Monday, June 26, 2006

PantryMutha: The Obstacle Course

Time for another installment of Muthafunga/Pantrygirl antics.

Yesterday, I accidently came across a marathon on ESPN 2 of The Ultimate Obstacle Course. This competition was held in Japan and had several elimination rounds that culminated in a final round which tested every competitors upper body strength.

When my brother and I were kids, we found countless ways to entertain ourselves. Being the obsessive compulsive person that I am, every play event involved 30-40 minutes of setup before actual play. I don’t know how my brother was so patient with me but he was. He even involved himself in the setup.

As kids, our grandparents took care of us while our parents worked. This left us with free reign when it came to setting up our own obstacle courses. Couch cushions, sheets, fans, folding chairs, banisters and even the attic were all parts of our play area. Every pillow in the house was used at some point. Every table was draped with a sheet. Some sheeted tables and chairs had fans to create wind tunnels.

One of our favorite spots was our attic. My dad used to have a wooden foldable ladder that allowed us easy access up and down. He later took it down. He said it had to do with a housing code violation but I think it had to do with the fact my brother and I kept climbing up in there.

Well the attic had another exit for extremely nimble kids like ourselves and luckily it was in my bedroom which later became my brothers. It was in the closet. The upper shelf of the closet had an opening into the attic that was covered by wood slates. Of course we took the slates out.

We set up lamps and other kid friendly items up in the attic. It became a little hiding nook for us. I loved searching through my dad’s old books and my old clothes and toys. There were also neatly stacked luggage and trunks that contained my grandparent’s old items. They were always locked and I would imagine what types of treasure might be inside. I’d later learn they were stuffed with old receipts and checks. My granddad was a bit of a packrat in addition to an obsessive compulsive. With all the dust, dirt, nails and what other dangerous items up there, I can’t believe we survived with minor injuries.

Funny thing is, when I sit and think about those times my brother and I created obstacle courses and mazes, all I can do is think about his smile and his round face. I don’t recall the angry fights or the crying. I just remember having a lot of fun and feeling like we were in our own world. My grandparents probably complained constantly about the noise we were making but I barely remember those moments. I just remember concocting crazy mazes and rushing like madmen trying to put everything back in its place before our parents came home.

Here’s a list of some of the events we are fortunate a major injury did not occur:

1. I broke my father’s closet rod swinging on it like a monkey and nearly chopped my foot off. Why my father had a buzz saw in his clothes closet is beyond me.

2. My brother almost poked his eye out when I put baby powder on the wood floor to make it slick. Sorry bro. It seemed like a good idea.

3. My brother nearly broke my toes pounding 3 lbs dumbbells onto my toes as I hid in my closet during a game of hide and seek. I still can hear the maniacal laugh.

4. My brother drinking a glass of soapy water I left on the table after cleaning the writing I wrote on the wall. Why were you drinking out of someone else’s cup?

5. I fell off my mother’s dress drawer. I broke my fall by having my crotch land on the corner of said dresser. If getting kicked in the oysters is as painful as that incident, I sympathize with all men. I thankfully didn’t need stitches but I did need medication applied to the general region for three weeks. Even at the age of 9, I knew that was truly a mortifying and humiliating experience.

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Just an old fashioned love song playing on the radio

I left my pictures at home so you’ll have to wait another day.

Today is my first day back at work and although my week is going to be a hectic week, I can’t keep my mind from wandering. It’s not that my brain is having a hard time coming back from vacation. I think it actually is happy to be back to a routine. What my brain can’t stop thinking of is my husband. You can ooh and aah all you want but the fact is, I really enjoyed spending time with my husband this past week.

I know that sounds odd coming from a person that sees her half every day but when we’re in our routine, we’re in our own little worlds. We’re both physically in the same room but we’re focused on our own to dos.

Our laptops become our spouses. My husband jokingly says my Dell 700 is my ‘better half’. Even though we spent the entire week sick as dogs, yes, my husband caught a cold which he kindly shared with me we rarely touched our laptops. We pushed back our grown up responsibilities, work, bills, chores, and focused on our responsibilities to each other.

Sure we can chalk it up to the fact that our energy was low from a weak immune system but I’d like to think that we would have spent the leisure time together even if we weren’t sick. We just needed a kick. I honestly think the higher ups give us these nudges. Things happen for a reason. Most of the time we’re oblivious to the reason.

So while I’m glad to go back to a routine, I’m also glad that I had the lazy afternoons with my husband. Lrudlrick, you may not believe it but I did enjoy the afternoon naps and the freedom of living off the clock.

Thanks for a wonderful week, illness and all.

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Thursday, June 22, 2006

I hate the humidity.



I'm on sabbatical where the humidity is low and the nights and day are topsy turvy. It's 108 degrees and I'm not complaining!

Anyone else feel like their traveling back in time when heading from the east to west coast? I guess that's what Rose must feel like in the Tardis.

Thanks Michele for awarding the honor of site of the day! When I get back I hope to share photos and a few stories.

For anyone who is interested, I am still trying to figure out a way to place the left behinds on the bulletin board without injuring them. Afterall, they may be salvageable.

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Thursday, June 15, 2006

Top 5 memorable lines from this season's shows

"You are tiny. I can see the whole of time and space, every atom of your existence and I divide them." -- Doctor Who, Rose to the Dalek Emperor

"You are so drunk." -- The Office, Jim to Pam after she fell off the bar stool at Chili's

"Are you kidding? If you really want the details, I'll write you a report." -- 24, Chloe to Miles after leaving the ladies room.

"You were steering with a paperplate, but you did get some of the turns right." -- My Name is Earl, Randy driving a drunk Joy home.

"You're not married, you haven't got a girlfriend (pause) and you've never watched "Star Trek"?" -- Extras, Patrick Stewart to Andy

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Wednesday, June 14, 2006

I didn't have a big brother to introduce me to comics. Can you tell?

With X-men and Superman movies set for the summer, I’ve been tuning into comic book retrospectives on television. There was an interesting special on New York City and its relationship with comic book heroes and a two hour special on Superman recently.

This got me thinking. I was born after the height of the comic book era but comic books were still a big part of my generation. However, the only comics I got my hands on were from cousins and eventually my brother. I wasn’t too loyal to any particular character but there were a few I liked, all for the wrong reasons, of course.

So here is a look back at the characters Li’l Pantrygirl liked as a child and the rationale a little girl with no comic book mentor to guide her had in choosing her favorites. All comic book fans should turn away.

1. Wonder Woman
What else can I say but she was my idol. Why? Because she had dark hair. Yes, this was the sole reason I loved her and demanded underroos, sneakers and t-shirts with her likeness.

2. Firestar
I didn’t know what sexy was but I knew Firestar was sexy. Plus she got to hang out with Spider-Man and Ice Man. Which begs the question, if Ice Man and Firestar got married and had babies what superpower would their offspring have?

3. Magneto:
Cool helmet plus he had a purple outfit. If a man is brave enough to wear purple, he’s alright by me.

4. Superman:
I loved how his alter ego was completely un-super. Big, clumsy and sometimes doofy but when he needed to be he rescued you in a jiffy.

5. Venom:
So what if he was a villain, he had a kick ass outfit. That skin tight dark suit and razor sharp teeth were fierce and well, from the few issues I read, although he was evil he didn’t like to hurt innocent people.

6. Flash:
He was a non-threatening character to me. He ran fast and had weird looking lightning bolts on his head. He wasn’t scary at all.

7. Thing:
Big, cranky yet loveable. Sure he’s stone-like but he has a heart and he was willing to give up his human form for Alicia.

8. Psylocke:
First she turned Asian. Second, before she turned Asian she had a cool outfit and could kill with her mind. Imagine having that ability.

9. Beast:
Big, blue and lumbering but just like Thing had a heart. He also had an intelligent mind. I guess I’ve always had a thing for giant teddy bears.

10. Doppelganger:
He was more like a pet gone wrong than anything else. He seemed to be trainable to be loyal like a dog.

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Superman or Clark Kent?

One of the quirks I have is the desire for separation of church and state in my life. I don't like having my worklife and personal life mingling with each other. I don't know why. It's not like I lie or pretend to be something I’m not. I think I just like knowing that work doesn't consume and define me. Who I am is not my job. Who I am is not who I am at work.
Maybe l am in denial but there has to be something more to me than what I do 9 to 5.

Pantrygirl facts:
Although I am a homebody I wouldn't balk at a life of leisure.

I prefer a dinner at home over a restaurant although an occasional fancy restaurant or two is nice. Applebee's does not count, Lrudlrick.

I prefer to keep to myself. I'm friendly and talk to my neighbors but in general, I like anonymity.

I’m a shrinking violet and do not prefer confrontation. However, I’m not opposed to speaking the truth and telling it like it is.

I guess you can say I really am a Libra. I want it both ways.

Sometimes I feel like I’m one person at work and another at home. At work, I’m more bullish. At work, I’m less inclined to question myself. At work, I’m ADA Alexandra Cabot. At home, I’m Laura Petrie without the sobbing and dancing. However, I do look pretty cute in capris.

I suppose we all have our alter egos. Who is your alter ego?

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Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Maybe there is an ancient Chinese secret to laundry

Darren’s laundry entry made me think about my obsession with laundry.

I don’t like doing laundry. I don’t like the concept of laundry. I however do like the process of laundry and the laundry facilities. Just when you thought my OCD was only a minor trait.

I love the process so much that I have recently purchased a three sorter laundry cart with wheels. This thing is behemoth. I can’t hide this sucker behind a chair or in a closet. It’s the SUV of laundry carts and boy do I love it.

Now instead of sorting before we wash, we instinctively drop our dirty laundry in the appropriate sorter. By the end of the week, the sorter is full and we can just dump the colors, the whites and jeans in the washing machine quickly.

To add to my laundry happiness, our building just signed a new contract with a laundry vendor that seems to be responsive. We have 2 giant triple loaders, 5 regular washers and 6 giant dryers. The company also installed two oscillating fans, cleaned the sink, added a fresh tiled floor, a coat of paint and 4 new carts to our laundry room.

At this point I turn from Pantrygirl, mildly amusing laundry enthusiast to Pantrygirl, second cousin to Raymond Babbitt. Contrary to what you say Lrudlrick, I'm not the only person that talks to herself.

Firstly, I have to keep all the doors closed. When I enter the laundry room and see the dryer doors swung open and swaying freely, I have to close every one of them before I can start putting my clothes in the washers. If the carts are strewn about, I have to line them in a row to the left of the dryers. To me, that’s their home and they should go home when they finish their job.

I also like to use sequential machines but I think everyone does.

Lastly and perhaps the most disturbing part of my laundry routine is my need to make signs. I like to label things. I like making lists. So when the building sent out a notice to ask everyone to keep track of the breakage rate of the new machines, I did what I do best; I made up signs.

Yes, I’m the freak that makes the pretty signs in your apartment building. I’m the one that makes the printed sign with double stick removable adhesive on the front door that says, “Please close the door.”

I made laminated signs with the laundry vendor’s phone number to call for service and reimbursement of lost money. I also made a spreadsheet with instructions to list the washer or dryer number that broke down and to call the company for a refund and request a repair. I printed it out on cardstock so it was sturdy, pinned it onto the bulletin board next to the lending library in our laundry room and attached a pen tied to a string onto the board.

I even considered making removable ‘Out of Order’ index cards so residents can tack them onto the machine to warn others. I nixed the idea because even I thought that was a bit extreme. Watch I do this next month.

Now we can monitor the machines and request replacements as stated in our contract.

Every week when I came down to do my wash, I would take delight in seeing my list be put to use. Yes, I know I have a problem.

I’ve noticed that my compulsion is steering towards the left behinds. Left behinds are those errant socks, mostly kid socks, that get left in our laundry room. I am so tempted to take them and tack them artistically on our bulletin board. The only thing holding me back is my fear of touching someone else’s clothes, clean or dirty.

So that’s my idiosyncratic tendencies when it comes to laundry. I’m not a laundry Nazi but I do take delight in organizing a laundry room. My brother will probably tell me it’s a dormant gene from some distant relative who may have owned a laundry. I don’t yell at people to avoid slamming doors. In fact I don’t speak to anyone when I’m doing my laundry. I just turn up my iPod and do my wash. I don’t even think my building knows I’m the one that makes up all the signs. I’m just the woman with the two dogs,the 4” inch pumps and the giant laundry sorter.

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I'm obsessing over a visit that will happen months from now.

Every two years my husband wants to trade in our car.
Every two years I want to move furniture around the house.

That’s how last Sunday while my husband was at the vet with our allergic-to-the-world dog, I moved our king size bed, chair and a half and various dressers around the bedroom.

I don’t fashion myself a decorator. I consider myself more of a shifter. I don’t spend lavish amounts of money updating the house. I just move things around and change their purpose.

My husband has sort of grown accustomed to this. “We all have our quirks.” He’ll kiss me goodbye and by the time he’s back the couch is moved and he doesn’t know where to put his keys. Always on the shelf by the door, Lrudlrick. Always by the door.

What lit the fire again was my mother-in-law. I’m starting early in my preparations because of my work schedule but whenever they visit I have to spend some time doing what I call parent proofing the apartment. This does not mean hide the toys and ‘adult’ materials. It means I have to set up things so that they make sense for them.

For example, my father-in-law is a huge movie buff. He loves all the movie channels and he’ll spend days planning out movies he needs to tape to view or add to his collection. He collects b-rated horror movies. I would say they are more c-rated than b. If he notices a movie he can’t tape because he’s taping another movie, he’ll call us and ask us to tape it for him.

Last year, he had my mother-in-law call us not to tell us he fell off his roof and needed brain surgery but to tell us to record some movie.

Before he arrives, I prep the bedroom television. I turn off all DVR recordings and set preset channels for him. I also take down any equipment he doesn’t need. i.e. The surround sound and the DVD. Why? Well, my father-in-law likes to turn everything electronic off before he goes to bed.

This year, we gave our surround sound to my mother and go rid of the DVD recorder. To make it easier for him, I stacked the cable box and DVR under the television, took down all the Xbox cabling in the back and hooked everything up to the same surge protector so all he has to do is turn off the surge protector. “Honey, he’s still going to turn everything off and ask us to check it.” “I know but at least I know I tried.”

I also moved the chair and a half so that the bedroom is more secluded and intimate. Now the bedroom has a clear sleeping and relaxing area and a lounging and exercising area.

This little parent proofing do’s continue throughout the apartment. Next on my list are slip guards in the shower for them and re-angling the showerhead. Last year my step dad re-angled our two headed shower to the point where they were nearly facing each other. We’ve since switched the shower heads to avoid confusion. I’m also contemplating taking down the automatic shower cleaner. I’m afraid they will mistake that as shampoo and get an eye full of shower cleaner.

Next month I tackle the nooks and crannies. We’ll be cleaning the closets top to bottom and making room in my husbands crack den of a closet for their clothes.

We’re still looking at sofa beds and are narrowing down our selections. My husband loves modular sofas. I find them too big and 70’s like. The big factor for my husband is that the sofa bed unopened must be wide enough to allow both of us to lounge on it.

I think I may appease my husband and get a chaise and a sofa bed. He’s really keen on a chaise. I’m not a chaise fan but I think that’s because I relate a chaise with the slovenly emperor Dom DeLuise played in History of the World, Part I.

I much rather prefer a loveseat, sofa bed and chair and half but I suppose I’m more of a traditionalist than I’d like to admit.

I received a great book, Apartment Therapy from Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan. Thanks Maxwell. Check it out. It’s got some great tips and is written in a way that everyone can relate to, not just apartment dwellers. It’s not so much a decorating guide but instead steers you towards designing a home to reflect who you are rather than what you were. If that doesn’t make sense, read the book or check out the blog.

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Tuesday, June 06, 2006

I've got a song, I ain't got no melody.


A moment of silence for one of the greatest musicians my ears have had the pleasure to hear.

Billy Preston, the fifth Beatle passed away today.

Nothing from nothing leaves nothing. Billy you definitely had something to me.

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Where's Emily Post when you need her?

Is it appropriate to give your in-laws the sofa bed when she visits?

For the last ten years, whenever my husband’s mother and husband visit, we’ve given them our bed. My rationale was that the bedroom was farthest away from the kitchen and front door. When we took the pooches out for their walks and when I was cooking a meal, they wouldn’t be disturbed. Lrudlrick and I would sleep on the airbed or the couches.

Well my mother in law has just told us she’s coming in August for a week and well, to be perfectly honest, I really don’t want to give up my bedroom. It’s not that I don’t want to give her my bed. I have no problem with that. It’s just that I’m really lazy and don’t want to ‘parental control’ my bedroom. Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not like I have whips and chains and pulleys strewn around. I contain those things and hide them discreetly.

It just don’t want to pack my clothes and live in my living room. I don’t want to delete my pre-scheduled recordings on my Tivo because my father-in-law can’t figure out how to cancel a recording. I don’t want to have to explain how he doesn’t to shut off the cable and every other electronic equipment in our bedroom because then it won’t record the programs he wants to record. Most importantly, I don’t want my MIL waking me up by climbing on top me to make sure I’m alive. Yes, she has done this because she saw our window was opened and thought someone may have climbed up our building and into our apartment on the 6th floor. I just want a little sanctuary.

Sure I’m going to get the lectures about walking the dog when it’s dark and when it’s too early in the morning. I’m willing to take it.

I suggested to my husband that since our sofa was getting a bit on the floppy side and his mother was coming we should invest some money on a really nice sturdy sofa bed. There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Oh, sure. Let’s talk about it.”

I don’t think he’s opposed to it. I think he just thinks after a ten year precedent, it may be a bit awkward. It’s like that episode of King of Queens where Doug lied and said they were trying to conceive to get his parents to understand why they weren’t getting the bedroom.

So what do you think? What is the proper etiquette with houseguests that are your in-laws. Do you give up your bed or give them a really nice sofa bed complete with an all in one television/cable/dvr/dvd system?

You know the likelihood of me giving up my bedroom is high. I’m such a freakin' wuss I’m going to give up the bedroom, I’m sure. I just want to know if it’s inconsiderate to even think about giving them the living room.

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Monday, June 05, 2006

The More You Know (insert music)

There are a lot of things I do that I cannot give anyone a clear explanation on. Saturday is a good example. I spent my entire Saturday getting certified in CPR. For 8 hours I went through a standard Red Cross training and was tested at the end of the class.

It’s not difficult. Most of what they teach is, you know. So why did I give up a Saturday to do it? I can’t give you a solid reason except, I wanted to. There wasn’t any moral obligation to it. There wasn’t a need to do so because of family and friends. I just had to do it for me.

Sure the class was boring and unnecessarily long. Sure some of my fellow students could have used a shovel to the back of the head but I’m glad I did it.

I hope to God that I never have to use it on anyone but it’s still assuring to know that I’ve done it in front of someone and I know how to do it properly.

The reasons from my fellow classmates were varied but all fell along the same general areas: to graduate, to get a job, a newborn is in the house.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to be prepared for anything and everything. My brother and I watched as our parents cared for sick or injured people. All my dad wanted to do was to help. I suppose my brother and I have a piece of my dad in that aspect. We’re not medical professionals like he was but when we see someone hurt, we usually don’t turn away or cringe at the site of an injury.

If you haven’t been trained, I strongly encourage you to do so. Look up your local Y or Red Cross or even American Heart Association. Companies can also coordinate in house training where trainers from these organizations come to your office and teach the skills to your staff. I know the class is tedious, especially for rationale people, but the point is to drill the routine until it becomes route.

Oh, for anyone interested, I surpassed my goal for City Harvest’s Skip Lunch, Fight Hunger campaign. With the minimal effort I gave this year, compared to last, I was able to get my fellow friends, family and co-workers to donate over $500 to the ‘Feed the Kids’ campaign in NYC.

I was the crazy woman who was making all that noise baking the cookies at 2am last night. Sorry to my neighbors who had to deal with the clanging and wafting smells of fresh baked chocolate chip cherry walnut goodness. The cookies were a prize for the largest donation from a group within my donation pool. The winner was a division within my workplace. Surprisingly, my division at work was a poor participant. Oh well. I don’t like pressing people for donations so I’m just happy I beat my personal goal.

This summer, please consider doing some sort of volunteering or charity work. Even if it’s using your typing skills to print out mailers for the local park’s summer events calendar or donating some items to the PTA’s tag sale, it’s a little way of giving back.

By the way, not that anyone cares but at 66th street there was a bus that had a PSA that was eerily similar to JD's 'Don't beat your kids" PSA.

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Can a woman be that obtuse? Can a man be that blind?

Spoilers within...

The Breakup tried to be an everyman. That’s where it lost me. War of the Roses worked because the disdain for each side was apparent. The absurdity of their actions seemed justified by their complete and utter hatred for each other.

In The Breakup, the hatred isn’t there. We meet the characters towards the last leg of their relationship. Anyone who has been there realizes the end of a serious relationship is not a joking matter. Complex emotions are in play. The five stages are in motion.

Anyone going into The Breakup looking for a romantic comedy is going to be disappointed. Anyone going into The Breakup for a dramedy is going to be disappointed. The Breakup just couldn’t make up its mind on what it wanted to be. The director should have dropped the filler, John Michael Higgins, Judy Davis, Justin Long, and spent that time establishing the relationship between Gary and Brooke.

What made Brooke fall for Gary? What made them decide to move in together? We jumped straight from the first meeting to a quickie montage of their relationship that showed us nothing, except their a fun loving couple that spent most of their time attending social events, most of which lean towards Gary’s happy-go-lucky lifestyle.

When the bickering begins, you don’t feel for either side. Yes, the dialogue is chocked with common relationship anecdotes, a few of which persuaded me to plop down my $10 to see this film. However, you really don’t feel for either side. After the stories are told, you still feel like observers to a relationship near its end stage.

Sadly, as an audience member, you are more participatory than Gary and Brooke’s best friends. Gary and Brooke need to find better friends. Gary, if your friend, Johnny O gave you his second to last speech the first ten minutes of the movie, you wouldn’t be in your predicament. Brooke, if your friend, Maddie, smacked some sense into you, the wouldn’t go the lengths you did to try to save a relationship that ended a long time ago.

The movie didn’t strike it like it should and could have. The best part of the movie was the ending. You finally felt for both characters but a good movie shouldn’t make you wait 2 hours to make you empathize with the characters.

Don’t get me wrong, as a woman, I will freely admit that I’ve done some desperate things to cling on to someone. Even past the point I knew realistically I should give up, I pushed it further fruitlessly partly because of fear and partly because I didn’t want something I invested so much time on and so much of my heart in wasn’t done in vain. Watching Brooke go through this was slightly painful. What was more painful was to see so many people surrounding Brooke give her horrific advice. From the loving words of my friend Myrna, “Clearly that girl needs some friends.”

As for Greg, I’m not a guy so feel free to pitch in your thoughts. I’ve been told I can be as callous as a man. I guess that gives me credibility when I say I don’t know any man who is as oblivious as Greg is. Oblivious may be an inaccurate description. Apathetic is more appropriate.

Between my guy friends, my family and my relationship, I’ve known many men get your mind out of the gutter and although some may be aloof I can’t think of any as unaffected and unmoved as Greg. Maybe what makes Greg’s situation even sadder is that he’s past the age when it’s acceptable for a man.

Greg’s younger brother was completely unnecessary and it seems the only person in Greg and Brooke’s life that had the balls to tell it like it is was Jason Bateman, playing of all characters, their realtor. By the way, maybe my experiences with realtors have left me a bit jaded but that scene provided the most chuckles for me.

I read somewhere that the ending was re-shot to satisfy test audiences. I’m not sure what the original ending was but I liked the ending. Without giving it away it seemed a bit more realistic. The hopefulness, the personal growth and excitement of the future are the driving forces to a relationship cycle.

No one wants to play out the end of their past relationships again. No one wants to relive the pain, the anger, the desperation, the emptiness. Maybe that’s why I have so much to say about this movie and I suppose that’s what the writer wants in the first place. I just wish they’d stop comparing it to War of the Roses and advertising it as a comedy when it really isn’t.

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Friday, June 02, 2006

Yes, I watched the spelling bee

I felt like I was on a soundstage in Brooklyn last night. I was in my kitchen experimenting, as usual, and I’m not lying when I say that I looked down at my pot of sauce, looked back up and darkness fell.

Thunder was heard for at least a good half hour before I actually saw lightening and rain. Lightening struck fast and hard. Thick bolts could be seen. I watched as lightening struck over and over but no rain. Finally, as if a water tower ripped open, sheets of rain hit my windows.

The roars the sky made sounded as if the end of days was near. Zoë who recently lost her phobia to thunder sat in the kitchen staring through the very same window with a cocked head and a perplexed look.

I haven’t seen thunderstorms like these since I lived in Boston. I love running in the rain but if you dared to step foot outside yesterday night you were asking to be hit by lightning.

Last night I did watch the last half hour of the spelling bee. The stress level was so intense for me. My stomach was turning. I bet somewhere in England bookies are doing live bets on these kids. Lrudlrick liked watching these doofy pre-pubescent kids grapple with the pressure. Some kids were extremely intense. Others had nervous smiles. One tall lanky kid kept swaying.

Is it right for us to put these kids in the national spotlight? All kinds of crazy things are happening to you physically and emotionally. Limbs grow faster than other parts of your body. Your voice gets deeper. BTW, was it just me or did one of those girls sound like she had a 35 year old voice?

Lrudlrick and I liked watching the parents too. Some were really intense. Others, like the huggable doofy father for the Canadian girl looked like he would have run up there to bear hug her when she got her word wrong.

My favorite moment of the night was the Jersey girl’s expression when she realized that she may be the champion after the Canadian girl spelt her word wrong. Without missing a beat, she quickly stared at her parents with this, “Holy crap! The pressure is really on now!” look.

Good for you Jersey girl! Lord knows I would have never known Ursprache.

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Thursday, June 01, 2006

So help me, I may be watching the Spelling Bee tonight.

I’m sitting in my office, slowly roasting to death. Yesterday I was freezing. Today I’m hot, humid and cranky. Plus, I don’t mean to be rude but my right nipple is itching like hell.

I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but you need to understand that I’ve been unconsciously rubbing my nipple. I’m wearing a pink silk camisole and my desk is placed so that everyone walking past my door can see me either rubbing myself or checking myself to see if I have some sort of bug bite.

So I saw part of that Dateline pedophilia investigation last night. I don’t get it. Once you realized this was a being filmed for an investigatory program wouldn’t you walk out the house? Why would you sit there, eat a cookie and tell this reporter you’ve solicited sex with minors in several states? I’m not sure if it is defined as a form of mental illness but maybe there is a degree of mental instability in some of these men.

With the invention of DVR, I’ve been finding less and less programming to watch during the summer months. I know several channels are rolling out new reality television programs but I’m not a reality TV gal. I’ll occasionally watch a Trading Spouses or The Apprentice but other than that, I’m not a big fan.

I’m playing around with the On Demand channels now and catching up on movies we didn’t want to spend $10 for. We finally saw War of the Worlds with Tom Cruise and Batman Begins. Thumbs up for British Batman. Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman and the guy who will forever be the Empire of the Sun kid were fun to watch. War just didn’t grab me. I’ve decided that Dakota Fanning’s auditions for her movies consist of her screaming. “Thanks Dakota. You nailed it.”

The key element missing in War was empathy. I didn’t have any empathy for Tom Cruise and his family. His son was annoying. His daughter was annoying. He was annoying.

I’m picking up the 3rd season of scrubs to fill my time but if anyone has any movies or summer shows to recommend, pass them on.

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Words to Live By

How has my faith grown?

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