view politics with an eye toward individual policies and stances rather than taking a "straight" Republican or Democratic line, The National Journal has published it's review of 2006 congressional voting.

"The ratings rank lawmakers on how they vote relative to each other on a conservative-to-liberal scale in both the Senate and the House. The scores are based on the members' votes in three areas: economic issues, social issues, and foreign policy."

It's an interesting read, even if you DO vote a straight party ticket.

Nearly Northern 'Necks

2007-03-01T19:00:00.000-04:00

In case any of you proud Southerners were wondering, Maryland (where I work) is indeed below the Mason-Dixon line. Still, the area I frequent is fairly urban. SUVs, rather than trucks, dominate the roads.

This here feller in my office parking lot apparently got tired of the dirty, frozen piles of slush that are the plowed remains of the snow that f'd up our return flight from Connecticut on Sunday.

Or maybe he just wanted to have some fun. :)

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O. M. G.

2007-03-01T00:56:00.000-04:00

My freaking blogroll notification of new posts is actually functioning. Hell must be freezing over...

Hell

2007-02-23T01:00:00.000-04:00

AKA: Sudden Inspiration

I just saw Patti LaBelle doing a PSA regarding diabetes. She referred to food as "the enemy".

THAT is MY version of Hell. I know millions of people live with the realities of diabetes. My grandfather suffered from adult-onset diabetes. A cousin has endured insulin shots since my earliest memories. I suppose, in those circumstances, I could learn to adjust my diet to better suit the needs of my misfiring pancreas...

But... to consider food... Food, food, glorious food... the enemy...

That would be Hell.

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Nothin'

2007-02-23T00:00:00.000-04:00

I got nothin'. No inspiration, no creative impulse, no bit of humor or insight to share. I wouldn't mind blogging, so it's not exactly an issue of motivation... but I got nothin'. The couple of half-finished entries languishing in my drafts will have to languish a bit longer. (See, Syd, it IS possible to reference blog fodder without talking about your "box"!)

Anyway, I'm pretty close to asserting that February sucks just as much as January. Perhaps a weekend of lesbian blogger fun is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe this month can be salvaged after all. In the meantime, try to appreciate that the pillow-fighting entry has been replaced. I know I was damned tired of looking at it.

Catch ya'll on the flipside. Is March good for you?

Fight Like a Girl?

2007-02-11T10:00:00.000-04:00

Somehow, beer.com fell off of my radar a while back. As I was reacquainting myself with the ~~hot chicks~~ ~~games~~ ~~great links~~ history of beer, I happened across a link for the Pillow Fight League:

Well, I guess I can't excuse my ignorance of the PFL with neglecting beer.com, since it's apparently been around since 2004. Maybe the more interesting point is that it was established in 2004 and is still an active, successful "sport". (The most recent fight was in Brooklyn on 1/19.)

The Official PFL Rules

Women Fighters Only. No Exceptions. [So far, so good]
Fights have a five minute time limit and are won via pinfall, surrender, or referee stoppage. If a fight ends at the time limit with no winner, a winner is declared by a three-judge committee. [Okay, reasonable enough]
Punching, leg drops, clotheslines, submission holds, and other moves are allowed as long as a pillow is used to execute the attack. [Cool!]
Preventing an opponents' pillow strike by holding her pillow results in a warning from the referee. Judges may choose to include these warnings as part of their judging criteria if a fight goes the distance. [Again, kinda makes sense]
No eye-gouging, biting, scratching, hair pulling, or low blows. [Damn. Maybe it's not 'fighting like a girl', after all. What about bitch-slaps?]
No rude, lewd, or suggestive behavior. [Why the hell not?]
Loading a pillow with a foreign object such as a brick is strictly forbidden. [I guess that would kinda change the essence of the fight...]

Hey, if you're looking for a reason to go to Ontario in March, might I suggest getting tickets for the Boom Boom Room on the 30th? If you should, take pics. Please.

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Lily

2007-01-31T22:30:00.000-04:00

I love deadlines. I especially like the whooshing sound they make as they go flying by.

~ Douglas Adams

January has simply kicked my ass this year. Not enough sunlight. Too many cold days. And yes, too many deadlines. This week in particular has been a bitch on wheels at work; the type of week when it seems Friday will never come.

But now it's Wednesday... hump day [heh]. The work week is 60% done. And it was the last day of this horrid month. I don't even care if it snows tomorrow.

January can kiss my lily white ass.

There Ain't Enough Alcohol in the World

2007-01-26T00:30:00.000-04:00

I heard a little news clip this evening that precipitated a web search for a "Burns Supper". Turns out there's a lot of information on the subject, so let me break down the salient points for you:

Scottish bar
Formal attire
Birthday of Robert Burns (1/25/1759)
Recitation of Burns' poetry
Dinner
Speech
Toast
Another speech
More poetry
Singing of Auld Lang Syne, holding hands no less

No offense to Mr. Burns or any poetry fans out there, but this is SO not my cup of tea... nae shot of whiskey. For those who might be tempted by such an event, however, there is one additional detail of note. The menu.

Haggis. If you don't know what it is, click at your own risk. I'm not inclined to detail it here.

You Scots are some ~~sick, sick puppies~~ brave, interesting people. As for me, I'll ~~puke~~ pass.

[Full scoop on the Burns Supper]

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Oops

2007-01-23T20:30:00.000-04:00

I happened across a news article today about Isaiah Washington meeting with the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network on Monday, after getting in trouble for calling his Grey's Anatomy castmate T. R. Knight a faggot. I imagine the whole outrage over the slur is fairly well-known by now. I don't find the fact that he met with the GLSEN particularly impressive, or even interesting.

What did catch my attention, then? Yesterday apparently marked the beginning of "No Name-Calling Week". The purpose is apparently "to help schools find ways to eliminate bullying and slurs of all kinds".

Unfortunately, I read this little tidbit scant moments after calling Terrell Owens a "sorry-ass loud-mouthed self-centered over-inflated gotta-wonder-if-he-has-a-little-dick ASSHAT" in an email to Syd.

What do you expect? No Name-Calling Week or not, that ball-dropping, coach-bashing, morale-eroding, shit-talking, "oh-I-hurt-my- finger"-whining waste of an athlete can choke on that fucking finger of his for all I care.

Obviously, with the exception of that... person... I'd totally honor National No Name-Calling Week. Um, yeah.

Perhaps I should mention that January 31st is National Gorilla Suit Day. It helps to know these things in advance, don't you agree?

Hey, speaking of slurs... it's almost time to watch Paula on American Idol. Heh.

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Idolizing

2007-01-19T13:30:00.000-04:00

As if watching her barefoot on her knees or in that button-popping yellow dress last season on American Idol wasn't enough, I realized today who Katharine McPhee resembles.

I do love me some Jaclyn Smith. Then AND now.

Geeky Goodness

2007-01-15T12:00:00.000-04:00

For those who continue to self-educate.

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Moon Over NC

2007-01-11T01:00:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, there was a gnome; a small, faceless, plumber-buttcrack-showing gnome. Actually, he was supposed to be a mooning gnome, but let's not get into semantics. Recently, said gnome traveled to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for some post-New Year's beachy goodness.

Turned out, he was a lech. Look at him muff diving!

He got his, though. That pelican tapped that shit, yo.

Feeling a little violated (or perhaps in denial of his enjoyment), the gnome indulged in a little beer. Unfortunately, it seemed the little guy had a very low threshold.

Worshipping the beer...

worshipping the porcelain goddess.

Fortunately, as with all ~~gay~~ fairy tales, the gnome made a new friend and enjoyed a happy ending.

Preview

2007-01-05T12:30:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, I purchased this little fellow:

You know, just for the hell of it.

I decided to bring him along for the week of ~~perpetual inebriation~~ ~~drinking games~~ cocktail-enhanced relaxation with our friends at the beach.

Turns out one of my single, male, hetero compadres took a real shine to the gnome. After kicking said compadre's ass in fantasy football AND poker, I needed a new way to torment him. The gnome was the perfect outlet.

I saw this one online this morning. At first, I was pissed that I'd purchased the faceless version with less ass exposure.

On second thought, though, the faceless gnome has been through hell this week. The guy with a face, well, that would be too easy.

Sporks... aren't you glad our little sporky friends DIDN'T make the trip?

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Plotting

2006-12-31T11:15:00.000-04:00

Have you, ever... EVER... had someone describe the plot of a porno movie to you???

It was funny shit.

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Of Literature

2006-12-27T08:30:00.000-04:00

Or more specifically, of John Irving. Many years ago, I lived with a ~~psychotic bitch~~ woman who purported to adore Mr. Irving's writing. Being the accommodating soul that I am, I endeavored to read A Son of the Circus. I didn't care for it. Correction: I fucking HATED it. In fact, it was the one of the very few books I started and never finished (something I've become better at, but still struggle with). Based upon that experience, I subconsciously wrote off Mr. Irving's scribblings as any form of desired reading.

Last night, Suzanne and I watched "The Cider House Rules" on Bravo. After IMDbing the movie to discover who wrote the book, I naturally sniggered that Mr. Irving elected to name the main characters Wilbur and Homer. God, what a lame writer, I thought. The movie, and presumably Mr. Irving's book, cover abortion, adoption, infidelity, and incest.

The movie (and therefore presumably the book?) actually captured my attention. In my opinion, Tobey McGuire was far better in this movie than as Spider-Man. And what's not to like about Charlize Theron? (Well, aside from the blond hair, that is ;p). I watched every moment of the movie, despite the ridiculously frequent and lengthy commercial breaks. Despite the uncomfortable subject matters. Despite my continuing concerns that the outcome would ultimately suck because it was, after all, based upon a novel of John Irving.

I was wrong.

And just FYI, whilst perusing the various Google hits for Mr. Irving, I discovered he is also the author behind such theatrical (and, again presumably, literary) successes as The World According to Garp and A Prayer for Owen Meany.

I figure I owe him that much of a nod. As for reading those books, well, the jury's still out.

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Merry F'ing Christmas

2006-12-26T13:30:00.000-04:00

Now this, THIS is a Christmas gift for lesbians.

Nice, eh? If for some ~~crazy, ridiculous, idiotic~~ reason that image doesn't appeal to you, try this one: it was a gift from Suzanne's sister, the former nun. And we opened it in front of her mother.

If that image does work for you, there are others. Enjoy.

A Different Kind of Pod

2006-12-18T23:30:00.000-04:00

I've spent a lot of time in recent weeks downloading MP3 files of my favorite songs. Yes, I'm late to the MP3 party, but I've been making up for lost time since being gifted with a cute little iPod shuffle of my own (she's a nice girlfriend, ya'll). I have to admit, I really like the organization and ease of use associated with Apple's iTunes. iTunes, however, must be downloaded and installed for use, and that's something I cannot do on my work computer. (I know; our IT department has WAY too much control.)

I also discovered that songs I purchase from iTunes are MP4 files, and it's a real bitch to successfully convert them in order to access them via any medium other than iTunes. While wending my way around these little obstacles (and also seeking less expensive alternatives), I came across this little graphic from emusic.com:

Fallopian Tubes, anybody? C'mon, it doesn't take a lesbian to see THAT.

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The Memory of Trees*

2006-12-16T11:30:00.000-04:00

*Forgive the Enya reference. Yes, that's what that is. Stop laughing.

The problem with trees is they have leaves.

The problem with leaves is they fall.

The problem with fallen leaves is they inhibit the growth of grass. And make the yard look like crap.

The problem with fallen leaves in suburbia is one can not rake or blow the fuckers to the woods or whatever. One must break one's back bagging them.

One must get off her ass and go deal with the leaves.

Ah well, at least it isn't so damned cold today.

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Crafty

2006-12-14T13:00:00.000-04:00

Okay, so it's been a lame week for posting here at Wannabe. Sue me. In lieu of my usual oh-so-meaningful and well-crafted bullshit, however, I offer this:

I know some of ya'll can relate.

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Of Small-town Learnin'... Or Good Guesswork

2006-12-09T15:00:00.000-04:00

Snagged from Sassy:

You paid attention during 91% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Create a Quiz

But, as often happens, I couldn't stop with just one...
Terns owt eye no mai grammar.

Your Language Arts Grade: 100%

Way to go! You know not to trust the MS Grammar Check and you know "no" from "know." Now, go forth and spread the good word (or at least, the proper use of apostrophes).

Are You Gooder at Grammar?
Make a Quiz

Just Another Day in the Office

2006-12-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

One of the (female, slutty) people with disabilities whom my agency serves was in the office today. Specifically, she was in the office next to mine, meeting with her case manager. One of my other (male, cute) staff happened to stop in to ask a question.

PwD: Do you have a girlfriend?

Staff: Uh. Yes. Yes, I have many acquaintances that are female. [pause] Um, do you mean a special someone...?

PwD: I mean someone you have sex with.

He bolted. Fortunately, she didn't chase him.

No Secret?

2006-12-06T23:00:00.000-04:00

Commercial Announcer: Up next, the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show*, with special appearance by Justin Timberlake.
Suz: I don't want to watch that.
Wen: WHAT?
Suz: Justin Timberlake, I mean. Women in sexy underwear, I'm okay with.

*Sorry, ladies (and dudes), this was TUESDAY night.

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Playing with Dolls

2006-12-05T00:00:00.000-04:00

Okay... maybe this isn't news to some of you (hi, Sassy!), but I haven't paid much attention to Barbie in the last thirty years or so. I had heard of the existence of an African American Barbie, but I either never saw or never absorbed the actual product:

Um, she's supposed to be black? Funny, she kinda reminds me of this Hawaiian chick from Season 3 of American Idol (2004).

And then there's this Barbie, apparently named the Barbie My Scene Bling Bling Styling Head. (Yeah, there's an "African American" version of her, too, named Madison. I'm not sure who she reminds me of.) Yeah, kinda skanky. Yeah, kinda hot... but awfully femmy.

I can totally see both of them telling Ken to "step off," so they can hook up with the dyke doll. Niiiice.

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Book... Rest

2006-12-03T17:00:00.000-04:00

Rest: a piece or thing for something to rest on; a supporting device; support

Rest: the refreshing quiet or repose of sleep; mental or spiritual calm; tranquillity; cessation or absence of motion

It's Dud's version of multi-tasking.

Socializin' in the South... Small-Town Style

2006-12-02T00:30:00.000-04:00

While visiting my parents in Texas, I had the good fortune to join them for an early Thanksgiving meal at the local Senior Center. (My mother is the former Board President, dontchaknow.) Anyway, we had a relatively decent meal of turkey, dressing, sweet potato casserole, green beans, cranberry sauce, and sweet tea. While always mildly uncomfortable due to my sinful lesbian status when in the midst of what constitutes a fair portion of my mother's social circle, I DO enjoy some of the socialization amongst ~~the old farts~~ my elders.

The afternoon in question happened to coincide with the culmination of a season's worth of competition on Dancing with the Stars. The table was abuzz with opinions of whether Mario Lopez or Emmitt Smith would win. One woman seemed particularly adamant that Emmitt held far greater appeal:

Older men know enough to make sure the woman is satisfied, too!

I'm so glad the whole table erupted in laughter, because I was a laughing fool.

When the meal was finally over, the seniors--and my familial unit--began to disperse. My father stopped to speak with a man who hadn't had the good fortune to dine at my table. I didn't hear what my father actually said to the old guy, but when Daddy turned to me for introductions he stated he was teasing "Jim" because Jim was a newlywed. Jim then piped up, informing me he'd been married before, for 56 years, until his wife passed away three years ago. When he said, "I didn't really want to get married again," I quipped, "What, she wouldn't shack up?"

Ever seen an elderly man blush?

Thank God my mother didn't hear that exchange. Daddy laughed.

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Tut

2006-11-28T01:00:00.000-04:00

Wen (Reading a headline): "Broken leg may have killed Tutankhamun."
Suz (Laughs): Really?
Wen: I was absolutely fascinated with King Tut as a child. It started with a jigsaw puzzle of his gold coffin.
Suz: I find that whole era fascinating. Did you see the King Tut exhibit?
Wen: No, but I owned the Steve Martin reco rd.

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Keeping Up with the Joneses

2006-11-25T14:00:00.000-04:00

Run, don't walk to your nearest eclectic vendor of beverages: The 2006 Jones Soda Holiday Pack is out! (Um, okay, it has been for a couple of weeks. Sue me.) Flavors this year include Turkey and Gravy, Pea, Sweet Potato, Dinner Roll, and, appropriately enough, Antacid. There's a Dessert Pack too, in case you haven't sufficiently upset your stomach. And hey, if you really want to submit something icky, there's even a "suggest a flavor" link at the website.

Although you may rest assured that I will not be partaking of these "original" beverages, don't dismiss them out of hand. In addition to the excellent gift potential for "special" people in your life, a portion of the proceeds do go to Toys for Tots. If you're really in to this kind of crap, you can order your own personalized 12-pack for a mere $35 dollars (plus S&H, of course).

Or, better yet, save on shipping and donate $35 worth of toys to needy kids this year.

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Lesson Number Two

2006-11-22T13:30:00.000-04:00

What's that? You missed the message in Lesson Number One? Muscle cars RULE. And sometimes 'necks prevail. Since ya'll aren't too sharp at determining the main theme of a story, I'll tell ya the point of Lesson Number Two: DVR is both a blessing and a curse.

My mother, bless her heart, loves her toys. (Don't EVEN go there, she's 71 and I don't wanna think about it. STFU, Kmae!) The toys of which I speak are electronics. She's always been a gadget junky. From early model personal computers and CB radios to color copiers and atomic clocks, MotherWhit has always been quick to purchase the latest technological innovation. (Although, for some reason DSL has only recently replaced dial-up. Wtf? Ah well, better late than never!)

My point? MotherWhit is the Queen of DVR.

Like all DVR users, my mother records shows she would like to see when she cannot be home. Like many DVR users, she will also record one show while watching another. I wonder, though, how many DVR users routinely back up a program every single time the viewer misses something of interest? After 9/11, if Mother happened to miss the singing of the national anthem at the start of a baseball game, she'd back up the DVR and watch it. If she, or more likely my daddy, didn't hear a clever quip or key line in whatever show, MotherWhit would back it up and replay it.

I witnessed this while home this past week during the Late Show with David Letterman. Mother wasn't paying much attention to the music act, as +44 is not exactly her preferred genre. When Dave started talking about the drummer (who totally rocked), however, MotherWhit obviously had to back it up so she could watch his one-handed (by choice, not physical disability) performance. All in all, pretty cool.

On the downside of DVR employment, though, is my mother recorded and saved one of Rachel Ray's talk show episodes that involved creating a pot from a roll of tickets.

Why is that a downside to DVR, you ask? Because that roll of tickets required a LOT of manipulation in order to resemble a pot, and I was the designated manipulator. Thanks, RR. Damned DVR.

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Lesson Number One

2006-11-15T23:00:00.000-04:00

I have two brothers, one of whom is a certified redneck. I can offer his accent, gun collection, beer belly, wardrobe of camouflage and coveralls, and multiple vehicles in various stages of being re-outfitted in the "yard" as evidence. (No Syd, there are no chickens... that I know of... but there's a pot-bellied pig--a one-time house pet--that now lives in fetid squalor in the back yard and has to weigh almost as much as a cow). I couldn't tell you how many dogs and cats are roaming around their place. Oh - he also used to live in a trailer but actually made good on the poor white trash dream of living in a trailer just long enough to make enough money to build his own home. He's damned handy, that 'neck brother of mine.

Anyway, "Red" very recently purchased a local auto repair shop in his little hick town. He continues to work fulltime at the chemical refinery he's worked at for the last fifteen years or so; he hired my other brother and also kept the former mechanic on to do the actual repair work. All of this is actually pretty cool in my family. Red has a new business; other brother has a job he loves; and nephew is picking up some new skills in his free time. Red's wife has been an active participant in marketing the new business. I learned this today upon my first visit to the shop, where I was given key rings, pens, and magnets advertising the new venture.

As I was surveying Red's new domain, my eyes landed on a photo of his wife posing with an unknown man in racing paraphernalia in what was clearly some sort of racing venue. I gestured at the picture and asked who it was. "Your sister-in-law," Red replied dryly. Then he went on to educate me: the unknown racer in the picture is drag racing star Tony Schumacher. Apparently Mr. Schumacher is the shit on the "NHRA circuit" and the pic of my SIL standing arm-in-arm with him is something akin to hugging Reba McEntire or Hank Williams, Jr. at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Red was about as animated as I've ever seen him (sober) while talking about the drag racing. His evident pride in the photo, however, quickly diminished when the topic turned to the marketing efforts. It seems my SIL ordered the wrong calendars: Classic cars instead of Muscle cars.

I might not know much about NASCAR or NHRA, but in this instance my brother and I were in accord. Muscle cars are more appealing.

Southern Accent, Here I Come

2006-11-15T08:15:00.000-04:00

I'm off to Texas to visit the famdamily for a few short days. Ya'll have fun now, y'hear?

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Gift Idea?

2006-11-13T23:00:00.000-04:00

I gotta ask "why"... but I DID laugh. Hell, I guess that's reason enough.

Thank God Dudley doesn't behave so... he'd hurt his back.

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Out of the Closet

2006-11-05T12:00:00.000-04:00

Today was a day of much needed organization. Each year around this time I take on the task of converting the closets and drawers to winter apparel. I decided this weekend was the time, as we had our first "freeze" and I'm ready to trust that I won't see 70 on the thermometer again until April. In the previous few weeks, we've experienced what is fairly typical early fall weather for this area: some days hovering in the 40-degree range, others climbing to near 80. One natural consequence of such capricious weather is the need for greater shoe diversity. Boots mingled with sandals in an alarming display of disarray.

Really, the knowledge that one of my place-for-everything-and- everything-in-its-place compadres (and her shoe-flinging partner) will be visiting next weekend wasn't an influencing factor at all. Heh.

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Public Service Advisory

2006-11-02T23:00:00.000-04:00

Liberation from nasty public facilities (and poorly maintained private ones, Deborah) has arrived! Fear the empty toilet paper holder no more!
That's right. Your own personal roll of TP, sized for convenience. You can buy it at REI, or order it here. I assume it's squeezably soft... and since it's your personal roll, Mr. Whipple can shut the hell up.

I learned of the existence of this product from Suzanne's mother, but had to Google for some time to find the actual name (memory like a steel trap, I have). For your own search engine awareness, "travel size toilet paper" yielded the product of interest. "Personal toilet paper" and "portable toilet paper" most decidedly did not.

Instead, I found this personal toilet, useful "during all crucial moments as in the cars, private planes, dirty toilets, or camping". Um, think I'll pass. Even in conjunction with this classy privacy shelter (that "pops up in seconds, not minutes,") no.

There was also the bumper dumper. Definitely not, despite the amusing and descriptive name... or the feasibility anywhere "a sanitation situation may occur".

And, although I may wish for a larger bladder on occasion, I never considered the benefits of a spare one. That's not just any spare bladder, either: "Special granular polymer inside each pouch soaks up contents and converts it instantly into a scent-neutralizing gel".

I'm not particularly inclined to avail myself of these other conveniences, but ya'll feel free to do so if hiking or emergency preparedness is your thing.

And go ahead, squeeze the Charmin. It's yours.

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Nothing Like Authenticity

2006-10-30T23:30:00.000-04:00

Once monthly, my agency coordinates a social outing for the the people with disabilities (PwD) we serve. Movies, miniature golf, dinner, Six Flags, Dave & Buster's... you get the idea. In October, a Halloween party is the logical, minimal-effort activity. This year, tonight in fact, the party took the form of pizza, treats, painting small gourds, and a costume contest.

One PwD wanted to attend but told her case manager she didn't feel she could spend money on a costume. The staff person, one I've raved about before, suggested creativity could substitute for expense. After some discussion, the PwD agreed that masquerading as a baby sounded like fun... but she wasn't sure how to go about it.

Staff: Well, we can put your hair in pigtails, draw freckles on your face... and you can carry a stuffed animal or a baby rattle. Oh, and you can wrap a big white towel around you like a diaper.

PwD: Why don't I just put one of my own diapers on outside of my pants?

Damned if she didn't do it, too. When the other PwDs voted, she won for best costume.

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'Tis the Season

2006-10-28T07:30:00.000-04:00

I couldn't help but laugh.

The slogan, For any time of the month, is inspired... but this weekend seems particularly appropriate timing for this.

Happy Halloween, ladies. If you're feeling artsy-craftsy, Gunfighter, you can play too. ;p

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Three Dog Night

2006-10-22T20:30:00.000-04:00

Heh. Turns out Suzanne was right: it's the chair that's a dog magnet. Did I mention Bonnie is staying with us again?

I was... um... watching Detroit get spanked Saturday night in Game One of the World Series.

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In the Round

2006-10-19T19:30:00.000-04:00

Recently, Suzanne has been playing CDs in the office whilst pursuing her many computer-related interests. Anna Nalick had been spinning for several days when I mentioned that I liked it. Suzanne promptly burned a copy for me, then asked if I wanted the song titles. I responded affirmatively, assuming she would write them on the paper insert that comes with writable discs. I didn't know that she had acquired new cd cases. I also didn't realize they were round, a fact that sorta precludes using the standard paper insert unless one elects to undertake modification.

Her solution? "I wrote in the round for you!" she exclaimed.

I suppose the inconvenience of actually ejecting the disc if I want to see the title of a track is a small price to pay for her efforts.

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Falling... or Not

2006-10-15T17:30:00.000-04:00

Oh, the joys of Autumn: brisk days of bright sunlight and beautiful blue skies, evenings turning cold enough to permit me to indulge my pyromaniacal tendencies, and beautiful fall foliage... until it all falls. I wonder if I'm the only one that starts the damned raking season by raking the roof?

Here's another shot of the pile of pine needles. Why yes, yes those are the twin sheds that can be seen in the background. Magnificent, aren't they? And so soundly constructed!

The raking of the shingles was only the precursor to clearing the gutters, of course.

Yes, Weese, I know - there are trees yet to be trimmed and grass yet to be grown. It's a process, mmkay?

No, Sporks and Scout, I was NOT (yet) drinking when I went on the roof.

No, Syd, I did not throw crap from the gutters at the neighbor's cat - or Suzanne.

See the chimney?

Of course you do. Look closely, though... do you see it?

This weed, at least, was taken care of.

My Woman...

2006-10-14T20:00:00.000-04:00

...is a Dog Hog.

But they do all seem pretty content.

Of Birds and Bees

2006-10-12T21:00:00.000-04:00

According to the brainiacs at the Museum of Natural History at the University of Oslo, human homosexuality cannot be considered "unnatural". Indeed, it seems the museum is opening the world's first exhibition about homosexuality among animals. That's right, folks. God bless the Norwegians, who are affirming that giraffes, swans, and whales--amongst other critters--enjoy some same-sex lovin'.

"We may have opinions on a lot of things, but one thing is clear -- homosexuality is found throughout the animal kingdom, it is not against nature," an exhibit statement said.

That's nice to hear, isn't it? But it gets even better:

"The sexual urge is strong in all animals. ... It's a part of life, it's fun to have sex," Soeli said of the reasons for homosexuality or bisexuality among animals.

Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about! Sex is fun! (Duh.)

Seriously, both the exhibit and the article interested me. The exhibit, because it never occurred to me that other species practice same-sex sex... and the article, because it truly astounds me that two male giraffes engaging in anal sex could be trumpeted as a defense of the "unnatural" life I live.

Of course, the braniacs couldn't be satisfied with a "hey, it's natural after all" conclusion, because nature has to follow the rules of genetic evolution.

Still, it is unclear why homosexuality survives since it seems a genetic dead-end.

Among theories, males can sometimes win greater acceptance in a pack by having homosexual contact. That in turn can help their chances of later mating with females, he said.

And a study of homosexual men in Italy suggested that their mothers and sisters had more offspring. "The same genes that give homosexuality in men could give higher fertility among women," he said.

Naturally.

Mmmmm, Salt

2006-10-11T21:00:00.000-04:00

Courtesy of Sporks, and The Onion. I'd be ALL OVER this if it were more than a creative image:

"Blast Your Bloodstream!"

Ah, well, a girl can dream...

Giggle

2006-10-07T10:00:00.000-04:00

I know it's too early to count the Damn Yankees out, but it pleases me no end to read an ESPN headline entitled, "Bronx Bummers".

The vaunted Yankees lineup have gone 14 straight innings without scoring a run against Detroit.

Friday night:
The poor little Yanks went 0 for 8 with runners in scoring position.
They were shut out by Kenny Rogers, who just ain't all that.
The "Big Unit" Randy Johnson gave up 5 earned runs.
Damon, A-Rod, Giambi, Abreu, and Bernie Williams all went 0-fer in the game.

I'd only be happier if Jeter had done the same... or if last night's game had shut the door on the Yanks' season.

Instead, I'll cringe my way through this afternoon's game.

Update, for any who didn't hear our victory cheer: The Yankees lost 3-8, and are now done with baseball until next season. YeeFuckin'Haw!

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Time for a Meme*

2006-10-06T20:00:00.000-04:00

*Subtitle: 'cause I love music.

That's right, I'm too ~~lazy~~ ~~uninspired~~ tired to write original text, so I swiped a meme from SassyFemme.

Here are the rules: List seven songs you are in to right now. No matter what the genre, whether or not they have words, or even if they're not any good... they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions on your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

"Crazy On You", live recording by Heart. The Road Home was a cd I once owned but was a casualty of my previous relationship. Now that I've re-obtained it through Amazon.com, I've been playing the hell out of it. Ann Wilson can belt.

"Fuck was I", Jenny Owen Youngs. Discovered via Occasional Bitch, the song immediately became a new old favorite of mine.

"Orinoco Flow", by Enya. I love this song and play it often as a "pick me up". Yeah, Enya. Shut up.

"Tear in your Hand", by Tori Amos. If you don't know Tori, or Little Earthquakes, you're missing out.

"The Logical Song", by Supertramp. Always a favorite, and particularly meaningful when responsibilities are such a burden.

"What the What is Ladylike", by Storm Large. I didn't have to watch Rock Star: Supernova because Sporks kept me in the loop. Whatever on Fire, indeed!

"Because of You", by Kelly Clarkson. Yes, I'll cop to this one, too. I own, and enjoy, her music. This song in particular. And not just because I'm a sap for a good ballad.

I'm not going to "tag" anyone... if you want to do it, do it. :)

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Wannabe Word Cloud

2006-10-04T19:00:00.000-04:00

I'm following in Syd's footsteps, but you can get your own "Word Cloud" here.

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Music to my Mouth

2006-10-03T22:00:00.000-04:00

Chipotle, within five blessed minutes of home.

When In Rome...

2006-10-01T13:30:00.000-04:00

We've had a guest doggy in the house the past week... not such a bad thing. Bonnie is a little more active than Dud, so Pixie's been getting her play on. Bonnie also doesn't seem to mind that Pix wants to chew her ears off. Actually, she's pretty sweet in general. She comes when we call her, likes to cuddle, and doesn't get on the furniture. Well, that's what her dad said, anyway. I guess it must be our influence.

Since I cropped my salt shaker out of the picture, let me just add that the bitch is SO in my spot on the couch.

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All Kinds of WRONG

2006-09-30T15:45:00.000-04:00

Thanks, I'll stick to cereal.

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