Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Hey, That Would Be A Good Title For a Blog!

Seriously. I either need a T-Shirt or an intervention, because I seem to collect blogs like lost kitties. Joining its Super-Friends Tuna News, Voodoo Monkee, Incidental Bologna, Desperate Hamsters, The Big Wheel and Waffles of Compromise, may it please you to meet:



Because you know, I like that name.

Hey, That Would Be A Good Title For a Blog!

Seriously. I either need a T-Shirt or an intervention, because I seem to collect blogs like lost kitties. Joining its Super-Friends Tuna News, Voodoo Monkee, Incidental Bologna, Desperate Hamsters, The Big Wheel and Waffles of Compromise, may it please you to meet:



Because you know, I like that name.

Monday, July 23, 2007

The Queen of Clean

I know you must think I'm spending my summer lounging outside, eating grapes and drinking Mike's like it was, well....Mike's.

Nope. Nope. And Nope.
Well that last one might be a little Yep.

I'm back to cleaning with a vengeance. I've assumed a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, insert-your-own-cliche attitude, and for once I feel like I'm making progress. It might not be big progress. In fact it's much closer to Itsy-Bitsy progress, but that's OK. It was time to shut up and start climbing the water spout.

And looking over what I've written so far, it's no wonder I haven't written. Aside from waxing poetically about Hard Lemonade, this is pretty much a disjointed mess. Much like my basement. AHA! It's a theme. And...And...there are spiders in my basement (there are spiders in all basements, right?) so that fits in too.

Phew.

So yeah. Cleaning my basement. I started by redoing my previously half-done project of organizing my biggest headache obsession hobby, cross-stitch. After several weeks (that's how bad it was, people) I'm about done. I have found hidden stashes of supplies and materials scattered all through my basement, not to mention enough unfinished projects for a small army. During vacation I only worked on unfinished projects, and managed to finish about five. Since I've been home, I've been able to knock off several more. My unfinished project bin has been downgraded from critically overflowing to moderately crammed, and this is a good thing.

(This is what I said every time I found another bag of surprises)

Next up in the basement hit parade was dealing with the sheep. I have dirty sheep, Clean sheep, ball-o-sheep, and sheep on a string (not to be confused with soap on a rope). I also have alpaca, llama, camel, bison (somewhere), corn, silk, and let's not forget my overflowing bag 'o Fabio.

Fiber, Fiber everywhere. It's beautiful and it's cute....

(Woah. What the hell is THAT?)


But it quickly becomes overwhelming.

Too much of a good thing
(Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Sheep, anyone?)
maybe isn't so good.

I've now moved on to corners and messes I don't want to face, but I'm determined to do a little bit every single day. It's hard to clean and organize, but now that I'm on a roll it's a little bit empowering too. And who knows, maybe by the end of summer this Itsy-Bitsy spider might have a basement that functions as something more than a dumping ground. I just have to watch out for rain.



The Queen of Clean

I know you must think I'm spending my summer lounging outside, eating grapes and drinking Mike's like it was, well....Mike's.

Nope. Nope. And Nope.
Well that last one might be a little Yep.

I'm back to cleaning with a vengeance. I've assumed a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, insert-your-own-cliche attitude, and for once I feel like I'm making progress. It might not be big progress. In fact it's much closer to Itsy-Bitsy progress, but that's OK. It was time to shut up and start climbing the water spout.

And looking over what I've written so far, it's no wonder I haven't written. Aside from waxing poetically about Hard Lemonade, this is pretty much a disjointed mess. Much like my basement. AHA! It's a theme. And...And...there are spiders in my basement (there are spiders in all basements, right?) so that fits in too.

Phew.

So yeah. Cleaning my basement. I started by redoing my previously half-done project of organizing my biggest headache obsession hobby, cross-stitch. After several weeks (that's how bad it was, people) I'm about done. I have found hidden stashes of supplies and materials scattered all through my basement, not to mention enough unfinished projects for a small army. During vacation I only worked on unfinished projects, and managed to finish about five. Since I've been home, I've been able to knock off several more. My unfinished project bin has been downgraded from critically overflowing to moderately crammed, and this is a good thing.

(This is what I said every time I found another bag of surprises)

Next up in the basement hit parade was dealing with the sheep. I have dirty sheep, Clean sheep, ball-o-sheep, and sheep on a string (not to be confused with soap on a rope). I also have alpaca, llama, camel, bison (somewhere), corn, silk, and let's not forget my overflowing bag 'o Fabio.

Fiber, Fiber everywhere. It's beautiful and it's cute....

(Woah. What the hell is THAT?)


But it quickly becomes overwhelming.

Too much of a good thing
(Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Sheep, anyone?)
maybe isn't so good.

I've now moved on to corners and messes I don't want to face, but I'm determined to do a little bit every single day. It's hard to clean and organize, but now that I'm on a roll it's a little bit empowering too. And who knows, maybe by the end of summer this Itsy-Bitsy spider might have a basement that functions as something more than a dumping ground. I just have to watch out for rain.



Sunday, July 22, 2007

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think :

1. Deputy :: Dawg

2. Name :: Date

3. Arrested :: Development

4. Trade :: Show

5. Old :: New

6. Fingerprint :: Messy

7. Dwarf :: Seven of 'em

8. Newspaper :: Print

9. Gabriel :: Come Blow Your Horn

10. Certificate :: Of Honor



I dunno. Weird list, I guess. When I saw "Deputy" my brain immediately went into a Daffy Duck / Porky Pig riff that I figured would be too hard to explain. But here it is in all of its glory



What. Did. We. Ever. Do. Without. YouTube?
I love the Internets.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think :

1. Deputy :: Dawg

2. Name :: Date

3. Arrested :: Development

4. Trade :: Show

5. Old :: New

6. Fingerprint :: Messy

7. Dwarf :: Seven of 'em

8. Newspaper :: Print

9. Gabriel :: Come Blow Your Horn

10. Certificate :: Of Honor



I dunno. Weird list, I guess. When I saw "Deputy" my brain immediately went into a Daffy Duck / Porky Pig riff that I figured would be too hard to explain. But here it is in all of its glory



What. Did. We. Ever. Do. Without. YouTube?
I love the Internets.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Comic Relief

This about says it all on a Monday.


toothpaste for dinner
toothpastefordinner.com

Comic Relief

This about says it all on a Monday.


toothpaste for dinner
toothpastefordinner.com

Pirates of the Caribbean : At Wit's End

Things I Know and/or Understand:
  1. On Saturday night I saw Pirates of the Caribbean : At World's End
  2. It had Pirate guys and British guys and weirdo Fish guys
  3. The movie was 2 hours and 50 minutes

Things I Do Not Know and/nor Understand:
  1. This movie didn't make a damn bit of sense




So Saturday night, GramTuna and I lose our collective minds and tell TeenTuna that yes, we will all go and see Pirates at 8:45 pm, even though this particular piece of cinematic wonderment wouldn't end until midnight. We got there early, which is usual for us, because pickiness abounds in regards to where we sit (top row, center). We grabbed our seats, grabbed our popcorn and pop and watched the theater get fuller and fuller and fuller. This amazed me because the movie has been out since May, and now that theaters saturate the market for the first several weeks of a film's opening, I figured it was going to be us and the crickets. Nope. we were crammed in there, stem to stern, with no wiggle room at all.

Now, TeenTuna is up to date on the whole Jack Sparrow Pirate saga. She watched the first movie eleventy-billion times over vacation, and watched the second one Saturday afternoon. I, on the other hand, have managed to half-watch/ignore and/or sleep through the first one eleventy-billion times and I saw the second one once. At work. While I was working. So my level of dedicated concentration to this particular saga? Not so much.

But after watching the second movie -- especially the last 45 seconds or so, which was the obviously cliff-hanger -- TeenTuna practically drooled and said, "Now I HAVE to see the NEXT ONE!"

Oh boy.

So we went and watched. Or tried to watch. Without giving away any sort of plot, lets just say two things happen in this movie. First of all, there is talking. A LOT of talking. And I have to ask, why? It's not for the greater good of character development, because you're either a Pirate Guy, a British Guy or a Fish Guy, and that's it. But they talked and talked and talked (especially the British Guys, which I have to think is so they can justify their uniform), and every single time they spiraled down into another 20 exposition on something or other, I grabbed the opportunity to take a little snooze. Which I did. A lot.

Fish Guy

The other thing that happens in this movie is fighting. Oh, there is lots and lots and lots and lots of fighting. If they weren't talking, they were fighting, and sometimes they were fighting and talking at the same time. It occurred to me that all these guys -- Pirate, British and Fish -- were collectively the worst shots in the entire world, because no matter how many times they blew up boats or sent cannons flying across the screen or thrust swords through their enemy's innards, somehow they never seemed to get the job done, because 20 minutes later (after the talking) they'd all be reassembled to go at it one more time. And with a film that drags on for nearly 3 hours, that's one hell of a lot of fighting and missing. And talking. And fighting and missing and talking some more. With a little more fighting and missing thrown in for good measure.

When it was FINALLY OVER, TeenTuna proclaimed it was great. I took one look at GramTuna with that sort of what the hell exactly was THAT kind of look, and we both burst in hysterics. Every time we tried to talk about the movie, we just started laughing harder, and TeenTuna got disgusted with the both of us and told us to stop embarrassing her.

Reviews I've read said the movie was about 20 minutes too long. I'd have to agree with that, about four times over. If the movie was cut in half, the only thing you would have missed was some quality napping time. And I tried SO HARD not to look at a watch. I kept urging myself to wait a little longer. It's the same deal as attempting to postpone the inevitable trip to the bathroom when you're out drinking. Once you break down and do it, no matter how hard you try, it's every 15 minutes until you leave.

Pirate Guys

So while I was awake, I watched and fidgeted and checked the time. Aside from talking and fighting, I can't spoil the story in the slightest, because none of it made a damn bit of sense. Just know there was Pirate Guys, British Guys and Fish Guys. They talked some, they fought a lot and they blew up stuff. At the end, some Pirate Guy mentioned maps to Fountain of Youth and as the Piratey music started up and the credits started to roll, TeenTuna said, "Now they HAVE to make ANOTHER ONE!"

Swell.

Pirates of the Caribbean : At Wit's End

Things I Know and/or Understand:
  1. On Saturday night I saw Pirates of the Caribbean : At World's End
  2. It had Pirate guys and British guys and weirdo Fish guys
  3. The movie was 2 hours and 50 minutes

Things I Do Not Know and/nor Understand:
  1. This movie didn't make a damn bit of sense




So Saturday night, GramTuna and I lose our collective minds and tell TeenTuna that yes, we will all go and see Pirates at 8:45 pm, even though this particular piece of cinematic wonderment wouldn't end until midnight. We got there early, which is usual for us, because pickiness abounds in regards to where we sit (top row, center). We grabbed our seats, grabbed our popcorn and pop and watched the theater get fuller and fuller and fuller. This amazed me because the movie has been out since May, and now that theaters saturate the market for the first several weeks of a film's opening, I figured it was going to be us and the crickets. Nope. we were crammed in there, stem to stern, with no wiggle room at all.

Now, TeenTuna is up to date on the whole Jack Sparrow Pirate saga. She watched the first movie eleventy-billion times over vacation, and watched the second one Saturday afternoon. I, on the other hand, have managed to half-watch/ignore and/or sleep through the first one eleventy-billion times and I saw the second one once. At work. While I was working. So my level of dedicated concentration to this particular saga? Not so much.

But after watching the second movie -- especially the last 45 seconds or so, which was the obviously cliff-hanger -- TeenTuna practically drooled and said, "Now I HAVE to see the NEXT ONE!"

Oh boy.

So we went and watched. Or tried to watch. Without giving away any sort of plot, lets just say two things happen in this movie. First of all, there is talking. A LOT of talking. And I have to ask, why? It's not for the greater good of character development, because you're either a Pirate Guy, a British Guy or a Fish Guy, and that's it. But they talked and talked and talked (especially the British Guys, which I have to think is so they can justify their uniform), and every single time they spiraled down into another 20 exposition on something or other, I grabbed the opportunity to take a little snooze. Which I did. A lot.

Fish Guy

The other thing that happens in this movie is fighting. Oh, there is lots and lots and lots and lots of fighting. If they weren't talking, they were fighting, and sometimes they were fighting and talking at the same time. It occurred to me that all these guys -- Pirate, British and Fish -- were collectively the worst shots in the entire world, because no matter how many times they blew up boats or sent cannons flying across the screen or thrust swords through their enemy's innards, somehow they never seemed to get the job done, because 20 minutes later (after the talking) they'd all be reassembled to go at it one more time. And with a film that drags on for nearly 3 hours, that's one hell of a lot of fighting and missing. And talking. And fighting and missing and talking some more. With a little more fighting and missing thrown in for good measure.

When it was FINALLY OVER, TeenTuna proclaimed it was great. I took one look at GramTuna with that sort of what the hell exactly was THAT kind of look, and we both burst in hysterics. Every time we tried to talk about the movie, we just started laughing harder, and TeenTuna got disgusted with the both of us and told us to stop embarrassing her.

Reviews I've read said the movie was about 20 minutes too long. I'd have to agree with that, about four times over. If the movie was cut in half, the only thing you would have missed was some quality napping time. And I tried SO HARD not to look at a watch. I kept urging myself to wait a little longer. It's the same deal as attempting to postpone the inevitable trip to the bathroom when you're out drinking. Once you break down and do it, no matter how hard you try, it's every 15 minutes until you leave.

Pirate Guys

So while I was awake, I watched and fidgeted and checked the time. Aside from talking and fighting, I can't spoil the story in the slightest, because none of it made a damn bit of sense. Just know there was Pirate Guys, British Guys and Fish Guys. They talked some, they fought a lot and they blew up stuff. At the end, some Pirate Guy mentioned maps to Fountain of Youth and as the Piratey music started up and the credits started to roll, TeenTuna said, "Now they HAVE to make ANOTHER ONE!"

Swell.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Freud

For the past week or so, TeenTuna has been on a Jekyll and Hyde kick. It started with her finally deciding to watch the DVD of the musical starring none other than David Hasslehoff. This post, sadly (or not), is not about The Hoff. For some he's the Baywatch guy, for others he's the Knight Rider guy, and for the rest he's Hey! It's That Guy! from America's Got Talent or Our Drunk Father doesn't understand the 5-second rule. For me, he'll always be Snapper Foster from The Young and the Restless, which means nothing more than I'm old.

So yeah, The Hoff plays Jekyll/Hyde. He's not awesome, and he doesn't stink. TeenTuna reports he plays a better bad guy than good guy, and I'd have to agree.



Anyway.

After watching the musical on continual repeat for about a week, TeenTuna is now reading the classic story by Robert Louis Stevenson. I like to think this is part of my master plan to trick my child into doing something -- anything -- productive over the summer. You may laugh, but a single episode of South Park got her hooked on Les Miserables and now she wants to read Victor Hugo. I'd explain how it all relates, but if you don't watch South Park, it will take too long to explain, and if you do, you may (or may not) remember the Thanksgiving Episode when the kids were staging Helen Keller : The Musical with GOBBLES! THE AMAZING TRICK PERFORMING TURKEY. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, smile and move on. Just remember, because of TIMMY! Cartman and Gobbles, my kid WANTS to read Victor Hugo. So there.



Anyway.

The first time TeenTuna sat through the entire story of Jekyll and Hyde, she was making lots of comments about this that and the other thing. (Spoiler alert!) When Jekyll turns into Hyde and starts doing all those nasty Hyde-type things, TeenTuna looked up at me incredulously and said loudly, "WOAH! Anger Management Issues, Anyone?"

I can't wait to hear her spin on the whole French Revolution thing.

Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Freud

For the past week or so, TeenTuna has been on a Jekyll and Hyde kick. It started with her finally deciding to watch the DVD of the musical starring none other than David Hasslehoff. This post, sadly (or not), is not about The Hoff. For some he's the Baywatch guy, for others he's the Knight Rider guy, and for the rest he's Hey! It's That Guy! from America's Got Talent or Our Drunk Father doesn't understand the 5-second rule. For me, he'll always be Snapper Foster from The Young and the Restless, which means nothing more than I'm old.

So yeah, The Hoff plays Jekyll/Hyde. He's not awesome, and he doesn't stink. TeenTuna reports he plays a better bad guy than good guy, and I'd have to agree.



Anyway.

After watching the musical on continual repeat for about a week, TeenTuna is now reading the classic story by Robert Louis Stevenson. I like to think this is part of my master plan to trick my child into doing something -- anything -- productive over the summer. You may laugh, but a single episode of South Park got her hooked on Les Miserables and now she wants to read Victor Hugo. I'd explain how it all relates, but if you don't watch South Park, it will take too long to explain, and if you do, you may (or may not) remember the Thanksgiving Episode when the kids were staging Helen Keller : The Musical with GOBBLES! THE AMAZING TRICK PERFORMING TURKEY. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, smile and move on. Just remember, because of TIMMY! Cartman and Gobbles, my kid WANTS to read Victor Hugo. So there.



Anyway.

The first time TeenTuna sat through the entire story of Jekyll and Hyde, she was making lots of comments about this that and the other thing. (Spoiler alert!) When Jekyll turns into Hyde and starts doing all those nasty Hyde-type things, TeenTuna looked up at me incredulously and said loudly, "WOAH! Anger Management Issues, Anyone?"

I can't wait to hear her spin on the whole French Revolution thing.

Monday, July 09, 2007

An Introduction

Parents look forward with equal portions of excitement and dread to various milestones in our children's lives. First step, first word, first swear word (where did they learn that??), first day of school, first call from the principal, first school picture, first play, first time you said "Because I said so!" out of sheer exasperation, first date, first gray hair (mine), etc. etc. etc.

It seems TeenTuna has hit another milestone of sorts, although it's nothing that was ever covered on Little House on the Prairie, The Brady Bunch, or The Cosby Show, so it seems I will be flying solo on this one.

On Friday TeenTuna and I decided she was old enough and responsible enough (with parental supervision and editorial privileges) to have her very own space. We set it up together, she picked the color scheme and we hashed over lots of titles until we came up with something we thought fit just right. She was SO EXCITED when she was done, and proceeded to email all of her squirrelly friends. So, to all my readers, who have enjoyed so many TinyTuna stories of the past (those aren't going to stop, believe me) I'd like to breathe deeply and introduce:

GRACE NOTES


Be nice to her, or else.

An Introduction

Parents look forward with equal portions of excitement and dread to various milestones in our children's lives. First step, first word, first swear word (where did they learn that??), first day of school, first call from the principal, first school picture, first play, first time you said "Because I said so!" out of sheer exasperation, first date, first gray hair (mine), etc. etc. etc.

It seems TeenTuna has hit another milestone of sorts, although it's nothing that was ever covered on Little House on the Prairie, The Brady Bunch, or The Cosby Show, so it seems I will be flying solo on this one.

On Friday TeenTuna and I decided she was old enough and responsible enough (with parental supervision and editorial privileges) to have her very own space. We set it up together, she picked the color scheme and we hashed over lots of titles until we came up with something we thought fit just right. She was SO EXCITED when she was done, and proceeded to email all of her squirrelly friends. So, to all my readers, who have enjoyed so many TinyTuna stories of the past (those aren't going to stop, believe me) I'd like to breathe deeply and introduce:

GRACE NOTES


Be nice to her, or else.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Happen :: Occur

2. Terribly :: Horribly

3. History :: In the making

4. Master :: Of the Universe

5. Petrified :: Forest

6. Moan :: And Groan

7. Attack :: Of the Killer Tomatoes

8. Picture :: Movie

9. Students :: They never go away

10. Potter :: Harry


It never occurred to me until I reached number ten that these are all Harry Potterisms. When I mutter (blogaliciously speaking) I answer the prompts one at a time rather than scanning the whole list first.

So yeah, the next movie opens this week. And cable TV ran a Harry Potter marathon all last weekend. And Scout and TeenTuna and I sat and watched The Goblet of Fire yesterday afternoon as a sort of refresher before the next installment. And yeah, I've read the Order of the Phoenix (technically I listened to it) so I know what's going to happen. But I'm still geeked on seeing the next installment, because you know, Alan Rickman is in it, and maybe he'll battle some killer tomatoes.


Oh Wait. Wrong Movie.
Oh well.
Yippee-Cay-Yay.......Hufflepuffer!

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Happen :: Occur

2. Terribly :: Horribly

3. History :: In the making

4. Master :: Of the Universe

5. Petrified :: Forest

6. Moan :: And Groan

7. Attack :: Of the Killer Tomatoes

8. Picture :: Movie

9. Students :: They never go away

10. Potter :: Harry


It never occurred to me until I reached number ten that these are all Harry Potterisms. When I mutter (blogaliciously speaking) I answer the prompts one at a time rather than scanning the whole list first.

So yeah, the next movie opens this week. And cable TV ran a Harry Potter marathon all last weekend. And Scout and TeenTuna and I sat and watched The Goblet of Fire yesterday afternoon as a sort of refresher before the next installment. And yeah, I've read the Order of the Phoenix (technically I listened to it) so I know what's going to happen. But I'm still geeked on seeing the next installment, because you know, Alan Rickman is in it, and maybe he'll battle some killer tomatoes.


Oh Wait. Wrong Movie.
Oh well.
Yippee-Cay-Yay.......Hufflepuffer!

Friday, July 06, 2007

Friday's Feast

Well, it's been awhile, so lets see what's cooking over at The Friday Feast.
AIEEE! This week the kitchen is closed. So I'll make up my own.


Appetizer: What is the most unusual thing in your office?
There are so many possibilities here. I have a small army of peeps (the soft, plush variety, not the 4-month old stale crunchy variety) that protect me. I have one on my speaker. One on my pencil sharpener and one impaled on the top of a pen. And no, I didn't do that. It came that way. I also have the dreaded yellow hard hat hanging on my coat rack, and my favorite poster ("Idiocy") from my friends over at Demotivators.



Soup: What Doesn't Make Any Damn Sense in Your World?
1. Cold soup. On purpose cold.
2. Drivers who cut in front of you so they can be eight feet ahead of you...stuck in the exact same traffic you're stuck in.
3. Infants in a movie theater.
4. Talking on your cell phone in a public restroom.


Salad: Lake or Ocean?
Yes. And yes. Anywhere, anytime. Well, except Lake Superior when it's a teeth-rattling 53 degrees. That's a big-time yikes.


Main Course: If you had one vacation food wish, what would it be?
My vacation food wish would be that road food would be something other than pressed, fried, processed or poisonous. I know turnpike rest stops and the like have to cater (funny to even use that word there) to the broadest palate, otherwise known as the lowest common denominator, otherwise known as burger-chicken-pizza. But seriously, I would have just about killed for a vegetable emporium. Or maybe something called, "Hey! It's REAL FOOD!". I had meal at a Roy Rogers rest stop place (my lunch choices were that or Cinnabon for Emeril's sake) that just about killed me.


Dessert: Fireworks. Discuss
I have nothing against a profession display of pyrotechnics. Sadly, the Clampett Clan attempting to blow things up two houses away does NOT count. Extra sadly, there seemed to be no fatal accidents this year, so guess it looks like I can duck and cover again in 2008.

Friday's Feast

Well, it's been awhile, so lets see what's cooking over at The Friday Feast.
AIEEE! This week the kitchen is closed. So I'll make up my own.


Appetizer: What is the most unusual thing in your office?
There are so many possibilities here. I have a small army of peeps (the soft, plush variety, not the 4-month old stale crunchy variety) that protect me. I have one on my speaker. One on my pencil sharpener and one impaled on the top of a pen. And no, I didn't do that. It came that way. I also have the dreaded yellow hard hat hanging on my coat rack, and my favorite poster ("Idiocy") from my friends over at Demotivators.



Soup: What Doesn't Make Any Damn Sense in Your World?
1. Cold soup. On purpose cold.
2. Drivers who cut in front of you so they can be eight feet ahead of you...stuck in the exact same traffic you're stuck in.
3. Infants in a movie theater.
4. Talking on your cell phone in a public restroom.


Salad: Lake or Ocean?
Yes. And yes. Anywhere, anytime. Well, except Lake Superior when it's a teeth-rattling 53 degrees. That's a big-time yikes.


Main Course: If you had one vacation food wish, what would it be?
My vacation food wish would be that road food would be something other than pressed, fried, processed or poisonous. I know turnpike rest stops and the like have to cater (funny to even use that word there) to the broadest palate, otherwise known as the lowest common denominator, otherwise known as burger-chicken-pizza. But seriously, I would have just about killed for a vegetable emporium. Or maybe something called, "Hey! It's REAL FOOD!". I had meal at a Roy Rogers rest stop place (my lunch choices were that or Cinnabon for Emeril's sake) that just about killed me.


Dessert: Fireworks. Discuss
I have nothing against a profession display of pyrotechnics. Sadly, the Clampett Clan attempting to blow things up two houses away does NOT count. Extra sadly, there seemed to be no fatal accidents this year, so guess it looks like I can duck and cover again in 2008.

Hamster Chow

Daily Big Brother Recap (also known as the original "Tuna News") Over at The Big Wheel.

Big Brother Screen caps over at Desperate Hamsters.

Minute-by-minute blow by blow of hamster-mania over at Hamster Time.

Missed last night's show? The entire episode is online over at CBS InnerTube.

Not bad for a Friday, eh?

Hamster Chow

Daily Big Brother Recap (also known as the original "Tuna News") Over at The Big Wheel.

Big Brother Screen caps over at Desperate Hamsters.

Minute-by-minute blow by blow of hamster-mania over at Hamster Time.

Missed last night's show? The entire episode is online over at CBS InnerTube.

Not bad for a Friday, eh?

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Once More, With Feeling

Once more with feeling (though I'm not going to say necessarily what that feeling is) I'm back at the never-ending task of finding, weeding, filing, arranging, tossing, filing and cursing. It seems my household clutter is never-ending and everywhere I turn Satan's Seven Dwarfs are rearing their ugly little heads. The first thing to get tossed was a huge pile of Real Simple magazines. I love these publications. Each and every one of them tell me how to simplify my life by paring down, organizing and buying lots of container type things. I decided the best way to get rid of clutter was to get rid of an entire shelf of Real Simple magazines. Off you go!

Once more with feeling my guiltiest of pleasures (Scout not included) begins. Yes, it's the summertime mind-number Big Brother with all its wacky hijinks. No, there is not one single redeemable factor in this show. When it comes to Amazing Race and even Survivor, I can manage to squeeze out some sort of lame life lesson for TeenTuna (look: Teamwork! Being Polite! Be nice to the locals! Pay your cab driver!), but let's face it, Big Brother is the television version of Slim Jim's, Boone's Farm Strawberry Ripple and fried pork rinds.

Once more with feeling my workday (such that it was) has come to an end. Time to go home, clean up a bit and then find me a bag of rinds and a bottle of Ripple.

Once More, With Feeling

Once more with feeling (though I'm not going to say necessarily what that feeling is) I'm back at the never-ending task of finding, weeding, filing, arranging, tossing, filing and cursing. It seems my household clutter is never-ending and everywhere I turn Satan's Seven Dwarfs are rearing their ugly little heads. The first thing to get tossed was a huge pile of Real Simple magazines. I love these publications. Each and every one of them tell me how to simplify my life by paring down, organizing and buying lots of container type things. I decided the best way to get rid of clutter was to get rid of an entire shelf of Real Simple magazines. Off you go!

Once more with feeling my guiltiest of pleasures (Scout not included) begins. Yes, it's the summertime mind-number Big Brother with all its wacky hijinks. No, there is not one single redeemable factor in this show. When it comes to Amazing Race and even Survivor, I can manage to squeeze out some sort of lame life lesson for TeenTuna (look: Teamwork! Being Polite! Be nice to the locals! Pay your cab driver!), but let's face it, Big Brother is the television version of Slim Jim's, Boone's Farm Strawberry Ripple and fried pork rinds.

Once more with feeling my workday (such that it was) has come to an end. Time to go home, clean up a bit and then find me a bag of rinds and a bottle of Ripple.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Ready for Re-Entry

The beach towels are washed and put away, the mail has been read, filed or shredded, the refrigerator experiments have been released into the wild while new food items were purchased to take their place, and the various pets have been held and petted and cuddled and loved A LOT. Notice I said A LOT, but not too much, because Gabby is the neediest, meow-iest cat in the whole world. Just ask her.

It was an interesting vacation this year, and I learned several things about travel, vacation and myself. To whit:


Item The First: As I unpacked my suitcase this afternoon, I discovered I never once wore socks. Every single pair was clean and untouched, exactly where I put them two weeks ago. The closest I came to socks was donning the requisite pair of No-Nonsense Panty Hose when I heard TeenTuna sing at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. (It wasn't exactly gay apparel, but I thought it was the right thing to do). Otherwise, the entire vacation was a sandal, tennis shoe or flip-flop kind of affair. I'm thinking now I needed to get away because my feet were suffocating.


Item The Second: As I packed for vacation two weeks ago, I worried I was forgetting things. I always worry I am forgetting things as once, a few years ago, I went on vacation to the beach -- to the OCEAN where I've gone for the past many years -- and I forgot to bring a bathing suit. Any bathing suit. Which meant I had to buy one. At the beach. At the OCEAN. Where they know they have you right where they want you so you start sawing off an arm and a leg before you're inside the store.

Fortunately, I haven't forgotten a bathing suit since then, but now it isn't about that anyway. It isn't about forgetting your toothpaste or your socks (which you don't need). Now it's all about the cords. Going on vacation? I needed an inventory list of CORDS. Cell phone? Needs a cord. Portable DVD player? Needs THREE CORDS. Camera? Cord. iPod? Bazillion cords. GameBoy? Cord Cord Cord. It's crazy, I tell you, because just like a bathing suit, if you're missing a cord, you're going to be hunting for the first Radio Shack Cord-Emporium you can find (Nags Head, Mile Post 14. Just ask me), because it gets to the point that your car needs a CORD so you can have a splitter and plug MORE CORDS into your car because the GameBoy needs to recharge while you watch Pirates of the Caribbean for the 90th time. Getting all these cords right? It's a lot of pressure.


Item The Third: Little kids make things fun. This year was NephewSan's first year at the OCEAN with the BOATS and the BEACH and the...the....THE FISH and the RIVER (we don't know where that one came from) and considering he's just two years old, he did amazingly well. Whereas TeenTuna was scared to death of the ocean at that age, NephewSan wasn't frightened but was appropriately cautious. When he wasn't paying attention so much, I scooped him up and walked a ways into the ocean, and then next thing you knew a wave would come up and tickle his feet and guess what? It was ok. Then dad held him and they walked a little more and had a grand old time. GO IN OCEAN? became a common phrase. Right after SEASHELL! SEASHELL! SEASHELL! CRAB HOLE!! CRAB HOLE!! CRAB HOLE!! I think it took them twice as long to make it back to the house because he had to point out every single crab hole he saw. That kind of excitement was infectious and reminded us why we love the ocean so much.


Item The Last: It was good to go, but it's good to be home. I'm not sure that is so much of a discovery, but what seemed different this year was that I didn't dread vacation coming to an end. I didn't spend the last day at the beach feeling depressed that it was the last day and I had to leave. This year, somehow, it was OK, and it wasn't because there was anything inferior about our trip. Quite the contrary, the weather was perfect (it rained uh.....NEVER) and everything went quite well. And it wasn't because I didn't need a vacation. Believe me, I NEEDED A VACATION. BADLY. I had been running on empty for quite awhile and needed to exit the GreenTuna superhighway of insanity. But I'm glad I'm back, and after 24 hours, re-entry hasn't been bad at all. In fact, it's been pretty darn good.

Watch out. I'm rested and ready to go.

Ready for Re-Entry

The beach towels are washed and put away, the mail has been read, filed or shredded, the refrigerator experiments have been released into the wild while new food items were purchased to take their place, and the various pets have been held and petted and cuddled and loved A LOT. Notice I said A LOT, but not too much, because Gabby is the neediest, meow-iest cat in the whole world. Just ask her.

It was an interesting vacation this year, and I learned several things about travel, vacation and myself. To whit:


Item The First: As I unpacked my suitcase this afternoon, I discovered I never once wore socks. Every single pair was clean and untouched, exactly where I put them two weeks ago. The closest I came to socks was donning the requisite pair of No-Nonsense Panty Hose when I heard TeenTuna sing at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. (It wasn't exactly gay apparel, but I thought it was the right thing to do). Otherwise, the entire vacation was a sandal, tennis shoe or flip-flop kind of affair. I'm thinking now I needed to get away because my feet were suffocating.


Item The Second: As I packed for vacation two weeks ago, I worried I was forgetting things. I always worry I am forgetting things as once, a few years ago, I went on vacation to the beach -- to the OCEAN where I've gone for the past many years -- and I forgot to bring a bathing suit. Any bathing suit. Which meant I had to buy one. At the beach. At the OCEAN. Where they know they have you right where they want you so you start sawing off an arm and a leg before you're inside the store.

Fortunately, I haven't forgotten a bathing suit since then, but now it isn't about that anyway. It isn't about forgetting your toothpaste or your socks (which you don't need). Now it's all about the cords. Going on vacation? I needed an inventory list of CORDS. Cell phone? Needs a cord. Portable DVD player? Needs THREE CORDS. Camera? Cord. iPod? Bazillion cords. GameBoy? Cord Cord Cord. It's crazy, I tell you, because just like a bathing suit, if you're missing a cord, you're going to be hunting for the first Radio Shack Cord-Emporium you can find (Nags Head, Mile Post 14. Just ask me), because it gets to the point that your car needs a CORD so you can have a splitter and plug MORE CORDS into your car because the GameBoy needs to recharge while you watch Pirates of the Caribbean for the 90th time. Getting all these cords right? It's a lot of pressure.


Item The Third: Little kids make things fun. This year was NephewSan's first year at the OCEAN with the BOATS and the BEACH and the...the....THE FISH and the RIVER (we don't know where that one came from) and considering he's just two years old, he did amazingly well. Whereas TeenTuna was scared to death of the ocean at that age, NephewSan wasn't frightened but was appropriately cautious. When he wasn't paying attention so much, I scooped him up and walked a ways into the ocean, and then next thing you knew a wave would come up and tickle his feet and guess what? It was ok. Then dad held him and they walked a little more and had a grand old time. GO IN OCEAN? became a common phrase. Right after SEASHELL! SEASHELL! SEASHELL! CRAB HOLE!! CRAB HOLE!! CRAB HOLE!! I think it took them twice as long to make it back to the house because he had to point out every single crab hole he saw. That kind of excitement was infectious and reminded us why we love the ocean so much.


Item The Last: It was good to go, but it's good to be home. I'm not sure that is so much of a discovery, but what seemed different this year was that I didn't dread vacation coming to an end. I didn't spend the last day at the beach feeling depressed that it was the last day and I had to leave. This year, somehow, it was OK, and it wasn't because there was anything inferior about our trip. Quite the contrary, the weather was perfect (it rained uh.....NEVER) and everything went quite well. And it wasn't because I didn't need a vacation. Believe me, I NEEDED A VACATION. BADLY. I had been running on empty for quite awhile and needed to exit the GreenTuna superhighway of insanity. But I'm glad I'm back, and after 24 hours, re-entry hasn't been bad at all. In fact, it's been pretty darn good.

Watch out. I'm rested and ready to go.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think ::

1. Partner :: In Crime

2. News :: Flash

3. Foam :: Cushion

4. Paycheck :: Friday

5. Me :: Myself and I

6. Eight :: Crazy

7. Dairy :: Farmer

8. Exciting :: Thrilling

9. Hockey :: Make sure it's spelled right

10. Socialite :: Sounds like too much work to me


It's shout-out week at Unconscious Mutterings. Whether you're my partner in crime, a pull-out sofa bed with a mattress the thickness of a soft-shelled taco, a dairy-farmer descendant, a stickler for good spelling on first dates or just me, myself and I....

I'm back.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think ::

1. Partner :: In Crime

2. News :: Flash

3. Foam :: Cushion

4. Paycheck :: Friday

5. Me :: Myself and I

6. Eight :: Crazy

7. Dairy :: Farmer

8. Exciting :: Thrilling

9. Hockey :: Make sure it's spelled right

10. Socialite :: Sounds like too much work to me


It's shout-out week at Unconscious Mutterings. Whether you're my partner in crime, a pull-out sofa bed with a mattress the thickness of a soft-shelled taco, a dairy-farmer descendant, a stickler for good spelling on first dates or just me, myself and I....

I'm back.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And TEENTUNA thinks ::

1. Partner :: In Crime

2. News :: Extra! Extra! Read about it!

3. Foam :: Packing Peanuts

4. Paycheck :: Sorry, I don't get one

5. Me :: Myself and I

6. Eight :: Crazy

7. Dairy :: Queen (w/ many ice cream concoctions)

8. Exciting :: CedarPoint

9. Hockey :: Player

10. Socialite :: Come again??

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And TEENTUNA thinks ::

1. Partner :: In Crime

2. News :: Extra! Extra! Read about it!

3. Foam :: Packing Peanuts

4. Paycheck :: Sorry, I don't get one

5. Me :: Myself and I

6. Eight :: Crazy

7. Dairy :: Queen (w/ many ice cream concoctions)

8. Exciting :: CedarPoint

9. Hockey :: Player

10. Socialite :: Come again??