podview

podview

( 7:07 PM ) EK B
Hey! It's Friday! Friday Five time, folkies:

1. What's your favorite piece of clothing that you currently own? Well, I'm sure "favorite" would have to be for comfort, and I have a pair of navy blue cotton pants that are just baggy enough to be comfortable and I can wear with everything. And my "cover up," well, it was bought as a swimsuit coverup, but I wear it for that, for lazy days around the house, and also for sleeping in. It's lime green.

2. What piece of clothing do you most want to acquire? Wow, I'm not one who longs to "acquire" clothing. I wouldn't mind some of those pants in more colors. And a pair of comfortable and supportive shoes that don't look like orthopedics.

3. What piece of clothing can you not bring yourself to get rid of? Why? I have two, the first is kind of embarrassing. I have had, since a junior in high school, my old "sorority" jacket. (I don't guess high schools have sororities, they have social clubs.) Anyway, it looks like your basic "school" jacket, it's red, corduroy, collared, snaps in the front, and across the back says "Debonaires" in white felt lettering. The reason I can't get rid of it is because I love it. Not because it brings back any great memories of the time I wore it or the club (I actually left the club before graduation). I just love that jacket, it's so Sixties. Back in yearbooks from the Sixties and Seventies I saw pictures of girls in those jackets, and it's just something cool I want to keep. And, as important, the "Debonaires" was scripted and cut by me before being sewn on. My first wearable art. The second is more wearable art, I painted a reproduction of my favorite painting by Stuart Davis, "Blips And Ifs," on the back of a denim jacket, which I wore to death. Way out of style now, but I'll never throw that away.

4. What piece of clothing do you look your best in? Oh, geez. I'm the absolute worst person to ask on that account. I have a slate blue sweater/straight skirt set that people seem to like. But I hardly ever wear it.

5. What has been your biggest fashion accident? (This question reminds me of the episode of "Freaks and Geeks" where Sam buys the "Parisian Nightsuit." I'm now laughing!) I can think of two, though one wasn't particularly "fashion." When I was in Jr High, it was a big thing to roll your hair on sponge curlers and have lots of curls. So I tried it, not realizing that when your hair is ultra curly anyway, you're not going to get the same effect. When I took out curlers that morning (after sleeping in them all night), my hair was 100 times worse than someone who stuck their finger in a light socket. I tried to get out of going to school, but of course Mom made me go. So I sat there all day pulling at my hair, trying to make it straight. The second one wasn't really an accident in dressing, it was more an accident of wearing the wrong thing at the wrong time. I went to a gathering of local people dressed in something that would have looked pretty funky and good out in the city somewhere or at a club. But amongst them I was "that weird girl who's dressed like an idiot." And in that realm, I was!

#

( 12:44 PM ) EK B
Well, I just saw on the news scroll at horrible CNN Headline News that indeed Nikki is off "American Idol." She can slide back into the 80s where she came from and not darken our doorsteps again. #

( 11:10 PM ) EK B
Blog, blog, blog.

Blog blog blog blog blog running out of time, already 11pm blog blog blog. Blog blog bloggity blogblog blog soup gave me heartburn blog blog.

Blogblog bloggggg blog blog blogini blogblog sick of getting 3 hours of sleep a night blog blog blogblog. Bloggity blog blog blogoon blog bloggy blogness blog blog so damn tired I feel like I'm 50 blog.

Blogage blogblog blog American Idol blog blog who got voted off blog and should I even care? Blog blog!

Blog -- blogeet blogblog blog vacation blog blog dammit, vacation! blog blog. Bloggin' vacation. I'll be blog bloggin' blogged.

Blog. Blog, blog, blog.... #

( 11:05 PM ) EK B
I went home last night filled with hope. Tonight, I think I've lost it.

I just watched my first-ever episode of "American Idol." Oh, my God. This is the show that's gripping America?

Now, I'll be the first to admit I've left it a bit late to begin my viewing. I think it ends next week. They're down to three Idol wannabes. But I know the story of the show. They started with thousands, narrowed it to hundreds, and tens, and here we are. Along the way, I'm supposing we saw triumphs and tears, happiness and heartbreak, and victory and vomit. We saw the three judges (who I'll get to later) rip them apart, make them cry, argue with them, and, in the end, kick them to the curb. Then it got to the point where we had ten, or twelve, or whatever the number was when the hypemobile revved it's engine and started pulling up at every show on TV.

I'm not kidding. I was watching this show for the first time, and I already knew who the three contestants are, and at least four others who've already fallen off the stage. They're like ants - they're everywhere!

As are the judges, who are the biggest joke of this whole thing. (I'm not counting the two dipshit hosts of the show, totally benign faceless faux comedians who aren't even qualified to host "America's Funniest Home Videos." They'd barely make it as drive-time comedy disc jockeys.) Judges include some big black guy named Randy, who's apparently worked with some of the greats. (I don't know who they are, I just keep hearing "has worked with the greats" in his introductions. Maybe "The Greats" are a boy band.) He just mentioned working with Mariah Carey. Well, that qualifies him for death immediately. This man feels his importance. I was going to say "it's hard to explain," but his blatant Mariah name-dropping pretty much summed it up for me.

Then you've got Paula Abdul. What a wonderful pick for a talent show judge. A woman who's famous for having no musical talent whatsoever is picking people based on their musical abilities. The thought of this would make one think one would be rolling on one's floor in laughter. But the actual practice of it is just downright sickening. She actually believes she's qualified to be a talent judge! She believes it!

And finally, there's America's newest villian, Simon. Simon is an Englishman who loves to insult people. I saw lots of clips of that from the hypemobile. "Do you take singing lessons?" "Yes." "Do you have a lawyer?" "Yes." "Well, sue the person who gave you the singing lessons." See, I like that! If you stink, you stink. Apparently, he's caused tears amongst the contestants and anger amongst the judges. Paula's always giving him the rude comments that amount pretty much to "I know you are but what am I," and Randy's always leaning over threatening to take him to the ground because he's never worked with The Greats.

Personally, Simon is exactly what these people need. First of all, they're the ones auditioning for this thing, it's not like he's walking up to people on the streets saying, "You suck, and while we're at it, you dress like shit." These people are asking for it. Well, in truth, they're asking for heaps of praise, but let's face it. A lot of people don't deserve heaps of praise. And if these people are going to try to make it in the music business, do they think they're gonna be facing people like Paula Abdul? Who get dewey-eyed at every ballad and emote, "You've got it. You've got it!"? No, they're gonna come up in front of people worse than Simon. People who are eating a tuna sandwich and reading the racing form while talking to The Coast by phone. People who, after you sing "Night - and Day....," yell "You bite, kid. NEXT!" As my dad says, get the shoe clerks out now.

So anyway. We're down to three contestants. First was Nikki. Nikki looks like what punk rockers looked like on "21 Jump Street." Mercurochromed red hair spiked in twenty different directions. Black clothes, net shawls wrapped God knows where all over her body. And the two songs she sang tonight were right out of 1984 or so. "White Winged Dove" by Stevie Nicks, which again qualifies her for immediate death, and that awful song "Black Velvet" by the woman with a nose ring with the chain hanging from it, I forgot her name. She sucked. Her voice was as weak as water, and she held the microphone right in her face the whole time she sang. Which, I guess, could be a blessing. Anyway, I don't know how shitty the other contestants up to now were, but this girl was strictly Karaoke At The Best Western Lounge Out By The Airport.

Next up was Justin Guarini. Justin Guarini looks exactly like someone who would be named Justin Guarini. His looks are a combination of Justin Timberlake, the guy with the red afro from "Room 222," Carrot Top, a random model in a Levi's commercial, and a gay street hustler. He smiles and gives that tilted head "Oh, thank you so very much I love you to the depths of my being" look a lot. Tonight he sang Al Green's "Let's Stay Together," which certainly doesn't qualify him for immediate death, but qualifies him to look 47 times worse than Al Green does on the worst day of his life. Then he sang "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me," Elton John's worst song of all time. I even knew that when I worshipped Elton. Justin was a perfectly nice boy, and to tell the truth, I'd like to see him win it because he's the only person I know with hair worse than mine. But watching him sing, he was like the very best guy at the high school talent show.

And finally, we had Kelly. She's a non descript gal with striped hair. She's a belter. Belts those numbers right out, she does. She was blowing babies out of the arms of their mothers in the first five rows. And she's one of these singers: oooOOoooOOOOooOOooooHHHHH." You get the idea. It's the way singers feel they have to sing today to show off their "vocal ability." The judges kept talking about her talent, which as hard as I tried, I could not find anywhere at all. She sang one song called "Think Twice," that I'd never heard before and I hope I never hear again. It was fitting, though, the most nondescript song I could ever imagine. Couldn't tell you a thing about it now. Then she sang "Without You," the song judge Randy said he helped Mariah Carey record. The song I wish to God Nilsson would have put some sort of recording freeze on before his sad death. No one but Harry should ever be allowed to sing that song, and if anyone tried, life imprisonment wouldn't be enough punishment. She sang the first verse through her nose so badly that I honestly could not tell you the words she was uttering. It was sad.

And so then they flashed phone numbers on the screen so we can all vote, and the fuckwad co-hosts joked their way to the end of the show. And I silently thanked God for making it be over. I think Justin will win. Lots of teenaged girls seemed to be filling the audience. And he's certainly the least infuriating of the three. So, go Justin.

But mainly, just go. Please finish and go away.
#

( 11:45 PM ) EK B
I had an interesting experience tonight.

After returning some movies, I decided to take a drive by the high school and watch my nephew at band practice. As I've mentioned (probably ad nauseum to you), although he's not in high school yet (he's an 8th grader), he was asked to fill out in the percussion section of the high school marching band. He's not marching on the field, he's on the sidelines in the pit of stationary percussion instruments.

During the course of the half-time show, he played two bass drums, high-hat cymbal, gong, chimes, and tambourine. It was fun.

It was cool this evening, much more so than it's been all season. I sat in a lounge chair and watched the kids, playing, marching, laughing together when things went wrong. I was thinking about marching when I was in high school band. Things have changed immensely. Our director, every 10 minutes or so, would stop us and yell, "Zero Line!" At that point, everyone would run screaming to the endzone of the football field, where our half-time show started. Bands now start at mid-field and end at mid-field. If a director yelled, "Zero Line!" they'd stand there dumbstruck. High school bands in my day didn't have percussion pits. If you couldn't march with it, you didn't get it. And they didn't have soloists. Now every marching band seems to have at least one soloist.

It's starting to get darker quicker these days. During the kids' break, they turned on the field lights. And suddenly nothing was different. The cool air, at dusk, with the lights streaming onto the field. It was really weird. There was a smell. It was the exact smell from 25 years ago. The smell of dewey grass and breeze, I guess. It just said Autumn, and it was an hour or so of peace, even though the trumpets were blaring and the percussion was pounding.

I kept feeling something that I couldn't place. It wasn't necessarily contentment, or excitement, or even pride in watching the nephew. For a minute, sitting there with parents who'd come to watch, it was "This must be what having kids is like."

As I was driving home, it hit me. What I was feeling. It was hope. In an odd way, feeling the seasons turn and watching kids having fun just gave me hope.

And I went home content. #

( 7:02 PM ) EK B
Monday Mission

1. What do you do to make things better when you feel sad and/or lonely? Well, generally I have a good cry first. Then I try to do something to occupy myself, like watch a movie or work on a craft or something.

2. Are you a "touchy-feely" person? That is, do you like to touch people you don't know that well? And on the flipside of that, do you like being touched by someone you aren't close with? I'm not much of one. I actually like a good hug, it's a great warm feeling, and hand-holding is nice. But I'd prefer them from friends and family, and not from general acquaintances. I'm sure there are some to whom it's genuine, but people who are always hugging people they're not overly close to reek of insincerity to me.

3. Do you like to have "me" time, time to yourself to be alone and relax? Or do you prefer to just do your own thing with someone else in the room? When was the last "me" time you got and what did you do? Well, I live alone, and I like living alone. So, yeah, I like "me" time, even though I have a lot of it. If I'm visiting someone else, or if someone visits me, after a few days I'll start to get a little itchy because I just need some peace and quiet time, even if it's just to read a magazine or watch TV. I want to do it by myself. The last time? All the time. What did I do? I lived! (thank you, Agnes Gooch)

4. Generally speaking, how do you feel about the concept of marriage? Are you the marrying type? Do you think the act of getting married means something today or is it simply just "a piece of paper?" I don't have any problems with the concept of marriage or the actual practicing of it. I have no idea if I'm the marrying type. Never had a chance to find out. Today or anytime, I think the act of getting married means something only if the two people going into believe it does. If they're not committed to having marriage be more than a piece of paper it won't be. That's one thing that galls me about young people who get married today - they're mainly in love with the idea of being married. Come the first fight, it's all over.

5. That said, as many as 25 states have passed legislation regulating who they believe should be the "marrying type." What are your thoughts on the banning of same-sex marriages? Same sex marriage doesn't bother me a bit. Gay relationships can be as stable and last longer than opposite sex ones. I see nothing wrong with benefits for same sex partners, either. Let's all get married to each other!

6. If there was one law you had the ability to create or change, what would it be? I was going to say 'free and legal abortion on demand in all states.' Then I was thinking in the totally opposite direction how the laws governing TV cable and how it works need to change. Then I realized if I'm thinking more about TV cable than a woman's right to choose, maybe I need to scratch it all and start over.

7. What would you like someone visiting your Blog for the first time to know about you? Now is your chance! That I'm a nice person! And I like comments! And signers of the Guestbook!

BONUS: Can you hear them? Who, them? Yeah, I hear 'em. Telling lies. That's no surprise.

#

( 11:44 PM ) EK B
Opening Gambits

You know, I hate having nothing to blog about. It drives me crazy.

And I'm sure it's no surprise to you, the reader, that I'm running out of ideas here. My life is dull, my thoughts are dull, and apparently, my ideas are growing dull as well.

Generally, my blogs come from the germ of an idea. Add a little thought, and it culminates in an opening sentence. An opening sentence that I use to springboard and meander to all sorts of places.

So, if I can think up a good sentence or two, I'm home free, right? OK, let's see. Some of these I could actually expound upon. Some I could not. It's up to you to decide which is which.

O sister, thou art fucked up.

When the bride has a prosthetic leg, I guess trouble is always around the corner.

I knew when I struggled with sophomore gym, a long life of inactivity lay ahead of me.

I always wanted a gay friend of my own; the bi-polar personality disorder, I would have rather done without.

When Alma & Jean sing "Ave Maria," everyone snickers.

When a dog is born bad, there's not a lot you can do, I'm afraid.

Even though it seems a good idea at the time, impersonating a doctor is generally something you want to steer clear of.

Thursday Three time!!

I know we can't pick the family we're born into, but if you can't ride a unicycle, you can't ride a unicycle.

I've never followed Phish, nor have I considered it....

Most of the world takes the heartache the clarinet can cause for granted. I don't.

Frankly, clowns and ventriloquists frighten me.

I wish I could be like Jared, and have the intestinal fortitude to eat from Subway every day.

It was orange and brown. REALLY orange and brown.

You know, I hate having nothing to blog about. It drives me crazy.

#

( 12:08 AM ) EK B
I'm blowing off the Friday Five today. The questions, increasingly sucky with each week, have hit a new low today. Besides, Friday Five doesn't seem to mind blowing us off at the drop of a hat....

I mentioned something in Saturday's blog about Rainer Werner Fassibinder about Hollywood pairing old geezer actors with nubile young women in films. Today at work, in an effort to do as much loafing as is humanly possible, I did a little research, with the help of the good folks at IMDB. I tried to think of all the big star actors out there today, and of some of their movies, and who they were paired with as their lady co-stars. Here are a few things I found. If someone can expand on this list, by all means, let me know.

I've been reading reviews of this "Simone" movie coming out today, with Al Pacino. The reviews say Catherine Keener plays his wife. Or maybe ex-wife. Al is 62. Catherine is 42.

Harrison Ford is considered a handsome rugged "man's man." He's also way long in the tooth, though you couldn't tell Hollywood. He's 60. In "What Lies Beneath," Harrison stars with Michelle Pfeiffer, who's 44. In "Random Hearts," Harrison was paired with Kristin Scott Thomas. She's 42. In "Six Days, Seven Nights," it was Anne Heche. She's 33.

How about Sean Connery? Sure, he's supposed to be sexy to all the ladies. After he's had his pablum and afternoon nap. He starred in "First Knight" as King Arthur, with Julia Ormond as his Guinevere. Sean's 72. Or will be in 2 days. Julia is 37. In "Entrapment," he starred with Catherine Zeta-Jones. She's 32. Then again, in a stunning turn of real-world events, she goes and marries Michael Douglas, and can change his diapers when she changes her son's.

Everyone's (but mine, I can't stand his ass) "cool guy," Jack Nicholson, starred with, and won Oscars with, Helen Hunt in that "what the hell did everyone see in it" movie, "As Good As It Gets." Jack's 65. Helen's 39. Sadly enough, the horrible part of that pairing is not the immense age difference but the fact that they'd have a woman fall in love with the world's cruelest - and most insane, and I don't mean that in the "wacky and fun" insane way - man. I spit on that movie. Except Greg Kinnear.

Bruce Willis isn't really that old, though you'd never know it by his hair. He was born in 1955, making him 47. But in "The Sixth Sense," his wife was Olivia Williams, who's 34. That's still 13 years. He was learning the score when she was being born.

And dear Olivia isn't through. She ended up in "Rushmore" paired with Bill Murray, who's 51. She should have gone for Jason Schwartzman, the other competitor for her attentions. He's cute, and 22. Bill's next movie with Wes Anderson (Wes must really like him to do this) has him paired with everyone's favorite skinny fake Brit, Gwyneth Paltrow. She's 29. Now, I do have to admit, and give kudos to Wes, that this is just barely a relationship hanging off a cliff by a fingernail. With someone stepping on the finger.

Mel Gibson, who everyone seems to have this wonderful affinity for but myself, is ten years older than his love interest in "Braveheart."

Joe Pesci was paired with Marisa Tomei of the pounding biological clock in "My Cousin Vinny." Joe is a robust 59, Marisa is a happy 37. (By the way, at the time she was stomping out her biological clock, she'd have been 27. Oh well, at least she got an Oscar for it. Well, maybe. Ask Jack Palance.)

AND THEN, THERE'S WOODY ALLEN

Now, we can't blame Hollywood for Woody's stuff. He is a studio system unto himself. And about the time he dumped a normal aged woman for his prepubescent stepdaughter, his movies seemed to be following suit.

Woody is 66. In his latest "pretending to be blind" movie, "Hollywood Ending," Woody's sandwiched between Tea Leoni, 36, and Debra Messing, 34. In "Curse of the Jade Scorpion," Woody has Charlize Theron crawling all over him, trying to seduce him. She's 27. I saw a scene of this. It was rather disgusting and sad. In "Everyone Says I Love You," Woody gets to croon to Julia Roberts, who's not only America's Sweetheart, but she's also 34.

Oh, and by the way. Sean Connery, 72, played the dad of Harrison Ford, 60, in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade." And in a reversal, Sally Field, 55, played the mother of Tom Hanks, 46, in "Forrest Gump." I know that took place in Alabama, but they don't start that early down there....

Reminds me of that great line in Barry Levinson's "Tin Men," about "Bonanza" being a show about "a 50 year old man and his three 47 year old sons."

#

( 8:56 PM ) EK B
I'm currently in the middle of embarkment on an experiment. Or maybe it's a dare. It was pitched to me as an experiment.

Last night around 9:50pm, Mr M, my friend and tormentor, tossed me a curve. "Let's see if you can go the next 48 hours without uttering the phrase 'I'm sorry' one time."

For most people this would be a walk in the park. But remember, a walk in the park would be hard for me. I don't know if it's the constant current of self-deprecation that runs through my blood, or just that I want everyone to be happy and I feel personally responsible for making them so, or if it's even something I've not considered. But I say "I'm sorry" an awful lot. An awful lot. "This pen has no ink." "Oh, I'm sorry." "Is the videotape in its box?" "Oooh, it's not. I'm sorry." "I hit the wrong button on the remote! I'm sorry!" And it probably bothers a few people out there, but it makes Mr M's blood curdle. And so I was challenged.

Well, actually, I was challenged three times. After the first challenge, which I accepted, I said "Sorry" in three minutes. Didn't even realize it, totally unconsciously. After the second challenge, which I accepted, I said "I'm sorry" in about 17 minutes. I would have considered that a failure, except that when reminded I'd said "I'm sorry," I didn't respond with "I'm sorry." When the third challenge was accepted, it was 10:30pm.

I lasted the rest of Mr M's visit, and then didn't have to speak to anyone till this morning at work. When my will was severely put to the test.

One of the first encounters I had this morning was on the phone with a customer. Mr Customer, we'll call him, because of my immense imagination. Mr Customer wanted something that TheCompanyIWorkFor could not do. Or would not do. And Mr Customer was mad. He didn't yell and scream, he remained very cool and collected. Those people are scarier. I had two different phone conversations with him. And a call to our regional office to plead his case in between.

After the first call, I started thinking about what I'd said. I'd said a few, "we can't"s, and some "I wish it was different"s and some "I know that really stinks"s. But no "I'm sorry"s. I was proud! When my pleading to regional fell on deaf ears (as I knew it would, they're not going to tell everyone 'no' and this man 'yes'), I called him back with the bad news. "Unfortunately," "I really hate this," "I know you're upset, I don't blame you," and more were used. Not an "I'm sorry" in the bunch.

About 20 minutes later, Mr Customer came in to get printouts of all his accounts with us (6 different lucrative ones), as he was on his way to TheCompanySomeoneElseWorksFor.

And you know what? After a few minutes of fretting, I didn't care anymore. Had I laced my conversation with 52 "I'm sorry"s, this man would have still been headed down the street. Because TheCompanyIWorkFor pissed him off, whether they were justified in doing this or not. They weren't to him. So my kneeling at his feet wouldn't have made any difference.

I have till Friday at 10:30pm to remain sorryless. I'm thinking I can do it.

If I make anyone mad before then and you want an apology, come and see me Saturday with your demands. Cause till then, you can piss off and take it down the road. In a nice way. #

( 11:57 PM ) EK B
Hello!

I'm very proud at the moment. I just did something really geeky in html by myself. That's a first.

Another personal questionnaire is making the rounds again, with the exception of one question it looks exactly like the last one that went round. But since I've nothing to blog on and some other folks are using it as their blog, I'll do that as well. As I said one day last week, I'm nothing if not a follower. This will tell you more about me than you'll ever want to know, and I don't know what happened to #34, either. Here goes.

1. What time is it now? 11:58pm
2. Name that appears on your birth certificate Elizabeth Kate Bowles
3. Nicknames Bet, Betsy, Betster, Agnes, Zasu, Pod
4. Parents names Dave & Peg
5. Number of candles that will appear on your next Birthday cake Two. One will be a 4 and one will be a 3.
6. Date that you will blow them out February 26, '03
7. Pets Sadly, no
8. Eye color Blueish
9. Hair color Brownish
10. Piercing Fourish. 3 in one ear, 1 in the other
11. Tattoos No - hate tattoos
12. How much do you love your job I love it the depth and breadth it takes me to get to the bank to cash my paycheck.
13. Favorite color Mauve
14. Hometown Charleston, WV
15. Current residence Bluefield, VA
16. Favorite food Pasta
16. Been to Africa Good for you! I haven't.
18. Been toilet papering I have not!
19. Have you ever loved somebody so much that it made you cry Yes, damned hard.
20. Been in a car accident Been in three.
21. Croutons or bacon bits Croutons
22. Sprite or 7-up Don't like either
23. Favorite movie Lots. Ummm, "The Music Man"
24. Favorite Holiday Christmas Eve
25. Favorite day of the week Saturday
26. Favorite word or phrase "Oddly enough...."
27. Favorite toothpaste Currently Mentadent
28. Favorite Restaurants Buckhead Diner in Atlanta, Conch House in St. Augustine
29. Favorite Flowers Ones that don't smell like funeral homes
30. Favorite cola Diet Coke, but give me Snapple any day.
31. Favorite sport to watch College football
32. Preferred type of ice cream Chocolate, with nuts
33. Favorite Sesame Street Character Cookie Monster
35. Favorite fast food restaurant Arby's, though Wendy's is rising for their salads.
36. When was your last hospital visit? December 1995. Surgery.
37. What color is your bedroom carpet Beige
38. How many times did you fail your driver's test None, thank you.
39. Who is the last person you got e-mail from before this Something from GlennList
40. Have you ever been convicted of a crime Nope
41. What single store would you choose to Max out your credit card in Amazon, probably
42. What do you do most often when you are bored Sleep or go online
43. Name the person that you are friends with that lives the farthest away Marie-Noelle, Belgium
44. Most annoying thing people ask you You're Pat's sister??
45. Bedtime 2 amish
46. Who will respond to this the quickest I would have said Heidi, and I think hers did show up first.
47. Who is the person you sent this to who is least likely to respond I would have said Mike, and his hasn't showed.
48. Favorite all time TV shows Letterman, Law & Order, Andy Griffith, E True Hollywood Story, Behind The Music
49. Last person you went out to dinner with Mr M
50. Last movie you saw Just watched "Sixth Sense" on DVD (I'd seen it). Before that, "Man Who Wasn't There."
51. Time when you finished 12:26am
#

( 11:21 PM ) EK B
Get me a beret and a cup of espresso!!

Well, I started my big painting excursion today. As the poundsqueezers amongst you already know, the voluntary paint-by-numbers art adventure is underway. We of the #squeezers are trying to get together a little art show online consisting of our attempts at paint-by-numbers sets. And since it was my idea, I am obliged to be a part of it. And I wanted to, I was so psyched when my set arrived in the mail, I was practically prancing around the room going, "My art set is here, my art set is here!" And believe me, I do not prance.

I opened it up as soon as I got home, and after that, it's sat on my couch, staring at me. Taunting me. Daring me to leap forward into the world of tacky art. There's a 50s-type drawing of a very excited woman on the box, and I finally had to turn the box backwards on the couch, because she was starting to give me the creeps. Her eyes followed me around the room. I was thinking of just cutting her out and submitting her as my work for the show; I still may if things don't work out.

The box may look like it's right out of the fifties, but when you open the box, you're flung right into the 21st Century. I seem to remember from my childhood that these things were printed on a kind of cheapie hard canvassy material. Well, my soon-to-be masterpiece is printed on good old, grade-A American cardboard. Yee-ha.

However, some things remain the same. The second color I chose to use (#14) was that bright horrid neon orange that was in ALL paint by numbers. You know the one, too orange even for Halloween decorations? And it didn't cover my numbers! So I'm going to have to do a second coat of the whole disgusting orange set, or you're gonna see little "14"s everywhere.

On the good side, though, I'm growing very fond of #7. #7 is kind of a moss green. If things get to be a little too much for me trying to complete this, I may wack out and go wild with #7. Call it "Acid Flashback #7" or something.

I did, however, have a crisis of conscience from the very beginning. The set only comes with one brush and as paintbrushes go, well, it ain't much. I debated whether to get out a couple of my brushes, maybe a tiny one for corners and a squared one, simply cause I like square ones. Then I wondered if that would be cheating. And in the end, I decided it would be. I'll go it alone with the crappy brush on the crappy cardboard.

I'm suffering for my art. And soon it will be your turn.

#

( 10:37 PM ) EK B
Monday Mission!

1. Many children have blankets, or a favorite nubby stuffed animal that they like to keep near them for security. Do you recall what you had for your "security blanket" as a child? When did you finally give it up? What brought that about? I remember a large portion of my toddlerhood being taken up with a stuffed fox I was very attached to. He was red, with a white chest. His name was "Reddy Fox." What an imagination I had! I've no idea what happened to him, I'm sure he just went fur-bare in the midst of time and his stuffing started leaking and he "went away."

2. Now that you are a big kid, what do you have to give you that same sense of security? Nothing major. I had a little stuffed Huckleberry Hound I took to the hospital with me several years ago when I had to have surgery, but I ended up giving it to my nephew when he had a scary medical emergency himself. I also have Lily, a tiny doll with a plastic head and cloth body, that I like to take with me on trips (I've never flown without her) and I take her every year to our band's spring concert. I don't think I could play one without her.

3. With a little over four months left in 2002, have you accomplished everything you wanted to for the year? Is there anything that you would like to accomplish before the year is over? I daresay I've accomplished nothing. Then again, I don't really know what I was setting out to accomplish. Thinking about accomplishments isn't that fun for me.

4. I don't know about you, but it seems to me children have it pretty good these days. Game systems, computers in the home, microwaves, cable TV, the internet, cell phones and pagers, they certainly have a wider variety of technology than most of us did as children. What modern convenience, if any, do you think it would be good for children today to do without? What would they gain? I'd like to see Gameboys, PlayStations and Nintendos wiped clean from the face of the earth. No child should have a cell phone or pager, and no adult should have one unless they're in an occupation that involves the life and death of other people. I'm not Scroogey enough to think that kids shouldn't have Cable TVs, VCRs and computers, but they shouldn't be allowed to have them in their bedrooms. When a parent says, "Go to your room!" it shouldn't be a gift instead of a punishment. Kids shouldn't have privileges as entitlements. I guess what they'd gain is that they might not grow up such little snots.

5. Many of us have one thing in which we believe we excel. What do you do better than most? Well, there would have been a time I would have said "trivia" or "playing the clarinet." Now, however, I don't think I'm so hot at either. I don't know that I do anything better than most.

6. In the United States, and possibly other countries, teenagers in High School usually wind up falling into several social circles or "cliques." Stoners, Rich Kids, Jocks, Cheerleaders, Band, Drama, Goths, and so on (though the names are probably different today). What High School "clique" did you find yourself in? Was it by choice or did it just happen? Did you look down on other groups? (Aw it's ok, it was/is High School, we all did dumb stuff) I was a band kid. I don't guess I chose that, I chose to be in band, and it all followed. I don't know if I looked down on other groups, if so, maybe the "redneck group," but I wasn't one of those people who high-hatted others. I liked anyone who was nice.

7. (it begins) I have great news! I won the contest and we now have plane tickets to anywhere in the world. The bad news is we have to pick a place now and leave in the morning. I can't decide where to go, so you get to pick. Where should we go, and what is the first thing we should do when we get there? We'll first we're gonna trade your plane tickets in for cash, and you're gonna go to the bank and get some more cash out, and we'll book the QE II to England. First thing we'll get two fancy hotel rooms, rest up, have some drinks, and plan our itinerary.

BONUS: Must I beg you? You must, you must!

#

( 3:29 PM ) EK B
Today's blog will be rather short, and will end abruptly.

Since I've already mentioned "Law & Order" twice in one week, I thought I'd give a few minutes to something about the show I find rather amusing.

Back in the old days of "Dragnet," the episodes used to feature what my family called "The Jack Webb Players." A cast of actors who were sure to appear in almost every episode, playing whatever roles needed filling. Virginia Gregg was one. She was in every episode, playing a complaining neighbor one week, a bunco artist the next, a murderess the next, the wife of a policeman the next, well, you get the idea. Olan Soul� (the choir director in Mayberry on the "Andy Griffith Show") was another. Even cooler-than-all-of-us Jack Shelton (the voice of the "Bill" in Schoolhouse Rock) did his share of turns.

In the movie world, John Sayles does this.

And in TV, "Law & Order" does it.

I think the first time it really hit me was when I saw Camryn Manheim in an episode. She had maybe one line, but I recognized her, and said, "Hey! That was Camryn Manheim!" Then, a little while later, I saw her again. I said, "Hey! That was Camryn Manheim! Again!" I saw Jerry Orbach - Briscoe, the cop with the quip - as a defense lawyer on an old episode, that one really got me. So then I started watching.

It was amazing who all showed up as a different character on a different episode. So I started trying to keep track. And since this seems to be "Law & Order Week" at podview, I thought I'd do a little research and give you a list of "The Law & Order Players." I went to a neat website that had show synopses and cast lists, and that helped me fill in some blanks, especially season number-wise. Now, I didn't include actors playing recurring characters unless they showed up later playing someone else, and these are generally just actors I like, remember, or know by name or face. It's all subjective. Here's what I came up with:

Jerry Orbach, Lenny, played a lawyer for the defense in an episode from season 2.

S Epatha Merkerson, police captain Van Buren, has been a ghetto mom of the child victims in season 1.

JK Simmons, current police psychiatrist Skoda, was a police cameraman in season 3. (He must have been working towards his degree then)

Camryn Manheim has been: an antiabortion kook who put together a tasteless poster in season 1, a defense attorney for a deaf person in season 3, and the world's crappiest foster mother in season 4.

Lisa Eichhorn (star of "Yanks" with Richard Gere) has been: a kidnapping poetess in season 4, kidnapping the kid Camryn Manheim was a crappy foster mom to, the defendant in a fertility clinic killing from episode 9, and a woman who may or may not have killed a man in self defense in season 3.

Dennis Boutsakiris has been: a lawyer (the same one) in seasons 1 & 3, a different lawyer in season 8, and someone named "Al Archer" in an episode from season 11. I can't remember this episode at all, but I really hope he didn't play yet another lawyer. (If he keeps being a lawyer, why don't they keep him being Richard Berkley, the one from seasons 1 & 3?)

Cara Buono has been: a female prisoner Abby Carmichael sent up the river and still has a grudge against in season 9, and the madam of a college girl prostitution ring (overseen by her father) in season 6.

Lauren Ambrose ("Six Feet Under") has been: a mentally retarded ("I'm Special!") rape victim in season 8, the daughter of a murdered man in season 4, and a teenage friend of the eventual murderer (who's played by Claire Danes) in season 3.

Sam Groom has been: a defense attorney in season 2, a father accused of murder by one of his daughters' multiple personalities in season 5, and a lawyer trying to get a "DNR" order for Lindsay Crouse in season 10.

Lawrence Pressman has been: a lawyer in a great episode from season 3, where Frances Fisher is a brilliantly looney woman who commits murder, the same character in season 4, about a woman who plants a bomb for a cult leader, and a doctor selling false hopes to parents of autistic kids in season 5.

Robert Clohessy has been: the sleazy lawyer for the rapists of retarded Valerie in season 8, and a crummy father who taught violence to his son and ends up on trial for it in season 10.

Michael Zaslow has been: accused of killing a lawyer in season 5 , and a studio head in LA in season 7.

John Heard has been: father of a stabbed tennis player in season 4, and Lindsay Crouse's guilty husband in season 10.

Allison Janney has been: most importantly, a baby food company employee whose murder caused Sir Ben Stone's retirement in season 4, and a dead soap star's liason in season 2.

Frances Sternhagen has been: a housekeeper in season 1 and a woman who hired a hitman to avenge her son's death - this was the hitman who took his little West Highland Terrier to hits - in season 7.

Tony Roberts has been: defense attorney for the woman who pushed her daughter into porn and suicide in season 2, a man who's still grieving over his dead wife (who got fraudulent medical care) in season 5, and an attorney in a nasty divorce in season 8.

Lindsay Crouse has been: the world's most demanding psychiatrist in season 3 and a judge shot by her husband (John Heard) in season 10.

Now -- while doing this research, I happened to read further on this website. There's a FAQ and one of the questions startled me: I keep seeing so-and-so in different roles. Is there a list that lists actors who appear in different episodes in different roles?

Apparently, this is a phenomenon amongst L & O fans! There's even a name for them -- "Repeat Offenders." And there's a whole webpage devoted to them. Here it is. It's amazing. There are people who've been on the show 7 and 8 times playing different people. There are loads of Repeat Offenders I've never even heard of. Believe me, it's worth a look.

And it allows me to abruptly end my blog.

#

( 9:55 PM ) EK B
I've had this odd kind of connection to Rainer Werner Fassbinder for about 20 years. It started innocently enough.

My sister and I were playing the then brand new "Silver Screen" edition of Trivial Pursuit. The questions were hard. We were both struggling, but I was winning. And my sister was getting a little disgusted. I rolled and landed on my spot, and my sister pulled out a card. She read the question to herself and said, "If you get this right, not only do you automatically win, but I'm never playing this game with you again." And she went on to read a question that I'm paraphrasing, "What German filmmaker of whatever accomplishments died of a drug overdose in 1982?" (It was a very long question, so that was terribly paraphrased, I'm afraid.)

I didn't really even know who he was. But I had seen his name in my Home Film Festival catalogues, and I knew he made this movie that was about 150 hours long called "Berlin Alexanderplatz." That fascinated me. So, hell, I thought, why not? "Rainer Werner Fassbinder," I said. I'll never forget the look on my sister's face. It was between shock and hate. Needless to say, I automatically won the game, and you know, I don't know that we ever played again. I can't say we didn't for sure, but I don't remember that we did.

The fine folks at #squeeze, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, are all movie fans. And good, knowledgeable movie fans. Stennie, scriptress extraordinaire, is actually trying to break into movies. Mike's seen everything coming and going, old and new, Lily's a fan who knows her share, Michelle, too, she knows a lot of foreign films, and, well, I try to hang with them. But then there's Chrisp. His film knowledge intimidates and scares me. So one night I told my Rainer Werner Fassbinder story, and it kind of became a passing joke, and even made it a little into the #squeeze lore of catch phrases. (The old Monty Python line "I've fallen off my chair, Brian," was replaced with, "I've fallen off my chair, Rainer Werner Fassbinder," or acronymically, "IFOMCRWF") (I know. We're an odd group.)

So one night I actually asked Chrisp about RWF, and he recommended a movie of his I could see. It was called "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul." And it was a good movie. It was about an immigrant in Germany and his love affair with a German lady. It was very stark and avant-looking. But there was one thing in this movie that I loved. And something Chrisp would later tell me Fassbinder was very good at. The actors cast in all the parts in this movie were the most normal, off-the-street types you could imagine. Ali, of course, was a middle easterner, and his lady love was an older, short, plump, plain looking lady. And the whole time I watched this I was thinking, "If Hollywood got hold of this script, they'd be casting Leonardo DiCaprio as the immigrant and Demi Moore as his older lady love."

Sadly, that is true. And it's something I absolutely hate about Hollywood.

They won't let anyone be normal. Their idea of a heavy actress is Drew Barrymore. Their idea of an old woman is Michelle Pfieffer. They pair old farts like Harrison Ford and Clint Eastwood as leading men with nubile young women. And TV's just as bad. Other than "Roseanne," which I hate mentioning because it was such a terrible show, "The Drew Carey Show" is about the only other TV show I can think of whose characters are basically normal looking folks. Except that cartoon-looking woman with the make-up.

This is why a show I accidentally turned to this afternoon caught my attention, and held on.

It was a British TV movie called "Armadillo," and was on A & E. It was about an insurance loss adjuster (there's a good start), his job, a case he's working on, and his family. His family he keeps hidden from his "other world" because of their lower class immigrant ancestry. Oh, he loves them, and has a great relationship with them, even if he's a bit put-upon as the successful one in the clan. But he doesn't "show them around" to the upper crust management at the insurance company.

And his family were wonderful. All the women wore very thick glasses, like maybe there was some sort of hereditary eye disease amongst women in this family, only no mention was made of it. So all these women were wearing big thick owl-like glasses with clear frames, even the little 6 year old girl. And the women were all big. Big women with big busts. And mismatched shirts and pants. The men didn't wear glasses, but they all had pot bellies and bad haircuts. One was short and had a tatoo on his neck. It was great.

Stephen Rea, who I love, and who gets even better as he gets older, played Lorimer's (the main character) boss. He was not gruff and loveable. He was gruff and wacko. Think Lou Grant on acid. Fantastic.

The story was even moving along well, too. A good case ol' Lorimer is working on, investigating the burning of a large office building. He's also in love with a married woman, has someone from a past case on his back, and his dad is near death. In other words, his life is kinda unravelling.

Then something happened. Something horrible. They changed everything! After Lorimer is fired by Stephen Rea (surprise move even from the wacko boss), he figures out the mystery of the burned building on his own. And it involves - oh, great - Stephen Rea. When he confronts Rea with this knowledge, Rea is all cruel and subdued, leaving all his psychoticness behind. The woman Lorimer has had a terrible crush on goes away to Vienna and invites him along by note. After mailing his taped story of the burned building to all the papers in London, he gets to the airport just in time to find his woman and head off to Vienna.

WHAT A CROCK! The last 20 minutes of the movie are a total insult to the first 100. I was crushed.

Still, I loved his family and want to see a movie about THEM now.

BBC America used to show a TV show called "The Royle Family." The Royles were a shabby and ugly-looking family whose life revolved around watching TV in the living room. I think the only other location for that show was when they went to the kitchen. But the look of the family was magnificent. They were ugly, scruffy, the women were a bit tarty. The son was pimply. I want that on my TV!

Wouldn't it be cool if the current blonde bimbo DA on "Law and Order" would take a job elsewhere and be replaced with a little 4'11" Jewish lady with big hair who wore pantsuits and comfortable shoes? Or a man with one of those shoes with a 3" sole, because he was lame? A limper? Or even a brilliant Indian lady who wore a sari to court?

I want to see the current "Friends" evicted from their apartment and replaced by six different smart funny people: one fat, one black, one bald, one a Sikh who wears a turban, one who wears jeans and a t-shirt every day of her life, and one who'd rather watch TV than sleep with the other five.

I hope maybe even Rainer Werner Fassbinder could approve of that.

#

( 6:05 PM ) EK B
Disclaimer: Today's blog is intended for mature audiences. It is not for the young, the squeamish, the weak of heart or stomach, the cowardly, and toadies in general. If you fit into any of these categories, skip the blog, please. I will not be responsible for any injured psyches.

I had a shitty day at work. And when I say that, I mean it.

The man who owns the building our office is in has to be the tightwaddedest man on the face of the earth. He's one of the richest, if not the richest man in town, owns a huge house, drives a sports car, etc etc. But this man refuses to spend any money whatsoever on the general maintenance and upkeep of his building -- a building his own office is located on the second floor of! It's a harrassment and a sin, because as office manager of our little branch of TheCompanyIWorkFor, I know what we pay for rent on our office space. (May I just say that this man has no ties whatsoever to TheCompanyIWorkFor. He's a private citizen who owns the building.)

Here are a couple of examples of our office life: when this man, whom I'll call "Dick" (after my favorite of Dad's old-time phrases, "tighter than Dick's hatband"), got the agreement for us that we'd rent one half of the first floor of his then-being-renovated building, he got our input as to what we'd like. He got samples of paint, wallpaper, carpet. The three of us working there at the time all agreed on a carpet swatch, and he said, yes, that was his favorite too, it would be great. The carpet comes, it's something else he decided on at the last minute. About 17 grades cheaper than the original we'd all picked out, in the lovely color of "dirt brown." After about 3 years, it had to be replaced, it was actually becoming threadbare. He's been promising us vertical blinds for our front office windows for, well, how long have we been there, 6 years? For 6 years, he's been promising. This is a man who had originally "suggested" to us that we provide our own soap and toilet tissue for the bathroom. We have no cleaning person. The air conditioning breaks down on a regular basis because he's too cheap to buy a $2 filter. Oh, and the thermostat has a locked cover on it, so if we want it hotter or cooler, we have to call upstairs, like 6 year olds, to get someone to change it. I see you're starting to get the idea.

Our toilet (after laughing in Dick's face, we do get our soap, paper towels, and toilet tissue provided. When they "get around" to refilling all three.) backs up or overflows approximately once every 2 months. This building is screaming for a replumbing. Has been since the beginning of remodeling. But no, no replumbing, after every fifth or so overflow, he brings in some shadetree plumber who charges practically nothing to look at things, and it's fixed -- for another 2 months. There's a plunger and a mop in the corner of the bathroom, and although he expected us to plunge and mop in the beginning, when the water started to stand and the toilets remained filled, he began dispatching the women who work for him to take care of that. The women who work for him.

Today, I'd gone home for lunch. Instead of using my own happy and homey toilet before returning to work, I headed on back to the office. In a little while, I had answer the call of nature. And I did. And in the most delicate way I can put this, I "did it all." I "used the bathroom." In other words, it wasn't just pee.

After business was completed, I flushed the toilet, and proceeded out of the stall. Before I could get the door open, the toilet was overflowing. I sprung into action by trying to run out of the bathroom as quickly as I could. However, in my panic of being chased by rising excremental water (think Harrison Ford being chased by the big boulder in "Raiders"), I backed against the toilet and got sewage-soiled water all down the leg of my trousers. Frozen in my fear and disgust, I looked down only to realize -- the water had risen over my toes -- my naked toes, because I was wearing sandals!!!

I finally escaped from the bathroom. When I got back into our office, I was in full anger mode. I threw the bathroom keys against the wall (yes, we all have bathroom keys. Dick won't let the door stand unlocked.) I cursed, I slung my pocketbook. Then I left. I went home, though it was extremely hard driving in a position where my shittily wet pants wouldn't touch the upholstery of my car. I got home, took a shower, which, let's be honest, didn't help. Shitwater had touched my person. I put on new clothes and went back to work. And I cursed some more.

No one, I don't care who they are, should have to put up with that kind of (pardon me, but I have to) shit just to work in their job. Except maybe Dick, who should be forced to dive nude into a barrel of it.

And all the rest of the day my co-workers called me "Shitleg." #

( 11:34 PM ) EK B
While we're blogging music today, I have two questions. Rhetorical, to be sure, but if anyone wants to weigh in on them, have at it.

1) What is it with commercials using songs for their products that are totally inappropriate? You've got "Lust For Life" being used for luxury cruises, and "Fortunate Son" (my favorite CCR song, btw) used for blue jeans, with American flags waving like crazy. Geez.

2) Are there any bands out there whose names are a geographical place that are any damn good at all? Think about it: Alabama, Asia, Boston, Kansas, Chicago.... America, they weren't horrible, but they're not great.... There was a horrendous Alabama knock-off country band about 10 years ago called Atlanta (the city should have sued). Berlin, they sucked. Can anyone agree or disagree with this? #

( 6:12 PM ) EK B
OK, I've succumbed.

A few days ago, the brilliant Stennie (read her 8/13/02 "forwarding" blog, it's a must!) printed a list of questions she'd gotten from another blog. After reading it, I really really wanted to answer it myself, but was afraid of being a copycat. Then Michelle answered it, so now I've got to follow suit. I'm nothing if not a follower. Anyway, it's all about songs and how they figure in your life, and since music is so ingrained in every part of my life, well, it must be answered. Besides, there are no french kissing questions. So, here goes...

Name a song that...

reminds you of an ex-lover: I'm A Loser - the Beatles
reminds you of an ex-friend: No More 'I Love You's- Annie Lennox
makes you cry: Everybody Hurts - REM
makes you laugh: Then Came Lo Mein - Robert Earl Keen
makes you wanna dance: King of the Mountain - Southern Culture on the Skids
reminds you of the one you want: Maidstone - Squeeze
reminds you of the one you love: You Are The Everything - REM
you wish you wrote: Thirty Years of Tears - John Hiatt
you never want to hear again: Whiter Shade of Pale - Procol Harum
you want to get married to: It's A Miracle - Barry Manilow (well, it would be appropriate)
makes you want to mosh/bang your head: Lust For Life - Iggy Pop
sums up your teenage years: Pleasant Valley Sunday - the Monkees
you like to wake up to: What'd I Say - Ray Charles
you like from your parents' collection: Lover Please Come Home - Doc Watson
you love that a friend introduced to you: Red Dragon Tattoo - Fountains of Wayne (sorry to repeat Stennie, but it's the best song someone's ever clued me in to)
you love the video even more: Big Time - Peter Gabriel
reminds of your first crush: Say You Will - BoDeans
you love from a favorite movie: Supermodel - Jill Sobule (from Clueless)
makes you think of the moon: Juvenile Delinquents From A Planet Near Mars - the Polecats
makes you think of stars: Stardust - Hoagy Carmichael
makes you think of the sun: - That Lucky Old Sun - a standard, I first heard it by Paul Williams
makes you think of sex: Shoop - Salt n Pepa
makes you think of being alone: Losing My Mind - Holly Cole (by way of Steven Sondheim)
you love to hear at clubs: Genius of Love - Tom Tom Club

#

( 9:42 PM ) EK B
Today was Tuesday, and Tuesday was slow.

After sitting in the office staring at the wall till noon, I thought to bring a book back to the office after lunch. Well, wait, I wasn't totally staring at the wall, I did some net surfing, well, the kind of net surfing you can do via the computers at TheCompanyIWorkFor. I read Stennie's latest blog, where a bad driver finally gets his due (wooo!), and did a little looking at Graham High School Band's website...seems my little nephie, who's not in high school yet, only 8th grade, has been called up to play drums with the high school band during football season. Is that not cool?

Anyhoo. Oooooh, speaking of "anyhoo," how could I have left the Dell Dude off my list of people who are famous but shouldn't be, from yesterday's Monday Mission? What an oversight. But anyway. In looking at the Band's website, there is a message board I became rather fascinated by, teenagers leaving messages about high school banding in general, in a very, well, teenagery way. And one message contained a web address, and for some stupid reason I clicked on it. And I got the big TheCompanyIWorkFor "restriction" message. ATTENTION! [that part's in red] YOU HAVE TRIED TO ACCESS A SITE THAT HAS BEEN RESTRICTED BY THECOMPANYYOUWORKFOR. YOU'LL NOT GET INTO THIS SITE, BUT BELIEVE ME, LITTLE MISSY, WE KNOW YOU'VE TRIED. AND DON'T THINK WE WON'T MARK IT DOWN ON YOUR PERMANENT RECORD. YOU SICK LITTLE BASTARD. NOW, GET BACK TO WORK OR WE'LL CHOP YOUR HANDS OFF! THANKS, MANAGEMENT, THECOMPANYYOUWORKFOR. Well, that's paraphrasing, but you get the idea. So, when I got home for lunch, on the off-chance, I went into the site. It's apparently one of those sites (judging by the front page, I didn't venture past that) where there are pictures of people's hands that have been through meat grinders, and decomposing animals and the like. Great. TheCompanyIWorkFor's gonna love that. I'll probably have men in blue suits waiting for me tomorrow when I drag into work, 30 minutes late anyway. They'll cart me off in handcuffs. Or cart my job off in handcuffs.

So, I had lunch and realized I needed something else to occupy my afternoon if the office was going to continue to drag along. I picked up "The Prehistory of the Far Side," which I've had for some time, but haven't really looked at. If you like Gary Larson and "The Far Side," this is a really fun book. It has Larson's own story of his beginnings, early early cartoons, doodles, "mistakes," which are kind of the cartoon equivalent of out-takes, his cartoons that caused the most flak from readers (and letters from some of those readers), the original sketches for some cartoons, then ends up with his gallery of favorites. I spent most of the afternoon reading this, in between occasional spurts of busying myself with things that actually pertained to my job.

When I got home, I opted out of swimming. I realized I was tired. I've not slept the past two nights, and I think last night's reason was simply because I'm tired. So I curled up in the Comfy Chair, this time with all intent of falling asleep, and I did. Till about 9. I then realized, "Oh! Dinner." So I threw some chicken in a salad, and knew immediately that was not what I wanted. I ate four bites and *wwhiizzzzzhiing!* into the trash. Wasteful, wasteful me.

I was watching a bit of Little League World Series coverage on ESPN 2. Now, I hate pro baseball. I won't watch it. But I just love watching kids play baseball, there's a certain joy in it that brightens the heart. New York was one of the teams, and I wondered if this was the same New York team that was there last year, the one with Danny Almonte, the Little Leage pitcher who celebrated his team's victory by having a beer with the wife and kids. (He was way too old to be playing, in other words.) There's actually a neighboring town to me that lives baseball, so I understand this. One year, when my nephew was about 10 and playing this team in a championship, we saw when the opposing team (who'd won handily) took off their hats and headed for their cars, that some of them needed shaves! Their voices had changed -- we kept watching them to see if any of them actually drove themselves home.

Want to know what my favorite thing about America is? It used to be that we could elect our own President, but 2000 wiped all that from the slate for us, so I'll tell you what it is now. That no matter where you are in America, if you own a TV, you're generally no more than an hour away from a broadcast of "Law and Order." I may have slept through the 7 o'clock showing on A & E, and the 8 o'clock showing on TNT, but by gum, I hit an episode on A & E at 10. And it was a Bratt. Bratt good. Dzundza bad. ("Aww, mom! It's a Dzundza!" is a cry Stennie and I have been known to make.) That's the "Law and Order" scale of watchability: A Dzundza (the first season or two, when George Dzundza was one of the partners) is the worst, Sorvinos following close behind (Paul Sorvino), Lenny episodes with Ben Stone still the prosecutor come next, then the Lenny episodes still with Chris Noth but with Jack McCoy are next, the current lineup would be next (I hate the new girl DA), the Jessie L Martin episodes would come next (I couldn't even tell you Jessie's character's name, that's sad) -- then you get to the neplus ultra of "Law and Order." The Benjamin Bratt episodes still with Jill Hennessy, the Bratts with Angie Harmon, and the golden prize, Bratts with Carey Lowell. Doesn't get any better than that, and the 10 o'clock episode was just one of those.

My friend Mr M, who's still ensconced in Omaha, land of bologna on white bread with mayonnaise, hates Lenny (Jerry Orbach, by the way) on "Law and Order." He hates him because Lenny's so quick with a quip. Standing over a dead body, arresting a perp, testifying in court, always a quip. I like that about Lenny. I can only hope that if I ever make it back to New York City, and I should happen to be the victim of crime whilst there, I have a cop like Lenny standing over my crumpled body making a remark like, "Well, she couldn't make it here...." Or hopefully something better than that. He'll be a New Yorker, he'll think of something.

And that's Tuesday.
#

( 8:54 PM ) EK B
Well, may I just say apologies to all for that excrement that was yesterday's blog. I should know better to blog on an empty mind.

Monday is here, and time for Monday Mission. Yea!

1. If I could guarantee that the Fashion Police would not lay the smackdown on you, which favorite out-of-style article of clothing do you wish you could wear right now? Oh, this is easy. Embarrassing but easy. I loved blazers with the sleeves pushed up, just like we wore 'em in the 80s. In fact, let's go all the way. The blazer, a long blouse not tucked in, some baggy pants that ended ankle-ish, thick socks, and some loafers. There. Fashion Police, I'd like to turn myself in!

2. In your opinion, who is famous but shouldn't be? HA! How much time do you have? Well, let's see, right off the top of my head, and I know it's the trend and all, but Anna Nicole Smith. Can't sing, can't act, can't do anything, is famous. Let's add a little Britney Spears to that, a dash of Carson Daly, a slice of Bruce Villanch, a dollop of Carmen Electra, top it all with some Pam Anderson and Kid Rock, and you've got a nice pew stew.

3. Are there any new movies or TV shows that you are forward to this fall? Not really. I saw a commercial the other night that was funny, though, for this show called "Hidden Hills." It showed a guy coaching a girls' little league team in the neighborhood, and all the girls were named Caitlyn. "Caitlyn up to bat, Caitlyn's on deck. Give Caitlyn the sign to steal first, Caitlyn! Caitlyn, passed ball, head for home!" It made me laff.

4. If you had a time machine that you could use only one time (there and back), where would you go and what would you do?
I'd have to go back to 1964-65. I'd just soak in the music, movies, fashion, atmosphere, I'd buy up all the Beatles records and groovy 45s and Barbies I could get my hands on, then I'd come back smiling....

5. What cologne or perfume do you like to wear? Which brand do you prefer that your partner wear? Well, I've been going through a little crisis of smellition lately. After years of being addicted to Cool Water for women, it suddenly turned on me, and I'm not able to wear it anymore without it smelling like bug spray. Right now I'm using CKOne, but I'm not overly hepped about it. I don't have a partner, so part two of this is moot. I like Cool Water for men, and Hugo Boss, but if a guy smells nice and clean, that's fine by me.

6. Do you recall your first "French kiss?" Tell me about how that felt, and how it came about. Do you like them? Ewwww, if I do, I certainly ain't telling you about it. That's none of your business and it's in bad taste.

7. Excluding your partner...If you had the opportunity, who would you most like to French kiss? What are you, TWELVE?? This isn't a pajama party and I'm not answering your question.

BONUS: Can't you see that it's late at night? I can't see anything. Your tongue's in my eye.

#

( 11:48 PM ) EK B
My mind is a blank. And I don't mean that as in "a blank canvas, ready for all the paints in the paintbox." I mean that as in "a lobotomy victim."

Thanks to the wonderful people in #squeeze, and truly wonderful people they are, I got to bed this morning about 4:30. Fell asleep shortly thereafter, then fell awake around 5:20, only to toss and turn till about 7:00. Finally got out of bed around 12:30, finished my last load of laundry, hit the Comfy Chair, and slept off and on till about 3:00. Then went swimming, came home, fixed and ate dinner, sat down to watch TV, and slept till about 10:30. Damn - I hate when I do that! Now I won't sleep tonight, and I'll drag all day long tomorrow at work.

I wasted a day. Dammit.

Mike (man of mystery) came up with another slam-bang blog topic yesterday in #squeeze chat. "Rank the Deadly Sins." Now, I'm assuming he meant "rank them in the order they play in your life," as opposed to just picking your favorites. I went to a site that had the Deadly Sins listed, and it was quite interesting. It has the Sin listed, and the Virtue it supposedly sins against, then a brief description of the sin/virtue.

Two things came to me while looking at the list. Now, not that I haven't looked at a Seven Deadly Sins list - a while back, a few friends and I came up with a hypothetical "Seven Deadly Sins Film Festival," where we came up with a week long festival showing films that most describe each sin. But that's neither here nor there, I guess. The two things I came up with looking this time: First, this list has a lot of relevance to the non-religious world. Think about therapy and psychology. What are they trying to tell us to make our lives better? Look at the list, and it's kind of funny. "Just take this little pill and cut down on your sins, man. Everything will be fine." Second, and I'm sure this comes as a surprise to no one, I'm really steeped in my Deadly Sins. All except one, well, two I guess. And it's gonna be damned hard to rank them. But here goes.

Bet's Top Seven Deadly Sins Countdown (with no dedications, please)

1. Gluttony It was really hard to decide between numbers one and two on the list, it's pretty much a toss-up. But since I believe food, and the craving thereof, rules and ruins my life, bad ol' Gluttony won out.

2. Sloth Well, my above description of my day bears this one out, right? I'm really inertia-riffic. Most things I enjoy doing involve sitting around, with very few exceptions I hate exercise, and I'm so much lazier than I like admitting. Or being, for that matter. My sister is the antithesis of me, she's like someone stuck an electric cattle prod up her ass, she's on the go constantly. I think she got all the energy. I'm not quite sure what I got that she was supposed to have....

3. Envy Hey, I envy everybody, it's no secret. I have a problem with the description of envy on the chart, though. It says Envy sins against Love, and it's description contains this: "Envy is almost indistinguishable from pride at times." Can't agree with that one. Anyone care to enlighten me?

4. Lust Somehow this one makes me laugh. Lust is #4 on my Hit Parade of Sins! I certainly don't think of myself as an overly lustful person, well, not most of the time. It goes in phases. Well, on occasion, maybe yes. But Lust gets #4 because simply because it comes in ahead of the remaining Sins. I am lustier than I am the rest of these.

5. Anger I'm not one of these people always bubbling under the surface - as my friend Chrisp so wonderfully put it, a "seething cauldron of hate" - but I do let myself get really really angry at things. Frustrated and angry. Ask my clarinet. My music stand. Or any number of remotes, telephones, CDs, cassette tapes, or even shoes that have gone flying across the room when the lid blew off. I have my angry moments, yes.

6. Pride Now, here's where things get interesting. Based on the words alone, I would have easily put Pride as the last on my list of Sins. I mean, my Lord, I have Pride??? About anything??? No way. But this site, which says Pride sins against Humility (OK, I can accept that), also says, "Seeing ourselves as we are and not comparing ourselves to others is humility. Pride and vanity are competitive. If someone else's pride really bothers you, you have a lot of pride." Now, I read this several times, and it came close to blowing my mind. Based on that first sentence, Pride should have been #1 on my Hit Parade of Sins. I don't understand how comparing ourselves to others is prideful. I thought Pride was conceit, too much happiness with oneself. Ohhhh, wait a minute. Comparing yourself to others as in "keeping up with the Joneses," right? I got that. OK, I got that. I take comparing myself to others as in, "Oh, this person's so wonderful I could never measure up to them." Now this: "If someone else's pride bothers you, you have a lot of pride." Is this some kind of circular reasoning? I don't understand this at all, and it's a good thing I'm just blank instead of drunk. Thinking about that statement drunk could make my head explode. So I'll just put Pride #6 and forget about it for a while.

7. Greed "This is about more than money. Generosity means letting others get the credit or praise." I think of myself as a generous person, I say this at the risk of having Pride. Sure, I'm not saying that I never hear something and think, "Hmmm, how is this going to affect me?" but I do think of others. OK, we're talking sins here, no more horn-tooting. Anyway, like I said, with Pride being described as above, Greed comes limping in at #7.

This worked my brain more than I wanted to, but I bookmarked this Sin page to read when I'm a little more coherent. It's interested me.

And that's it from me, Kasey Casem, reminding you to keep your feet on the ground -- they're made of clay, you know -- but keep reaching for the stars! #

( 10:21 PM ) EK B
The other day Monday Mission asked about gadgets. I generally like gadgets, if they work. I hate stuff that doesn't work.

I guess that's why I like the little CD opener so much. It's cute, compact, and with a quick *swish*, your CD is open. Well, open except for that annoying strip of sticky paper they put across the top of the case. I really hate that. They need a gadget that takes care of that, then sends a message to give an electrical shock to the man whose idea it was to use the sticky strip.

Something else I hate? Shaving my legs. I don't know why this is. In the general scheme of things in life, it's not the worst chore one does. I mean, it's not as bad as grouting the bathroom tile, or cleaning out the refrigerator. But I treat it like it is. I find it hard to believe those people who profess to shave their legs and underarms every single day. I think they're lying, or else they're crazy.

It shouldn't bother me that much. I'm a showerer rather than a bather, so what's the big deal? Hoist a leg, rub rub rub, swipe swipe swipe and it's over with. Same with underarms. Sure, there's the stinging, and the dry skin, and the 90% chance you'll end up with a huge chunk out of your leg that'll bleed and bleed for several hours, then scab over only to itch, be scratched, and bleed and bleed for several more hours. And ever jump into a chlorinated pool within an hour of an underarm shave? EEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!

So I try products. Sure, I've used both Neet and Nair (who wears short shorts? not me, but I'll try your product anyway), both of which work, but suck, because you have to walk around covered in that crap for a while before you can wash it off, and it smells like shit, and although I've been lucky in the burning rash department, they've been known to cause them. I've tried both the products advertised on TV, Sweet Serenity, a waxy concoction you heat in the microwave, and Nads (God, what a name), the waxy concoction you don't heat. Both were dreadful.

Sweet Serenity was a lie from the get-go. They talked about the ease of use, the effectiveness, and the re-usability of the yeow!-that's-pulling-all-the-hair-off-my-legs strips, all of which were false. It was messy, took off approximately one patch of leg hair, and the cloth strips didn't last at all and unravelled on the first washing. I also notice you don't see commercials for Sweet Serenity anymore. Good. I hope they went bankrupt and their factory is an abandoned shell somewhere on the outskirts of whatever town they're from.

Nads was a little better, but not by much. Their claims that it's pain-free are a blatant falsehood. In their commercials, they show a woman getting a strip of hair pulled away from her eyebrow. And smiling. I know the minute the director yelled cut, she had to have kicked the Nads lady and yelled, "Son of a bitch motherfucker what the hell do you think you're doing to me, you torturing bitch I hope you burn in hell!" I wanted to yell that, and I only used it on a leg. My main problem with it, though, is that it's so incredibly gooey and sticky (kind of like the alkacumber), you can't spread it on your body parts. That little plastic stick just won't cut it. Literally. It won't cut it. I doubt a hunting knife would. Therefore, you've got this heap of goo on your leg, and the cloth strip isn't gonna pull that off with your hair. So, it's a no-go. Just more trouble than I'm willing to put out for a smooth leg.

OK. Now they're advertising (and have been for a while) the latest one: Epil Stop & Spray. Geez, how I hate that name. And in the commercial, they say it fifty times. "Epil Stop & Spray, Epil Stop & Spray, Epil Stop & Spray!" GRRRRRRRR! It even became the butt of jokes on Letterman when Alan Kalter did announcements for it, showing how it took all the hair off his back. (And what happened afterwards, which was hilarious, but I won't repeat it here because it's a bit crude. And you know, I'm such a lady.) So when I recently found some of the stuff on sale in a store, I thought, "why the hell not."

Epil's claims are: There are no heavy, messy waxes to deal with, no 'burn your eyes and make your nose run' smell, no inconvenient extras like paper strips that stick to your fingers and everything else as well, and in the end NO HAIR! This comes directly from their site. So let's see. Nope, no heavy messy waxes. No paper or cloth strips, they got me there. However, this stuff is basically like Nair. It's Nair Lite. And sure, maybe my eyes didn't burn and my nose didn't run, but their happy little citrus smell is basically a bottle of Nair with a few drops of an orange in it. In other words, it's nothing I'd spray around the living room before company comes.

There are also two things I have a beef with. One is that I swear in their commercials they make mention of smooth legs, underams, and bikini line. In the paperwork I got with the product it states very plainly: NOT FOR USE ON UNDERARMS. There's even a little roll-on bottle of Baby Epil that you use on your face. Your FACE! But they say "no" to the underarms. I wanna see that commercial again, because I know underarms are either shown or mentioned.

The second is, they say in the commercials (and on their site, oddly enough) all you do is spray it on, wait 5-15 minutes, and wipe off with a cloth. It's not quite that easy. First of all, the sprayer kinda sucks, and unless you hold it completely upright, which is damned hard if you're spraying your legs, the stuff won't come out of the sprayer. Then, in the paperwork, it mentions that after the wiping away, you have to rinse your legs with plenty of "cool, clear water." I loved that. "Cool, clear water." Who makes this stuff, The Sons of the Pioneers?? I mean, generally, this is OK, I'd be in the shower most of the time anyway. But what if you need a quick "shave and go?" And you don't rinse with "cool, clear water?" Will your legs explode while you're at that all-important business meeting?

However, I gotta say, it's the best I've used yet, and I didn't really seem to mind it as much as I do shaving. So I might stay with it till I find something that pisses me off about it. Or something newer and shinier comes along.

And I swear, one night I'm gonna use that face stuff on my underarms. It's gentle enough for your face, for Pete's sake. And it comes in a roll-on! They're just begging for people to use it on their underarms. Either it's really safe, or they've got lawyers standing by to hand out money to people like me who just had to do it. #

( 10:04 PM ) EK B
Pipe down kids, Auntie Bet's not feeling well. Bit of an upset tummy. So she's going to answer the Friday Five, then go lie down for a bit more.

1. Do you have a car? If so, what kind of car is it? "She said, do you have a car? And I said, do I have a car!"~ (thanks, Old 97s) Yes, I have a car, a '99 Subaru Forester, forest green. I like it. Lots.

2. Do you drive very often? Sometimes I think driving is about all I get done. I normally go back and forth to Blacksburg a couple of times a week, drive to work every day, go to haircuts and pedicures in Tazewell (about 30 mins. away), and just get in the car and drive when I need to clear my head. And since I'm not a flyer, I drive on trips.

3. What's your dream car? You know, it's odd, I used to always have a "dream car," some foreign fancy sports number or something, but as I've gotten older, I don't care. The shiny sports car isn't that big a deal. If I could keep The Noonle (my Subaru) and still have any car in the world given to me, an old Nash Metropolitan would be ultra groovy. Oh, the new Minis are real cute, too.

4. Have you ever received a ticket? Yep, two speeding tickets. One was not long after I started driving, and I was totally entrapped. I was in the passing lane, going the limit (55), and a car came up behind me and rode right on my tail for a while. Then it put its flashers on, so I thought it was a rude asshole who didn't think I was going fast enough, so I sped up to pass the car in the right lane and get over so the car could pass me. Turned out to be a cop. Totally shitty. I was young and hopeless, so I didn't even know HOW to argue about it, so I ended up with a ticket for 64 in a 55. The second ticket I got a little over 5 years ago, 67 in a 55. And I was doing every bit of it, baby. In a hurry and totally speeding. A young state trooper pulled me over, and I thought, "Oh, shit, kid on a power trip, I'm gonna get it." He was so nice, and polite, and called me "ma'am." I still got the ticket, though.

5. Have you ever been in an accident? I've been in a few, but all minor, and I've never been injured (thankfully). One, I was backing out of a parking spot at the dentist's in the pouring rain, with a swollen face, and hit a metal pole. Another, I was starting my car for work, and my snow-covered boot slipped off the clutch. The car lurched forward - into the house! Not that much damage though. And the worst one I had, I was (back in college, in a '79 Mustang) going down a curvy hill, and it was covered with gravels, and I started sliding and slid into a bank. Hard. Not hurt, but the car was. But the kicker was - at the time this happened, I was cutting class! Thankfully again, The Noonle is accident-free. #

( 10:20 PM ) EK B
Some Ideas That Died On The Drawing Board

Bowling Boots In the early/mid sixties, Beatle Boots were all the rage. Sleek, black suede, pointed toes, and just enough heel to be cool. The bowling community tried to cash in on this craze, by coming out with bowling boots, an over the ankle bowling shoe. A slip on, it was blue and red vinyl with tan stripes, a crepe sole, and the size appliqued onto the back. At the 1966 fashion shows, its designer was beaten badly about the head and shoulders, and the bowling boot vanished forever.

Low-lighters An effort to make things easy for the studious type. Where a high-lighter is used to bring the important words to the fore, Mr Alfred Pinney invented the low-lighter, for use marking across the really unimportant filler in a textbook. It makes the words virtually fade into the paper, and the student won't be bothered by them at all. Deemed to be "more trouble than it's worth," the low-lighter itself faded into oblivion.

Alka-beans A hybrid lab-produced vegetable. Developed by southern scientists hoping to invent a gasless brown bean. Upon planting, the bean set is injected with alka-seltzer, and cultivated to maturity. A problem-prone experiment from the start, the beans were very hard to cook owing to their fizziness. They tended to pop the top right off the pot. If a cook was successful in cooking the beans to fruition, the bean soup tended to bubble and pop, staining clothes and frightening the children. Besides, they tasted terrible. Also at this time, and alkacumber (gasless cucumber) was grown. The injections caused a gooey and sticky cucumber. No one was impressed.

Perpendicusteer� In 1960, the great minds in Detroit came up with an idea to help the busy driver in a crowded city. With one push of a button, the driver could activate Perpendicusteer�, which would immediately turn all wheels at a 90 degree angle and lock them into place. Then the driver could parallel park with ease, or cross a median or sidewalk to get to another street. Proved to be a disastrous idea when test drivers 1) often forgot Perpendicusteer� was in place upon starting a car, and ran over children, dogs, and hot dog stands, and 2) were not warned that the vehicle had to be put into park before Perpendicusteer� could be engaged. Sadly, a driver was killed when his car suddenly went at a 90 degree angle while previously going forward at 60mph. The driver combusted. The project was shelved weeks later.

Eyeplugs Humans everywhere have been helped by the development of earplugs and noseplugs, so the world of science naturally concluded eyeplugs would be a beneficial invention. Designed to be used for blocking out light, the idea died before it had barely begun when tests proved that the eyeplug hurt like hell and the wearer could get the same benefit from closing his/her eyes. Run up the flagpole, but not saluted.

Scissors Holsters Originally designed as a convenience to office workers, teachers, students, gift-wrappers, and, well, anyone who lost their scissors, the developers also hoped they'd become a hot fashion statement. They were basically exactly the same as a gun holster, with the cup modified to hold one or two pairs of scissors. In pre-testing, the wearers were ridiculed by the general public, and a woman who flopped down hard on a chair was injured in her nether regions. Deemed not suitable for the public at large.

Face Gloss During the late sixties and early seventies, the "natural look" was in. Perfect skin and blushed cheeks were not in vogue, and if a woman - especially a liberated woman - had them, she was doomed. Scientists came up with Face Gloss, to be worn on the face to give an appearance of oily pores and imperfections. Never got past the promotional stages when it was discovered that not only was it dangerous (it blocked the sweat glands, causing heat stroke in several menopausal women), but it was also just lip gloss in bigger pots with bigger applicators. A total washout. #

( 12:55 PM ) EK B
Dammit. I came home for lunch, fixed a yummy meatloaf sandwich, sat down on the sofa, and -- "Sunset Boulevard" was just starting on FLIX. Now I have to go back to work, and I wanna watch the rest of "Sunset Boulevard!" That movie rocks. Hoping for a repeat tonight, possibly.... #

( 5:53 PM ) EK B
Do you ever lose money? I mean, not in the walking around the house saying "Oh, dear, where did I put that money?" way, but in the holding your head in your chin saying, "Holy shit, I can't have spent all that money!" way. This happens to me quite often, and has happened this past week with such a fury it's frightened me out of my pants. Which, of course, has frightened everyone else in my general proximity.

I normally get $120 cash out of my paycheck. I keep out $20 for Mowing Boy, under the yellow doggie on the windowsill, kudos to those of you who got that one right on my friendtest, and I have $100 left to buy lunches and incidentals for two weeks. It seldom lasts, and I find myself at the ATM machine a few times, but that's OK. It's a system that basically works for me.

I got paid Wednesday, July 31. When I deposited my paycheck, I kept out $185. $100 for me, $20 for Mowing Boy, under the yellow doggie on the windowsill, still not too late to take the friendtest, and $65 for Mr M, for payment of my half of the DVD player. It's August 6, and I have $11 standing between me and abject poverty. In six days, I've gone through 89 bucks, and I have no idea where it went!

OK, tell a lie, I know that $23.86 went to the video store, where I rented my movie and bought a $20 gift card for someone. I've bought lunch & dinner a couple of times. That's not big bucks, maybe $25. But where is the rest? I DON'T KNOW!

It kills me, not only that there's only $11 between me and a hell of a dull weekend, but that I can account for so little I've spent. I'm like a child: "Well, where did you spend that money?" "*sniffle* I don't know! *waaaaaaaaaah*"

I got to thinking yesterday. About a possible solution to my problems. The Christian Bet's Fund. I could get a quasi-famous actress, like maybe Sandy Duncan, to do my commercials, walking along in front of the Poderosa, as the traffic whizzes by her.

"If you don't want to cry, please turn the channel now. (pause)

Most good citizens rise bright-eyed each morning, put on their crisp clean clothes, and head off to work. And they come home on payday knowing their happy families will have security for another month.

But not all good citizens are so lucky. (cue poignant music) This is Bet. She drags herself out of bed each morning, looking for the 'Tuesday' ensemble of the five work outfits she owns. She showers - if her water hasn't been turned off - dresses, rummages through her bedroom for clean socks to wear, then drags herself to the office. And her payday doesn't last nearly so long as yours.

But you can help. For only $75 a month, about the price of a cup of Starbuck's coffee a day, you can make sure that Bet has the financial happiness she so richly deserves. With your monthly donation, you'll get a picture of Bet, in her less casual 'Monday' outfit, and a short history of her finances. After each donation, you'll recieve a personalized letter from Bet herself detailing her progress, with an occasional photo of her paying a utility or credit card bill in her new outfit.

Look at this girl - does she not deserve security?

And you'll go to bed tonight in your $100,000 house content with the knowledge that you're helping another human being. One who might be in your shoes had she more education, breeding, ambition, and an all-around better personality.

Won't you open your heart to Bet? Bet needs you." (fade to black)

I've read where Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward have adopted tens of these kids on TV. If they'd see it, and a few of their fru-fru Connecticut buddies....

I think it could work.

#

( 11:18 PM ) EK B
Time for Monday Mission!

1. Ever considered just deleting your Blog and not doing it anymore? What prompted that and what stopped you? The not serious answer to that is, yes, every day when I sit down to write it. However, I actually did consider it for a very short time, a day or so, maybe. I'd written a blog I thought was pretty funny about a friend of mine. Apparently, he didn't see it the same way and got all snotty over it. So I deleted the blog. Then I just thought, "shit, I won't do this anymore, forget it." Then, I started thinking better of it, and another bud emailed me saying, "I hope you're not going to stop blogging over this...." So I continued on.

2. How about a quick review of the last movie you saw? Saturday, I saw "The Man Who Wasn't There." Weird movie. About a man who cuts hair, though he doesn't think of himself as a barber, and the turns his life takes when he decides he needs $10,000 for an investment opportunity. A slow-paced movie, you don't really realize how much happens from beginning to end. It's black and white, and beautifully filmed. It has a section that absolutely blew me away, where the main character Ed is telling us a story in narration. The phone rings, his character gets up, answers the phone, goes to a meeting, commits a murder, looks at his hands, which have no blood on them (I liked that shot), goes back home, sits back down -- and continues the story in narration from where he left off! Brilliant. There's a very strange and brief dream sequence that's thrown in with no warning, and some really weird-ass references to Roswell, NM and aliens. Loved all the actors in it. Two thumbs up, a good time was had by all.

3. What's your favorite gadget? Are you lusting for any new ones? Will you ever be satisified??? Wow, as much as I like gadgets, I guess I'll be satisfied, because I can't think of anything right now. I'll tell you one thing I like, and it's a cheapie little number. The CD case opener. I like that one. The only "gadget" type thing I can think of right off-hand I'd like to have is a palm pilot. I don't even know why -- I have no social life! But I've seen people do some cool things with them. A little more expensive than the 99 cent CD opener.

4. What "table game" do you enjoy playing most with other people? Have you played it lately? I love games. Trivial Pursuit, I guess, is my favorite, and I played it about a week or so ago. And won! (mmwahahahahahahahahahaha)

5. Have you ever been obsessed with something so much that it was close to causing you physical or mental harm? If not, have you known anyone else who has? I've been obsessed with things -- depends on what you mean by "physical or mental harm." I certainlly make myself depressed, and if I get really hinky about something, like I did several weeks ago, I can do things like scratch the skin off my arms. I guess when that's your life, you don't see anything notable about it.

6. Did you grow up in a family or community that displayed racist or prejudiced attitudes? Did it influence you in any way, either toward or away from those views? How did you manage to avoid it, or did you? Nah, my family wasn't racist. I mean, depending on how strict you are about that. My grandmother called any show with black people in it, ie Diff'rent Strokes, Amen, The Jeffersons, Sanford and Son, The Cosby Show, "Them Colored People." "I had dinner, washed the dishes, and then I watched Them Colored People." But she was like 85 years old. Our folks were always careful to stress that we were no better than anyone else, race-wise. They were actually good about that, when I think of it. I grew up in a small town in the south, and there was a black community, if not a large one. I just remember us all being friends in high school, I don't know, maybe I sugar coat my memories. Having said that, I gotta say I work with someone, someone I otherwise like, who has incredibly racist views, and I've tried to make her understand I hate the things she says, but it flies right over her head. Wish I could stand up to her more, but I can't.

7. Good grief, I am starving! You got anything to eat around here? Oh, my dear, sweet, Promoguy. You picked a bad night to visit. I had to send out for salad for dinner. I have one bag of microwavable popcorn left, and some eggs and orange juice. If you can whip that up into a tasty snack, have at it, it's all yours.

BONUS: What did you tell them? Well, I told them we "did it," of course!

#

( 11:23 PM ) EK B
I had an interesting occurrence today.

I got a call from my mom today. She was having dinner for my sister and her family (they just got back from vacation last night), and invited me along. Having nothing else to do (my bud Mr M is on a sojourn west), I accepted the invitation.

I ate an entire meal in the presence of five other people without muttering a single word.

My mom talks a lot. My sister talks so much it literally makes me tired. Having them together at the table is something else. Add to that that sister's family just returned from Florida, which they love, and my mom and dad live most of the year in Florida, which they love, and you've got a recipe for disaster. Had I wanted to add to the conversation, it would have been impossible. Not a space available.

So I sat. And ate in silence. Now I'm popping Rolaids.

Is it that I'm just too used to living by myself? For a person who loves music, and loves her music loud, and craves TV and movies and the whole thing, I just find myself lately wanting peace and quiet. Maybe it's the effects of my job. But I just want peace and quiet. Then again, maybe for me, peace and quiet is just not enduring conversation I'm not interested in. I don't know.

So it probably wasn't a terrific idea that I started watching the Anna Nicole show. Now, I'm making no apologies whatsoever for this; her ETHS was one of the most fun I reviewed. But there was a lot of dog barking, a lot of Anna Nicole screaming "ShgrPi! ShgrPi!" (the dog's name is Sugar Pie), and a lot of whining, pissing, and moaning. In my BTM review of Ozzy Osbourne, I mentioned the fact it was hard to watch him because he was obviously, well, not the brightest crayon in the box. It's about that way with Anna Nicole. I was sure, a few minutes into things, I'd be watching because the girl is one pill away from death, and I'd want to see which week she'd pop the magic one. After watching the first half hour, I'm just not sure. Is she stoned? Is she retarded? Is she both?

Anyway, I fell asleep during the second episode, but I'm sure it'll get loads of airplay before next week, and I can catch up with the progress of the train wreck I'm sure this show is going to be. #

( 6:17 PM ) EK B
I just looked at today's Friday Five. You can skip on to something else. This is gonna be a snore, I promise.

1. What is your lineage? Where are your ancestors from? To be honest, I have no idea. On my dad's side, you have the Bowles and Kimberlin families. I'm thinking Anglo-something? British? Even Irish? On my mom's side, you have the Johnson and the Fowler families. Who knows? I never much thought about it, never traced my roots, and never really heard any family stories of anyone back farther than great grandparents.

2. Of those countries, which would you most like to visit? Well, I've visited England. But I'd sure like to try Ireland. Can I just say I'm Irish?

3. Which would you least like to visit? Why? I don't know. If Johnson is some corrupted form of Johanssen, and I've got Swede in me, I'll pick Sweden. But I don't care, really. I don't.

4. Do you do anything during the year to celebrate or recognize your heritage? Yes, once a year I avoid my dad's family reunion at all costs. (thank God my mom's family doesn't have one)

5. Who were the first ancestors to move to your present country (parents, grandparents, etc)? Well, I do know that my Mom's grandmother's mother (my great-great grandmother) was an Indian. Oh, sorry. Native American. So I'd lay bets she was the first ancestor in the country.

On that note, since this was such a piss-poor Five for me, I'll tell you a story.

I knew nothing of my great grandmother's mom, other than her being an Indian. Oh, sorry. Native American. But my great grandmother (who lived till I was well into my teens), inherited a lot of her "ways," which she passed down to my mom. My mom still believes in "incantations" and the like, and loves to tell the story of how, when she was a young girl, she had a wart. That she hated. And her grandmother took a bean leaf and rubbed it on my mom's hand and said an incantation over it, then wrapped a little cloth bandage around my mom's finger, over the wart, and had her bury the bean leaf under a rock for two weeks. After the two weeks were up, my mother had to turn the stone and get the bean leaf. When she did, she took off the bandage and her wart was gone. She swears to me this is true. #

( 1:01 AM ) EK B
I just can't hold it back anymore. Who on earth owns the Clash's back catalog of songs? The band members themselves can't possibly be selling "Should I Stay Or Should I Go" to a liquor company and "London Calling" to Jaguar. If they have, I'm going to go into a deep depression. #

Ramblings on things no one cares about

The current mood of agnes_g@hotmail.com at www.imood.com

Back To The Comfy Chair

Bet's 2003 Movie List

The Carey Salt Soldier, Adopted Mascot of Podview