Archive for October, 2007

He: There’s just too much to do and not enough hours to do it all.

She: Well, I can do SOME things.

He: Are you going to spackle and paint the bedroom wall?

She: I would but I’m not allowed to paint.

He: And with good reason.

She: That’s like one of the main rules of our marriage.  We don’t have sex with other people and I don’t paint.

He: Exactly. And not necessarily in that order.   People can’t SEE the scars from infidelity.

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(I couldn’t figure out which title to give this…so now we have two.)

This is an odd entry to make. In fact, this is about my ninth draft. The first two involved me talking about Penelope Trunk’s bikini ad space in a less than flattering way. The third and fourth were weepy. The rest were just a mess.

Speaking of messes…

I’m not a Penelope Trunk fan. I’ll say that right up front. I consider her to be a narrow-minded opportunist who doesn’t account for differing personalities and the vagaries of situations. Everything I’ve ever read or heard from her seems predicated upon the notion that her experiences are the only valid ones and her diagnosis of situations are therefore the Righteous Truth. It strikes me as odd simply because it’s the point of view one most frequently encounters in children younger than six. Yet she’s been able to parlay her bizarre sense of object impermenence into a series of paid speaking and writing gigs.

It is her recent writing gig which has caused me to throw my hands up in the air, roll over and expose my soft underbelly to the jackal that is her attitude.

Let’s take a look, shall we?

Being overweight or sloppily dressed is worse for your career than being a poor performer.

I’m not saying this is fair, I’m saying it’s true. So manage your weight, and manage the image you project at work, and you’ll do wonders for your career.

Any article which starts off with “discrimination exists–so suck it up and play along!” is really not going to warm my heart. But I can understand it as a valid approach. I know several people from discriminated classes and many times they do just go along to get along because it’s easier. If you’ve already got home drama and family drama and money drama there’s no need to add to the dramapile by telling your boss that you’re gay or by wearing a dashiki to work. I get it. To a point.

But then there’s this.

Before you get up in arms over how unfair it is to discriminate against people who are overweight, consider that there may be some rationale behind it. If you’re overweight, you’re probably not exercising every day.

Bwahahaha! “If you’re black, you’re probably eating fried chicken every day and have babies by five different daddies who are all in jail!”

And the same self-discipline we use to make ourselves exercise regularly and eat in moderation carries over into other aspects of our lives. This is probably why, in a study from Leeds Metropolitan University, people who exercise regularly were found to be better at time-management and more productive than those who don’t.

Because no fat people ever exercise regularly or eat in moderation. We’re all laying around and eating gallons of ice cream while picking lint out of our increasingly hard-to-find navels.

I just don’t even know that I can continue fisking this article, to be quite honest with you. It’s full of generalisations, misinterpretations of scientific studies and warped statements bent into the peculiar pretzel shape required to wrap around Trunk’s twisted worldview.

See what I mean:

So don’t be overweight and don’t dress carelessly. These are just as detrimental to your career as doing your work poorly. And if my bringing this up makes you angry, consider being more forgiving, because anger is a risk factor for obesity. Besides, forgiveness makes people more resilient to difficulties because it’s about seeing the world in a positive light — which is, of course, also good for your image.

What do you say to that? There’s nothing to say. Except what I started my earlier drafts with, and that is that Penelope Trunk is a master provacateur. Her entire careeer is built out of marketing herself in any way possible–whether that means selling ads on her bikini, billing herself as a “career expert” or parlaying prejudice into some sick form of abusive advice. Penelope Trunk isn’t interested in helping anyone other than Penelope Trunk.

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In the course of this conversation we have determined that there is not a good collective noun for lawyers.

I love collective nouns. I love a couple of lawyers and three potential lawyers. We need a good noun which describes them.

Wikipedia has a few suggestions; of the ones they’ve got listed I lean toward “disputation”. Although given my family, perhaps we ought to just call it a B—–[my maiden name] of Lawyers.

Libertarians don’t have a collective noun either. I suppose that’s because collectivism runs counter to the spirit of our movement. Maybe we should just settle on “an Irony of libertarians” and be done with it.

I think I would also propose “farrago” as the collective noun for Wikipedia entries, while we’re on the topic.

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I know many of you are planning on drowning your sorrows in various forms of liquid fermentation.

I will be partaking of solid fermentation.

If you are looking for me this weekend I can be found at home on the couch eating a variety of exotic cheeses and having a Star Trek Evens And Three marathon.

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Have I Lost My Mind?

I just got an email from Amazon which said

As someone who has purchased or rated books by Richard Matheson, you might like to know that I Am Legend will be released on October 30, 2007. You can pre-order yours by following the link below.

Only problem is, I don’t think I’ve EVER purchased OR rated a book by Richard Matheson on Amazon.

Now I have to spend the next 10 minutes figuring out what Richard Matheson book I have spent time and/or money on at Amazon.


Ah. A Stir Of Echoes. Man, that was a long time ago.

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We pulled into the driveway last night, returning home glowing with triumph. We have a new microwave! Hey, folks, I’m Mennonite–not Amish. I need me some speedy cooking. At last Jimmy Dean Breakfast Sandwiches can return to my life. (Yes, you CAN bake them, but a breakfast sandwich splorched out of a plastic pouch just screams “Nuke Me” and shouldn’t require 350º for 25-30 minutes. In that time I could drive to McDonalds and back. )

As we pulled our glowing selves in our glowing car with our glowing new microwave into the garage, I spied a bag on the front porch. I was so excited about the idea of a package on our stoop that I… forgot about it until this morning. Hey. New appliance trumps Mystery Bag On Porch in my book.

Anyway, I suddenly remembered the bag on the porch–right around the time I started craving a Fun-Size Snickers. My church used to leave us bags at “harvest” time–how convenient it is for us that Harvest falls right around Halloween*–and I was hoping maybe this was what the bag was and I would have a much needed hit of nougat. Alas, there was no candy in the bag. (We’ll come back to that in a minute.)

What there was was Controversy.

I’ll be honest. I’m a Gemini. And while I don’t really believe in Astrology, I do like to blame it for my worst traits. In this case my twin nature cannot make up her mind about how to feel about the arrival of this particular Boo Bag on my doorstep.

I’m a, er, um, mixed bag of emotions you might say.

Castor–The HardNosed Twin

Who leaves a Halloween bag with absolutely no frakkin’ candy in it?!? What is the everlovin’ point? Oh, and excuse me, but this is a chain letter. Anything that gives me “24 hours to act upon this note” before a “big ZAP comes!” is a chain letter. I don’t care if it rhymes.

And I’m sorry, but if you want me to make two copies of this chain letter to stick in my Boo Bags that I hand out to neighbours, make sure it’s grammatically correct. There is no way on God’s earth I’m photocopying and distributing something that says “The Boo’s are coming” and keeps operating under the assumption that [‘s] is the proper way to pluralise the words “boo” and “bag”. Also, if you are promising your neighbours a bag of Boos, I think they might be not out of line to expect some Ketel One or Tanqueray instead of a chain letter and a note pad.

And again I say “would some candy have killed ya?” Because as cute as my Scary Goblet is, I rarely crave Scary Goblets at 11:30 am.

Pollux–the HappyGoLucky Twin

Isn’t that sweet? It’s a really cute idea, and I love the fact that it’s an inexpensive way to get your neighbourhood into the Halloween spirit. It was unexpected and cute and I love that. And I collect ghost things, so the little picture is perfect. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go to the dollar store and get some stuff to make my own Boo Bag.

I’m torn. I’d really love to perpetuate the tradition, etc., but the whole chain letter thing has turned me off big-time. I thought when I quit working with J——- S——– I had finally cut those “Pass two Luuuuvie Hugs and Smiles and rainbows to someone” chain emails out of my life forever. And here they are haunting me on my porch.

Also, in talking to my sister the Kindergarten teacher she tells me these Boo Bags are a pretty growing tradition back home but they pose a problem because religious non-Halloween celebrators get up in arms about being “forced” to observe the holiday.

Man. All this thinkin’. And for no candy.

*Am I the only one amused at all of the various religious places that have Harvest Festivals in lieu of celebrating Halloween? I mean, from the perspective of a person who has spent the majority of her life in comparative religious study I think I can safely say that Harvest Celebrations have just as much of a pagan root as Halloween–perhaps more so. It’s sort of like saying “I won’t celebrate Blessed Virgin Day, but I’ll celebrate Beltaine.”

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  1. How long should it take to get blood test results back?  We’re going on a week now, and I’ve heard nothing.
  2. Why does my dog think that I have the power to stop the wind?  I don’t.  If I did have the power to stop wind I would probably exercise it on his butt before I turned my attention to the outdoors.
  3. Why don’t they make shows like “The Waltons” anymore?  I think my dream is to write a Waltons-type show revolving around my family.   Except my dad would have to be more like Atticus Finch, since he was a lawyer and not a farmer.  Although unlike Atticus Finch my dad has only one working eye, and therefore couldn’t shoot a rabid dog in the street.
  4. I wish we’d start sending astronauts to Mars.  Why don’t we do that?  Or Jupiter.  That’d be cool, too.
  5. I’ve started watching “House” again this season because Roger Abramson seems to like it.  Well, and because Kal Penn is in it now, and I love Kal Penn.  (Kumar of “Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle”–the best not-Lebowski Lebowskish movie in the world.)   But more because of Roger than Kal.  And I’ve been catching up on old episodes this week.  Last night I watched an episode where a dog is killed.  A dog that looked like a cross between my two dogs.   Is dog murdering going to be a regular fixture on this show?  Because I can’t take that.  I had to stop watching Nip/Tuck after that whole thing with Laura Ingalls having sex with her pit bull and then her husband coming home from Iraq and killing the pit bull.   Oh, and frankly, I don’t care how much of a genius  House is, I would never have him treat me for my medical problems.  These people show up with some problem like “fainting” or “dizzy” or “can’t move their fingers” and next thing you know they’re invariably bleeding out their anus because of the various “cures” House gives them.  Thank you, but no.  If that’s your idea of Medical Treatment, I’ll just take Advil and die at home in peace.

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Meat Loaf’s Bat Out Of Hell can cure anything.  Anything.  For at least 8.5 minutes.

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Dogs In Danger

Because I can’t drink alcohol, if I ever want to depress myself into a general state of Ihatethisplanetness I look up shelter dogs.

My husband’s favourite book as a child was Hotel For Dogs, and one of my secret life ambitions was to move to my grandparents’ farm in Kewanna and take in stray cats and dogs. As far as dreams go it’s not going to the moon or anything, but I liked the idea of giving some home to the hopeless. We currently have two dogs of our own, both of which we bought as purebreeds from reputable breeders. (Although I’m a little bit more iffy about the breeder we bought our Eskie from. They also raised gamecocks. When we went to see Quinn we had to traipse past hundreds (literally) of game-cock houses. )

I toy often with getting a third dog from a shelter, although my first priority will always be the two dogs I have now. We made a committment to them and I don’t think it’d be fair to displace either of them for a shelter dog.

Nevertheless I had to spend some time browsing the Dogs In Danger website to see if there were any dogs I could spare houseroom for.

I will now go on record as saying two things:
1. People can be incredibly stupid.
2. There are many dogs which are cute puppies but not-so-cute fullgrown dogs.

It is important to know that these two facts go hand in hand. Of the 9 dogs currently In Danger in a 100mile radius from my house, 8 of them are of the Cute Pup/Scary Dog variety. We’re talking German Shepherds, Dobermans, Weimarauners, Blue Heelers, Australian Shepherd Varieties.

All of these dogs require a lot of socialisation and attention to make them fully integrated into their pack. Why is it so easy for me to envision families taking home a cute, big eyed little puppy only to be shocked–Shocked! I tell you–that the dog they left outside all the time is now snapping at Madison and Cody?

There are 9 dogs scheduled to be killed. I can’t take any of them because they all say “Must be only dog”. That’s another big clue right there. If the dog “must be the only dog” that means it’s not socialised around other animals. My committment to the two dogs I’ve already adopted precludes my rescuing them.

That makes me really sad.

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Some Spoilers, Maybe

  • I cannot believe that the Sylar dude is going to play Spock. I have not warmed to that idea yet. Especially after tonight’s episode.
  • Whew. No Eirinn Go Blah tonight.
  • Why does Parkman’s dad look like Willard Scott? I mean, really. Here’s this guy whose supposed to have been this major nightmare threat to Slarti’s Son’s School Chum, and he more closely resembles a jovial middle school custodian than a skulking terror overlord.
  • Please give Adrian Pasdar his beard back. I mean the one on his face–not Natalie Dixie Chick.
  • “Claire, I know you can heal. But I never want to see you in pain.” Girl, just dump his emo self NOW. Do not wait. Guys who talk like that are either scripted by some evil megacorporation or spent their elementary school years setting kittens on fire. That kind of open schmoopiness is sociopathic. It sounds so right it’s fake.
  • I wonder what skills the TV Skill Absorption Hero girl would be able to do after watching like 50 Watson’s commercials in a row.
  • I also wonder if it’s intentional that she shares Eye Power Noises with The Bore-onic Woman. It’s as though the NBC Sci Fi budget has to share.
  • The History Channel is running this mega cool documentary on The History of the Superhero in Comics. I liked it so much I’ve watched it twice already. I guess it originally aired in 2003. I wish I’d thought of a History Channel. Over there the reruns are even MORE thematic. “To you, it’s a repeat. To us, it’s History!”

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