free-range rude

Rude people suck.

****

Remember:
"Good manners are always in good taste."

ALWAYS respect your waiter

OMG. Have you seen the trailer for Waiting... ? It may just make you think twice before dining out next time. Eeek.

My son (who is a waiter) has told me stories like this before, but I've always hoped that he was just trying to torment me. For example: he has warned me not to order water "with lemon" as my beverage of choice (which he says 90% of *females* now do). Since water is free, not only is the waiter not getting tipped for filling and refilling the glass (at least not based on the price of the check), but if he is unlucky enough to take the last piece of lemon, he gets the unfortunate job of cutting up a whole new batch. He says waiters don't like that. So now I'm paranoid... I'll order water, but I never say "with lemon". If they bring me lemon, I consider it a bonus. (And I generally tip at least 20%, which hopefully makes up for the water.)

He's told me a few more, but I have to believe that he's joking. (And of course he would never do such a thing...) ;-)

[EDIT: This reminds me... When dining out with relatives who embarrass you by terrorizing the wait staff (you know who I'm talkin' about), never order the same thing they're having...lest you accidentally receive a meal with a little something extra that was not intended for you.]

this looks like fun, doesn't it?

Well, let me tell you, it wasn't. 101 degrees and not a hint of shade anywhere. Before the half, one by one the girls started coming off the field in tears, seriously questioning WHY in the world they ever thought it would be fun to be a cheerleader (my daughter included). Which had me asking (myself) the question, "Why the hell did you get ME into this?!" Oh, the joys of being a first-time cheerleading liaison. During the game, I was informed by one of my favorite parents that there had been an "incident" with the Mom-from-Hell (MFH) during Thursday's carpool. It seems that on the drive home, the MFH warned her little 10 and 11-year old passengers to "hang on to the 'oh-shit' handles girls...we're taking a tight curve!" along with several other profanities. She then proceeded to turn up the radio really loud while playing 50 Cent's Candy Shop, which I have not heard of until now, but I will share with you some of the lyrics:

"If you be a nympho, I'll be a nympho
In the hotel or in the back of the rental
On the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into
Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor
Have your friends teasin you 'bout how sprung I gotcha
Wanna show me how you work it baby, no problem
Get on top then get to bouncing round like a low rider
I'm a seasons vet when it come to this shit
After you work up a sweat you can play with the stick
I'm tryin to explain baby the best way I can
I melt in your mouth girl, not in your hands"

Bizarre, huh? I could think of better ways to get out of driving carpool, but I'm pretty sure that's not what she was aiming for here.

So Macy and I also started our first day of mother-daughter sewing classes yesterday. Between the sewing class and the cheerleading, I feel like I've just spent the weekend trapped in some alternate-universe where my girly-self has been living all these years. Next thing you know I'll be playing with Barbies... *shudder*

sleep deprivation

sigh... another sleepless night.

could it be the galloping monkeys running back and forth across my bed all night?

eerie short film du jour

I've shared this with a couple of folks before, but I enjoyed this short film so much that I thought I'd add a link here for those who haven't seen it yet. The film is Roadside Attractions by CJ Roy and Arkham Films. Looks like he's got a few others on his site as well, though I haven't had a chance to watch them all yet. (iBitch 2.0 is pretty amusing -- love the closing credits!) Cool stuff. Enjoy!

(It's been a busy week filled with nothing really blog-worthy to report, but hopefully I'll have something new to post soon...)

for the person who has everything

Speaking of ghosts and ghouls, I was recently Googling for something related to Tim Burton when I accidentally stumbled across a web-site that I found to be pretty darn ghoulish. Now, I consider myself a lover of art and I appreciate it in many forms, but egads! The artist, Cat Grey (creepy...I wonder if that's her real name), has a site called Morbid Tendencies, and she creates her art out of DEAD ANIMALS. She has some art that you can see, and other art that you can buy. She even has a subscription gift service called The Unfortunate Animal of the Month Club, where for just $50 per month (3-month minimum or add $5) you can have your very own piece of dead-animal art, custom-made (based on clues she extracts from your name, address, and handwriting or email style) and delivered to your door...gift-wrapped! (It frightens me to think that there may actually be a clientele for this.) She writes that she is also the founder of The International Society of Animal Recyclers (ISOAR), but I was thinking -- doesn't Mother Nature already take care of that?

illucid dreaming

I've been plagued by vivid dreams off and on the past couple of weeks, ghosts from the past reappearing unexpectedly and uninvited. I suppose I've always been a slow-healer in the area of "unfinished business", but it still disturbs me that I have no means of preventing these unwelcome intrusions when they occur. I've heard of lucid dreaming, but I wonder if there is some sort of inverse process to be learned...I mean, it isn't that I mind where my mind chooses to go (in fact, I generally enjoy the spontaneity of it all), but it would be nice to be able to tell it
"just don't go there".

It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room,
when I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.
~ Brand New, The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

television without pity

A new school year is just around the corner and I am reminded that a new season of television is about to start again. It’s funny, a few years ago I didn’t watch much television; in fact, at the time I prided myself (pffft...for whatever reason) on the fact that I only watched one half-hour sitcom per week (“Seinfeld”). That was, until a dear friend of mine seduced me into watching the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Like some kind of tv-crack-dealer he would come into my office each week and tell me stories of the ongoing unrequited-love triangle of Buffy, Xander and Willow. It wasn't long before I was hooked. BTVS was the “gateway drug” which eventually led to my current tv-watching addiction. Next it was Dawson’s Creek, and then, when summer came, the short-lived Young Americans (anybody remember that one?). Then Ally McBeal, Popular, and the Gilmore Girls, just to name a few. Now I have become the tv-crack-dealer, and so not only am I hooked, but I feel compelled to seek out and seduce others as well. It's just that I am so enthralled that I want everyone else to feel-what-I-feel. My current list of must-see-tv includes:

• Lost (thank god for Tivo, because you simply have to watch this show a couple of times to catch everything)
• Desperate Housewives (wickedly funny--those who aren't watching don't know what they're missing)
• Boston Legal (I've had an obsession with James Spader since Sex, Lies and Videotape, and ohmigod, William Shatner's "Denny Crane!" is hysterical)
• Gilmore Girls (I don't just love them -- I want to move to Stars Hollow and be one of them)
• Scrubs (Zach Braff. 'nuff said.)
• Grey's Anatomy (I didn't plan on liking this one, but it's been surprisingly good so far)

I'm sure I'm probably leaving some out, and there will be more added as the new season gets underway. I had high hopes for Starved (that it would be somewhere along the lines of Fat Actress, which is oh so crude, but I have that kind of sense of humor), but the pilot fell a little flat with me. I've read that the second and third episodes are supposed to be better, so we'll see.

So before I commence working on my tv-watching matrix, tell me...what will you be watching this season?

March of the Penguins

I just got home from seeing March of the Penguins. It was absolutely breathtaking! There is something so humbling about seeing nature that up close and personal. The emperor penguins are so beautiful and their story truly amazing. I was a little apprehensive when I saw that there was literally a theater *full* of parents with children under the age of 3...I guess I was surprised to see them bringing ones that young to a "documentary"...but I think the kids must have been as mesmerized as I was (or it was nap time for all ;) because the only "peep" I heard was from the baby chicks on the screen. Which, by the way, were the CUTEST THINGS EVER! It made me rush right home after to snuggle my kitties (I know, they're not penguins, but it was the closest thing to 'fuzzy and adorable' that I could get my hands on). I highly recommend! (both the movie and the kitty-snuggling) :)

life is passing through me

I received the following email late last night. The subject line of the message was simply "hello", and even though I was sure it was most likely spam, curiosity got the better of me so I decided to open it anyway:

"I hope i do not intrude here and step over the boundary. I think about you at times and wonder how life is passing through you, been a long time. But if no reply, I would wish that you are well and still perspicacious and show that smile... Tom from 2001"

My immediate reaction: "yup, I was right...spam". Followed by a momentary flash of ego: "hmm... Tom... from 2001... where was I in 2001? Did I meet someone named Tom in 2001?" And then: "perspicacious? is that a real word?" A quick hop over to Dictionary.com gave me the following:

per·spi·ca·cious ( P ) Pronunciation Key (pûrsp-kshs) adj.
Having or showing penetrating mental discernment; clear-sighted. See Synonyms at shrewd.

And then a little more ego (like when you're reading a horoscope, and even though you don't -really- believe in such things, the description just seems to fit): "wow.....I think *I* have penetrating mental discernment..." (heheh) and of course anyone who knows me knows that I have "that smile". *grin* By this time I was completely amusing myself (and yes, I was certain that this is -not- someone who knows me, in case you're wondering). His email address was a Yahoo address, complete with first-initial, last-name, followed by a two-digit number...and even though the text of the email reads as if it were originally written in another language and then computer-translated to English, I decided to look him up on Yahoo, to see if there might be a real profile out there. Alas, there was not (not that I would have contacted him anyway), although a quick Google vanity-search did turn up a name or two, associated oddly with a couple of horticulture sites. My mind can romanticize just about anything, so as I logged off for the night, I drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Tom, this solitary stranger, toiling away the wee hours in his rose garden, longing to make contact with a special someone from his past, and sadly never knowing that the letter had not reached its intended recipient.

And perhaps a small secret wish that the letter really was intended for me... :)

airport security

Last night I had to go to the airport to pick up my daughters, who were flying home alone from Dallas/Ft. Worth to Atlanta. When I got to the airport, I nervously approached the AirTran desk, hoping they would allow me a gate pass so that I could meet my girls at the gate. To me, Hartsfield airport is a nightmare to maneuver, trying to get from the gate to the underground rail system to the baggage claim area, and although I imagine I could have walked the girls through it via our cell phones, I was nervous at the thought of them having to go through that by themselves. When I approached the agent, I explained the situation, gave her the girls' names and flight number, and waited, hoping for a positive response. The agent was cordial and asked for my identification, at which point I start rifling through my wallet looking for my drivers license. After two unsuccessful passes through the entire contents of my purse, I realized that, to my horror, I had left my drivers license at home, in the back pocket of my other jeans, having used it during my late-night flight the night before. The agent asked if I had any other form of photo identification. "No", I said. "How about a Sams card?" I was stunned. "A Sams card?" "Yeah, you know...Sams..." I told her, no, but I do have a Costco card (which doesn't have an actual photograph, but one of those black and white line-scan photos on the back). She took the card over to another agent, I guess to see if they take Costco as well as Sams. (ha!) About that time, I remembered that I *did* have my Lockheed badge with me, which also has a photo on it (a colored line-scan photo, not an actual photo). I called her back over and showed her my badge, eagerly hoping that the combination of the two would convince her of my true identity, and thankfully she handed me a gate pass. She warned me that I might not be so lucky getting through airport security, and to come back and see her if they wouldn't let me through. When I got to the front of the security line, I flashed my gate pass and my Lockheed badge, and without even looking at the photo, the security guard happily sent me right on through. Fortunately I made it to the gate with time to spare, but I still find it funny that with all the talk of airport security, and all the hoops we have to jump through (like taking off our shoes), that a Sams card would be sufficient identification to get me on a plane.

back and forth. forever.

Me and You and Everyone We Know

I can't stop thinking about this movie. I loved it.