Stuff You Probably Already Know But I'm Going to Use This Post to Ramble on About it Anyway

I now work for a very serious organization that does very important and serious things. And we all just got Skype on our computers. Ooooh Lordeee, it's been all kinds of nerdy fun over here this week.

Tourism is an important part of the economy here in Nashville. But do we really have to have tourists? Especially the dude that asked me for directions with a cigarette barely balanced on his lower lip. WHILE I WAS PUMPING GAS. And the couple in front of me in line at the barbeque place who had to have a seven minute discussion with the guy behind the counter: "The sign says pork. Is it a pork chop? No? What kind of pork is it? Pulled pork? What does that mean?" And it's only April. From now until September it's only going to get exponentially more special each month. It's a good thing I don't work in PR for the visitor's bureau: "Welcome to Nashville. Now, please go sit quietly over there until it's time for you to leave."

The original Tea Party was about taxation without representation. So... to those in charge of this new concoction of the Tea Party... bless your hearts... please change your name. You HAVE representation. It's just that you aren't happy about it. And that's fine. Just please call yourselves the Red Bull or the Mountain Dew Party or something else more fitting.

NPR is awesome. Van Morrison is awesome. NPR's discussing Van Morrison for an hour is way beyond awesome. Our local affiliate just recently switched from playing coma-inducing classical music all day between ME and ATC (you know you're officially a dork when you refer to NPR programs by acronyms...) to an all-talk format: On Point, Talk of the Nation, Fresh Air, etc. You would not believe the complaining that people have done about it. I don't understand. I mean, did they not just hear what I heard? Talking about Van Morrison. And the way all of your insides feel when he growls out those lines like "And IIIIIII want to rock yourrrrr Gypsy sooooulll" or "Sheee's. As sweeeeet. Aaa-aas. Tupelo honeeeey." For a whole hour. Made my day. Can you tell?

God's grace and forgiveness applies to everyone. But I am having a really hard time wanting this to be true for certain despicable owners of coal mines and "parents" who return their adopted children.

Things still really suck in Haiti. And it's about to start raining. A lot. Please don't forget about them. If you've been wanting to give money but haven't - or if you want to give even more - click up there on the right.

Dixie Carter's death is a huge loss and I am sad. But, I bet my friend Eddie is pretty psyched.

4. Some sort of pop culture babbling.

In my First Post of 2010 I listed off what had been running around in my head but wasn't actually getting posted. Number four was "Some sort of pop culture babbling." So, being one for always wanting to cross items off a list, I give you the top five week in review - pop culture edition. Hopefully I'll get around to my holiday recap sometime before Easter.

1. Found
You know what starts on Tuesday!? The final season of Lost! I can't wait! And yet I'm a little sad. It's kind of like the first day of my senior year of college. I couldn't wait for it because I knew I was in for a great ride, but I didn't want it to start because I knew it would be over all too soon. I just hope it paves the way for other television programming that is smart and complicated and doesn't involve elimination ceremonies, crime labs or Jay Leno. My fingers are crossed.

2. The universe, she is cruel.
The trailer for Robert Pattinson's new movie, Remember Me, is out. My first reaction as I started watching it? Yum. Soon after that? Argh! No! Make it stop! Why? Well, who would that be playing his father? Yeah, that would be Pierce Brosnan. And while my crush on "Remington Steele" ended many years ago, it's still pretty fresh in the ole memory bank. Does this officially make me middle-aged? It was hard enough when I noticed the dads in commercials were getting hotter, but it creeps me out a bit when both the dad AND the son are swoon-worthy. I need a drink...

3. Please excuse the bits of grey matter on my TV screen.
Have you noticed those beautifully edited and narrated commercials that tug at your heart strings while they tell you all about the integrity, nobility and environmentalism of the American Farmer? Oh wait, correction... the integrity, nobility and environmentalism of the American Farmer all thanks to MONSANTO!? Nothing on television has made my head want to explode more since those high fructose corn syrup ads from this summer or when one of our local news anchors responds to the frigid weather forecast with "What global warming?!" Anyway... you want to talk about how much Monsanto loves American Farmers? Or farmers anywhere in the world, for that matter? Click here and start reading. It's only a drop in the bucket.

4. "You know how picky I am about my shoes, and those just go on my feet."
There's a new adaptation of Emma that began on Masterpiece last Sunday. So far I like it, but I didn't care much for the BBC's Kate Beckinsale version or the Hollywood, Gwyneth Paltrow version (although Jeremey Northam makes a very nice Mr. Knightly) so we'll see if I make it through all three parts of this one. My problem with the others is that Emma was played as a spoiled, prissy, know-it-all who messes with everyone's lives because she feels superior and so she won't have to deal with her life. This new Emma is still very flawed - as she should be - and you still want to choke her, but then you want to hug her because she is genuinely well-intentioned (or as we say here, "she don't mean no harm.") Anyway... enough of indulging my inner English major - this is supposed to be about pop culture! Now, watch how quickly I revert! Because if we want to talk about the BEST adaptation of Emma - for me, it is Clueless. Absolutely no question.

5. "Oh, I love Jeff Gordon - he's the world's fastest Christian."
Which reminds me... I never mentioned how very sad I was - and still am - about Brittany Murphy. So tragic. She was such a quirky, talented girl. As Luanne Platter on "King of the Hill" or Tai in Clueless, she provided me with endless amounts of quotable joy and will be missed.

Top Five List - Week in Review

1. Everything is Relative
Nobel Peace Prize, huh? Interesting. Bono is probably like, "dude, I totally have to have a shot at this now." Not that I'm saying Barack isn't worthy, or that Bono wouldn't be either for that matter, but it was all a bit surprising. Most surprising is that part of the reason he was awarded this was just because he put forth the idea (just the idea!) that if the US is going to be a world leader it should maybe be a partner with our allies and be leading with the policies they can all agree on. Fancy that. My idealist side is all warm and fuzzy thinking that maybe world peace is somewhat achievable if we break it down into simple things like this. But then my snarky pessimistic side pipes up and says "gee, what a seriously fucked-up eight years we all just lived through if this is a revolutionary concept."

But back to warm and fuzzy...

2. Dying from all the adorable
Anyone watch Jim and Pam get married on The Office last night? What a roller-coastery ride of squirm-inducing embarrassment and swoon-worthy cuteness. That Jim Halpert. I love him. And, thanks to Katie, I even have the magnetized note pad on my refrigerator to prove it. And, if fictional Jim and Pam weren't adorable enough, the real John Krasinski and Jenna Fischer are pretty damn adorable too. Video proof here.

And while I was watching...


3. Chipped
I am missing part of the girlie chip in my brain. I think I have half of it. If I'm lucky. It makes me that weird species known as Tomboy in a Dress. The kind that remembers who designed the gown Sarah Jessica Parker wore to the 2005 Emmy's, but can also tell you how many touchdown passes Peyton Manning threw last year. The kind that is a shoe/purse whore, but can't stand the color pink. The kind that always wants her toenails painted pretty colors, but can't stand for her fingernails to be painted.

And thus my point... I actually have pretty, girlie fingernails that other, more girlie-girls like to fawn over. But alas, they are attached to ugly tomboy fingers and hands. And I hate to have them painted. Occasionally though (like last night, while I was watching The Office) when I have purchased a new bottle of nail polish and am painting my toes I think "I have nice fingernails, maybe I'll paint them." And then I do. And then it dries. And then I think "Lord. This looks like someone put fake nails on Vienna sausages." And then I take it off. So that all happened last night EXCEPT I couldn't find my fingernail polish remover. So here I sit today. Typing with nicely polished nails. Well, not really, as I am also not a graceful girl and have already managed to chip three of them. Gah!

But speaking of Peyton Manning...

4. Pretty is as Pretty Does
I have a group of friends who enjoys harassing me over - well, over a lot of things - but often over the fact that I do not find Tom Brady attractive. I'm sorry. Shoot me. He's just not my cup of tea. I happen to believe that in the world of NFL quarterbacks, you fall into one of two camps - Bradys or Mannings. Being a good, red-blooded Southern, SEC football-loving girl, I am squarely in the Manning camp. I don't really find Peyton "hot" per se, but that Eli is a cutie. Regardless, I can't just go by "hotness" alone. There has to be some substance there behind any said hotness. And not only do I not find Mr. Brady to be hot, I also just don't find much else there to work with. So, whereas neither Manning boy may be of Greek God status, their personalities make them much more attractive to me.

So, this same group of friends at dinner this week launched into me again about my dislike of Tom Brady and then challenged me with "well then who DO you think is hot? Give us a top five." And you know - it was hard. The first two were easy, George Clooney and Johnny Depp. And then I stalled. And then thankfully someone changed the subject. Because again, it's not just about being pretty. I mean, I could have added Jude Law to that list because, mercy, that is a pretty man. But even if you believe a fraction of what you read about him in People magazine? Ew. Ick. David Beckham? Also rather hot, but have you heard him speak? And seen his wife? Total detractors for me. If we'd finished the list I would have added Colin Firth - but really, is he "hot?" I don't know. I love him. John Cusack? Hot? Perhaps. But definitely on my list. Rounding out the top five would have been Dave Grohl. Also, definitely not traditionally hot, but I do so love him. So very much.

Which brings me to...

5. Sibling Text Message Theater
Dave Grohl played in Nashville on Monday night. Not with the Foo Fighters or the surviving members of Nirvana. Or even Will Ferrell. It was some other ensemble. I did not go, but a friend did. And it turns out they played at a venue where my brother works. Said friend ran into said brother and they chatted while having a smoke. Turns out my brother MET DAVE GROHL backstage! Shortly after learning this bit of information I turned to the trusty qwerty keyboard on my phone:

Me: Just saw Melissa. DUDE! You met Dave Grohl!?

Brother: How's her foot?

Me: Little better. I REPEAT - DUDE! You met Dave Grohl?! WTF!!!!!

Brother: It's not like we had lunch.

Me: BUT STILL! I love him. Was he nice? What was he wearing? What did he say? What did you say?

Brother: He was cool. He said he was looking for a short, dark-haired, single girl he could spend Saturdays watching UT football games with. I said I didn't know any.

And that was the week that was. Happy Friday.

What I Learned This Summer - Part Three

Grief is an Odd Feeling. Grief over Celebrities is Odder.


RIP, Michael Jackson. And, not to be crass, but you really lived longer than I thought you would. I don't know who you really were or what you did or didn't do. I do know that when we were kids my brother and I played your music as much as our Star Wars album, so that's saying a lot. And I do know that all of the weirdos wailing in the streets in their supposed sorrow (and I include most of your family in that) yeah, well, they helped to kill you and I hope they figure that out one day.

I will say that I did get a bit choked up, when in the middle of all of the circus that first week of his death, The Simpsons that Sunday simply ran the old episode where he was a guest voice. His character was Homer's roommate in an asylum who thought he was Michael Jackson and helped Bart write a song for Lisa's birthday. It was a sweet gesture and a fitting tribute to the crazy that was his life.

By far the more upsetting celebrity death for me this summer was John Hughes. And it's odd because I have no idea what he was like as a person - even in the way you think you know a celebrity, but really don't. But he was literally responsible for the soundtrack of my adolescence and with his sudden passing I feel like I really, really have to be a grown-up now. It kinda sucks.

Everyone has their favorite John Hughes movie. I, of course, love all of my teen-angst-riddled Molly Ringwald films, but I think his best was Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Silly and absurd, but also still funny and really, just very beautiful to watch. You don't usually get that from a teen comedy. John Hughes had a talent for marrying music and film in a way that isn't cliched but instead make you feel instantly nostalgic for that time in your life. Even if you weren't old enough for that time in your life to have happened yet.

Did that make any sense?

Anyway... when I would read articles about Hughes' death, the scene and the song that kept popping into my head wasn't the "The Thompson Twins and sitting on the dining table with the birthday cake," or "dancing in the school library to 'We Are Not Alone," or "Duckie lip-synching to Otis Redding." Those are all great and rightly have been posted and paid tribute to over and over again. But for me, what kept running through my mind, and what typified John Hughes work was The Art Institute of Chicago and The Smiths.

A Simpler Place in Time

Happy Birthday today to Gladys Knight. I don't know much about you, Gladys, except that you are responsible for singing one of the greatest songs in the history of the world.

That song is also responsible for one of my favorite moments of Will & Grace. When Will and Grace get a bit sidetracked trying to work up the courage to confess to Sandra Bernhart that they never were interested in buying her apartment and just used it as an excuse to meet her.

It's also one of the many songs my brother and I would sing along to when we were little, standing in front of the fireplace, pretending it was a stage. We often thought we were going to be the next Donnie and Marie. Although on this tune, somehow, I always ended up as a Pip...

I got to spend a lot of time with my brother and my niece this past weekend and at 16 months she's already quite the ham. I see many fireplace hearth-turned-stage productions in her future and hopefully she'll let us at least sing back-up. So Gladys, with any luck, maybe by this time next year I'll be a Pip again.

Happy Birthday.

Two Things Destroying / Restoring My Faith in Humanity

So first, the bad.

I lovingly refer to these two things as The Crap I Didn't Want to Know about in the First Place but It's Been Crammed Down My Throat So Much I Now Feel Compelled to Bitch about It Edition.

1. Dear Miss California and Mr. Trump and Mr. Hilton,

Please. All of you. Shut up. I don't care what any of your opinions are on gay marriage or topless photos or family values or pageant ethics or why the chicken crossed the road. You aren't doing the pageant community, the rich jackass community, or the gay community any favors with your respective bullshit. Besides, none of you seem competent enough to pick out your own earrings, hair pieces or clothing so I don't think you need to be speaking on national television about anything else.


2. Dear Parents on Meercat Manor Jon and Kate Plus 8,

I think I smell me some ratings whores. Reality TV is a fickle thing and you knew the free ride had to end sometime. Instead of creating scandal to get people to pay attention to you, maybe you should just repackage your show/family. Maybe become fundamentalists and have nine more kids. Or - better yet - make your kids design outfits and then have them compete against one another. You could get Perez Hilton to advise them and Miss California and Donald Trump to be the judges.

That I might actually watch.

And now for the good.

The Making Up for General World Crappiness, the Fact That Bluejays Have Been Ravaging My Vegetable Garden, and the Existence of Asshats Like Those Mentioned Above Edition.

1. The Obamas.

Yeah, I know. Yawn. Newsflash - Gert likes the president. But there are days when it just seems like the crappy state of the world just keeps getting crappier and I find myself slipping back into the dark, grouchy place I was in for eight years. But then. Then something happens and I remember that feeling I had back in the fall and the winter and I'm re-inspired. Granted, my re-inspiration may only be enough to kick some bluejay ass, but that'll do.

Arizona State Commencement Speech

Merced Commencement Speech (part 1)

2. OMG OMG OMG.

Glee. Did you watch it? Brilliant. Utterly brilliant. Deliberately and un-apologetically cliched and cheesy. Humor, drama, show tunes and my favorite song from 6th grade:

I haven't been this giddy about television since the Jane Austen series on PBS last year. What I didn't know until lunch yesterday, however, was that last night was not the premiere of a series they were going to air this summer, but only a sneak preview at a series for the fall. Tragic, but again, brilliant on the part of Fox because all I'm going to do this summer is remind you to go online and watch it. Aren't you lucky? Seriously, watch it.

Movie Monday

Bring it on, summer....

I hate summer. Have I ever mentioned that? Oh yeah. I have. One of the things that sucks most about summer - one of the greatest ironies in my life - is the summer blockbuster.

I love movies. I love going to the movies. I don't mind paying almost $10 to sit in a darkened theater - even by myself. And when it's 99.99 degrees with 99.99% humidity, my first instinct is to find a nice darkened, chilly room in which to hide. And wouldn't a movie theater fill that bill just perfectly?

Oh but no. No, in the summertime I must suffer under the harsh reality that the movie money is to be made off of the 13-24 year old testosterone-y boys. Boys who want to spend their money watching cars and flames and guns and aliens and cleavage and aliens with guns and/or cleavage.

Now, I'm not against those kinds of movies as a whole. It's just that if I am going to fork over my $10 and find a little air conditioned respite, it would sometimes be nice to find something with a little depth and purpose. But I gave up on that dream a long time ago. Instead I started to wonder - why can we not have the "girlie" version of the summer blockbuster? Because, you know, you can lack depth and purpose without explosives and car chases. It is possible.

Three years ago, my wish was granted by The Devil Wears Prada. I love that movie so very much. Would I have loved it as much if it came out in the middle of November when I have a list of Best Picture Oscar Nominees that I'm trying to find time to see? Maybe not. But that summer it was a godsend. And really - Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci? Not to mention the then-unknown-to-me wonders of Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt (and the extra bonus of Simon Baker)? There was no way it was going to be horrible. Britney Spears could have written and directed and it still would have been worth the ticket price.

So, for this summer - what is the only thing that could be as good as Meryl Streep, Stanley Tucci, Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt? That would Meryl Streep, Stanley Tucci and Amy Adams. In Julie & Julia:

Yes, it looks formulaic. I don't care. Yes, I bet there's a pratfall or two. And an adorably shabby apartment. And a boyfriend in cargo shorts and a t-shirt with some indie rock band on it. And a montage to the tune of a really catchy-yet-ridiculously-obvious song. I don't care. Snarky movie reviewers and mean boys can mock it and call it The Devil Wears an Apron or whatever they want. I don't care. And I can't wait.

In other movie-related nonsense...

MamaPop asks "What was the first movie you saw in the theater?" That's a good question. I don't know exactly what the first movie was, but the first movie I really remember seeing in the theater was Freaky Friday in 1977. I think The Shaggy D.A. may have technically been before that - and probably others as well - but I really remember Freaky Friday. Probably because it was the first movie that wasn't for "little kids." I was in first grade and, I'm sure, wanted to be appreciated for the mature adult I thought I was. I was a strange child... Of course, little did I know later that same year my tiny brain would be completely blown into a million pieces when I went to see Star Wars. So really it's quite a testament to Ms. Jodie Foster that I have any recollection of her movie at all. Speaking of Star Wars... I read on E!PeopleUSWhatever that Calista and Harrison were going to adopt a baby. Don't know if that's true or not, but if it is and if they're taking suggestions for names, mine is Chewbacca. And if she had ever seen Star Wars she would know if that was a good idea or not.


Finally...


If you haven't seen the documentary American Teen yet, I highly recommend it for your Netflix queue. It's a very white, middle-class documentation of American teens, but very true and very good. You think all of your drama - good and bad - from that age is embarrassingly trivial now, but really, not all of it was and it was nice to be reminded of that.


So, any thoughts on coming attractions? The first movie you saw? Things I should be watching from the comfort of my couch? Do share.

Happy Monday!

Disturbance in the Force

So. I read that Calista Flockhart has never seen Star Wars.

Never. Ever.

I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt at first, Calista. When I glanced at the headline I thought "eh, well... maybe you're a few years older than I am... and in 1977 maybe you were of the age where some girls would not have enjoyed Star Wars. I don't see how, but I suppose it's plausible...."

Oh wait. No, no it's not. Because why?

YOU'RE GOING TO MARRY HAN SOLO!

That's why. And I'm sorry. But that's just all kinds of wrong.

Did you not realize that's who he was? Did you have him confused with Richard Dreyfus? I mean, they're both in American Graffiti.... they both did science fiction movies in the 70's... it's not completely out of the realm of possibility. Because that's the only reason I could think of for a person who was planning to actually marry Han Solo to have never seen Star Wars.

I'm really trying to be understanding because, I have to say, I'm a little worried.

If you haven't seen Star Wars, what else haven't you seen?

I mean, you do realize that on TV you're married to Sodapop Curtis / Billy Hicks, right?

And remember? You were in The Birdcage. So you know, right? That guy playing one of your future fathers-in-law?

That was Mork. From Ork.

Just want to make sure...

Cultural Differences

Today is the 50th anniversary of the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens. Very sad.

Less sad, however, was a conversation that took place 40 some-odd years later between Gert and her (now former) Irish boyfriend:

Gert calls for boy several times from the kitchen and gets no response. Gert finds boy sitting on the couch too engrossed in a movie to either hear or answer her.

Gert glances annoyingly over at the television: "What are you watc --- is that Lou Diamond Phillips?!"

Boy: stares at TV

Gert quickly runs through list of movies in her head that contain Lou Diamond Phillips then looks at boy with furrowed brow and more annoyance: "La Bamba? Seriously. You can't answer me because you're watching La Bamba?"

Boy: "Shhh. I love this movie."

Gert with brow more furrowed: "You've seen it before?"

Boy: "Yeah. A couple of times. Haven't you? It's really good."

Gert: "Really?"

Boy: "Yeah. But it's almost to the end and it'll just ruin it if you've never seen it all the way through before."

Gert: "They die in a plane crash."

Boy with furrowed brow: "You said you haven't seen it!"

Gert whispering facetiously: "It's a true story."

Boy with pitiful heartbroken look on face: "What? Really? No way!"

Gert sweetly shaking her head and trying hard not to giggle and/or mock: "Yes. It is. I'm sorry."

Boy with even more pitiful, heartbroken look on face: "I can't believe it. That's so sad. I don't think I can watch anymore."

Gert suddenly feeling guilty and now rummaging through basket of movies: "I know... I'm really sorry... Here... why don't you watch The Commitments again instead... They're Irish AND no one dies..."

In honor of Dick Clark's next birthday (whenever that may be) I'll tell you about the time he discovered that the Dick Clark in the restaurant chain, "Dick Clark's American Diner," was really THE Dick Clark and that they were, in fact, really owned by him. "Yes, THE Dick Clark.... Yes, the American Bandstand guy.... Yes, the New Year's show guy... No, I'm not making it up... Yes, really, the real Dick Clark..."

Happy Friday

Greetings from the end of the non-profit version of Hell Week: January Grant Report Submitting Week! a.k.a. Thank You Sooo Much for the Chunk O' Change Last Year Here's a Bunch of Pages Explaining How We Spent it and Ooooh See We Made it Look All Fancy So Would You Pretty Please Give Us More Now.

Woo. Hoo. (said as I try to figure out how to drink coffee without lifting my head off my desk).

My brain is a bit scrambled and I started pondering the gloriousness of what a nice glass of Jack Daniels might taste like later this evening around ohhh 8:17 this morning - so yeah - I think my Friday is off to a good start...

In honor of the day - here's a top-five random list of crap (plus photos!) to catch you up on our time apart:

1. The Peer Pressure - it Taunts Me.

Here's a conversation I seem to be having a lot these days:

Friend/Relative /Acquaintance/Passerby on the Sidewalk: Hey! You're on Facebook, right?

Gert: Uh, no.
Friend/Relative /Acquaintance/Passerby on the Sidewalk: OMG! How can you not be on Facebook?! I want friend/poke/throw a snowball at you!

Gert: What the hell are you talking about?!?

Friend M: Are you on Facebook?! You better NOT be on Facebook. We're the only two left who aren't - DON'T DO IT!

Gert: I'm not!

Friend M: Seriously. I mean it.

Gert: OK!

I feel like I'm starring in some after-school special. I did find out, however, that a former elementary school crush is on Facebook.

(I used to woefully sing along to this album because of him)

so the scales may be tipping...

2. Meat
I think I managed to eat a portion of one of every animal in God's kingdom over the holidays. I am not (obviously) a vegetarian, but I don't make a habit of eating a lot of meat. And I recently learned that what I am is a "flexitarian" (yes, it's a word). And I don't know if there's a flexitarian wagon to fall off of, but I guarantee that if there is, somewhere between November 27 and January 1, my fat ass did a triple gainer off said wagon. So now I've been trying to seriously limit my meat eating. Trying. The results have varied. This week I've done really well though.

Why am I a flexitarian? (yes, it's a word). Is it because I want to be a vegetarian but have no self discipline? No. Well... I don't have any self-discipline, but that needs it's own post... No, it's partly because I don't like to cook meat. (It's icky and there's a lot of room for error. Vegetables are far more forgiving.) But also it's more for environmental reasons. Carbon footprint and whatnot. But really, I really have no interest in telling you any of that at this moment either. My only interest here is to say that tonight while enjoying my glass of Jack Daniels - I will be partaking in some tasty, tasty barbecue...

3. The Cat's Pajamas. And Bathrobe. And Slippers.
Guess who made a visit to Nashvegas? Craig Ferguson!

Guess who went to see his show? I did!
How was it? As glorious as you might imagine. If he'd brought Tim Gunn out as a special guest I might have just decided to die happy right then.

4. Welcome to the 21st Century!
My New Year's Resolution was to upgrade my technology.

Step one: Get actual/non-dial-up internet service.

Result: Done! DSL - where have you been all my life!

Step two: get a grown up/non-pay-as-you-go cell phone plan and a cell phone with a QWERTY keyboard so that much-preferred text messaging will not be so damn annoying.

Result: Expensive! And difficult to figure out my options! Forget it! Don't mind me - I'll just sit here quietly and peck out a text to my brother to meet me after the Craig Ferguson show! Oh, uh, hey there drunken hillbilly hitting on my friend and maybe me in a minute if said brother doesn't show up! Pay no attention as I text him a quick "PLZ HURRY"! 7-5-5-5-9-9-9-9! Dammittohell!

Oh, hi new Pantech Slate I ordered this morning - where have you been all of my life!

Step three: get an iPod.

Result: Oy. Vey. Head still hurts from cell phone decision. Stay tuned...


5. Several Deadly Sins.
A couple of weekends ago I went in search of boots. Black, pointy-toed, spikey-heeled boots. I did not find said boots. But, there is a universal shoe rule that states if you are planning to buy boots and you do not buy boots, you may buy TWO pair of regular shoes instead. So I got a very cute, but nondescript pair of little brown suede flat loafery things. And then... I found these:
Tweed. Ballet flats. Their adorableness knows no bounds.

But then... Anti-Facebook Friend M comes in with her new pair of Coach rain boots that are crazy-weird and totally made of awesome and I am so jealous. To make matters worse it has been rainy and snowy and sloppy ALL WEEK and not only can the Boundlessly Adorable Tweed Flats not be worn, but the Rain Boots of Awesome can. Envy! Wrath! Go ahead and throw in gluttony and sloth in there too for good measure.

You know, this may have tipped the Facebook scales a bit further... Is Spite a cardinal sin?

Happy Friday (finally!)

Temptation

Clinton Kelly is in our fair city this evening. Well... in a wretched sprawling suburb south of the city, but close enough to tempt me to stalk him...

I would refer to Clinton as my SGB (Green Girl has already staked her claim on Neil Patrick Harris, so I had to move on to someone else :)) but he's never made that a public issue and I don't want to be speculative since, you know, it's really none of my business to begin with...

So instead... I will only say that Stacey London - in addition to having the best hair and taste in clothes on television - has the most awesome job, in part, because she gets to work with Mr. Kelly. They are hilarious together, and now that I can finally watch "The Daily Show" on-line, "What Not to Wear" remains the last, lingering reason I miss cable television. Sniff.

I keep their "rules" in my mind whenever I'm shopping - or hell, even getting dressed most days. I don't think I'm bad enough to warrant being put on their show, but fall brings with it items that I really, really want to buy but know I shouldn't. This week has been particularly hard as I've been extra tempted to stray in hopes that it would trigger some sort of signal and dispatch him to my rescue. (Been readin' too much Twilight maybe? Uh yeah, I think so...)

Yooooou hooooo.... Clinnnnntoooon... look what I'm about to buy:

Chunky sweaters that will create a bulkier sillouette....

Low, square-heeled boots with a non-pointy toe that will make me look even shorter...

Turtlenecks instead of V-necks that will make me look too boxy...

And Clogs! And Flannel! And Cordorouy! Oh My!

Hurry, quick, before it's too late!

(I'm headed to Macy's at lunch. I'll let you know if it actually works...)

Smitten

Or should I say "bitten"...

I would like to take a moment to acknowledge Katie, as she receives my newly created "Bad Influence Blogger" award for mentioning that she was reading the Twilight series in a post a few weeks ago.

"Oh, I've heard people talk about these books. Are they really any good?" I asked over the phone after reading the post.

"Ggggaaaaahhhhh Eeeeeedddddwwwaaaaaaaardddd." Was all I heard on the other end.

For those of you who haven't read the book - or those of you who are SANE but don't happen to have a 14 year-old girl in your home - the Twilight books are about Bella, a teenage human girl and Edward, a very old vampire trapped in the body of a hot 17 year old boy. Duhn, duhn, duuhhh...

After a very lengthy work week that didn't end until 5:30 on Saturday evening, I found myself in the magazine and paperback aisle of Target.

"Oh, hey look - there's that book Katie loves," I mumbled out loud to myself in the middle of Target and then followed it with a little imitation of "Eeeeddddwwwwaaaarrrddd."

I picked up the book - the actors cast to play Bella and Eeeeddddwwwaaarrrddd in the upcoming motion picture are already on the cover. It was all of $6 and a fairly sizable read at 500-ish pages in a moderately-sized type face. I considered the likelihood of it totally sucking and the desire I had to do next to nothing on Sunday and tossed it in the cart along with my trouser socks, power strip and dog treats.

Sunday came and as I started a load of laundry and then prepared to get back in bed and listen to a marathon of NPR, I glanced over at the book.

"It's probably easy enough to read for a bit while I listen to the news," I reasoned.

"It's probably got a light and soap-opera-y plot that won't be hard to put down when the next load of laundry needs to be started or I feel guilty enough to go empty the dishwasher," I justified in my mind.

And then I started reading.

"Wow, 'Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!' is on already?!?" I thought when I heard my favorite NPR show start and figured out the morning news was long over.

"Eh. I'll listen to it on-line sometime later this week," I quickly decided.

"Crap. I have to pee," I realized, totally annoyed, and then raced around the house, letting the dogs out, changing the laundry, pouring more coffee, and oh yeah, peeing, all in a span of 30 seconds, before going back to reading.

"Holymarymotherofgod are you kidding me!?! The repeat of 'A Prairie Home Companion' is on! That means it's after 2:00!" I shouted to myself totally appalled at my laziness and the fact that I've been reading about teenage vampire love for SIX HOURS.

"Oh. I only have 40 pages left," I quickly assessed and then realized that it didn't matter if the sun started setting and I had to subject myself to the public radio hell that is "Thistle and Shamrock," I wasn't getting up until it was finished.

"DAMN YOU AND YOUR VAMPIRE BOOK!" I said as Katie picked up the phone when I called after finishing the last delicious page.

I can't remember the last time I read an entire book in one sitting. But really, if I think about it, it's not THAT HARD to believe as what quickly drew me in is that the main character is a clumsy, pasty, awkward, introverted, dark-haired, teenage girl with sarcasm and angst to spare.

Helllooo??? Sound familiar??? (That's me waving at you through the computer...)

And what would this real live angsty teenager have thought if her high school biology lab partner turned out to be a brooding, sullen, complicated, outsider with piercing eyes, impossibly high cheekbones, and told me he was a vampire??? I think we all can guess the answer.

I mean, who are we kidding? My elementary school boyfriend thought he was a dog for all of fourth grade.

So I think it's safe to say that I give Twilight a hearty two thumbs up. I expected the written equivalent of "Beverly Hills 90210." Something I admit to having enjoyed but with full understanding of how ridiculous it was. But this wasn't. This was more equatable to my summer obsession with "Felicity" I admitted to earlier. Unexpectedly enjoyable writing. Compelling stories. Addictive characters.

Felicity with Fangs, if you will.

And Edward is my new Ben.

I'm sorry. I totally misspoke.

Eeeeeedddddddwwwwaaaaarrrrdddd.

Adorableness to Beat the Band

Last night I fell asleep around 9:30. I have a feeling one or both of these things may be the cause:

• Impending-Armageddon-Induced Insomnia (I mean really, did you think yesterday's crazy rant was done at a normal hour??)
  
  
• The peace that came with finally seeing Jim and Pam get engaged on "The Office." (Adorable, yes, but the Pennsylvania Turnpike? Seriously? I think we all deserved a little better than that.)

I woke up a little before midnight and couldn't go back to sleep so I checked in on the man who has lately been giving my affection for Jon Stewart a little competition. Craig Ferguson. If you've never watched his show, I recommend watching, taping, DVRing, Tivoing, or YouTubing - whichever your pleasure. He's just great. Nothing is scripted - the monologues or the interviews. Sometimes that means there's a lot of mediocre rambling, but even at those times he's better than a lot of rehearsed talk show hosts. Plus, he says what he thinks, doesn't mince words and yet he's still really nice about it. Oh. And. There's the Scottish accent. Definitely adorable.

Last night I hit the mother load. Tim Gunn from "Project Runway" was his first guest. "Project Runway" is definitely in the Top Five of what I miss not having cable and Mr. Gunn is one of the biggest reasons. He's a lot like Craig Ferguson - he's hilarious, he's brilliant, he's direct and says what he thinks and yet he's so nice about it. Turns out the two men are each a big fan of the other's show and their conversation together was so damn adorable I could barely stand it.

In case you haven't picked up on it - I have two main weaknesses when it comes to the opposite sex: an accent from the British Isles and a smart, dry-witted, gay man.

A little insight as to why I'm still single? Perhaps.

Here's the clip, thanks to YouTube. It's a bit long, but worth it to get to the end when they talk about Diane von Furstenburg. So great.

And really. Even if you don't care anything about either of them or their shows, it's refreshing watch two intelligent people carry on an articulate conversation without the use of teleprompters or sound bites.

So I'm now off to a bar to watch the debates and guessing that my warm and fuzzy Gunn/Ferguson feeling won't last much longer.

Happy Friday!

Men...

This snarky, superficial observation from the weekend comes not out of any real ill-will, but only from having a pile of crap on my desk too overwhelming to think about at the moment. So I'm invoking the Scarlett O'Hara defense ("I'll think about that tomorrow"). Well, for the next 15 minutes anyway...

Dear Joe Biden: I love you, man. Seriously. Couldn't be happier that you're Obama's running-mate. (If for no other reason than this brings the total count of people I know, or know of, from the state of Delaware to TWO.) But... when you're giving your first big speech as the Potential Next Vice President of the Free World, could you maybe have gotten a haircut? I know that we were all given short notice that you were chosen, but I'm assuming you got a better heads-up than the rest of us. And speaking of a Heads-Up... I'm also going to assume that there was probably one somewhere in the Springfield, Illinois area.


Dear Mayor of London: I don't know anything about you, but I bet I would like you too. Your name is Boris. How great is that? You strike me as a guy I'd enjoy sharing a pint of Guinness with in a pub. Some would argue that you too need a haircut, but I think it's cool. Sort of a young Ryan O'Neal meets Andy Warhol. However... I watched you on the closing ceremonies of the Olympics last night (Horrid London intro/preview/whateverthehellthatwas, by the way. You get David Beckham and Jimmy Page to fly to China and that's all we get? And don't even get me started on that weird bus and those umbrella dancers...) and I was wondering if maybe in 2012, when you're on television in front of another gabillion people, you could try buttoning your suit jacket? Just a thought.

Say what you will about Hillary or the Queen and their hair and their outfits, but they would have made damn sure they were properly groomed and appropriately buttoned. And one of them would have would have not only waved that Olympic flag around like a champ, but she'd have done it while also carrying a handbag...

I Bet She Can Pronounce Nuclear Correctly...

Every so often someone asks me if I would ever vote Republican.

My response to that has always been "I'd rather eat glass."

Well, after careful consideration and soul searching I've decided that response really needs to be modified.

It will now be "I'd rather vote for Paris Hilton."

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/64ad536a6d

Who knew she was funny? Or had an energy policy?

Already a vast improvement...

Chickens Just Back from the Shore

On the list of things I find annoying, the Feist counting song / iPod commercial and the new format of Sesame Street would both be on there somewhere. Not as high on the list as say drivers not using their turn signals, gladiator sandals, or Kenny Chesney. But annoying nonetheless.

Anyway... I've mentioned before how the Feist tune is catchy but irritates me. And as for Sesame Street, well, let's just say I'm a Sesame Street purist. Before the format change I was known to watch it from time to time even as a childless adult (what else are you supposed to do on a sick day?). I own the behind-the-scenes book, Sesame Street: Unpaved. "Ladybug Picnic" is one of the ringtones on my cell phone. I hate Elmo. I am old-school. I can't help it. I'm a child of the 70's. It's sacred. Just like Star Wars. And if you monkey around with it too much it's sacrilege. So this newer, Elmo-centric, monotonous, not-clever, not-funny Sesame Street is exactly that. Sacrilege.

But redemption is always possible, my friends. And so I give you a sneak preview into the 2008 season of Sesame Street and probably one of the more adorable things I've seen in a while:



I also read that James Blunt will be on at some point this season to lament the loss of his favorite shape in "My Triangle." If I ever get wind of a Kenny Chesney/Elmo duet though, it may be the end of me.

P.S. All of this made me want to see REM singing "Furry Happy Monsters" and lo and behold, it is on YouTube as well:



Happy Wednesday!!

General Observations

Hello. Long time no chat. Nothing earth shattering has been going on, but here are some random things to be taken or left as you wish.


1. Alanis Morisette should follow me around for a while.
The same day I put in new car air freshener vent clippy things with the scent of "Summer Rain" I accidentally left the windows open too far and it rained in my car all afternoon. Ironic? Yes or no? Please discuss. I would also like to mention that "Summer Rain" air freshener clippy things don't smell a thing like summer rain. They smell like nasty fabric softener and with the same intensity as though you'd snorted it up your nose. So when combined, fake summer rain and actual summer rain in the JettaWhoWillNotBeNamed results in an aroma reminiscent of Wet Dog Doused in Snuggle. So... kinda like my laundry room... A well-spent $2.99 and trip down the Target automotive aisle if ever there was one.


2. So che siete ma che cosa sono io.
In an attempt to add Glass House Dwellers and Stone Throwers to their list of many accomplishments, someone in our presidential administration distributed information to reporters along on the G-8 junket this week. In it was a bio on Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi that referred to him as "a political dilettante who gained high office only through use of his considerable influence on the national media" and "one of the most controversial leaders in the history of a country known for governmental corruption and vice." The staffer that wrote it and will probably have to be punished for it (and who I'm guessing wanted to be fired instead of just jumping ship so that he could collect unemployment while writing his tell-all) really hit the smug, hypocritical mother-load, no? And... not to nitpick over word choice, but if by "vice" the Bushie meant the country has an appreciation of education, history, art, music, architecture, real food, small cars AND YET still manages affordable health care, a pretty high standard of living and a respectable GNP, then I think we could stand a vice or two like that over here. In the meantime I've been hoping Berlusconi's people would issue a statement that just simply said "I know you are, but what am I?"


3. Someone's been sampling the props.
On my Netflix summer watching list is the Showtime series "Weeds." Season 3 is starting to get a little more outrageous and dark-humored than I enjoy, but it's still fantastic. Plus, I think that Nancy and Conrad may have usurped Hyde and Jackie of "That 70's Show" for top spot on my list of Most Unlikely Yet Greatest Television Couples Ever. But alas, not my point. Last night I happened to check out the special features on one of the discs and watched a promo thingy on whichever Olsen twin it is that joined the cast that season. In it she says the role was a great opportunity "because most people only know me from 'Full House' or as a fashion icon." Uhhhh. I'm sorry. What??? I know I shouldn't sit here in Levis, Tevas and a shirt from Eddie Bauer and cast judgement on who should and shouldn't be considered a fashion icon, but at the same time, I think I am as qualified as someone whose style was referred to in this same feature as "dumpster chic." I also don't know if said twin is single, but I hear there's a recently unemployed presidential staffer with similar delusional issues and he could probably use a date this weekend.


4. Ongoing attempts at self-improvement.
There's a general fantasy that seems to float around in the rest of the world's mind as to the typical Southern summer's day. It usually involves elegantly rumpled linen outfits, gracious front porches, the scent of honeysuckle and a hand fan. If you happen to be in possession of one of those fantasies, I'm here to gently inform you that it's a giant pile of crap. A summer's day in my Southern reality involves wearing whatever is least likely to show pit stains... fighting the dogs for the living room floor vent when the AC kicks on... and air so muggy that it knocks the wind out of you just a bit when you walk outside. It is scented. I will give you that. But less like honeysuckle and more like a damp beach towel you just found in the trunk of a car that's been baking in the driveway for a week and a half. And being more on the hermit end of the personality spectrum anyway, it takes all I can muster not to just close all the blinds and lay on the cool hardwoods with an IV of gin and tonic for three or four months. My point (at least I do go on like a good Southerner...) is that one of the reasons I started this little bloggy experiment was to try and evolve a bit. Up to this point I've only succeeded in perfecting the art of kvetching so now I'm going to try something else. And that something is to try to "enjoy" summer through writing. And photography. That's all I've got so far though. But stay tuned...


5. Ending my list with more lists. Ahhhh...
Entertainment Weekly's website (which is all kinds of fun even on a bad day) has been counting down their top 100 lists of "The New Classics." First movies, then television series, then albums, and lastly, books. I was pleased to have seen more than half of the movies listed. More of the TV shows than I care to admit. More of the music than I expected (thanks to a very generous inclusion of angsty 80's alt-rock). But sadly very few of the books. Very sadly. I used to be an avid reader. I still am in some ways, I guess - it's just that it usually involves nonfiction and home improvement magazines. Anyway... if you have a chance and want to take a look at the lists, it's a good way to kill twenty minutes (this link starts the movie countdown and all the rest are in the links on the side). I would be interested to know what you think. Shocks? Happy surprises? Unfortunate omissions? And if you're a smarty-pants that has read a good chunk of the book list I'd like to know what you think should be added to the stack on my bedside table. And read once I finish the July issue of "This Old House," of course...

In Other Less-Grouchy News...

After my post about all things currently wrong with the world I thought I'd be all Feng Shui-y and write about some happier news to balance out my chi. Gert is very zen.

Plus, work has given me one mother of a headache - probably caused by staying here until an ungodly hour last night instead of being able to work from home because - have I mentioned? - George Bush killed my laptop...

Oh that's right. I'm being zen. And nice. Moving on...

1. Never let it be said that I don't take my time getting things done OR that I have a big mouth. I finally got my upper-left thirteen-year molar. Yes, you read that correctly. Back in the day, my orthodontist thought that when the braces finally put everything in order it would just decide to show up. But no. My oral surgeon thought that when he removed my wisdom teeth it would be jarred loose and then come in. Wrong again. Maybe instead of a thirteen-year molar it's a thirty-year molar. What? Oh. I'm not thirty anymore either? Well, hell. OK, so my other theory is that either it has more room now because a couple of my teeth have shifted slightly back to their original, more-crooked position (retainer? what retainer?) OR it has been shaken loose by the new electric toothbrush my dentist suggested I get ("if you'd like to go ahead and admit to yourself that you're really not going to floss as much as you say you're going to and just purchase an electric toothbrush, I think we'd both be much happier in the long run.") So, I'm hoping this starts a new trend and by August I expect to have finished my 7th grade summer reading list and finally found that long-lost Cyndi Lauper cassette...

2. Huntsville didn't totally suck. Totally being the operative word. The first half of my trip was spent at a business/enterprise-related conference that was basically a Republican parallel universe where I was literally the only person not in a suit and where global warming does indeed exist but will actually be good for the US economy because third world countries will become dependent upon us for their food. Who knew!?! But more about that later... How is this happy, good chi news you ask? Well, because I got to see one of UT's former punters, got a magnet and a stress ball (that I've already lost), had HBO in my hotel room, AND met a real live astronaut. Not too shabby. I do wish that instead of pens, one of the booths had been giving away medically-induced amnesia so that I could forget most of the presentations I had to sit through. Maybe next year...

3. Better late than never. I finally got my date night. Monday. I went with my friend Alan to dinner and to see Sex and the City. Dinner was delicious and the movie was too. Not absolutely everything that I was hoping for but enough fabulous clothes and funny lines and inside jokes to keep me happy. There will be more about this later too, but I will say that there was even a third thing as equally delicious as dinner and the movie. It was the preview for the movie version of Mama Mia. I am counting down the days as of this moment.

4. Anyone listen to NPR last Sunday? You knew a list of random crap from me wouldn't be complete without some mention of public television and/or radio... Last Sunday was the anniversary of when Tennessee became a state or some such historical whatnot. Anyway... in honor of that (and because the substitute host for that Sunday is stationed in Nashville) the broadcast included an interview with Nashville's mayor about our lovely Cumberland river (and not so lovely sewer pipes that are from, I kid you not, before the Civil War); an article about the Bluebird Cafe; a musical transition thingy by Victor Krauss (Allison's brother); an interview with local punk band Be Your Own Pet; a feature on the Nashville phenomenon lovingly known as "Hot Chicken" (Splendid Table actually did a better article on Prince's Hot Chicken a month or so ago); AND the guy who played the puzzle with Will Shortz was the cutest little elderly retired professor from UT. He not only totally kicked ass on what I thought was a really hard puzzle, but when asked at the end what his local station was said "WUOT - radio station of the University of Tennessee and the Lady Vols Basketball Champions!" Delightful. I've linked them all so you can hear them online if you'd like :)

5. Last time I was too disgusted to continue with my list. This time I don't know what else I could top it with. Good chi indeed.

Won't You Wear a Sweater?

I think this may be the cutest, dorkiest, most awesomest, nerdiest, wonderful thing I've ever seen and I'm so sad I didn't know about it earlier:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVeyLr2fGNA

It's all part of the celebration in Pittsburgh of the 40th anniversary of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood and what would have been Mr. Rogers' 80th birthday.

http://www.fci.org/NeighborDays/index.asp

I didn't wear my favorite sweater today, but it is a cardigan.

To make up for it I will be sure to change into sneakers first thing when I get home.

Poor Gomez

When did Morticia Addams go and get herself knocked-up by an extra from "Hawaii Five-O"?

But seriously... what kind of world do we live in where Brad Pitt has to try this hard? Brad, dude, you've gotten America's Girl Next Door AND America's Favorite Freaky Chick. Don't sweat it. As far as the hetero male population is concerned, you're golden. For life. (As for the rest of us, we've got our VHS copies of Thelma and Louise and Legends of the Fall so we're cool.)

Besides, you've got a lot of mouths to feed and world peace to achieve so you probably shouldn't have paid, what I am assuming was, a crap-load of money for those tab-front plaid pants. Next time, try shopping here. You get free socks with every order.