Half-assed Christmas

Hello, my friends. It has been too long. I came to find out that I do not enjoy regular blogging on a chosen subject (Survivor: China) unless I am being paid to do such writing. So, while you are busy forgiving and forgetting my absence, I will take this opportunity to muse on what I call "half-assed Christmas."

Two days before Thanksgiving, I saw the first resident of Old Village Lane beginning his outdoor Christmas decorating. He lined his walkway with lights and plastic candy canes and adorned the nearest leafless tree with light strands of its own. However, whether for lack of bulbs or lack of style I do not know, but he only put the lights around the tree trunk and partway up the branches. I would have thought he would come back later and finish, but he did the same thing last year, so I know he has no plans of continuing. He got a jump on the holiday season by beginning his decorating before everyone else in the neighborhood, but he did a half-assed job. In my opinion, it would have been better to do nothing at all.

My next objection is to specific time-saving Christmas decorations themselves. Now, I'm not one to say you should always go to the woods and chop down your own pine for a Christmas tree. I myself enjoy the benefits of a prelit artificial tree. However, I happen to believe that this prelit, artificial tree manages to convey a realistic appearance and elegance. Nets made out of twinkly lights thrown hapharzardly onto bushes and a yard filled with inflatable Santas do not. I actually drove by a house that had at least 8 of those inflatable monstrosities not only on the grass, but hanging from the trees! An inflatable airplane piloted by Santa Claus! My one question there was how Santa was simultaneously flying the inflatable airplane while also riding the inflatable ferris wheel and driving the inflatable motorcycle.

So, if you have yet to put up your outdoor Christmas displays at your place of residence, please recall what I'm saying here and put a whole-assed effort into it. After all, Christmas is the season for giving, not laziness.

Jesus Saves, Except on Survivor

This blog is way late because, frankly, I've been way busy. But I haven't read anyone else's Survivor blogs, in order to keep my thoughts pure. And since this is so late and probably no one reads it anyway, I will reduce my comments on episode three to a bulleted list.

-There has to be something wrong with Courtney. Sure, I felt slight sympathy for her when she spoke about being treated like a little chihuahua and always being stuck "where she'll do the least damage," but for goodness' sake, did you see the girl struggling to cut those ropes? Peih-Gee isn't a muscular woman, but she didn't stand their wielding a machete like it had a bowling ball attached to one end. I really wonder how she even made it past the show's medical team. There should be a minimum weight limit to play.

-Poker player or not, Jean-Robert is not the brightest crayon in the box. Has he ever seen Survivor before? You don't want to be known as the lazy one, or the obnoxious one who talks about his tribemates when they're obviously within hearing distance. Master Todd may have spared him this time, but with the way he's going, I don't see him making it to the merge.

-I totally called it on the pillow/blanket reward.

-My first impression of James was a sort of John Coffee from The Green Mile type -- large, quiet, and maybe even a bit magical. After listening to him talk with Jean-Robert in the water, he seems more like a big meathead with way more braun than brains. I can only hope he was trying out some of Andy Bernard's famous personality mirroring.

-And finally, the departure of dear, sweet Leslie. She didn't stand much of a chance from day one, being so trusting, naive, and openly Christian. Maybe if she would have been a member of Zhan Hu, her luck would have been different, but it seems her desire to form relationships and make friends came back to bite her in her God-fearing behind.

-And finally

Episode 2: Ashley Gets the Smackdown

I didn't get a chance to watch this week's episode until today, due to the Cloverleaf/Hanson concert on Thursday night and a murder-mystery dinner with coworkers last night, but I was finally able to sit down this morning to watch episode two of Survivor: China.

My immediate thought during the opening sequence this week was, "There's someone named Amanda on this show?" I don't remember even catching a glimpse of this girl last week. They more than made up for her lack of air time in the first episode, though, by showing her forming an alliance with Todd and then giving ample coverage to her un-amply covered breasts during the reward challenge. At least she bared it all in the heat of competition rather than for some peanut butter and oreo cookies.

Speaking of the reward challenge, what a challenge it must have been for the editors to blur out all of the naked body parts in this one! It has to be expected in such a hands-on game taking place in a pool of mud, but still. Guy commented that he wouldn't be surprised if a few of the girls accidentally got pregnant after that debacle. All nudity aside, Fei Long won the battle, 2 goals to zip, but Zhan Hu did put up a good fight. You have to wonder, though, what the producers were thinking when they arranged these tribes. They seem so mismatched as far as physical strength goes that I'm beginning to wonder if Frosti and the gang will ever be able to pull it together and win something. Fei Long got their fishing gear* and another morale booster, while Zhan Hu was sent back to a flooded campsite. Things don't seem like they'll be looking up anytime soon.

After the reward challenge, we see the first twist of this season of Survivor. The winning tribe gets to kidnap a member of the losing tribe to stay at their camp until the immunity challenge. They unanimously choose Jaime, and so our braless blonde goes off to spend a few days on the winning side of life. Todd immediately warns his tribemates to keep an eye on their valuable items, like flint, because he suspects that Jaime might try to steal something. This guy is sharper than I thought he'd be. I definitely underestimated him. Then, in another mini-twist, Jaime gets a note saying to give a bamboo tube containing a clue to the location of the hidden immunity idol to a Fei Long member of her choice. She chooses Leslie because she considers her to be the weakest. I guess Jean-Robert's lazy "act" didn't fool her. Leslie proceeds to run and tell Todd about the clue, thinking it will help her gain his trust. In reality, all it does is give Todd reason to make her the next one on the chopping block so that he'll be the only one left who knows about the hidden idol. Maybe if the resident poker expert wasn't busy sleeping all the time, he could have given Leslie some tips on keeping her cards close to her chest.

Jaime's taste of the high life was soon over as the tribes met up for another brute-strength-geared challenge. Dave faltered at the head of the battering ram and took the blame for Zhan Hu's loss, though I don't think they ever stood much of a chance against James' muscles to begin with. And so, back at camp before tribal council, the Ashley v. Dave debate begins. It seems as if the whole tribe knows that one of the two has to go, including Dave and Ashley themselves. Ashley chooses not to voice her opinions at camp, but rather at tribal council, and it may have been too little, too late. Even though seemingly everyone agreed that Dave is an overbearing, patronizing leader, Ashley was the one whose torch was snuffed out. Apparently her personality isn't as fake as her boobs, so Ashley's inability to keep her opinions to herself puts the nails in her coffin.

Another week in the Chinese wilderness is behind us. Last week, we lost a guy because he wouldn't voice his opinions. This week, we lost the girl that spoke up too much. There's just no telling what's in store for us on episode three of Survivor: China.





*I know that the reward challenges at the beginning of the game usually include camp-life necessities, but I'm tired of the same old, same old. How about giving out something helpful but more interesting than pillows and blankets next week, like the survivors' luggage, for instance?

Survivor: China: Chicken Gets His Head Cut Off

Needless to say, my first prediction of the Survivor: China voting order was dead wrong. Todd wasn't nearly as flamboyant as I thought he'd be right off the bat, though he did have a few, "Oh, no, you di'nt" moments in there. His tribe ended up with the immunity idol, so from there on out, my chances of a perfect record were shot. Chicken was the first to have his head on the chopping block, and although he didn't run around wildly for 15 minutes after he was voted off, he did manage to shock his fellow tribemates by exclaiming, "DAMN!" after the final vote was read. And when Jeff gave him the usual "the tribe has spoken" line, his response was one of the best I've heard yet -- a downtrodden, yet arrogantly toned, "Yeah, I heard 'em." Oh, Chicken, I'm sad to see you go. Let's hope Frosti can stick it out and represent for the oddly named folks on the Zhan Hu tribe.

As far as the rest of the episode goes, it was a typical start of a Survivor season with a slightly more intriguing backdrop. Thank God for the b-roll clips of Pandas climbing through trees rather than the snakes and insects that usually get featured in the tropical settings. We got glimpses into a few of the Survivors' personalities, but nothing so deep yet as to have us attached to anyone. For instance, we've got Courtney, the New York City Bitch, who glared at the Buddhist monk when he repeatedly fixed her stance during the "welcome" ceremony. And then there's Leslie, the Christian radio talk show host who managed to contradict herself in the same sentence after she refused to participate in what she considered to be idol worship and stated, "I'm not religious, but I am a follower of Jesus Christ." Huh? And finally, there's Jaime. I was convinced she hadn't said a word the entire episode until Guy reminded me that she was the one who proudly told Jeff, "I don't have a bra." When will these people learn to wear functional clothing every second of the day until they're given a map to their tribe's island? With season after season of contestants being forced to jump off boats and swim for their lives, you'd think people would start using their heads.

There is so much more I can say about last night's show, but I'll leave you to ponder the rest. Till next week...

My T-Shirt Design

I designed this t-shirt on Zazzle.com. If you buy it, I can earn some money, and you'll have a cool shirt! It's a win-win situation.


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Survivor: China

So, season 3,598 of Survivor begins on September 20th, coming from the mysterious country of China. I'm really debating whether or not to continue my loyalty to Survivor this season. Though last season was salvaged by the antics of Yao Man, the whole format (no matter how hard they try to change it) is getting kind of boring to me, especially because the winner usually ends up being someone that I don't like. However, for some unknown reason, I feel guilty giving up on a show I've watched for so long, so in order to give myself some incentive to watch, or at least keep up with blogs on the show, I'm going to do something I've never done before -- make predictions on the order of the ousted. I don't normally like making predictions like this because, well, I'm just not a good guesser, but I'm bored, so I'll give it a shot. Here goes, in order from first person voted off to winner:
1. Todd, the gay Mormon
He thinks the Spice Girls are the most significant historical event of the past 100 years. He should be voted off the planet for that one.
2. Courtney, the New York waitress
I think she thinks she's tougher than she really is.
3. Denise, the mullet-sporting karate woman
She may be strong, but I just can't see her fitting in with the crowd
4. Jaime, the cute blonde
I just don't like cute blondes.
5. Jean-Robert, the professional poker player
He may have a good poker face, but Vegas is nothing like being stranded in China.
6. Peih-Gee, the jeweler
She probably only lasts this long because no one could figure out how to spell her name to put down on the parchment.
7. Sherea, the elementary school teacher
She just looks like a good choice for number seven -- good enough to fly under the radar up until this point.
8. Erik, the...I don't know...I can't see anything past his curly hair.
I think this guy's ego might get in the way.
9. Leslie, the token Christian
She auditioned 11 times to finally make it on the show, but I think her time will be up at number 9.
10. Chicken -- yes, that's only a nickname.
People will start to see him as a shoe-in for the win and get him out of there before he can say cock-a-doodle-doo.
11. James, the gravedigger
He might be the outsider at this point, so it's just his time to go.
12. Amanda, the hiking guide
She may not be the first choice, but the first choice might get immunity, forcing votes for her.
13. Dave, the former model -- that's the best title he could give himself?
I have nothing to say to you, Dave.
14. Aaron, the surfer dude.
I think Frosti will win the final immunity and choose to go against Ashley.
15. Ashley, the WWE diva
and that makes the winner of Survivor:China, according to my illogical methods none other than Frosti the Snowman. I think he'll finally be able to to afford a new silk hat with the million-dollar prize.

So there you have it. Let's follow along and see how wrong I am!

The Long-awaited Florence message #2

Guy got a new laptop and finally was able to record the second message from the infamous Florence. To listen to it and see our artistic representation of what we think she looks like, go here.

Rage Against the Machine

Peters Township Library is consistently ranked among the best libraries in Pennsylvania, yet not only do I get the urge to poop every time I enter the place (seriously), I consistently leave there feeling unsatisfied. And the lack of satisfaction isn't due to the fact that I never actually poop while I'm there, but mainly it's related to my beef with the library's DVD section. I went there today to get Borat, which the card catalog told me was available, but I left empty-handed (well, aside from the book I had on hold). You might be saying, "Your library has Borat? You should be happy they even stock current releases." Nay, my friend. Going to the library to get a current release that is supposedly there, then being told it would be impossible to find is even worse. Here's the deal -- I go directly to the DVD section and look through shelves of poorly alphabetized cases, all the way from A to Z, only to realize Borat is missing from the collection. I do another search of the card catalog to make sure it hasn't been checked out since I last searched around 1:30 at work. It says there should be one copy available. I ask the woman at the desk if it might be in the back somewhere because the card catalog says it's in, but it's not on the shelf. The other woman standing there pulls out a bin beneath the desk and says, "It's not in the bin, and if it's in the back, they're double-stacked." The original woman then says to me, "Yeah, there's no way we can find it." Okay, last time I checked, libraries did not superglue their recently returned DVDs to the carts they store them on. Double-stacked my ass! Take a minute and go look through the pile to see if the movie I want is in. Could it really be that difficult? I think the problem is the women at the front desk are elitists who are either bitter they were never able to get their master's degrees and become real librarians or just bitter because they're old, and they refuse to have anything to do with the lowly duties of redistributing library materials to their proper housing places. Finally, I was told that the girl who shelves DVDs will be in over the weekend, and it should be available by then. So now I either have to return to the library in hopes that Borat will be shelved and not snapped up by another library patron or shell out the 3 bucks to rent it. I'm guessing I'll do the latter. The point is, I don't know what criteria Peters Township Library's high status is based upon, but it probably isn't "ability to induce spontaneous bowel movements." So, why all the praise? I see nothing more than a pretty building with a decent selection of materials, grumpy staff, and poor service.

Driving Tales

If only the man in front of me with the Maryland license plate and the "pro-woman, pro-child, pro-life" bumper sticker was pro-safe-driving, I thought, as his car weaved down the road while he rummaged through his front seat and munched on something at the same time. His head bobbed back and forth to look at every street sign, and he slowed down at every intersection until he finally slammed on his brakes, quickly flicked on his right-turn signal, and swung into a parking spot in front of -- get this -- Vocelli's Pizza. Did he come all the way across the Mason-Dixon line for a slice of pie, or did he just have a hankering for some semi-good pizza after his March for Life across the South Hills? The world may never know.

The Ups and Downs of My Relationship with KG

No, not Kyle Gass -- Kathy Griffin. If blogger had the ability to post charts and graphs, I would conveniently show you my feelings about the popular D-lister through an eloquently formed line graph. However, blogger does not have that ability, or if it does, I'm unaware of it. Therefore, I must explain my torrid relationship with Kathy in words rather than charts.

Stage one: I hate Kathy Griffin and carry this feeling throughout my life, though I'm not sure I have any basis for feeling this way.

Stage two: I get addicted to Bravo's reality shows, one of which is Kathy's "My Life on the D-list." Despite her bad hair, she moves up in my book to "somewhat likable" and "definitely entertaining."

Stage three: I find out that Kathy is friends with Rosie O'Donnell. In the words of "Best Week Ever" -- DOWNGRADE!

Stage four: I watch one of Kathy's stand-up acts where she repeatedly makes fun of Lindsay Lohan. The red-headed funny lady is back on my A-list.

And that is where we stand now, so we'll have to see how things change as I watch the new season of "My Life on the D-list" and find more reasons to have a love/hate relationship with a person who doesn't know I exist.

Fill in the Blank

I remember learning at some point in my educational career about interviews and quoting people in writing. Somewhere in that literary lesson was an explanation of how to quote someone but include a word or two that maybe they didn't exactly say. If my memory serves me correctly, doing this involved putting the unspoken words in brackets so that the sentence would make sense but the reader would know that those particular words didn't come from the person being quoted. For instance, if Guy were asked to describe me as a person, he might say, "Caity is a nice girl." Then, when I was writing an article about myself in the local paper, I would write, Guy Tarbert says of his wife, "Caity [is the most beautiful and creative] girl [I know]. Obviously that's a stretch, but hopefully you know what I'm talking about by now.

See, the thing is, whenever I see those little substitutionary brackets in real news articles, I wonder what the original person actually did say. For instance, this quote is taken from an the AP's coverage of Larry David and his wife's recent breakup.
"The split was "very amicable and ... they're going to continue to raise their two (daughters) together as friends," spokeswoman Heather Lylis said Tuesday."

What did Heather really say in place of "daughters"? "They're going to continue to raise their two clumsy Jewish fembots together as friends"? Their alien hermaphrodite children? What? It's almost like a pop culture game of Mad Libs. And you know I love Mad Libs.

Wow!

Last night, I watched the best two hours of television I have ever seen in my life -- the LOST finale. I just wanted to post some of my thoughts/questions and get a reaction from those of you who might have viewed the episode, as well.


IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET, SCROLL NO FURTHER!


















Questions:
- What temple are the Others going to, and why?
- Is Mikhail invincible, or was the spear gun simply set at a "non-lethal level"?
- Along the same lines, are Mikhail and Locke able to harness some sort of healing power of the island? After seeing Walt, Locke seemed perfectly fine to me.
- Who is Ben protecting the island from, and what goal does he really have in jamming the transmissions?
-How is Penelope sending out a transmission to the island, yet she doesn't seem to know the island exists? (she questions Charlie when he says they're on an island).
-If Naomi isn't with Penelope, why did she have a picture of Desmond?
-Who is Naomi with? Was she lying about flight 815 being found, or was that sincere?
-Who was in the coffin???
-Is Jack's dad alive again, in some sort of alternate future reality?
-Why isn't Kate in jail?
-Who is the "he" that Kate mentions will be waiting for her?

Awesome Moments:
-Rose's many one-liners
-Ben asking who the person in the Looking Glass was, the woman responding, "He won't tell me," and Charlie shouting in the background, "It's Charlie! Tell him I said hi!"
-Desmond diving down to the Looking Glass and postponing Charlie's existence at least long enough for him to complete the mission
-Charlie writing "Not Penny's Boat" on his hand, rather than some cheesy message to Claire
-Sayid, Bernard, and Jin not really getting shot after all!
-Hurley's kamikaze VW van trip
-Sayid snapping a guy's neck with his legs!
-WALT!!!!!
-Locke rising from the grave
-Rousseau finally reuniting with Alex


And that's all I've got for now, except one last thing. The whole situation with Jack wanting desperately to go back to the island but not being able to get there reminded me of a story or movie I've seen/read/heard in the past, but I can't place what it was. All I remember is some sort of fantasy land and someone desperately wanting to go back, but they grow old and forget about it, maybe? The only thing I can think of that sort of relates is Peter Pan, but I don't think that's what I'm remembering. Anybody have any idea?

Let me know your thoughts/questions/comments/theories. We've got plenty of time to discuss!

Home Sweet Home

Aside from the partial band-aid stuck to the garage floor, almost all of the traces of the old owners are now extinguished from our home. The last of the sickening blue paint is gone, and it's really starting to feel like ours. It took awhile, but in the words of Little Orphan Annie, "I think I'm gonna like it here!"

You can see some before and after pictures on Guy's photo website here.

Other than that, life keeps plugging along at a swift pace. I don't think I have any free weekends until July due to bridal showers, weddings, etc., but I like being busy...I think.

In other news, I saw the largest dog in the world sniff the smallest dog in the world's butt on Oprah today, and it was a hilarious sight.

Going Above and Beyond

Is there such a thing as too much customer service? I think so. Case in point -- Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Love the store, don't love the employee strategies. All I want to do is browse through the tablecloths uninterrupted, but lurking around every corner is an eager shelf-stocker that has been instructed, I'm sure, to greet me and ask me if I'm finding everything okay. I appreciate being acknowledged in a place where I can never seem to find what I need and always spend a lot of money, but sometimes less really is more. The problem is not that I am antisocial and want to shop in peace, true as it may be. The problem is that I can barely make it into the Bed and certainly nowhere near the Beyond without being greeted over and over again by every worker with whom I cross paths. Even when I deliberately avoid eye contact and walk on the other side of the aisle, it makes no difference. Occassionally, an employee will lap me and spout out the canned greeting again, as if we've never come in contact before. In my eyes, there are only three logical reasons for this type of behavior.
1. Employee nametags are actually small tasers that deliver an electrical jolt if Stocker (or Stalker) Steve neglects to make me feel "welcome."
2. The person who says hello to the most people in one day wins a large sum of money.
3. Bed, Bath, and Beyond does not, in fact, employ human beings, but robots.

Whatever the case may be, it won't stop me from shopping there, but it sure does give me the heeby-jeebies.

Next time, I will discuss the almost-as-annoying sales tactics used by furniture salesmen. Now, there's what I call true stalking.

*On a side note, if anyone receives Bed, Bath, and Beyond coupons in the mail and does not use them, could you please save them and give them to me? I need as many as I can get. Thank you.

The Boys (and me) are Back in Town

I've been back from Disney World for a week now, but it feels like it's been forever since I was there. Isn't time weird like that?

For now, just a few random notes:

-My mom got Guy the same birthday card this year that I got for him last year. No, it obviously wasn't something romantic and mushy, just a good old humorous birthday card. It has a monkey on the front saying something to the tone of, "What do you want for your birthday? Money? Power? Greek art? Real estate?" and on the inside, it says, "Did I hear you say 'Monkey card?'" Classic.

- I found a pile of mail sitting at my front door that was postmarked from a month ago. One of my neighbors must have gotten the whole stack, but it bothers me that it took them a month to decide to return it. Weird.

- I got a bill from the doctor's office for 17 dollars today for my visit on October 3, 2006, for what purpose, I do not know. The only reason why I sent them a check is because I got a check from them a few months ago for 15 dollars for no apparent reason either. Something's up with their billing company, me thinks.

-Top Design is down to the final four, and I don't really care who wins. It may be Bravo's first reality show that I don't enjoy watching. I have also given up on America's Next Top Model. Survivor is pushing it, as this season is pretty boring, too, but at least they kept Rocky last week. He makes for better television than Anthony did, as much as I feel bad for the guy.

YouTubin'

Here are some more of my favorite videos.

I saw this girl on Oprah a while back, and I was just amazed at how she can do this. I'm glad I found the video on YouTube. She's a piano prodigy who makes up an entire song after Oprah chooses five random notes for the melody.

This one is an extended version of the baby from the TV commercial that names all the presidents in a book. I think it was originally on "America's Funniest Home Videos," as you can maybe tell from the cheesy music in the background at the beginning. Guy and I love how the mother tries to flip past Theodore Roosevelt's page, but the baby isn't having that at all.

Oscar Moments

If you didn't see this last night on the Oscars, you should watch it now. After Jack and Will's first Academy Awards duet from a few years back, I didn't think I'd see the pair on stage together again, so this was a pleasant surprise. And they gave them even more air time this time around!

A Comedian at the Oscars

Also, this was kind of cool and weird.

My So-Called Photographic Memory

As I mentioned in the previous post, I rented the first three episodes of "My So-Called Life" from the library yesterday. It's been a while since I've seen it, and I don't know if I ever really saw the entire season, but as soon as I watched the first 15 minutes of the pilot, all the characters and memorable moments of the show came flooding back to me. Each time Graham or Patty said something, I could have sworn that I'd seen them in many things since their days on the show. Same goes for Rickie and little Brian Krakow. Tormented by the "what have I seen them in lately?" feeling, I perused the My So-Called Life section of IMDB, only to find that, aside from Claire Danes and Jared Leto, none of them have been in anything significant, or at least nothing that would have left an impression. A few episodes of CSI, a made-for-TV-movie here or there, but overall, a big list of side jobs. Disappointing as it may be, I guess it just makes me all the more excited to sit down and relive the life and times of Angela Chase. At least this time, I'm old enough to understand it.

Bring It On

I found out yesterday that we will be in Disney World at the same time as the national high school cheerleading championships and that we are taking the same flight home as the Canon Mac squad. Disney might be the happiest place on earth, but I don't know if it has the power to drown out hordes of perky (in the annoying kind of way) teenage girls. I'm not looking forward to the experience, but there is one good thing that will come out if it. If we're on the plane with the cheerleaders on the way home, that means less open seats that could go to a potential terrorist. See? I'm always looking on the bright side.

And just to throw in a very applicable quote from "My So-Called Life" that I rented from the library yesterday, "Can't people just cheer on their own?"

Old People Say the Darndest Things

I think I'm going to start producing a new television show called "Old People Say the Darndest Things." Obviously, it will be the same type of show as Bill Cosby's creation that bore close to the same name, but with one key difference. As you might have guessed, the people saying the darndest things will not be kids, but old people (or grandparents, if the networks think "old people" might be offensive.) The host wouldn't quite ask pointed questions as much as he would gently guide the old people in their storytelling. My grandma would be the first guest, as she has perfected the art of saying the darndest things (most of the time without even knowing it). Here are a few examples:

*"Is Christopher turning Jewish? I remember the Jewish family I used to work for. There were five children. I'll always remember their names. There was Sidney, Harvey, Harry...and I don't remember the rest."

*Grandma: Caity, you have a good singing voice.

Me: No, Grandma, I really don't.

Grandma: Sure, you do. You're just being down on yourself. I bet Jonathan has a good voice, too. It probably runs in the family. You probably all have good voices....well, except Christopher.

*"I'm on lots of medications." She begins to list them...
"And I take cubadin. That's rat poison!"

As you can see, if you can get them going, you never know what's going to come out of their mouths next. Since there is no shame in the television world of completely ripping off other networks' programming concepts (think of the boom of home-makeover shows after Trading Spaces emerged), I really think this show could work...or at least last longer than ABC's "Daybreak," right?

It's Electric

For the past few weeks, I've been getting constantly shocked by static electricity just about every time I touch something in our house. The other day, I was laying on the couch watching television, and when I got up and went to the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and noticed that I looked like a physics student who had just tried out the Van de Graaf generator. My hair was sticking up all over the place...by its own free will. I thought the cause of all of this electricity might be the slippers that I'm alway shuffling around the house in, but I've now discovered that even when wearing regular shoes or just socks, I get shocked all the same. Yesterday when I hit the light switch, a blue spark actually shot out and caught my clothes on fire. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but it was definitely the worst jolt yet. I've been tolerating all this minor electrocution as much as possible, but today, I got shocked by the last thing I thought would ever be capable of shocking me...a pie. Guy and I baked a pie for Valentine's dessert, and it was sitting on the stove to cool. When I gently touched the top to see if it was ready for devouring, I heard the familiar "pop" sound and felt that unforgettable zap shoot through my hand. Who would have thought a scrumptious pastry could wreak such havoc? Needless to say, I was truly shocked...in all senses of the word.

Must Love Dogs

Once upon a time, there was a magical dog named Falcor. No, not the good luck dragon from The Neverending Story. I'm talking about the half black lab, half golden retriever wonder dog whose full name was Falcor Bean Elmo Roach Rigatti. Falcor was a good pup, but he had one weakness -- bitches (and I say that in the most proper female-dog sense only). Seriously, though. He was a womanizer. Even as a senior citizen, he managed to sire a litter of puppies with a mutt who will remain nameless, thus leaving his legacies -- Bubby, Chewy, Peaches, and Stewball. As newborns, it was hard to tell if they would take after their mother or their father, as they could only be described as "pop bottles with legs." When it was time to be weened, Stewball soon found a home with the owner of a pizza parlor and lived a happy life until he fell victim to a reckless driver. Any time I heard "Only the Good Die Young," I can't help but think of dear Stewball. Peaches lived with her father for the majority of her childhood, until she was given to a family friend. Hopefully she is still out there somewhere, making her father proud. And that leaves Bubby and Chewy, the inseparable brothers. A wise man once said of them, "They are one dog in two bodies." The two boys lived out many adventures together until one day, Bubby, at a ripe old age, succombed to liver failure. Now the lone pet of the household, Chewy mourned his brother's loss, but also suddenly realized the benefits of being the newly crowned king. One such benefit is the receiving of all the family pet Christmas gifts. This Christmas, Chewy received a dog bed. He is used to sleeping on the carpeted floors, or occassionally sneaking onto a spare bed, but we thought his old bones could use some support, so Jonathan and Emily invested in a bed for him. Their college-student penny-pinching ways first led them to buy a bed that was a bit too small for a dog Chewy's size, which led to some entertaining photo opportunities, but that bed was eventually exchanged for a proper one -- one that Chewy still cannot quite get the hang of. See, for example, the scene last night:



A little smooshed, but so far, so good.

And then we have this...


I guess what they say about old dogs learning tricks is true in his case. Still, no matter if he never learns a new trick again, Chewy and his bloodline will always be remembered as quite the special members of the canine family.

Season's Greetings from the Psychotic Gingerbread Man

My company has an annual competition at the Western PA School for the Deaf for the best holiday illustration. The employees get to vote on their favorite, and the winning design is sent out on the company Christmas cards. There are a large variety of age levels and artistic abilities represented in the choices, which sometimes leads me to wonder what would happen if certain less attractive designs actually received the most votes. Would the company really allow that to be the winner, even if it's not picture perfect? This year, I had a clear favorite, and Beth and I tried to campaign to get it votes, but it only ended up with an honorable mention. Some day, I would like to meet the child that drew this picture and find out where they got their idea of what a gingerbread man looks like. I hope their parents save this drawing until they are old enough to appreciate its humor. Maybe I'll just have to ditch the half-off Martha Stewart Christmas cards I bought for next year and make my own cards featuring the Psychotic Gingerbread Man instead.

Generic, yet Intriguing Post

Even though I didn't fall into the category of those tagged by Katie, since I had in fact updated within a week of when she posted, I will succomb to the blog gods and complete this "five things you don't know about me" entry. Actually, I'm just bored and don't have a more interesting topic to write about, so here goes:

1. I crave candy or chocolate from the moment I wake up in the morning. In fact, I just finished an entire box of Necco conversation hearts (minus five white ones), and I haven't even left the bedroom yet.

2. I don't like kids and don't know if I ever want to have ones of my own. Yes, this is odd, coming from someone with a degree in Elementary Education, but let's just say that Grove City didn't offer a large choice of majors. Sure, kids are sometimes cute and do say the darndest things, but the thought of actually raising them and dealing with them on a daily basis is just not appealing to me at this point in my life. Who wants to think about rearing a moody teenager when they're not that far out of the moody-teenager stage themselves?

3. I love money. I know, I know. The love of money is the root of all evil, but I can't help enjoying seeing the flow of cash into and out of (mostly the latter) our checkbook. I enjoy putting things in our budget and planning for expenditures. If that makes me evil, so be it. Maybe I should have been an accountant.

4. I think that time never goes slower than when you're waiting for a microwave to cook. That's not exactly about me, but it can still count. I used to race the clock and see how many laps around the kitchen, squats, or other various activities I could do before the microwave stopped, and the numbers always exceeded my expectations.

5. I'm somewhat of a hypochondriac. I've recently started watching House, which is an incredible show, yet now I feel the need to document all of my daily experiences so that if I accidentally touch the garage door and then eat a cookie, thus transferring a deadly bacteria to my innards, the diagnostician will be able to figure out what's wrong with me without having to biopsy my brain first. Really, though, I have a lot of aches and pains that I continuously wonder if they are something more serious. Most likely, they're nothing, but coming from a person who's had shingles, many broken bones, kidney stones, and more, I don't think I'm being that unreasonable.

And now you know the rest of the story.

Coming Attractions

Since it seems perfectly acceptable in Hollywood to make film after film about white teachers "reforming" black students, a.k.a. the plot of the new Hilary Swank movie Freedom Writers and Dangerous Minds before that, Guy and I came up with a few of our own ideas.

At the risk of sounding racist or at least horribly un-p.c., our first movie is called The Bravest Mulatto. It's a heartwarming tale of the students at Lincoln High, where there's lots of racial rivalry. Then the mulatto comes (possibly a mulatto teacher) and feels like he is on both sides. He unites the groups. Then they win the basketball championship. It has all the ingredients of a box-office success.

The sequel is called The Minorities That Could. Same school, different group of students. It goes straight to DVD.

Fame & fortune, here we come!

*Watch for our other feature films involving white ballet dancers falling in love with black hip-hop dancers. Apparently this is another genre, if you can call it that, where there's no shame in making the same movie twice and calling it two different things.