Captain Von Trapp is HOT!

I've been watching "The Sound of Music" once or twice a year every year forever and ever. I don't know what took me so long, but the realization hit me this summer when I watched, and this Christmas viewing has just confirmed it. I know Christopher Plummer is old as dirt, but back in the day he had a Jon Stewart thing going on.

wet sleeves

Bad luck? Inconvenience? Minor annoyance? Trigger for a psychotic break?

I don't know if it is a global human reaction, but, for me, few things rank up there with getting the cuffs of your long-sleeve shirt, jacket, or sweater wet, say, while washing your hands at the sink after using the loo.

You pushed your sleeves up as far as they could go, bent uncomfortably at the knees and the back to try to cheat gravity, and then mid-suds-session, without warning, a cuff springs loose and is getting drenched directly under the stream of water.

Then the cuff is cold, and it gets all stretched out. You keep oddly shaking your arm, extended at your side, as if it were the Liberty Bell, in an attempt to air-motion dry the sleeve. It really can ruin a whole day.

Well, today I had the mother of all sleeve-drenchers.

Tomorrow is trash and recycling day. The collectors start coming around right about 7am. So I usually have a choice: put the cans out Wednesday evening or stumble around at 6:30 Thursday morning to get everything out in time. I usually try to do whatever seems less disruptive to my neighbors, as my cans stay on a concrete pad in my side yard, and our houses are very close together. The depressing thing is, right now, it being winter, it's dark both at 6:30 in the morning and 6:30 in the evening. And that side of my house is pitch black. No moonlight, no streetlight, nothing.

I got home from work at a reasonable time this evening and decided to get the trash & recycling to the curb tonight. I collected everything from the house, carried it to the side yard, reached for the trash can lid - and kapow. Kablooey. Splish-Splash. Whatever sound effect you want to add. See, we've been having rain the past few days, and the temperature dropped significantly today. My trash can lid is depressed on either side of the handle and so it is the perfect rain-collecting device. Except, I couldn't see that in the darkness that was enveloping that corner of the house. So I did as anyone would do with a bag of trash in one hand - I reached for the lid the with the other hand and lifted it off. Straight up. Not sure what degree of angle I was at, but I can tell you this: I was at the perfect angle for all of the water collected in the lid to run up the inside of my coat sleeve. Not to the wrist. Not to the elbow. Half way up the upper arm. On the underside. I was wearing a long-sleeve shirt under my coat, and the shirt sleeve and coat sleeve had absorbed some water on its journey up. So now I had ice-cold fabric against some of the thinnest, sensitive, most tender skin.

Immediately I had to decide who was at fault: the garbage man for the way he placed the lid back after last collection day? My dogwalker for the direction she put the can back on the side of the house? (Yes, my dogwalker brings the cans back up every Thursday when she is here taking care of my dog. Never asked her to. Just does. Part of her services, I guess. And I tip her well.)

Thankfully it wasn't too early or late, because I'm sure my neighbors heard the string of expletives 10 feet away inside their house.

is anyone paying attention?

Has everyone seen this "Open Hearts' commercial for Kay Jewelers?










HAS ANYONE ELSE NOTICED THAT IT LOOKS LIKE TWO BUTT PRINTS??? Where exactly did Jane Seymour get her inspiration? After-hours pranks on the office photocopier?

good movie!

Just saw "Slumdog Millionaire". What a fabulous movie. Could have sat there and watched the whole thing again. (But only if the yahoos next to me were not there -- wifey had to explain every nuance to the husband all the way through, and she felt the need to exclaim out loud obvious facts. I'm v.v. intolerant. I'm working on it, but there are some things that are unforgivable, and screwing with my movie viewing experience is one of them. Yes, I know, then I should stay home and watch on DVD... but there are some movies that must be seen in the theatre.)

I don't see many movies any more that inspire me the way this this one did.

And I mean really, that's what we're all looking for, right, someone to love us despite our scars?

today's elixer

I was in a very bad, foul, angry, bitter mood for the past several hours. Then I got home and this was in my inbox and I watched it and all of my problems have disappeared.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zA1hyqA6UTY

exhaustion abounds

I have been officially chastised for not posting in so long!

And I've been sitting here for the past hour trying to think of something to write.

But all last week I worked 10-, 12-, and 14-hour days and had a $520 car repair.

I am sapped of creativity.

But "Anonymous" could update me on how the new job is!!!

package

Has sitting in your living room, staring out the window to the street, willing the UPS truck to arrive, ever worked for anyone?

Package - update – 2:30pm EDT

I got an email request to provide details as to why I am attempting mind control over the UPS truck. So here goes….Just remember, someone asked.

One day last week I awoke early and checked my email. A little insight which many of you may attempt to analyze and which all of you will have a critical opinion of: It is my nightly routine to take my laptop to bed and do a final check of the news headlines and catch what the Asian markets are doing shortly after opening bell, just before dozing off. (Most nights I still have the wherewithal to close the laptop and place it gently on the floor next to the bed. Other nights can get precarious for said laptop.) So….checking my email first thing in the morning only requires rolling over, fetching laptop from the floor, freeing one arm from the covers, and opening one eye. This particular morning, in my inbox was an advert from an online pet supply company from which I regularly order some of my dog’s vitamins and medicines.

It made me remember that I am almost out of some her vitamins, and a product prominently displayed in the advert caught my eye. It is called the SnuggleSafe Microwave heating pad.

It touts safe warmth for 12 hours


For anyone who doesn’t know, my dog is 16 years old, short-haired and has terrible arthritis. And since I keep my thermostat set at 64 degrees for most of the winter, I lavish her with blankets and a medical-grade eggcrate mattress.

My new house doesn’t get much sunshine on the main living level, so I think this will make me feel less guilty leaving her at 64 degrees all day while I’m at work.

At this point (vitamins and heating pad in virtual shopping cart) I was only $9 away from qualifying for free shipping, so I bought a completely useless toy that my 16 year-old dog will never play with. I really don’t want to talk about this much, especially since two days later I realized I needed to purchase one of her other meds and did so from the same company…… Anyway, it was early and I was barely awake. The online shopping expedition left me exhausted and post-purchase confirmation I rolled over and went back to sleep.

A couple of days later came the email notice that my items had shipped and were due to arrive today, 10.23, via UPS. [A bitter aside: The prescription med that I ordered days later and paid full shipping for (a mere $4.65) arrived just a day after I ordered it.]

Onward…. My dad called me earlier this week freaking out about how much there was to do around the house and he just couldn’t keep up. I immediately decided to go down for a long weekend to help him do some fall cleaning, seeing as it will be my last chance before I start my new job and will only have two-day weekends for the foreseeable future (until Thanksgiving).

I planned on driving down today so I scheduled my dog’s physical therapy swim appointment for midday, since it is between my house and Dad’s, and my haircut for tomorrow, since I found someone decent while I living at Mom and Dad’s house starting back in December. Earlier this week when I scheduled Thes’ appointment for 12 noon, I had high hopes that the UPS package would arrive a day early, as often happens. (I’ve had mail order packages arrive as much as week earlier than anticipated.)

Such was not the case this time. Alas, a 12 noon appointment would have required that I leave my house by 10:15am. So, when, by 9:45 there had been no big brown truck rumblings down my street I called to (and thankfully was able to) reschedule for 2pm. Hence my now hours-long vigil by the front window dreaming of the flash of brown in the distance and the well-known hallowed groaning of the large brown tin box on tires approaching. When, by 12:30 none of this had materialized, I called the vet’s office and rescheduled – for tomorrow at 2pm, post-haircut, now a 45-minute drive each way from Dad's house. I still plan on driving to his house today, upon receipt of UPS package. My vigil at the picture window continues, and my left eye won’t stop twitching.

package - afterthought - 3 pm

Oh, the main reason I don't want to leave for the weekend without the package is because we're expecting heavy rains Saturday and Sunday... and the package would be left exposed on my front porch.

bob with bangs

On Friday I'm getting my first professional haircut in months. (I'm starting on a gig with a four- to five-month contract in two weeks. Not only therefore do I think I deserve it, but I think it's required to make a good impression on a new job, right?) I'm thinking of going for a new look. I Google image searched "bob with bangs". This image came up. I'm thinking of taking it in and seeing what my stylist does.

budget hair

I haven't worked since the first week of March, and so the luxury lifestyle went out the window some time ago. And then some basic creature comforts were sacrificed. And now I'm living on pasta or rice with some butter and salt and pepper and drinking only water (okay, maybe that's exaggerating, but you get the idea.)

My semi-regular salon visit for a haircut is off the books until further notice. As a result, I've taken to cutting my own hair. Well, I hack it to the length I want, then my dad evens / straightens. (He's got all the tools a good military barber needs -- not sure how much experience he has on women's hair, or non-military cuts, but he's got the basics of shape, for sure.)

As I have recently moved back to the east coast, I am once again coming to grips with my curly/wavy hair and I can't say I've got a handle on how it behaves in the humidity. The past week or so I haven't spent much time on it, and most days it ends up looking like Kitty from "That 70s Show". Not feeling so sexy these days. I mean, it's great on that character, but I don't have the retro wardrobe to pull off the look.

new look for spring!

From London Fashion Week for the spring/summer 2009 collection. Wow. Nice fix for a bad hair day.

unfortunate name

I moved into my house less than two months ago, so some of the junk mail and adverts come addressed to previous tenants. One of the surnames is Stoolmiller.

Soooooo unfortunate.

hitchhikers

I would never, ever pick up a hitchhiker, but I'm especially annoyed when I seen one STANDING STILL on the side of the road. It's like, make a little effort, okay? At least start WALKING in the direction you want to go. Show that you have a little self-motivation to arrive at your destination.

Fringe - my review

I wish JJ Abrams had done more to make it different from Lost. He's using the same DP, the same music creator, and some of the same actors, and likely other staff.

As soon as I heard a music cue right out of Lost, I was irritated. Then I didn't hear another one for a while, and I was ok. By the end, I was irritated again -- there were several through out that could have been lifted right from Lost.

The overhead shot of the chase scene at the storage unit right after we saw a bunch of lab rats in cages -- too much. Overkill.

The untraditional lower thirds -- the location indicators. I'm undecided. I like that they're different, but don't know if I like them, all big and everything.

The first time anyone visited John in the hospital room they were fully decked out head-to-toe in protective, anti-infective gear. But no one really talked to each other. Conveniently, when Olivia went in with Dr Bishop and his son, and they were all talkey-talkey, no one had head gear on, even though John was in worse condition.

For a room that was being used as storage, it sure became a fully functional lab pretty fast.

Joshua Jackson has matured quite nicely. Hotly, really. I used to see him at Rockreation, the rock climbing gym in LA. But he was much heavier back then. He's got a Liev Schreiber thang going on, minus the smarminess.

Ugh. Nothing worse than a character who amounts to no more than a device -- Olivia's assistant. She was almost an afterthought. She was only there so Dr Bishop had someone to talk to while Olivia was in the tank.

When the FBI went to the bad guy's apartment, Olivia was wearing a gas mask / ventilator. She comes running out to chase him, not wearing it. When did she take it off? She was just standing in his basement laboratory. Would she really have taken it off in there, not knowing if he had set up an infectious release?

John was brought into the lab in a protective bubble. Yet he's lying on his hospital bed, in this dirty 100 year-old basement, translucent skin and all.

Another music note - after John died I totally heard in my head the song "Love Hurts" originally recorded by the Everly Brothers, but more like the Joan Jett or Heart version.

Will I watch again? Definitely.

Be still my heart!

If I entered the convent the only people to come looking for me would be my creditors.

Man holds vigil for girlfriend-turned-nun

An Italian man whose girlfriend left him to become a nun is holding a vigil outside the convent where she is staying in a bid to get her to reconsider.

From Nick Pisa in Rome
Last Updated: 10:45PM BST 04 Sep 2008

Heartbroken Daniel Briatore, 21, has vowed to remain camped outside the convent in a bid to win back the love of his life Patrizia Masoero, also 21, after she dumped him a month ago to take religious vows.

He travelled the 300 miles from their hometown of Alassio on the Italian Riviera to the Franciscan convent at Montecassino Abbey, south of Rome.

When Patrizia refused to see him he put up a banner on the convent walls reading:"I didn't want to take you away, just talk to you, because I love you".

The nuns immediately took the banner down but Daniel has said he will do "whatever it takes" to get her back, boosted by local villagers who are all said to be backing him.

Last night Italian media reports said the two had known each other since they were teenagers and had been together for several years until Patrizia told her family she was leaving Daniel to become a nun.

A nun who answered the telephone at the convent said:"Our sister has chosen the path she wants, there is no point in him staying here.

"At the moment she isn't even here, she is in Rome on a pilgrimage with her fellow sisters and is due back here at the convent this weekend - we just want all this attention to go away.

"We took the banner down but now the whole place is swarming with TV crews and photographers when I tried to leave the convent it was impossible because i had microphones and cameras pushed into me."

In his entry on the Italian social network site Netlog Daniel calls himself "Braveheart 86" and describes himself as a "heterosexual lifeguard who enjoys football."

It's been a few days since I've posted, because most of my computer time has been spent raging to friends via email about the current political environment with regards to the race to the White House. I wanted to keep politics out of this, my creative space, so one of my genius friends started a separate blog entirely for all of us.

http://roadtothewhitehousesupportgroup.blogspot.com/

Please check it out and feel free to comment. Maybe now that I have that space to vent the venom, I'll be able to return my creative energy to here.

Oops

On Nightline just now host Terry Moran referred to Obama as "the son of a black man from Kenya and a white man from Kansas... that is a moment for the history books." Now that would be a moment for the history books.

scrap metal thefts

Every day there are stories of stolen metal: bleachers from a school, piping from construction sites, etc. With the price of metals right now, these items are are extremely valuable when cashed in at a scrap metal yard. If this business is so lucrative, why can't they regulate it to eliminate / cut down on the criminal nature of it? In some states when an individual sells something at a pawn shop, they have to provide a fingerprint and valid ID / driver's license. Then they keep a logbook of what that person has sold to the pawn shop, so that if it turns up as stolen goods they can track it back.

Is it too much of a stretch to impose the same regulation procedures on the scrap metal business?

misdirected email

In the chuckle-worthy category today I got an email from the former tenant of my current house. (Most of my contact prior to moving in was with him as opposed to the owners, because he and his wife were trying to get out of their lease in order to buy a house elsewhere, so the responsibility was on them to find a new tenant...)

Today he forwarded me the confirmation email from Sam's Club for his purchase of a new bed.

The apology email came through at the same time, so he was aware of his blunder, but offered no explanation. So I felt need to spend two minutes thinking about it. It didn't take long for me to remember his wife's first name starts with the same few letters as mine. I, too, have been bit in the arse by the autofill option in the "to" field. Never resulting serious personal or professional detriment, just requiring a little explanation to the unintended recipients.

Anyone ever have a truly blush-worthy misdirected email, or one which tarnished your professional standing?

how very helpful

Yesterday I bought a Michael's brand photo frame -- a large collage-style one that holds eight photographs. On the back of the box is a to-scale image of the frame, including the hanger hardware. You can use that to mark the wall where you want the mounting screws to go. How unexpectedly helpful, especially for a store-brand.

What's in a name?

I don't ever buy wine based on the name or label. I did tonight. Couldn't resist.













I picked up the chardonnay. $10/bottle. It's good! Sweeter than I usually like, but with the right meal....

evidence...

...or how I came to be a suspect in a B & E case --
I was seeing a bereavement counselor after my Mom died in April. First visit I took a water bottle in with me. One of the nice, stainless steel ones. After the appointment I was in my car, driving away from the office. I realized I left the water bottle behind. It was rush hour and I would have had to negotiate a couple of tricky intersections to get back there. I thought to myself "Oh, nothing will happen to it. I'll just get it next week."

A week later, we got to chatting right away, but finally towards the end of the hour I started glancing around the office, wondering where she would have put it. At a natural break in the conversation, I asked if she had it. She laughed uncontrollably for a full minute, then said "Oh, that was yours?"

The counselor had other patients after me that afternoon, and she wasn't sure whose it was. So she put it in the waiting room, in case the owner came looking for it. Then one evening that week the office had a break-in. My counselor wasn't present for the police officer's arrival, questioning, and statement-taking, so when no one knew where/when the water bottle showed up, it was taken as evidence! Cue CSI montage of DNA swabs and fingerprinting. (I always FF through them.)

A couple of phone calls and some official paperwork (and strange looks from everyone in the county police station "What's so great about this water bottle." It IS fabulous, and it cost like $20) I got it back.

"Oh, nothing will happen to it. I'll just get it next week."