I'm not aware of too many things.

Kelly and the Cone of Death

2009-09-15T14:00:00.000-07:00

Kelly's been chewing on his tail recently, so we've had to resort to desperate measures. Desperate times call for desperate measures:

Whatever your politics, you've gotta admit Al Franken rocks.

2009-09-09T12:56:00.000-07:00

Here's why Al Franken rocks like Freddie Mercury:

(Courtesy of pajiba.com.)

He's good enough, he's smart enough, and doggone it, people (like me) like him!

Some easy listening for your enjoyment and some updates.

2009-09-04T23:30:00.001-07:00

It's been nearly four months since my last post, and that one was about dying. Whatta downer. Somewhat pathetically, I'm breaking my blogging abstinence with a little easy listening for your (read: Blair's) enjoyment:

Who knew Bruce Willis would have such a soft, pleasant-sounding voice? I've had a crush on the Bald One for as long as I can remember. I'm probably one of ten people alive who loved loved LOVED The Fifth Element and will watch it whenever it's on TV. Now that I've heard him sing, I find him that much more attractive. The stretch from the time he starts singing around 43 seconds to 75 seconds is my favorite part. All that said, I don't think the Temptations should ever have to play second fiddle to anyone.

Somewhat brief updates:

• We're finishing up the finalizing process on our mortgage. We just got our home owner's insurance and locked in our rate (5.25!), and now all that's left to do is everything else. (i.e., buy the flooring, buy the washer and dryer, buy a TV stand, buy our fake grass because real grass will die, buy our wood with which to build our pergola, etc. That's a whole lotta buyin' with very little moneh.)

• I had catalogued my entire book collection using software I purchased online, but lost the library's contents when Pete cleaned off my computer in an attempt to make it faster. I'm very sad at the thought of having to do all that work again. (Note: It was my fault my library was lost, not Pete's. Makes it all the worse because I only have myself to blame. Dammit.)

• These are some the books I'm reading for my classes this fall:

Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris - Very excited about this one, particularly if the vampire sex is as hot in the book as it is on HBO.

Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons- Just finished reading it. It was my first time reading a graphic novel, and I didn't really like experience. The story was okay, but nothing to write home to mom about. Sorry to all the fanboys and girls out there.

Hyperion by Dan Simmons - Don't know much about this one, but Simmons' The Terror was freaking fantastic, so my hopes are high.

Timescape by Gregory Benford- Don't know much about this one, either. I do like science fiction, though, to a degree. (This book, Hyperion, and Watchmen are all for a sci-fi lit course I'm taking.)

Thelma and Louise by Marita Sturken- Was not aware this was a book first. I imagine we'll probably be watching the movie as well. Anytime I get to see Brad Pitt shirtless is a good time in my book.

Also reading Emma and Sense and Sensibility (among others) for a Jane Austen course. Austen has gotten short shrift from me, unintentionally, so this class will be good for catching up on required classic literature that I've yet to read.

That's pretty much it. The dogs are still inexplicably shedding (at what point do they just run out of fur?), Pete's business is doing well, and we're refinishing two antique Ethan Allen night stands we got a few weeks ago from a thrift store in Santee for $15 a piece. Will post before and after pics soon. (Soon meaning less than four months from now, surely. Don't count on it, though.)

Roger Ebert on Death

2009-05-10T21:29:00.001-07:00

Lately, in the past year or so with the passing of my father-in-law Daniel, I've been struck with very still moments of clarity/confusion. I'll be reading something for a class under the stairs in the library or lying in bed with Pete's arm wrapped around my body or running on a long dirt trail somewhere, and I'll have an overwhelming sense that nothing around me feels real. The library is warm, Pete's arm is heavy, the dirt is soft, but I don't know what any of that means.

I think about my dad and what it would be like to never see him rolling his eyes at one of Sherrill's stories again.

I think about my mom and what it would be like to never watch her brush the cat again. She's very diligent, you know.

They're small things that almost feel realest, but intangible, unimaginable. I can see and hear my parents so clearly in my mind, and now I can't.

I think about Syd--and he's such a great little dude, really--and feel SO SAD that he's so old. I'm glad that Pete and I could make his life so much better with the short time that we've had with him. He yawns at me and squeaks and it 's nice. It feels real for right now.

I rub my thumb and my forefinger together in small, careful circles, and wonder about that.

I have tiny stops in time where I'm overcome with the idea that one day, I'll exist as much as I did before I was born, and what does that mean, and how should I feel, what should I think? I cry because I don't want to stop being me. And I cry because I don't want Pete to stop being Pete.

Check out Roger Ebert's blog, particularly his posts on evolution, his childhood dog (I know, I know), and God. That's some good shit there. He doesn't believe in God, and neither do I, but he has some incredibly insightful things to say, and it helps just a little bit, for a little while.

Happy Birthday, Gloria

2009-03-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

Gloria Steinem turned 75 today. A few great quotes:

"A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle."

"America is an enormous frosted cupcake in the middle of millions of starving people."
"A liberated woman is one who has sex before marriage and a job after."
"It is more rewarding to watch money change the world than watch it accumulate."
"Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry."
"The authority of any governing institution must stop at its citizen's skin."
"The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn."

Happy belated birthday, Darwin!

2009-02-16T18:44:00.000-08:00

Oh, my brother, you know I'm a fan. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for very many of my fellow citizens:

The handy man can

2009-02-11T11:00:00.000-08:00

More than likely, I will not get three responses to this, but I say, why not? I have nothing better to do with my time than to hand make some bracelets, or somethin'. :)

Pay it Forward
The Rules:
1. Be one of the first three bloggers to leave a comment on this post, which then entitles you to a handmade item from me.
2. Winners, you must post this challenge on your blog, meaning that you will Pay It Forward, creating a handmade gift for the first 3 bloggers who leave a comment on YOUR post about this giveaway!
3. The gift that you send to your three friends can be from any price range and you have 365 days to make/ship your item. This means you should be willing to maintain your blog at least until you receive your gift and have shipped your gifts.
4. When you receive your gift, please feel free to blog about it, sharing appropriate link love!

Thanks, Ashley. :)

Letters to Obama

2009-01-23T21:23:00.000-08:00

I have a general dislike for kids of all ages, but these letters (and drawings) to President Obama are fun to make fun of... and I suppose they're kinda cute:

Jayne, I like the way you think:

This one stinks of Nixon to me:

Has anyone seen Obama wearing glasses? And what the heck is he smirking at? In fact, he doesn't look happy here; he looks mischievous, in the way creepy men at the park look mischievous:

Drawing something like this is all it takes to get into the NY Times? Connie, take note:

Okay, this one looks like Wes Borland from Limp Bizkit:

See?

This next letter rocks! I especially enjoy the note about the hand sanitizer... such attention to detail!

Dear President Obama,

Here is a list of the first 10 things you should do as president:

1. Fly to the White House in a helicopter.
2. Walk in.
3. Wipe feet.
4. Walk to the Oval Office.
5. Sit down in a chair.
6. Put hand-sanitizer on hands.
7. Enjoy moment.
8. Get up.
9. Get in car.
10. Go to the dog pound.

— Chandler Browne, age 12, Chicago

Google sightseeing

2009-01-18T07:59:00.000-08:00

Just some cool Google Sightseeing images.

Dinosaurs!

The Cabazon dinosaurs:

The Blythe Intaglios:

This next one's for Pete:

The Tower Bridge in London:

A volcano off the coast of Mexico:

Stonehenge:

The Arecibo Satellite in Puerto Rico (it was in the movie Contact):

I know, another video...

2009-01-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

The truth of the matter is that I simply I have nothing of interest to say. Life is life, and I'm having fun living it. School is great this quarter, since I quit my god-awful job at the theater, the dogs don't poop on the carpet (generally), and neither does Pete. So there's that.

Anyway, here ya go. It's completely PG, and I'm sure you'll be much in love with Tara and Bella after watching it.

We're Animaniacs!

2008-12-06T12:30:00.000-08:00

I know this blog has just become a YouTube clip extravaganza, but I can't help myself. (Intervention, please!) Hello. My name is Jennifer, and I am an addict. Seriously, y'all: I'm able to find a pure sort of joy in just two minutes on YouTube, and if I can share that with the two of you who frequent this, then I am a success. Anyway, Animaniacs! (Anyone else remember watching this clip in a junior high social studies class?)

(Clearly, it's dated--no Uzbekistan!)

And here's another, just for Pete, while we're at it:

It incorporates all the things you're not good at?!

2008-11-24T11:15:00.000-08:00

Dude, it's WALKING. With STYLE.

Bwahahahahahahaha!

"It's amazing. You look like a normal person but actually you are the angel of death." -Sally

2008-11-16T10:35:00.000-08:00

They remind me of the old couch couples in When Harry Met Sally. *le sigh*

Harry Burns: Repeat after me. Pepper.
Sally Albright: Pepper.
Harry Burns: Pepper.
Sally Albright: Pepper.
Harry Burns: Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash.
Sally Albright: Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash.
Harry Burns: But I would be proud to partake of your pecan pieeeeee.

Movin' on up

2008-09-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

My not-so-baby sisters Sherrill and Julie just signed a 12-month lease on their first apartment in Blythe. It'll cost them a wallet-busting $550 a month, and though they don't allow pets, Sherrill managed to finagle a doctor's note from her gynecologist stating unequivocally that her dog, Sugar, is vital to Sherrill's mental and physical health. Isn't that freaking awesome? I chuckle crazily to myself every time I imagine the harried conversations that took place between Sherrill and her doctor, and between Sherrill and the leasing agent. This, my friends, is one of those things that makes the good life oh-so-delectably good.

I heart Sarah Haskins

2008-09-05T12:20:00.001-07:00

I shit you not, Sarah Palin is not a feminist.

2008-08-29T14:46:00.000-07:00

John McCain, Sarah Palin, and the Republican party think that women are stupid. When Palin says, "Hillary left 18 million cracks in the highest, hardest glass ceiling in America. But it turns out the women of America aren't finished yet, and we can shatter that glass ceiling once and for all," she makes me want to vomit all over everything she and her fellow ideologues stand for: legislation that is overwhelmingly anti-gay, anti-choice, and anti-environment. Palin, you are no Hillary Clinton, and you are no friend of the feminist community.

Feministing sums it up far better than I'm able. Check it out here. It all makes me physically sick and profoundly sad.

It's a nice day for a white wedding...

2008-08-12T17:58:00.000-07:00

Yay to Mande's wedding. Here are some pictures for all the two of you that read this.

The Sydster

2008-07-17T12:49:00.000-07:00

This video was taken just a week or so after Syd's ear surgery last March. He has this strange--and ultimately beautiful--way of playing in which he doesn't really do anything, other than run around in circles and bark. And bark. And bark. And breathe heavily.

At 42sec, he stops barking, stops spinning, stares at us for a short pause, pulls back a little, and spins. This is what Syd does. This is who Syd is, and who we missed so greatly when he was sick for so long.

My favorite part of the video--the part that I watch over and over and over again to the very edge of insanity, which in turn leaves echoes of Syd's barking in my head for hours--is at the 1:05 mark. Just prior to that, Pete catches hold of the blur that is Syd (because, you know, he moves SO FAST), and I move in for a close-up with the camera. You can hear Syd huffing and puffing, acting tough, and then that immediate pregnant pause in which you can see so clearly what Syd is thinking: At that moment, he sees me as paparazzi--a nuisance, basically--and, much like celebrities who attack the photogs, Syd loses it. He's smiling, grunting loudly up at Pete, showing that he's pleased that Pete's scratching his butt, and I step in with the camera, which is SIMPLY INEXCUSABLE.

Can I just say that I love Jared Leto?

2008-07-07T18:31:00.000-07:00

Jared Leto. Sigh. Jared Leto's hair (both head and facial). Sigh.

Of course, my first exposure to him was in the sub-par (but much loved by moi) Prefontaine, in which he played the titular character. There aren't too many high school runners out there who won't admit to wanting to bear his children, young women and men alike. I mean, really--who wouldn't want to kiss a mouth surrounded by this mustache? Who wouldn't want to LOSE THEMSELVES IN THIS MUSTACHE?

And then, it was Fight Club. Violent, loud, dumb at times, but genius, too. So so so so genius. And who steals the movie? Who steals the movie from Brad Pitt and Edward Norton with JUST THE VERY FREAKING PRESENCE OF HIS HAIR?

That's right, oh yes, Jared Leto. Jaaaaaarrrreeehd Leeeeeeetoooooooooooh. Look at that crazy-ass stance he has there. He's like a rabid and feral ferret or something. (A hot rabid and feral ferret, if you can believe it.)

And even though I hate Girl, Interrupted with a burning passion that I simply cannot contain in a semi-short blog post, Jared Leto once again owns the movie, scraggliness and all:

And even though I really wasn't a fan of Jodie Foster's lame Panic Room, who doesn't love Leto's cornrows? Forest Whitaker is thinking, If only I had cornrows. IF ONLY. Dude, now I want cornrows.

And playing Colin Farrell's male companion in Alexander? Still hot. Hello, lover.

I would, however, be remiss if I didn't include a picture of his most current role as Mark David Chapman, murderer of John Lennon (and the tender love of pretty much every freaking person on the planet). Even as a hefty lil' turd, my heart still melts just a little for him.

And I scream just a little, too, but worry not; it is as the smoldering, distant, and unattainable Jordan Catalano in the so-painfully-good-it-hurts My So-Called Life that I place him on my Top 5 list, along with Paul Giamatti, Clive Owen, Daniel Craig, and Eric Bana.

Just look at that embodiment-of-the-'90s plaid button-down. LOOK. AT. IT. Remember when Angela Chase becomes fixated on a little frayed part at the edge of the collar of this shirt and you feel nothing but sadness and love for him? And oh! The choker! And THE HAIR.

I have the urge to softly brush that little swatch of hair out of his eyes.

Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box

2008-07-02T22:57:00.000-07:00

I've always wanted to try a real coconut. Not Almond Joy coconut, but Survivor coconut. Delicious, delightful, delectable coconut. So tonight, while at Vons, Pete and I bought one and brought it home. I even studiously read the sticker on "Melissa's Quick Crack Coconut" to avoid any mishandling of my perfect coconut. It read:

Fresh coconut is delicious to eat out of hand, as well as in sweet and savory dishes. Shredded coconut is great over fruit salad, desserts, and cereal. To crack open, puncture the closest eye (WHAT?!) with a dull knife, drain the liquid. (I totally didn't.) With a kitchen mallet or hammer, whack the coconut into the eye. Enjoy the delicious coconut.

It said that with unashamed, simple joy. Enjoy the delicious coconut. As though I should expect nothing less than perfection from my coconut.

I used a knife to twist a hole into "the eye" (there were three or four), and as I did so, a crazy unexpected burst of air released, which was a little frightening, actually. I should have questioned that burst of air; what kind of evil fruit RELEASES A PUTRID EXPLOSION OF AIR when you peel/cut/cleaver it? Despite the foreboding nature of that event, I nevertheless took an excited sip OF THE MOST VILE-TASTING DISGUSTINGNESS IMAGINABLE.

And yet, my spirits were still not dampened. Onward, brave coconut soldiers! Pete and I, disappointingly, do not have the pleasure of owning a kitchen mallet or a hammer, so Pete used a meat cleaver (now named Instrument of Destruction) to bash it open. And I do mean BASH BASH BASH BASH. Please note: I do not recommend this method, as coconut shrapnel flew at me, and it was not pleasant having the vile putridness of coconut juice ON MY ARM.

And even then, dripping with coconut juice, I still had hopes for the coconut. High hopes of sweet, sweet, heavenly, scrumdiddlyumptious coconut.

But no. It was not to be. The teeny tiny bit that I had tasted EXACTLY LIKE THE OFFENSIVE MILK. Exactly. Even now, removed from the horror, I lapse into involuntary convulsions.

In the future, I swear to never, ever, ever, ever question why the contestants on Survivor complain about not having food and that they're starving when they have plenty of coconuts. Hoards of coconuts. Stockpiles of coconuts. I get it now. I've been enlightened.

Later, Pete built a fort:

These are the things we do for fun on Wednesday nights.