Wednesday, July 27, 2005

And Now A Word from Our Sponsor

Because I cannot tolerate spending a third day talking about Noah's waterpark in my basement, I'm going to turn my attention to the totally ridiculous and inane.

1. Example The First:



Already this product suffers from poor naming. Who among us didn't look at this title and instantly think PEE-lit (a urinary intervention product) rather than its intended "Peel-It," (a culinary intervention production) I decided to CLICK THROUGH and check it out.



Woah! I mean....WOAH! NOW what was the first thing you thought of? And if that weren't bad enough, check out some of the actual dialogue ripped from the web site commercial:

"Peelit's easy grip power handle fits the contours of your hand!"

"With the lightest touch, Peelit will caress your carrot peels away!"




Caressing Carrot Peels? No wonder everybody thinks The Internets are a dangerous place. Seriously. I'm quite certain this product was prominently featured in several episodes of "Sex and the City" and just screams delivered in a plain brown wrapper to protect your privacy. The million dollar question is, do you suppose they put a "not for personal use" warning on it like they did for the scrubbing bubbles toilet wand?

2. Example the Second
My email spam is at an all-time high lately. First of all, somebody is quite adamant that I should change careers. Just tonight Teri and Tyron both begged me to become a cop. They said I could be "that guy" in the bar who could say, "Yeah, I'm a cop" and then everybody would buy me drinks. Of course, the email also pointedly reminded me this occupation would require a criminal justice degree. Doh. There's always a catch....

3. Example the Third
Gmail is getting spammier (And Leon is getting Larger! <--- obscure movie reference) which is a bummer, but it's not so bad that it's not still amusing. For example, today's subject line winner was "U.S. Hot Stocks highlights crotch redundant." Thanks for the tip there, buddy. Now...step away from the Peelit.

Oh, and another funny one: "Baroque on Beaver!"
Wait. That's my gig.
Nevermind.

4. Example the Fourth
A trip down Spam Lane wouldn't be complete without another shout out to the website Spamusement! ( Poorly-drawn cartoons inspired by actual spam subject lines!) These are always clever, but today's somehow struck me as terribly funny. Pun Included.

DON'T MISS NEIL DIAMOND!

And Now A Word from Our Sponsor

Because I cannot tolerate spending a third day talking about Noah's waterpark in my basement, I'm going to turn my attention to the totally ridiculous and inane.

1. Example The First:



Already this product suffers from poor naming. Who among us didn't look at this title and instantly think PEE-lit (a urinary intervention product) rather than its intended "Peel-It," (a culinary intervention production) I decided to CLICK THROUGH and check it out.



Woah! I mean....WOAH! NOW what was the first thing you thought of? And if that weren't bad enough, check out some of the actual dialogue ripped from the web site commercial:

"Peelit's easy grip power handle fits the contours of your hand!"

"With the lightest touch, Peelit will caress your carrot peels away!"




Caressing Carrot Peels? No wonder everybody thinks The Internets are a dangerous place. Seriously. I'm quite certain this product was prominently featured in several episodes of "Sex and the City" and just screams delivered in a plain brown wrapper to protect your privacy. The million dollar question is, do you suppose they put a "not for personal use" warning on it like they did for the scrubbing bubbles toilet wand?

2. Example the Second
My email spam is at an all-time high lately. First of all, somebody is quite adamant that I should change careers. Just tonight Teri and Tyron both begged me to become a cop. They said I could be "that guy" in the bar who could say, "Yeah, I'm a cop" and then everybody would buy me drinks. Of course, the email also pointedly reminded me this occupation would require a criminal justice degree. Doh. There's always a catch....

3. Example the Third
Gmail is getting spammier (And Leon is getting Larger! <--- obscure movie reference) which is a bummer, but it's not so bad that it's not still amusing. For example, today's subject line winner was "U.S. Hot Stocks highlights crotch redundant." Thanks for the tip there, buddy. Now...step away from the Peelit.

Oh, and another funny one: "Baroque on Beaver!"
Wait. That's my gig.
Nevermind.

4. Example the Fourth
A trip down Spam Lane wouldn't be complete without another shout out to the website Spamusement! ( Poorly-drawn cartoons inspired by actual spam subject lines!) These are always clever, but today's somehow struck me as terribly funny. Pun Included.

DON'T MISS NEIL DIAMOND!

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

A: Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief

Q: Name Three Professionals that did NOT visit the S.S.Tuna Today

I'm afraid to say "what a day" because the "what a day" still has 3.5 hours left. But to give you an idea of the morning:

5:55am
Bounced out of bed by an enormous thunder.
Observed pouring rain outside.
Ran like the WIND to check on the basement.
No water.

6:00am
Went back down to check one more time before going back to bed.
WATER WATER EVERYWHERE. AGAIN
Ran like the WIND upstairs yelling, "It's on my side" to get the turkey baster (seriously)
Already had a huge pot in the basement
Started sucking.
Started cussing.

6:02am
Decided the turkey baster was worthless. Got a pail.
Continued bailing.
Not more sucking.
Lots more cussing.

6:05am
I bail.
Gram runs it outside.
I bail
Gram runs it outside.

6:15am
Gram declares this sucks.
Gram drives like the WIND to the store.
We are the proud owners of a submersible sump pump.

6:30am
Attached hoses to the sump pump, turned it on and prayed.
Pump Pump Pump.
No more bailing.
More cursing because a part of my basement is once again WET.

A setback to be sure, but at least we saw the problem firsthand and managed to contain it to a much smaller area than yesterday.

The rest of the day was filled with visitors. Hello Mr. Drain Cleaner Man! Snake those drains! Hello TunaVille City Water People! Stare at those manholes! Hello Mr. Furnace Man! Thank goodness THAT puppy is ok. Hello Mr. Dumpster Man! We think we love you most of all!!!

Now that we are dumpster-fied, the real fun has begun. We have been hauling and pitching all afternoon. It's hard to get too sentimental when things are covered with slime. Most interesting problem so far: Getting at two boxes on the basement floor that just fit underneath a wooden workshelf. I couldn't move the boxes no way no how, so I tore at the side. Books. Yikes. The problem was, the paper absorbed water and the books expanded. Everything was totally jammed. The solution? A hammer. Seriously. I whomped on them until they budged.

Bye Bye "Go Ask Alice" -- I remember when you were considered to be radical reading. You're still a good book.

Most ironic toss of the day was awarded to the dripping, nasty "14,000 Things to be Happy About." Evidently ending a sentence with a preposition must be in that list somewhere. It's now being happy in the dumpster. Where it belongs.

A: Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief

Q: Name Three Professionals that did NOT visit the S.S.Tuna Today

I'm afraid to say "what a day" because the "what a day" still has 3.5 hours left. But to give you an idea of the morning:

5:55am
Bounced out of bed by an enormous thunder.
Observed pouring rain outside.
Ran like the WIND to check on the basement.
No water.

6:00am
Went back down to check one more time before going back to bed.
WATER WATER EVERYWHERE. AGAIN
Ran like the WIND upstairs yelling, "It's on my side" to get the turkey baster (seriously)
Already had a huge pot in the basement
Started sucking.
Started cussing.

6:02am
Decided the turkey baster was worthless. Got a pail.
Continued bailing.
Not more sucking.
Lots more cussing.

6:05am
I bail.
Gram runs it outside.
I bail
Gram runs it outside.

6:15am
Gram declares this sucks.
Gram drives like the WIND to the store.
We are the proud owners of a submersible sump pump.

6:30am
Attached hoses to the sump pump, turned it on and prayed.
Pump Pump Pump.
No more bailing.
More cursing because a part of my basement is once again WET.

A setback to be sure, but at least we saw the problem firsthand and managed to contain it to a much smaller area than yesterday.

The rest of the day was filled with visitors. Hello Mr. Drain Cleaner Man! Snake those drains! Hello TunaVille City Water People! Stare at those manholes! Hello Mr. Furnace Man! Thank goodness THAT puppy is ok. Hello Mr. Dumpster Man! We think we love you most of all!!!

Now that we are dumpster-fied, the real fun has begun. We have been hauling and pitching all afternoon. It's hard to get too sentimental when things are covered with slime. Most interesting problem so far: Getting at two boxes on the basement floor that just fit underneath a wooden workshelf. I couldn't move the boxes no way no how, so I tore at the side. Books. Yikes. The problem was, the paper absorbed water and the books expanded. Everything was totally jammed. The solution? A hammer. Seriously. I whomped on them until they budged.

Bye Bye "Go Ask Alice" -- I remember when you were considered to be radical reading. You're still a good book.

Most ironic toss of the day was awarded to the dripping, nasty "14,000 Things to be Happy About." Evidently ending a sentence with a preposition must be in that list somewhere. It's now being happy in the dumpster. Where it belongs.

Monday, July 25, 2005

On the Waterfront

So yes. Basement. Water.

The good news is, as of this moment, the water is gone. I have been babysitting sump pumps and high powered fans and an enormous dehumidifier all day long.

The bad news is, the drain hasn't yet been looked at and the forecast for tonight? Rain. The forecast for tomorrow? Rain. In fact, let me qualify the forecast. Tonight it isn't just rain. It's FLOOD. IN JULY. I fully expect to be downstairs with a turkey baster and a bucket if necessary, because I'm NOT slogging through ankle deep water again tomorrow.

Meanwhile, we are trying our very best to always look on the bright side of life (whistle whistle). Needing badly to purge, it's going to be a lot easier tomorrow when Mr. Dumpster comes to town. No use crying over it. Out it goes!!

But I need to be mindful of TinyTuna. The water was a shock to all of us, but I was a wee bit forgetful that the basement is sock-full of memories. Thinking she was putting on a Grade-A Mellydrama about the fact that we were NOT going for ice-cream last night, I gave her a long pointed lecture about emergencies, working together and making sacrifices for a little while. Come to find out later that she was crying about her basement memories. Through a face-full of tears she said, "Mom, can you just show me what is ruined NOW so I can get it over with?"

Bad Mom. Bad, Bad Mom.

So we are all making adjustments. We are sad and overwhelmed, but a tiny part of us is excited. In the long run when this is nothing more than a "remember when" kind of story, it will have had a lot of positive aspects. The basement for the first time in forever will be clean. It will be inhabitable. It will be something more than "junk, junk, junk, junk, junk" as my lovable but obnoxious nephew told me when he was all of 4 years old. And although getting there is going to be quite a journey, maybe the best news of all? When we redo the basement there will be NO *chip*chip*chipping and NO *spackle*spackle*spackling. Glorious!

PS -- Fabio is fine. Luckily he lived up on the top of a midsized cabinet. He was the first one rescued and is now hanging out in the living room -- a little confused, but no worse for wear. Much like the rest of us.

On the Waterfront

So yes. Basement. Water.

The good news is, as of this moment, the water is gone. I have been babysitting sump pumps and high powered fans and an enormous dehumidifier all day long.

The bad news is, the drain hasn't yet been looked at and the forecast for tonight? Rain. The forecast for tomorrow? Rain. In fact, let me qualify the forecast. Tonight it isn't just rain. It's FLOOD. IN JULY. I fully expect to be downstairs with a turkey baster and a bucket if necessary, because I'm NOT slogging through ankle deep water again tomorrow.

Meanwhile, we are trying our very best to always look on the bright side of life (whistle whistle). Needing badly to purge, it's going to be a lot easier tomorrow when Mr. Dumpster comes to town. No use crying over it. Out it goes!!

But I need to be mindful of TinyTuna. The water was a shock to all of us, but I was a wee bit forgetful that the basement is sock-full of memories. Thinking she was putting on a Grade-A Mellydrama about the fact that we were NOT going for ice-cream last night, I gave her a long pointed lecture about emergencies, working together and making sacrifices for a little while. Come to find out later that she was crying about her basement memories. Through a face-full of tears she said, "Mom, can you just show me what is ruined NOW so I can get it over with?"

Bad Mom. Bad, Bad Mom.

So we are all making adjustments. We are sad and overwhelmed, but a tiny part of us is excited. In the long run when this is nothing more than a "remember when" kind of story, it will have had a lot of positive aspects. The basement for the first time in forever will be clean. It will be inhabitable. It will be something more than "junk, junk, junk, junk, junk" as my lovable but obnoxious nephew told me when he was all of 4 years old. And although getting there is going to be quite a journey, maybe the best news of all? When we redo the basement there will be NO *chip*chip*chipping and NO *spackle*spackle*spackling. Glorious!

PS -- Fabio is fine. Luckily he lived up on the top of a midsized cabinet. He was the first one rescued and is now hanging out in the living room -- a little confused, but no worse for wear. Much like the rest of us.

Emergency Broadcast Message

I'd like to tell you my stories from Cedar Point -- America's Roller COAST

I'd like to tell you about the Bach Coffee Cantata and what it's REALLY about.

I'd like to tell you about my cool Sunday and singing in church with my daughter.

I'd like to tell you about my relaxing Sunday afternoon, listening to music at a local greenhouse that is celebrating it's 25th anniversary.

I'd like to. But I can't.

Post-church we came home to a basement of standing water. Ankle-deep standing water. And remember, my basement is the repository for all things Memory Laden from TinyTuna. Not to mention a fair amount of stuff of mine.

Anyway, my day was lugging things out of the basement. Trying to save things that were dry, and starting to pitch things that were soaked. I have just turned off the 2nd sump pump (after six hours or so), and now, it's a basement of extreme dampness and small puddles instead of Titanic II -- We Were Just Kidding Before. Tomorrow is plumbers and water removal guys and wet-vacs, Oh My!!

Oh, and we lost power for most of the day too -- just to add to our specialness.

I may not be a sweatball, but I'm an exhausted-ball.

Emergency Broadcast Message

I'd like to tell you my stories from Cedar Point -- America's Roller COAST

I'd like to tell you about the Bach Coffee Cantata and what it's REALLY about.

I'd like to tell you about my cool Sunday and singing in church with my daughter.

I'd like to tell you about my relaxing Sunday afternoon, listening to music at a local greenhouse that is celebrating it's 25th anniversary.

I'd like to. But I can't.

Post-church we came home to a basement of standing water. Ankle-deep standing water. And remember, my basement is the repository for all things Memory Laden from TinyTuna. Not to mention a fair amount of stuff of mine.

Anyway, my day was lugging things out of the basement. Trying to save things that were dry, and starting to pitch things that were soaked. I have just turned off the 2nd sump pump (after six hours or so), and now, it's a basement of extreme dampness and small puddles instead of Titanic II -- We Were Just Kidding Before. Tomorrow is plumbers and water removal guys and wet-vacs, Oh My!!

Oh, and we lost power for most of the day too -- just to add to our specialness.

I may not be a sweatball, but I'm an exhausted-ball.

Unconscious Screamings

Sunday. Well, it was. Unconscious Mutterings.

I say...And You Think
  1. Believing:: I see 2 inches of water in my basement
  2. Invasion:: Of 2 inches of water in my basement
  3. Boys:: Nowhere to be found when I have 2 inches of water in my basement
  4. Island:: obviously not my basement because there are 2 inches of water in my basement
  5. Repeatedly:: Water. Basement. 2 inches
  6. Normal:: NOT 2 inches of water in my basement
  7. Hex:: Spellbinding 2 inches of water in my basement
  8. Tuxedo:: never wear when there is 2 inches of water in my basement
  9. Virgin:: First time for 2 inches of water in my basement
  10. Cereal:: 2 inches of water in my basement made it soggy
Guess what happened in my house today???

OK, Real Answers. But the water thing is still real.

Believing: Seeing is
Invasion: Of the Body Snatchers

Boys: Men

Island: Magic

Repeatedly: Over and Over and Over Again
Normal: HA!

Hex: Curse
Tuxedo: Junction

Virgin: Mary
Cereal: Special K


Water. Basement. Mess. Bad.Bad.Bad.

Unconscious Screamings

Sunday. Well, it was. Unconscious Mutterings.

I say...And You Think
  1. Believing:: I see 2 inches of water in my basement
  2. Invasion:: Of 2 inches of water in my basement
  3. Boys:: Nowhere to be found when I have 2 inches of water in my basement
  4. Island:: obviously not my basement because there are 2 inches of water in my basement
  5. Repeatedly:: Water. Basement. 2 inches
  6. Normal:: NOT 2 inches of water in my basement
  7. Hex:: Spellbinding 2 inches of water in my basement
  8. Tuxedo:: never wear when there is 2 inches of water in my basement
  9. Virgin:: First time for 2 inches of water in my basement
  10. Cereal:: 2 inches of water in my basement made it soggy
Guess what happened in my house today???

OK, Real Answers. But the water thing is still real.

Believing: Seeing is
Invasion: Of the Body Snatchers

Boys: Men

Island: Magic

Repeatedly: Over and Over and Over Again
Normal: HA!

Hex: Curse
Tuxedo: Junction

Virgin: Mary
Cereal: Special K


Water. Basement. Mess. Bad.Bad.Bad.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Friday Feast

It's not Friday! I've already eaten dinner and I'm full! Too bad! It's Friday's Feast anyway! Now, with added exclamation points!!!!!

Appetizer: What Kind of Car do you drive? If you could make a change for any other car, what would you want to drive?
Kind of Car: OLD
What kind of change would I make? NEW

Soup: Take Your Phone Number and Add Each Number Together Separately (example 8+6+7+5+3+0+9=38) - what's the total?
First of all, the song reference should be 6-6-7 NOT 8-6-7
Second of all: Total = 34
Third of all: That has to be the oddest question I've ever heard....

Salad: When Were You Last Outside, And What Were You Doing?
45 minutes ago. Putting strawberry pot and two flower baskets out in the driveway, so they could benefit from the lovely evening rain. Go, Rain, Go!

Main Course: What is Your Favorite Restaurant, And What Do You Usually Order There?
This is a deliciously unanswerable question. Too many restaurants, too many choices. This is the good thing about NOT being a picky eater.

Dessert: Name Three Things in Which You Occasionally Indulge
Books
Music
Fiber Arts (Sewing, Spinning, Weaving(!!), Knitting)
Mike's Hard Lemonade
My Boyfriend
Food
Not following directions

Friday Feast

It's not Friday! I've already eaten dinner and I'm full! Too bad! It's Friday's Feast anyway! Now, with added exclamation points!!!!!

Appetizer: What Kind of Car do you drive? If you could make a change for any other car, what would you want to drive?
Kind of Car: OLD
What kind of change would I make? NEW

Soup: Take Your Phone Number and Add Each Number Together Separately (example 8+6+7+5+3+0+9=38) - what's the total?
First of all, the song reference should be 6-6-7 NOT 8-6-7
Second of all: Total = 34
Third of all: That has to be the oddest question I've ever heard....

Salad: When Were You Last Outside, And What Were You Doing?
45 minutes ago. Putting strawberry pot and two flower baskets out in the driveway, so they could benefit from the lovely evening rain. Go, Rain, Go!

Main Course: What is Your Favorite Restaurant, And What Do You Usually Order There?
This is a deliciously unanswerable question. Too many restaurants, too many choices. This is the good thing about NOT being a picky eater.

Dessert: Name Three Things in Which You Occasionally Indulge
Books
Music
Fiber Arts (Sewing, Spinning, Weaving(!!), Knitting)
Mike's Hard Lemonade
My Boyfriend
Food
Not following directions

Friday, July 22, 2005

Ridin the Ro-o-o-o-ller Coaster!

Oh yes. I'm behind. I have posts half-written and saved in draft. Do I have any plans to finish what I've started and catch up?

NOT TODAY!

We're off to Cedar Point to delight and torture our stomachs while we stand in line for hours on end reading bad t-shirts. Yeah, baby!!

I promise to catch up tomorrow. Promise.

Ridin the Ro-o-o-o-ller Coaster!

Oh yes. I'm behind. I have posts half-written and saved in draft. Do I have any plans to finish what I've started and catch up?

NOT TODAY!

We're off to Cedar Point to delight and torture our stomachs while we stand in line for hours on end reading bad t-shirts. Yeah, baby!!

I promise to catch up tomorrow. Promise.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Have Bach, Will Travel

As I sat in my usual Saturday-morning-at-the-Grill-Dogs-Having-Breakfast haze, GramTuna asked me if anything was new. Not having full mental capacity before my morning Diet Coke, I said no, I didn't think so.

After having a few slugs of my Diet Coke, it occurred to me that indeed, something was new. I told her I had received an email late Friday night for an upcoming gig. And then I started laughing and laughing and laughing, because the combination of what it was and where it was was so unbelievable, I couldn't do anything else BUT laugh.

Finally I pulled myself together enough to say, "Well, it's Bach."
"Bach what?"
"Coffee Cantata."
"Bach where?"
"Beaver Island."
"WHAT???"

Let me explain where Beaver Island is. First, pull out your travel map of the mitten (right hand, palm facing you, fingers together, but thumb out). I live approximately half an inch down from the center of the palm. Now. To get to Beaver Island, travel from where I live to the tip of the pinky.

THEN

Continue moving approximately three inches northwest from that point, and right next to BFE Island is Beaver Island. HA!

(insert your punchline here)

TinyTuna started in with "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" ... "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" ... "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand." I looked over at her and said, "This is Bach, not Scooby-Doo." GramTuna just shook her head through the rest of breakfast and muttered, "No other family would ever be having this conversation. Why can't we be normal?" TinyTuna answered, "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" which made us laugh all the harder.

So with score in hand, I'm getting ready to go to "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" on July 29th. I just need to figure out, what does one wear when one sings Bach to the Beavers?




Not a graphic for my gig, but too good to pass up.
Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand

Have Bach, Will Travel

As I sat in my usual Saturday-morning-at-the-Grill-Dogs-Having-Breakfast haze, GramTuna asked me if anything was new. Not having full mental capacity before my morning Diet Coke, I said no, I didn't think so.

After having a few slugs of my Diet Coke, it occurred to me that indeed, something was new. I told her I had received an email late Friday night for an upcoming gig. And then I started laughing and laughing and laughing, because the combination of what it was and where it was was so unbelievable, I couldn't do anything else BUT laugh.

Finally I pulled myself together enough to say, "Well, it's Bach."
"Bach what?"
"Coffee Cantata."
"Bach where?"
"Beaver Island."
"WHAT???"

Let me explain where Beaver Island is. First, pull out your travel map of the mitten (right hand, palm facing you, fingers together, but thumb out). I live approximately half an inch down from the center of the palm. Now. To get to Beaver Island, travel from where I live to the tip of the pinky.

THEN

Continue moving approximately three inches northwest from that point, and right next to BFE Island is Beaver Island. HA!

(insert your punchline here)

TinyTuna started in with "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" ... "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" ... "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand." I looked over at her and said, "This is Bach, not Scooby-Doo." GramTuna just shook her head through the rest of breakfast and muttered, "No other family would ever be having this conversation. Why can't we be normal?" TinyTuna answered, "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" which made us laugh all the harder.

So with score in hand, I'm getting ready to go to "Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand" on July 29th. I just need to figure out, what does one wear when one sings Bach to the Beavers?




Not a graphic for my gig, but too good to pass up.
Beeeeeavveeeer IIiiiiislaaaaand

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

  1. Tolerate:: Put up with
  2. Release:: Let go
  3. My soul:: Anima
  4. Sax:: ophone
  5. HP:: Hewlett-Packard
  6. Worth:: Net
  7. Rockstar:: Wannabe
  8. Terrify:: Scare
  9. Knock me off my feet:: Surprise!
  10. Taunt:: Tease
Hrm. You figure it out...And then mutter along HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

  1. Tolerate:: Put up with
  2. Release:: Let go
  3. My soul:: Anima
  4. Sax:: ophone
  5. HP:: Hewlett-Packard
  6. Worth:: Net
  7. Rockstar:: Wannabe
  8. Terrify:: Scare
  9. Knock me off my feet:: Surprise!
  10. Taunt:: Tease
Hrm. You figure it out...And then mutter along HERE.

Friday, July 15, 2005

Friday Feast

It's Friday yet again. Let the feasting begin!

Appetizer: What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?
1. Kay (Green Kay Tuna)
2. No, because then nobody would know how to call me for supper.
3. The Biggest Lottery Winner in US History!!

Soup: If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors and styles would you probably use the most?
First of all, if I'm a fashion designer, the rest of the world is in deep trouble and should take stock in Hefty Bags and Whiskey Barrels. But, if I were a fashion designer who actually had a sense of fashion, I would incorporate a lot of natural fabrics instead of chemical-esters and artificial-ayons, because the long horned Polyester is an endangered creature. The colors would be natural colors because face it, have you ever seen a blue sheep? The styles? Comfy.

Salad: What is your least favorite chore, and why?
Judging by the fact that I just ran out of knives and tshirts, I might say dishwashing and laundry. But truth be told, my toilet just spoke in tongues, so I guess I'd have to say spending quality time with my Scrubbing Bubbles (DO NOT USE FOR PERSONAL HYGIENE) Toilet Brush.

Main Course: What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
Cemeteries, especially cemeteries with squishy grass. I do have a memory of walking past a small church cemetery near my Grandparent's house in Maryland, and seeing a man (he was probably a caretaker, but might as well have been a werewolf for all I knew...) straightening the tombstones by grabbing them with both hands and rocking them back and forth into place.

My somewhat irrational fears were further exacerbated this spring, as GramTuna, TinyTuna and I found ourselves on the wrong side of LOCKED GATES at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Massachusetts. After several moments of sheer panic, and a fair amount of driving from one gate to another, getting out of the car and actually trying the lock (really locked), examining the grounds near the gates to see if we could go around (no way), having more panic attacks and yelling, "This isn't FUNNY," we drove around a bit more and found yet another entrance that was still open. Once I calmed down, I vowed that I was never entering a cemetery at DUSK (the time it closed, by the way) ever again. I think Thoreau, Alcott, Emerson and Ichabod Crane would all understand.

Dessert: Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
On my butt.
1. My pirate ducks
2. Two screwdrivers (of the hardware, rather than barware variety)
3. A popsicle stick. Sans popsicle.





Daily Haiku -- Friday Free-For-All

Here, your Haiku roams free from the constraints of subject, content, or style. Anything you want to write, you can write, just as long as it's still a Haiku.

Man from Nantucket...
Damn! Lim-ric-ku just won't work.
Classic Culture Clash.

Friday Feast

It's Friday yet again. Let the feasting begin!

Appetizer: What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?
1. Kay (Green Kay Tuna)
2. No, because then nobody would know how to call me for supper.
3. The Biggest Lottery Winner in US History!!

Soup: If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors and styles would you probably use the most?
First of all, if I'm a fashion designer, the rest of the world is in deep trouble and should take stock in Hefty Bags and Whiskey Barrels. But, if I were a fashion designer who actually had a sense of fashion, I would incorporate a lot of natural fabrics instead of chemical-esters and artificial-ayons, because the long horned Polyester is an endangered creature. The colors would be natural colors because face it, have you ever seen a blue sheep? The styles? Comfy.

Salad: What is your least favorite chore, and why?
Judging by the fact that I just ran out of knives and tshirts, I might say dishwashing and laundry. But truth be told, my toilet just spoke in tongues, so I guess I'd have to say spending quality time with my Scrubbing Bubbles (DO NOT USE FOR PERSONAL HYGIENE) Toilet Brush.

Main Course: What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
Cemeteries, especially cemeteries with squishy grass. I do have a memory of walking past a small church cemetery near my Grandparent's house in Maryland, and seeing a man (he was probably a caretaker, but might as well have been a werewolf for all I knew...) straightening the tombstones by grabbing them with both hands and rocking them back and forth into place.

My somewhat irrational fears were further exacerbated this spring, as GramTuna, TinyTuna and I found ourselves on the wrong side of LOCKED GATES at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Massachusetts. After several moments of sheer panic, and a fair amount of driving from one gate to another, getting out of the car and actually trying the lock (really locked), examining the grounds near the gates to see if we could go around (no way), having more panic attacks and yelling, "This isn't FUNNY," we drove around a bit more and found yet another entrance that was still open. Once I calmed down, I vowed that I was never entering a cemetery at DUSK (the time it closed, by the way) ever again. I think Thoreau, Alcott, Emerson and Ichabod Crane would all understand.

Dessert: Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
On my butt.
1. My pirate ducks
2. Two screwdrivers (of the hardware, rather than barware variety)
3. A popsicle stick. Sans popsicle.





Daily Haiku -- Friday Free-For-All

Here, your Haiku roams free from the constraints of subject, content, or style. Anything you want to write, you can write, just as long as it's still a Haiku.

Man from Nantucket...
Damn! Lim-ric-ku just won't work.
Classic Culture Clash.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

A Look to the Future, A Look to the Past

Yesterday was a big day for a little guy, as my NephewTuna turned a big six years old. This weekend shall be the time time for partying down and consuming large amounts of yummy food,the best of all being the most Holy and Wondrous Blueberry PAH (did I tell you that kid was awesome?). When we can no longer eat another bite, he shall open his presents and cause intense jealousy amongst his sibling and cousins because somebody CAVED IN THE WORST WAY and bought him GameBoy.

I thought we had a deal going here -- No GameBoys. TinyTuna keeps asking for one, and I keep not buying her one, along with many, many other things I won't buy her. Speaking of which, did you know that the latest and greatest graduation gift for girls is not a car -- an equally ridiculous proposition, if you ask me -- but Implants? Lord have mercy, my child is destined for a life full of disappointments.

But I digress. GameBoys. I have many reasons for not plunking down the cabbage and buying one -- and truth be told, if somebody up and bought her one (but please don't) I wouldn't be all that upset -- but as I've said before, kids plug in and tune out all too soon, and I'm trying to postpone that day as long as possible.

To be fair, TinyTuna and her two cousins are very good at keeping themselves occupied without benefit of batteries or control pads. On vacation, the three of them got involved in a long game of Hide and Seek. Keeping in mind that it wasn't raining, and the three of them actually turned off the TV to play, I thought this was pretty cool. Plus, it meant the adults could continue reading at the kitchen table, which is always a bonus. So the three of them picked someone to be "it" and started running all over the house.

Did you know it's possible to play Hide and Seek without cheating? I always thought the rule of counting was "one -- two -- three -- four -- forty -- forty one -- forty nine -- fifty -- fifty six -- sixty -- READY OR NOT HERE I COME!" Evidently, some people actually count without skipping numbers.

So they'd run around and hide and eventually find each other and play again. With a three story house, the hiding places were plenteous, and they were having a good time. As another round began, and the counter began counting, we heard a commotion coming up the outside stairs. NephewTuna along with Dad (BigBrotherTuna) came running in through the sliding door with Dad saying, "this is the PERFECT hiding spot!" We who were mere hide and seek observers looked up from our respective reads, and then looked down again. The two of them ran into the kitchen and the next thing you know, NephewTuna is crawling into the kitchen cupboards with Dad repeating, "You are going to WIN! Nobody will EVER FIND YOU!"

"58-59-60-Ready or Not Here I Come!"

As the seeker seeked downstairs, we continued to read. Every now and again the cupboard doors banged as if a little boy were having a time staying still. I chuckled and said, "He's not going to WIN if he doesn't keep quiet." As the seeker made her way upstairs, Dad instructed NephewTuna to be quiet. *thump*thump* went the cabinets in response.

"I can't find him," the seeker said. "Has anybody seen him?"

The three of us shrugged.

Suddenly from the depths of the kitchen cabinet was a much louder *thump*thump*thump* and a "DAAAAAD!"

"I spy you! I spy you!"
"Buddy! I told you to be quiet!"
"BUT DAD, I HAVE TO GO TO THE POTTY!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The three of us fell over laughing as Dad extricated Nephew from the cabinet, a little too late, as it turned out. The perfect hiding spot was foiled only by the call of nature. But soggy drawers and all, they had a blast -- electronics free.

Happy Birthday my partner in blueberry goodness. I can't wait for Saturday when we (as TinyTuna put it so fabulously during vacation) can be rePIEdrated.

Ba-DUMP-bump

******************************************

Tonight I am off to my first weaving lesson, courtesey of GramTuna and my birthday. I am the lucky recipient of one of my Grandmother's looms, and it's hard to know who is more excited, my Grandmother or me, to have the opportunity to learn more about it and put it to use. BSTuna was the first to take weaving lessons (she now has Grandmother's biggest loom), and now I am the second. Before long, we'll be getting GramTuna and TinyTuna in there as well, ensuring this creative endeavor continues amongst the Tuna Clan.

I'm hoping I carry a wee bit of my Grandmother's skill and patience at this new craft. We talked about weaving when I saw her on vacation, and she told me that once I learned, weaving was very peaceful and creative. Two things I love -- and need.

Thanks GramTuna! I hope The Weaving Lady knows what she's in for!
Thanks Grandmother. I hope to do you proud.



Daily Haiku -- Thursday Thinker

The Daily Haiku will post "deep" question every Thursday, which may be answered in Haiku.Today's Thinker:
What does, or what would, make your life complete?

From a birthday pie
to a Grandmother's old loom
Gifts of the heart, all.

A Look to the Future, A Look to the Past

Yesterday was a big day for a little guy, as my NephewTuna turned a big six years old. This weekend shall be the time time for partying down and consuming large amounts of yummy food,the best of all being the most Holy and Wondrous Blueberry PAH (did I tell you that kid was awesome?). When we can no longer eat another bite, he shall open his presents and cause intense jealousy amongst his sibling and cousins because somebody CAVED IN THE WORST WAY and bought him GameBoy.

I thought we had a deal going here -- No GameBoys. TinyTuna keeps asking for one, and I keep not buying her one, along with many, many other things I won't buy her. Speaking of which, did you know that the latest and greatest graduation gift for girls is not a car -- an equally ridiculous proposition, if you ask me -- but Implants? Lord have mercy, my child is destined for a life full of disappointments.

But I digress. GameBoys. I have many reasons for not plunking down the cabbage and buying one -- and truth be told, if somebody up and bought her one (but please don't) I wouldn't be all that upset -- but as I've said before, kids plug in and tune out all too soon, and I'm trying to postpone that day as long as possible.

To be fair, TinyTuna and her two cousins are very good at keeping themselves occupied without benefit of batteries or control pads. On vacation, the three of them got involved in a long game of Hide and Seek. Keeping in mind that it wasn't raining, and the three of them actually turned off the TV to play, I thought this was pretty cool. Plus, it meant the adults could continue reading at the kitchen table, which is always a bonus. So the three of them picked someone to be "it" and started running all over the house.

Did you know it's possible to play Hide and Seek without cheating? I always thought the rule of counting was "one -- two -- three -- four -- forty -- forty one -- forty nine -- fifty -- fifty six -- sixty -- READY OR NOT HERE I COME!" Evidently, some people actually count without skipping numbers.

So they'd run around and hide and eventually find each other and play again. With a three story house, the hiding places were plenteous, and they were having a good time. As another round began, and the counter began counting, we heard a commotion coming up the outside stairs. NephewTuna along with Dad (BigBrotherTuna) came running in through the sliding door with Dad saying, "this is the PERFECT hiding spot!" We who were mere hide and seek observers looked up from our respective reads, and then looked down again. The two of them ran into the kitchen and the next thing you know, NephewTuna is crawling into the kitchen cupboards with Dad repeating, "You are going to WIN! Nobody will EVER FIND YOU!"

"58-59-60-Ready or Not Here I Come!"

As the seeker seeked downstairs, we continued to read. Every now and again the cupboard doors banged as if a little boy were having a time staying still. I chuckled and said, "He's not going to WIN if he doesn't keep quiet." As the seeker made her way upstairs, Dad instructed NephewTuna to be quiet. *thump*thump* went the cabinets in response.

"I can't find him," the seeker said. "Has anybody seen him?"

The three of us shrugged.

Suddenly from the depths of the kitchen cabinet was a much louder *thump*thump*thump* and a "DAAAAAD!"

"I spy you! I spy you!"
"Buddy! I told you to be quiet!"
"BUT DAD, I HAVE TO GO TO THE POTTY!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The three of us fell over laughing as Dad extricated Nephew from the cabinet, a little too late, as it turned out. The perfect hiding spot was foiled only by the call of nature. But soggy drawers and all, they had a blast -- electronics free.

Happy Birthday my partner in blueberry goodness. I can't wait for Saturday when we (as TinyTuna put it so fabulously during vacation) can be rePIEdrated.

Ba-DUMP-bump

******************************************

Tonight I am off to my first weaving lesson, courtesey of GramTuna and my birthday. I am the lucky recipient of one of my Grandmother's looms, and it's hard to know who is more excited, my Grandmother or me, to have the opportunity to learn more about it and put it to use. BSTuna was the first to take weaving lessons (she now has Grandmother's biggest loom), and now I am the second. Before long, we'll be getting GramTuna and TinyTuna in there as well, ensuring this creative endeavor continues amongst the Tuna Clan.

I'm hoping I carry a wee bit of my Grandmother's skill and patience at this new craft. We talked about weaving when I saw her on vacation, and she told me that once I learned, weaving was very peaceful and creative. Two things I love -- and need.

Thanks GramTuna! I hope The Weaving Lady knows what she's in for!
Thanks Grandmother. I hope to do you proud.



Daily Haiku -- Thursday Thinker

The Daily Haiku will post "deep" question every Thursday, which may be answered in Haiku.Today's Thinker:
What does, or what would, make your life complete?

From a birthday pie
to a Grandmother's old loom
Gifts of the heart, all.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Daily Haiku



Daily Haiku -- Wednesday Words

Every Wednesday, the Daily Haiku will offer up a word that you must somehow incorporate into your haiku. Today's word is transform.

To transform is to
surpass the ordinary
More than change. Rebirth.

Daily Haiku



Daily Haiku -- Wednesday Words

Every Wednesday, the Daily Haiku will offer up a word that you must somehow incorporate into your haiku. Today's word is transform.

To transform is to
surpass the ordinary
More than change. Rebirth.

Join the Club

I am here today to admit one of my several thousand failings:

I don't get book clubs.

And this is really sad, because being a part of a book club, or a reading group is IN. It's HIP and NOW and HAPPENING. Oprah does it. Katie does it. Hell, everybody does it. Join a book club, choose a book, read and discuss. So I bowed to the God of all things trendy and tried one on for size. I figured I would be a perfect fit because I can read, I like to read, and bookclub tables are generally stopping point number one every time I enter a store.

So, several of us online type folks got together and made us a book club. The winning book ended up being The Timetraveler's Wife, and in all honesty, I pushed for this particular title, partially because -- surprise, surprise -- I already owned it.

Once the books were purchased and the calendars were synchronized it was Ready, Set....
...
...
...
...
You know when you do something for enjoyment, but when you have to do it, then you don't? Poor Timetraveler's Wife. I tried. I took it everywhere. I made it to page 64, but everytime I found anything else to do, (or nothing to do) I put it down. I even took it on vacation vowing to read it FIRST, but somehow, six other books jumped ahead in line.

So now, post-vacation, not only am I behind, but I'm supposed to be discussing. This is High School all over again. What did I think about this? What did I think about that? Give twelve examples in chapters 1-47. What do I think is coming next?

AIEEEEE.

Here's the problem. I don't analyze when I read. So my answers would be, in no particular order: I don't know, and I don't want to know. I don't want to rehash what I've read, and I don't want to speculate about what comes next. Call me crazy, but I just want to enjoy the ride in its complete and uninterrupted form. And then I'll talk.

But hey, if anybody wants to debate the greater social and literary implications of The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love, I'm ready, willing and able.

Join the Club

I am here today to admit one of my several thousand failings:

I don't get book clubs.

And this is really sad, because being a part of a book club, or a reading group is IN. It's HIP and NOW and HAPPENING. Oprah does it. Katie does it. Hell, everybody does it. Join a book club, choose a book, read and discuss. So I bowed to the God of all things trendy and tried one on for size. I figured I would be a perfect fit because I can read, I like to read, and bookclub tables are generally stopping point number one every time I enter a store.

So, several of us online type folks got together and made us a book club. The winning book ended up being The Timetraveler's Wife, and in all honesty, I pushed for this particular title, partially because -- surprise, surprise -- I already owned it.

Once the books were purchased and the calendars were synchronized it was Ready, Set....
...
...
...
...
You know when you do something for enjoyment, but when you have to do it, then you don't? Poor Timetraveler's Wife. I tried. I took it everywhere. I made it to page 64, but everytime I found anything else to do, (or nothing to do) I put it down. I even took it on vacation vowing to read it FIRST, but somehow, six other books jumped ahead in line.

So now, post-vacation, not only am I behind, but I'm supposed to be discussing. This is High School all over again. What did I think about this? What did I think about that? Give twelve examples in chapters 1-47. What do I think is coming next?

AIEEEEE.

Here's the problem. I don't analyze when I read. So my answers would be, in no particular order: I don't know, and I don't want to know. I don't want to rehash what I've read, and I don't want to speculate about what comes next. Call me crazy, but I just want to enjoy the ride in its complete and uninterrupted form. And then I'll talk.

But hey, if anybody wants to debate the greater social and literary implications of The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love, I'm ready, willing and able.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Blogging for Books -- The Parent Trap

b4b.jpg
For this month's Blogging for Books, write about a pivotal point in your life as a parent, OR write about a pivotal point in your relationship with one of your parents.

Parenthood is full of lots of "awww" moments, but the ones that are most special to me are the "awe" moments, where you can do nothing more than sit and watch and marvel at the human being in front of you. One wintry evening, while I busied myself around the house with the mundane, TinyTuna was busy with the extraordinary. She was dancing a most beautiful ballet -- in total silence. As I watched her, I envied her youth and her grace, and I wished more than anything that I could join in the dance. But I didn't know her steps, and I couldn't hear her music. And in that instant I realized that this was the essence of being a parent. Although I cannot dance the ballet of her life, I do get to have front row seats for the performance of a lifetime.

From the original post of February 4, 2004:

SAILING


"...An ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through the night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year..."

TinyTuna is sailing -- and what a sight it is.

From the day she was born, TinyTuna has always been a bundle of contradictions. She is stubborn and opinionated, and yet she is unbelievably caring and compassionate. She is wise beyond her years, yet wonderfully childlike. She has friends who are septuagenarians, and friends who are Kindergarteners. She enjoys attending the ballet, the symphony and the theatre, and still sings The VeggieTale Hairbrush Song at the top of her lungs.

All children sail in and out of time, journeying from one age to another. But after all these years I am still amazed at the ease at which TinyTuna handles her excursions. Some of her trips are rough, some are comical, but all seem to be taken with an air of confidence, excitement and joy that belies her age. I encourage her adventures, but have always made sure I was sailing nearby to help her when the winds became stormy or the night too dark to see. It was a comfort to me as much as to her knowing she reached the next shore safely.

As she gets older, her voyages are longer, and she looks back a little less often. Although I am still nearby to be sure she is safe, I try to stay behind her, rather than next to her, giving her the space and freedom she needs to sail how she wishes. Some days it is a careful tack towards shore. Other days it is full speed ahead. With TinyTuna, you never know.

This week I was able to catch a glimpse of her in mid-voyage. In one evening she was busy watching a movie about fairies, then writing deep personal thoughts in a journal, and then choreographing a ballet in her bedroom. Once perfected, she performed for us in the living room. As I watched her, I could see her dancing while she sailed -- through the night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year. I saw the wonder of a child change to the concerns of an adolescent change to the creative expression of an adult. Seamlessly. Flawlessly. It was magical.

As a soon-to-be ten year old, her next destination seems to be so far away. It is a land whose shores are filled with clothes, hairstyles, jewelry, music, movies, books and boys. She hears the siren call and is anxious to sail. I am not so sure.

I want her to stay on the island of childhood as long as possible. I want her to gather all the treasures this place has for her before she sets sail for lands unknown. A part of me wants to anchor her boat and make her stay. But if I do, I know she'll pull and pull and eventually break the rope. She'll sail away; not realizing until too late that the anchor has been left behind. I am certain that at times there will be rough seas. She'll need that anchor to ride out a storm.

Instead, I'’m letting out the rope a little at a time. Although she is safely moored, I let out the line a bit more with each voyage. She can test the waters and sail a little farther each day, but it is a comfort to her as much as to me knowing that at the end of her voyage, she has a safe harbor.

...But max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found supper waiting for him and it was still hot."

(Excerpts taken from "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak. HarperCollins, 1988)

Blogging for Books -- The Parent Trap

b4b.jpg
For this month's Blogging for Books, write about a pivotal point in your life as a parent, OR write about a pivotal point in your relationship with one of your parents.

Parenthood is full of lots of "awww" moments, but the ones that are most special to me are the "awe" moments, where you can do nothing more than sit and watch and marvel at the human being in front of you. One wintry evening, while I busied myself around the house with the mundane, TinyTuna was busy with the extraordinary. She was dancing a most beautiful ballet -- in total silence. As I watched her, I envied her youth and her grace, and I wished more than anything that I could join in the dance. But I didn't know her steps, and I couldn't hear her music. And in that instant I realized that this was the essence of being a parent. Although I cannot dance the ballet of her life, I do get to have front row seats for the performance of a lifetime.

From the original post of February 4, 2004:

SAILING


"...An ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through the night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year..."

TinyTuna is sailing -- and what a sight it is.

From the day she was born, TinyTuna has always been a bundle of contradictions. She is stubborn and opinionated, and yet she is unbelievably caring and compassionate. She is wise beyond her years, yet wonderfully childlike. She has friends who are septuagenarians, and friends who are Kindergarteners. She enjoys attending the ballet, the symphony and the theatre, and still sings The VeggieTale Hairbrush Song at the top of her lungs.

All children sail in and out of time, journeying from one age to another. But after all these years I am still amazed at the ease at which TinyTuna handles her excursions. Some of her trips are rough, some are comical, but all seem to be taken with an air of confidence, excitement and joy that belies her age. I encourage her adventures, but have always made sure I was sailing nearby to help her when the winds became stormy or the night too dark to see. It was a comfort to me as much as to her knowing she reached the next shore safely.

As she gets older, her voyages are longer, and she looks back a little less often. Although I am still nearby to be sure she is safe, I try to stay behind her, rather than next to her, giving her the space and freedom she needs to sail how she wishes. Some days it is a careful tack towards shore. Other days it is full speed ahead. With TinyTuna, you never know.

This week I was able to catch a glimpse of her in mid-voyage. In one evening she was busy watching a movie about fairies, then writing deep personal thoughts in a journal, and then choreographing a ballet in her bedroom. Once perfected, she performed for us in the living room. As I watched her, I could see her dancing while she sailed -- through the night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year. I saw the wonder of a child change to the concerns of an adolescent change to the creative expression of an adult. Seamlessly. Flawlessly. It was magical.

As a soon-to-be ten year old, her next destination seems to be so far away. It is a land whose shores are filled with clothes, hairstyles, jewelry, music, movies, books and boys. She hears the siren call and is anxious to sail. I am not so sure.

I want her to stay on the island of childhood as long as possible. I want her to gather all the treasures this place has for her before she sets sail for lands unknown. A part of me wants to anchor her boat and make her stay. But if I do, I know she'll pull and pull and eventually break the rope. She'll sail away; not realizing until too late that the anchor has been left behind. I am certain that at times there will be rough seas. She'll need that anchor to ride out a storm.

Instead, I'’m letting out the rope a little at a time. Although she is safely moored, I let out the line a bit more with each voyage. She can test the waters and sail a little farther each day, but it is a comfort to her as much as to me knowing that at the end of her voyage, she has a safe harbor.

...But max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found supper waiting for him and it was still hot."

(Excerpts taken from "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak. HarperCollins, 1988)

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think

  1. Do-it-yourself:: Home improvement
  2. Pickpocket:: Oliver
  3. Ballet:: Dance
  4. Resumé:: Job
  5. Phenom:: Amazing
  6. Love/Hate:: Relationship
  7. Unusual:: Rare
  8. Intense:: Dramatic
  9. Interruption:: Butt-in
  10. Not enough:: Still hungry


You'd think that I would have had more than enough of Do-It-Yourself Home Improvement. So where was I today, when TinyTuna was off playing with a friend? You guessed it: Home Depot. Looking at new paint chips.

But I was JUST LOOKING.

I'm certain I'll spend the rest of the evening humming You've Got to Pick a Pocket or Two. As for Unusual--Rare and Intense--Dramatic, I could have just said TinyTuna. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that those words are hallmarks of her unusually rare and intensely dramatic personality.

Mutter along HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think

  1. Do-it-yourself:: Home improvement
  2. Pickpocket:: Oliver
  3. Ballet:: Dance
  4. Resumé:: Job
  5. Phenom:: Amazing
  6. Love/Hate:: Relationship
  7. Unusual:: Rare
  8. Intense:: Dramatic
  9. Interruption:: Butt-in
  10. Not enough:: Still hungry


You'd think that I would have had more than enough of Do-It-Yourself Home Improvement. So where was I today, when TinyTuna was off playing with a friend? You guessed it: Home Depot. Looking at new paint chips.

But I was JUST LOOKING.

I'm certain I'll spend the rest of the evening humming You've Got to Pick a Pocket or Two. As for Unusual--Rare and Intense--Dramatic, I could have just said TinyTuna. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that those words are hallmarks of her unusually rare and intensely dramatic personality.

Mutter along HERE.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

In the year of our network 2000, a summer TV show hit the airwaves. A group of people would live together in a house. They couldn't leave the house. They had TV and no books, although somehow a Bible counted, so hey, at least there is some religious instruction, right? There wasn't much to do -- a cursed deck of cards, a very small pool (440 laps to swim a mile!) and a big plastic tub and wringer to do the laundry -- so they had to spend the entire time talking, arguing, lecturing, or plotting and planning.

Each week, someone would get kicked out of the house. Last one standing won some cash and 15 minutes of respect from the few people who cared. Oh, and there were cameras on them. Everywhere. All the time. And we could watch them like little hamsters in a cage.

Big Brother 1 (2000) -- "The Forgotten Year"
The CBS webpage doesn't even acknowledge the first season of Big Brother. How horrible must that show have been?

Big Brother 2 (2001) -- "We still don't use mottos yet"
It was the summer of Krista and Mike "Boogie", who proposed to her on live TV during the wrapup show while wearing a baby blue basketball uniform (no, it didn't last). It was the summer of Monica ("It's ON!") and weepy Bunky, the lovable bald guy. It was the summer of Shannon, who in a fit of rage, cleaned the toilet with Hardy's toothbrush. In the end, it was the summer of one of the best players ever, the winner, Dr. Will Kirby.


Occupation: Physician
Motto: Be desireless, be excellent, be gone
Hero: The Six Million Dollar Man, Steve Austin
Favorite Food: Sashimi
Least Favorite Food: Pasta
Favorite TV Show: Boy Meets World
Least Favorite Show: Any court shows
Favorite Movie: Fight Club
Least Favorite Movie: Air Bud II
Favorite Band/Singer: Weezer
Least Favorite Band/Singer: REM
Favorite Magazine: GQ, New England Journal of Medicine
Favorite Sport: Watersports
Favorite Color: Black
Least Favorite Color: Mauve


Big Brother 3 (2002) "Expect the Unexpected"
It was the summer of sweet, wacky Southern Amy and hysterical Marcellas. It was the summer of the bathroom handwashing scandal (or actually lackof handwashing scandal) with Gerry. It was the summer of crude Josh, pontificating Roddy, sweet Jason and devious devil-horned Danielle. In the end, it was the summer of the self-proclaimed "Princess of Darkness", Crazy Bartender Lisa.


Three adjectives that best describe me: Fun loving, complex, full of emotion
Favorite film:As Good As It Gets
Favorite TV show: Friends, The Osbournes
Favorite actor:Jack Nicholson
Favorite actress:Meg Ryan
Favorite band:Remy Zero, The Calling
Favorite hobbies:Hiking, dancing, going to lunch with friends, reading, photography (my favorite)
Personal hero:Shirley Temple Black

Big Brother 4 (2003) "The X Factor"
It was the summer of the cute motto that had double meaning. "X Factor" meant Ex's -- boyfriends and girlfriends -- and oh, what a mess that was. It was the summer of Scott who threw a chair and got kicked out of the house. It was the summer Amanda, who helped break in the Head of Household with Dave, who spent the next several hours throwing up. It was the summer of Alison, her nose, her voice and her elephant. It was the summer of Erika and Jack, the FBI guy. It was the summer of Buzzard Crotch and Robert, who, unbelievably, was grosser than a buzzard crotch. It was the summer of Doritos and eating anything that wasn't nailed down. In the end, it was the summer of "my strategy is to stay in the kitchen and cook" Jun.


Favorite Film:Grease
Favorite TV show: Sex & the City
Favorite Actor: Sean Connery
Favorite
Actress: Annette Bening
Favorite Band: U2
Favorite Hobbies: Shopping, decorating, cooking
Favorite Scents: Men, fresh laundry, babies, ripe fruit
Favorite Flowers: Tulips, roses, orchids, sunflowers
Favorite Board Games: Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly
Favorite Video Games: Tetris, Bomber Man (not a big fan of video games)
Favorite Sports to Play: Volleyball
Favorite Sports Teams: Um, go US Olympics Team? Sorry, I'm not even going to pretend.
Favorite Outdoor Activities: Laying out in Central Park, hitting street fairs
Favorite Music: Hip-Hop, R&B, reggae
Favorite Magazines: Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Playboy
Favorite Books/Authors: Amy Tan, Danielle Steele, Dean Koontz
Favorite Cereals: Oatmeal Raisin Crisp, Cap'n Crunch
Favorite Fruits: Mango, pineapple, grapes, blueberries
Favorite Snack Foods: Chex mix, Pirate's Booty, cheese
Favorite Cookies: English toffee cookies, Oreos, Mrs. Fields
Candy Bars Nestle Crunch, Skor, Twix
Favorite Alcoholic Drinks: Midori sour, strawberry daiquiri, margarita with salt
Favorite Non-Alcoholic: Snapple-apple, Coke, peach iced tea

Big Brother 5 (2004) "Project DNA"
Short for Do Not Assume, Big Brother 5 was the summer of Twins. Adria and Natalie switched off in the house, and because they successfully pulled it off for five weeks, both were allowed in, whereupon they instantly self-destructed. It was the summer of Jase and Scott -- the manadana boys -- and Holly, who was indeed as stupid as she looked. It was the summer of the Knights of the Round Table, which instantly got changed to "The 4 Horseman." It was the summer of Cowboy and his eternal dreams of sitcom glory. It was the summer of MF Marvin and his feet that were so stinky, they tore down the house at seasons end. It was the summer of Nakomis, Karen, Diane and the infamous pinky swear. It was the summer where the Cheeze-it became a critical device of strategic thinking. In the end, it was the summer of Drew -- potentially the most boring hamster alive.


Favorite Films: Braveheart, The Shawshank Redemption, Great Expectations
Favorite TV shows: Curb Your Enthusiasm, Seinfeld, Friday Night Stand-Up on Comedy Central
Favorite Actors: Johnny Depp, Tom Hanks, Mel Gibson
Favorite Actresses: Julia Roberts, Gwyneth Paltrow, Renee Zellweger
Favorite Bands: Maroon 5, U2, Coldplay, Matchbox 20, Train
Favorite Hobbies: Boating, clubbing, traveling
Favorite Sports to Play: Golf, basketball, volleyball
Favorite Sports Teams: Ohio State Buckeyes & Miami of Ohio Football
Favorite Outdoor Activities: Kayaking, fishing, rollerblading
Favorite Music: Techno, hip-hop, country
Favorite Cereals: Lucky Charms, Trix, Apple Jacks
Favorite Snack Foods: Fig Newtons
Favorite Cookies: Peanut Butter
Favorite Candy Bars: Rolos
Favorite Alcoholic Drinks: Corona and rum & Coke
Favorite Non-Alcoholic: Lemonade

Big Brother 6 (2005) "The Summer of Secrets";
And here we are, at the edge of a new season. 14 brand new hamsters have entered the house are are trying to win the big prize. The "secret" this summer is so weak (secret pairings, and each pair believes they are the only two) that already some of them have started to figure it out. Are new and improved secrets are on the way? Only time will tell. Who will win...



Big Brother 6?
(Cue the fishtank. Cue the music.)

Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

In the year of our network 2000, a summer TV show hit the airwaves. A group of people would live together in a house. They couldn't leave the house. They had TV and no books, although somehow a Bible counted, so hey, at least there is some religious instruction, right? There wasn't much to do -- a cursed deck of cards, a very small pool (440 laps to swim a mile!) and a big plastic tub and wringer to do the laundry -- so they had to spend the entire time talking, arguing, lecturing, or plotting and planning.

Each week, someone would get kicked out of the house. Last one standing won some cash and 15 minutes of respect from the few people who cared. Oh, and there were cameras on them. Everywhere. All the time. And we could watch them like little hamsters in a cage.

Big Brother 1 (2000) -- "The Forgotten Year"
The CBS webpage doesn't even acknowledge the first season of Big Brother. How horrible must that show have been?

Big Brother 2 (2001) -- "We still don't use mottos yet"
It was the summer of Krista and Mike "Boogie", who proposed to her on live TV during the wrapup show while wearing a baby blue basketball uniform (no, it didn't last). It was the summer of Monica ("It's ON!") and weepy Bunky, the lovable bald guy. It was the summer of Shannon, who in a fit of rage, cleaned the toilet with Hardy's toothbrush. In the end, it was the summer of one of the best players ever, the winner, Dr. Will Kirby.


Occupation: Physician
Motto: Be desireless, be excellent, be gone
Hero: The Six Million Dollar Man, Steve Austin
Favorite Food: Sashimi
Least Favorite Food: Pasta
Favorite TV Show: Boy Meets World
Least Favorite Show: Any court shows
Favorite Movie: Fight Club
Least Favorite Movie: Air Bud II
Favorite Band/Singer: Weezer
Least Favorite Band/Singer: REM
Favorite Magazine: GQ, New England Journal of Medicine
Favorite Sport: Watersports
Favorite Color: Black
Least Favorite Color: Mauve


Big Brother 3 (2002) "Expect the Unexpected"
It was the summer of sweet, wacky Southern Amy and hysterical Marcellas. It was the summer of the bathroom handwashing scandal (or actually lackof handwashing scandal) with Gerry. It was the summer of crude Josh, pontificating Roddy, sweet Jason and devious devil-horned Danielle. In the end, it was the summer of the self-proclaimed "Princess of Darkness", Crazy Bartender Lisa.


Three adjectives that best describe me: Fun loving, complex, full of emotion
Favorite film:As Good As It Gets
Favorite TV show: Friends, The Osbournes
Favorite actor:Jack Nicholson
Favorite actress:Meg Ryan
Favorite band:Remy Zero, The Calling
Favorite hobbies:Hiking, dancing, going to lunch with friends, reading, photography (my favorite)
Personal hero:Shirley Temple Black

Big Brother 4 (2003) "The X Factor"
It was the summer of the cute motto that had double meaning. "X Factor" meant Ex's -- boyfriends and girlfriends -- and oh, what a mess that was. It was the summer of Scott who threw a chair and got kicked out of the house. It was the summer Amanda, who helped break in the Head of Household with Dave, who spent the next several hours throwing up. It was the summer of Alison, her nose, her voice and her elephant. It was the summer of Erika and Jack, the FBI guy. It was the summer of Buzzard Crotch and Robert, who, unbelievably, was grosser than a buzzard crotch. It was the summer of Doritos and eating anything that wasn't nailed down. In the end, it was the summer of "my strategy is to stay in the kitchen and cook" Jun.


Favorite Film:Grease
Favorite TV show: Sex & the City
Favorite Actor: Sean Connery
Favorite
Actress: Annette Bening
Favorite Band: U2
Favorite Hobbies: Shopping, decorating, cooking
Favorite Scents: Men, fresh laundry, babies, ripe fruit
Favorite Flowers: Tulips, roses, orchids, sunflowers
Favorite Board Games: Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly
Favorite Video Games: Tetris, Bomber Man (not a big fan of video games)
Favorite Sports to Play: Volleyball
Favorite Sports Teams: Um, go US Olympics Team? Sorry, I'm not even going to pretend.
Favorite Outdoor Activities: Laying out in Central Park, hitting street fairs
Favorite Music: Hip-Hop, R&B, reggae
Favorite Magazines: Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Playboy
Favorite Books/Authors: Amy Tan, Danielle Steele, Dean Koontz
Favorite Cereals: Oatmeal Raisin Crisp, Cap'n Crunch
Favorite Fruits: Mango, pineapple, grapes, blueberries
Favorite Snack Foods: Chex mix, Pirate's Booty, cheese
Favorite Cookies: English toffee cookies, Oreos, Mrs. Fields
Candy Bars Nestle Crunch, Skor, Twix
Favorite Alcoholic Drinks: Midori sour, strawberry daiquiri, margarita with salt
Favorite Non-Alcoholic: Snapple-apple, Coke, peach iced tea

Big Brother 5 (2004) "Project DNA"
Short for Do Not Assume, Big Brother 5 was the summer of Twins. Adria and Natalie switched off in the house, and because they successfully pulled it off for five weeks, both were allowed in, whereupon they instantly self-destructed. It was the summer of Jase and Scott -- the manadana boys -- and Holly, who was indeed as stupid as she looked. It was the summer of the Knights of the Round Table, which instantly got changed to "The 4 Horseman." It was the summer of Cowboy and his eternal dreams of sitcom glory. It was the summer of MF Marvin and his feet that were so stinky, they tore down the house at seasons end. It was the summer of Nakomis, Karen, Diane and the infamous pinky swear. It was the summer where the Cheeze-it became a critical device of strategic thinking. In the end, it was the summer of Drew -- potentially the most boring hamster alive.


Favorite Films: Braveheart, The Shawshank Redemption, Great Expectations
Favorite TV shows: Curb Your Enthusiasm, Seinfeld, Friday Night Stand-Up on Comedy Central
Favorite Actors: Johnny Depp, Tom Hanks, Mel Gibson
Favorite Actresses: Julia Roberts, Gwyneth Paltrow, Renee Zellweger
Favorite Bands: Maroon 5, U2, Coldplay, Matchbox 20, Train
Favorite Hobbies: Boating, clubbing, traveling
Favorite Sports to Play: Golf, basketball, volleyball
Favorite Sports Teams: Ohio State Buckeyes & Miami of Ohio Football
Favorite Outdoor Activities: Kayaking, fishing, rollerblading
Favorite Music: Techno, hip-hop, country
Favorite Cereals: Lucky Charms, Trix, Apple Jacks
Favorite Snack Foods: Fig Newtons
Favorite Cookies: Peanut Butter
Favorite Candy Bars: Rolos
Favorite Alcoholic Drinks: Corona and rum & Coke
Favorite Non-Alcoholic: Lemonade

Big Brother 6 (2005) "The Summer of Secrets";
And here we are, at the edge of a new season. 14 brand new hamsters have entered the house are are trying to win the big prize. The "secret" this summer is so weak (secret pairings, and each pair believes they are the only two) that already some of them have started to figure it out. Are new and improved secrets are on the way? Only time will tell. Who will win...



Big Brother 6?
(Cue the fishtank. Cue the music.)

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Pretty in Pink

I'm pleased to report that TinyTuna's bedroom makeover is completed. Sort of. There are still pictures to be hung, and then the teensy weensy matter of all of her MEMORIES that are piled in plastic bins all over my living room. Oh, and the six-foot ladder is still in my bathroom. That makes a lovely addition to my house decor best described as Post-Modern disaster.

She came home from camp yesterday, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Is my room done??" I looked at her with a sleep deprived smile and said, "what do you think?" In short, she loved it. All of it. It looks young and fresh, but not so trendy that six months from now she'd be clamoring for a redo. One of her favorite pieces in the room? Her bedside table lamp which is controlled by touch. Do we play with it all the time? Oh yes, we do.

The process has been an interesting one, to be sure. This was the first room in the house that we've redone, which made it one gigantic learning process. Because painting is far, far more complicated that say, DEATH, I'm here to impart the knowledge gathered along the way as we passed through the many stages of home renovation.

1. Excitement
Just the very idea of redoing a room makes one giddy. Oh, the grand and glorious plans! Oh, the immeasurable number of paint swatches! Oh the little toys and tools and knick-knacks to make it fun fun fun FUN FUN FUN!!!!!

2. Horror
Oh no. We're in deep trouble.

3. Determination
It doesn't matter how hard this project is going to be. We're going to do it, and we're going to do it RIGHT! Nobody did it RIGHT before, but boy-howdy, this time we are going to do it SO RIGHT. Grab a putty knife and go, go, GO!

4. Chipping
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*
*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*chip*

5. Despair
We're screwed. We're sunk. What made us ever think we could do this? The room looks ten times worse than before. We aren't painters...We're Tunas. We should have called a professional. What are we going to do? What are we going to do?

6. Totally Unfounded Optimism
Unless we want the child to pitch a tent in the back yard from now until next April, we have no choice. We have to keep going. But it looks better, right? Right? If we keep saying it looks better, maybe we'll start to believe it, right? Right?

7. Spackling
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*
*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*spackle*

8. Sanding
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*
*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*sand*

9. Guarded Optimism
Hey, that turned out pretty good. The everything is flat. No more holes. No more chips. We did a good job. I think this just might (MIGHT) turn out. I hope. Oh boy do I hope.

10. Priming
Priming is like painting that doesn't count. Priming in a tiny closet is a one-way ticket to Woozyville. Priming the ceiling gives you albino freckles. Although primer left under your finger nails looks like an expensive French manicure, primer slopped all over the elbow gives you away. Priming sucks.

11. Painting
Finally. It's like wandering the desert for 40 years and finally discovering the land of milk and honey-colored semi-gloss. Boy, I hope this color doesn't look like Pepto pink. Please let it be pretty....Please let it be pretty...Please let it be pretty.

12. New Math
Two coats of white primer plus one coat of white ceiling paint equals two coats of white ceiling paint. The ceiling is done!

13. Drugs are Bad
If I have to go into that tiny space again, my next trip will be to the Betty Ford Clinic. The closet is done!

14. Awe
AWWWWWWWWWWWW! It looks SOOOOO good!

15. Putting Humpty Together Again
There aren't asses big enough to absorb the pain and hassle of rehanging doors and reinstalling vertical blinds. Even with two cordless screwdrivers and a now beautiful surrounding, Dances with Power Tools says UGH.

16. Totally Unfounded Optimism
That wasn't so bad.

17. Insanity
We kicked major home improvement butt. Let's do another room.