I Took the Weekend Off from Blogging

Since I write most of my posts the night before, this means I didn’t blog Friday night or Saturday night.  To be perfectly honest, if I weren’t into my second third glass of scotch and waiting for the oven to heat up so I can indulge in a hot apple turnover alá commode, I probably wouldn’t be blogging on a Sunday night.  But, Beloved is on his way out of town again, after a mere 26 hours at home and I don’t want him to be gone.  It was rather nice having him in bed Saturday night, if the truth be told.  I won’t embarrass anyone by going into details about what happened in said bed, since our kids do read my blog – Hi, y’all! – but let’s just say he was as happy to be there as I was to have him.

Melancholy.  I has it.

Blogging is a good way to deal with it.

Anyhoo, Beloved got home at 2:00 p.m. Saturday; that night we had reservations at Podunk’s “only 5 star restaurant” – they have REAL cloth napkins, don’t you know – and tickets to see Ron White at the Podunk Civic Center, which seats all of 4,000 if you put folding chairs on the floor.

Such a bustling metropolis.

Mr. White, for the most part, was quite funny…if you like middle-aged, foul-mouthed Texans with a penchant for Scotch and cigars.  (Oh, wait – that pretty much describes me.  Hmmmm.  Well, at least I no longer smoke.)  Seriously, though, some of his stuff – like a great many other comedians – relied far too much on juvenile sexual humor and a Lenny Bruce-like love of the “F Word”, but for the most part he was truly funny.  His bit about his first encounter with a bidet – with a heated seat, no less – made me laugh until I cried.

I wish we could say we were just as happy with our dinner, but alas, no.  The service sucked (we never saw a bread basket, the waiter didn’t ask us if we wanted anything to drink beyond our initial cocktail orders, didn’t even bother to refill our water glasses and I practcally had to beg for wine to go with our meal), the water and wine glasses were filthy, our appetizers were appallingly undercooked and it took forever for our entreés to arrive (they, surprisingly, were quite good).  Beloved, who never tips under 20%, left less than 10% and reduced the maitre’d to a quivering, blubbering mass of protoplasm when the man asked us how we enjoyed our meal as we left.

Now hush – if you’d paid $120 for a dinner that only included 2 small glasses of single malt scotch, one glass of wine and NO dessert, you’d bite off the head of anyone who asked you how your meal was, too.  It was especially disappointing because 1) we go out so seldom and 2) it was Beloved’s only night home in two weeks.

Oh, well, we had a good time at the show, although we both prefer a smaller venue for stand up comedy, and came home to persue, er, other entertainment.  Which included watching The Incredible Hulk – not bad despite the fact that Liv Tyler completely lived down up to my expectations.  Sunday morning we slept in until 9:00 a.m. (practically unheard of) and then watched Mel Brook’s The Producers with The Young One while I made brunch (eggs, bacon, butter fried potatoes and southwestern spoon bread; you know our arteries just love us, yes they do).  That’s what The Young One gets for asking me what my favorite comedy film is.  And I’m gratified to announce that he laughed all the way through it, including my favorite lines:

“You can’t shoot the actors!  They’re not animals – they’re human beings!”

“Oh yeah?  Have you ever eaten with one?”

Why that is my favorite line is a long story.  I’ll write about it one day.

After that, I fell asleep on the sofa while Beloved watched the Cowboys game.  The fact that I was unconscious for the duration is the only explanation for their 4 point victory.  In fact, I woke up once, briefly, only to have Beloved exclaim, “We’re winning!!  Go back to sleep!!”

So I did.  Gladly.  Do you realize how often I get to take a nap??  Yeah, well, you’d take advantage of it, too.

By 4:15 we were on our way to Cleveland so he could fly to Nebraska.  To make matters worse so much more exciting, we have a chance of snow through Wednesday.

Snow.

I’m so thrilled.

Not.

I Am the Kiss of Death

To the Dallas Cowboys.

My first marriage was riddled with many problems, not the least of which was my love of football.

The Ex, you see, is the “creative, sensitive” type, and loathes sports.  Particularly football.  So, I didn’t get to watch a lot of football during our 12-year marriage.  And since I didn’t get to watch football, the Cowboys were the best team in the league and won three Super Bowls in 4 years.

I missed it all.  Thank you, The Ex.

Oh, I’ve been around in the years since, and have watched those marvelous players go on to highly successful post-football careers – Troy Aikman is one of the most objective and enjoyable commentators in sports television.  Emmett Smith won Dancing with the Stars.  Dion Sanders managed to find the most hideous tailor on the planet.  But the team since?

They suck.

And I’m convinced it’s because I’ve been watching.  Honestly, it’s like a switch was thrown – Jan’s married and can’t watch, the Cowboys win.  Jan gets divorced and begins watching obsessively, the Cowboys lose.  You think I’m joking?  Okay – so explain the Cleveland Browns since I’ve moved to Ohio.

See what I mean?  Just my nearness is enough to ensure crappy coaching and fumble-fingered players.

Perhaps the interests of the NFC East would be better served if I became a die-hard New York Giants fan.  After all, my desire to see the New England Patriots have a perfect season last year is the only reason the Giants won the Super Bowl.

*POP* Goes the Culture

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m so sick of politics and so ready for this mother-effing election to be over with I could just scream.  Or puke.  Or do both at the same time – it’d certainly be more enjoyable than all of this CRAP.  I’m tired of being beaten over the head with opposing viewpoints every time I turn around, and I’m tired of walking on eggshells so I don’t offend anyone by – gasp – disagreeing with them.  And living in a “battleground state” just makes it worse because you are absolutely bombarded 24/7 with political ads.  I am so sick of the whole three-ring circus, as a matter of fact, that I fell asleep during the debates last night.

Oh, yes I did.

Speaking of screaming and puking (and let’s throw a little hair-yanking in there, too), is anyone else just as tickled as me to see that the “bailout” plan congress passed is working so well?

*headdesk*

*repeatedly*

On a lighter note, we watched Iron Man this week and loved it despite the fact I usually can’t stand the sight of Robert Downey Jr. and wondered just why the hell Gwyneth Paltrow would do such a fluff little part.  I mean, isn’t that why we have “actresses” like Liv Tyler?  (Another celebrity I generally cannot stand the sight of.)  I am now waiting for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull to be released on DVD, despite the lackluster reviews, as well as The Incredible Hulk, WALL*E and The Dark Knight.  Because I love adding movies to my collection…and I have a great big soft spot for comic books.

Although not a big enough soft spot to actually watch either of the Fantastic Four movies.  I have some self-respect, you know.

As for literature, I finished the fourth book in Beverly Lewis’ Abram’s Daughters series.  My, oh, my – the Amish plot just thickens all over the place.  The last book is going to have to wait, though, because I am now well into the second book in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series.  I can see why the books are popular to the point they’d make a movie out of at least the first one, but Harry Potter they ain’t.  Not by a long shot.  They don’t have the magic (and I don’t mean the “spell casting” kind) of the HP books – just a lot of contrived teenage romance and foreshadowing so heavy-handed that you know exactly what’s going to happen next.  As for the “new twists” to the vampire legend, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro has her beat all to hell and back in that regard.  However, they are a quick read and engrossing enough to justify buying the third and fourth in the series so I can read them before the movie comes out in November.

Since its release bumped Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince back to next summer.

Bastards.

Just When You Think You Have Nothing To Blog About

Note: It will really help make this post funnier if you read it to yourself in a slightly inebriated, Texas accent.  So you can get the full effect and all.

I went to bed worried last night because I’d pretty much shot my wad yesterday with the Halloween reminiscences.  I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write about today.  In fact, it worried me so much I dreamt last night that I would blog about meeting Carole, who is really an odd duck, while I was in Texas recently.  The problem is, I haven’t been in Texas for over a year and don’t know anyone named Carole, strange waterfowl or not.

At any rate, I was saved from my bloggy dilemma this morning when I picked up my glasses to put them on my face, just like I do every morning, and they fell apart.  My $450, lineless, scratch-resistant bifocals, without which I can’t see doodly-squat.  Panicking, I grabbed an old pair of reading glasses I had stashed in my nightstand, threw $2 at The Young One for lunch, told him to eat cereal for breakfast, and sat down at the dining room table (which doubles as my desk) to try and remedy the situation.

With a butter knife.

Because I’m just handy that way.

First off, butter knives don’t work real well on those tiny little screws that hold glasses together.  Second of all, you never really realize just how filthy your carpet is until you get down on your hands and knees to look for that tiny little screw you just dropped on the floor.  Needless to say, I could not find the tiny little screw, although I did find some dandy filth, so I scrounged up another pair of old reading glasses (before I swallowed my pride and got bifocals, I had 132 pair of $3 reading glasses stashed all over the house, which irritated Beloved to no end because they were all pink or purple and he felt like a fool using them), and immediately broke them trying to figure out how to get one of the tiny little screws out.  Which was fine, really, because the tiny little screw just fell out on the table in front of me.  Having learned my lesson, I put it in a plastic, ziplock sandwich bag along with the lense and frames and took them to the office with me.

While there are some things that irritate the bejebus out of me about being the only woman in the office – no one ever notices when you’re wearing a cute new outfit and the only time they comment on your haircut is when it’s awful – most of the time it’s a good thing because as a group, men are really handy with tools.  When you work in an office full of geeks, they can be REALLY handy with tools, especially small, precision tools that need to be used with tiny little screws that hold your bifocals together.  So I handed my plastic, ziplock sandwich bag to TC – *waves frantically* Hi, TC! (he and his wife read my blog) – and asked him if he could help.  Whereupon he rolled his eyes, muttered “What, AGAIN???” under his breath and then announced he’d be pleased as punch to help.

So, I wandered off to my office, secure in the knowledge that I’d left my vision in the capable hands of a computer nerd.  A little while later, during my daily quest for morning coffee, I passed TC’s office.   He was on his hands and knees under his desk – apparently, hideous indoor/outdoor carpet isn’t any more conducive to finding tiny little screws than filthy, cream-colored deep pile.

Eventually, TC went to his car, found a pair of his own old glasses and disassembled them, using one of the tiny little screws to fix my bifocals.

That’s loyalty.

Or fear of unemployment.

Anyhoo, not too long after I had my bifocals back on my face where they belonged, I got a call from the school nurse saying The Young One had been in her office twice complaining of fatigue and a headache, but he had no fever.  He’s not the kind of kid to play sick, so I brought him home – and he’s slept all day on the sofa and is now feverish.

That’s what I get for forcing store-brand Froot Loops and cafeteria food on him, being the sorry excuse of a (blind) mother that I am.  Not to mention the last time he was sick I got a cataclysmic case of the flu.  For the first time in five years.

And I had the day from hell in the office.  You don’t even want to know.

And Beloved’s out of town on business AGAIN.

Couple all of this with a rip-roaring case of PMS and it should explain why I’ve had three glasses of shiraz, four fun-sized Snicker bars, two pieces of cornbread and a healthy plate of Double Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper.

And am doing my Scarlett O’Hare impression…’cuz, hon, tomorrow is another day.  Thank gawd.

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I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you you have till 11:59 EDT tomorrow to leave me a comment and/or link from your blog for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com.

I’d also like to take another opportunity to tell you to hop right on over to After the Dust Settles – Lynn is giving away two of her adorable piggy banks.

Or, if you prefer, you can visit Thursday Drive and enter for your chance to win a $25 gift card to Build-A-Bear.  At least take a look at that absolutely creepy baby doll she posted about today.

It’s just one big Giveaway-a-rama in the blogosphere this week.

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I also have a couple of shout-outs.

Plungergirl – A fellow texpatriate, she’s an extremely opinionated, intelligent young woman with a sinkful of dishes and a houseful of pets.  If she weren’t married already I’d introduce her to Oldest Son.

Nothing Fancy – she may be a Redskins fan, but seems to be all right despite that.  I think we may be able to get past our little football differences.  At least once the Super Bowl is over.

Haute Flash Contessa – one visit to her blog and she had me laughing so hard I just had to add her to my blogroll.

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And that is all for tonight folks.  I’ll be back tomorrow with some Friday Randomness.

If I don’t break my bifocals again.

Boo, Y’all

As you might be able to tell from my new look, I love Halloween.  In fact, everyone in my family loves it, and it was my mother’s favorite holiday, probably because it was the one time of the year she had a legitimate excuse to buy bags and bags of bite-sized Snickers and Almond Joys for at least a month – and all on sale.  Our family always went all-out for Halloween, decorating the house and front porch within an inch of our lives for the benefit of trick-or-treaters, while dressing up like extras from Night of the Living Dead when we gave out candy.  Because you know there’s nothing like making a 3-year-old in a bed sheet wet his pants while he runs back to his mother, traumatized to the point where years of therapy become necessary.

One year, when my grandparents were decorating for the Big Event, my grandfather decided a noose would be the perfect addition – just what they needed to create the right kind of ambiance.  However, he didn’t take two important factors into consideration:  the fact their porch was four feet off of the ground and the stupidity of kids in general.  Yes, some moron of a darling child stuck his stupid head through the stupid noose and lept off the porch.  Don’t worry, he was fine, although my grandparents needed a stiff drink afterwards – and they didn’t drink.  I suppose you could say it was a fitting payback for all of those 3-year-olds in bed sheets.  It was also the end of the noose as decor.

Halloween was so much fun when I was a kid – we began to anticipate it as soon as school let back in.  By the first of October, things were reaching a fever pitch as we began to plan our costumes and plot out our trick-or-treat routes.  I don’t think I knew a kid whose parents actually bought them a costume; no siree, we put those puppies together ourselves, begging and borrowing anything we could get from our parents, relatives, siblings and friends.  At one point I was so tickled with my costume that I went trick-or-treating as Harpo Marx for three years straight.  Nor did I ever own one of those silly plastic pumpkins to carry my candy around in – I by golly took a king-sized pillow case.

When I was a kid, we could actually wear our costumes to school on The Big Day.  When we got home, we pestered our moms relentlessly to COOK DINNER because we knew we weren’t stepping foot out that front door until we’d at least made a pretense of eating.  Then we’d converge on the neighborhood – the one we actually lived in, thank you very much – and went to every single house.  We met our friends and compared costumes and swapped treats and stayed up late and made ourselves sick on candy and it was wonderful.

By the time I had children things were starting to change – we NEVER let them trick-or-treat by themselves, we checked their candy before they were allowed to eat it (some hospitals even offered to x-ray it to make sure nothing was lurking in it that wasn’t supposed to be there), we only went to houses that had the porch lights on, and there were zealously religious households that blared Christian music and handed out tracts telling us how we were all going burn in Hell for allowing our kids to dress up like a Ghostbuster and a ballerina and have a little fun.  We knew people who took their kids to “rich” neighborhoods so they could get “good” candy – some of these neighborhoods were so overwhelmed by people from all over the place that no one could drive a car on the streets and some even had to have police come out to direct pedestrian traffic.  But it was still Halloween, and still fun.

We don’t decorate now that we’re in Ohio, although we can – and do – program the doorbell to scream for a month.  We give out candy, although the trick-or-treaters are few and far between.  Why?  Because they have completely bastardized the damn holiday, that’s why.  Here in Podunk, kids don’t trick-or-treat on Halloween – they trick-or-treat between 3 and 5 in the afternoon on the Sunday BEFORE Halloween.  It’s horrible.  Atrocious. Disgusting.  Pathetic.  It’s downright un-American.

It’s just no fun anymore.

So Let’s Have a Contest!

Leave me a comment and tell me about your favorite Halloween memory and you’ll have a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com.  Mention my contest and link to my blog from your blog and you’ll be entered twice.  The contest is open until 11:59 EDT Friday night, October 3, and I’ll announce the winner Monday morning, October 6.