"Hey - is that snot on your sleeve and a laptop-shaped hole in your wall?"

Word to the wise... here are two very unfortunate combinations from Sunday evening that I wholeheartedly do not recommend:

1. A raging case of PMS, sinus meds, and a special on the 1980 U.S. hockey team.

2. A raging case of PMS, sinus meds, and attempting to hook up a new wireless router.

You're welcome.


Post update - apparently I sounded much more awful than was actually the case. It was just the perfect storm of circumstances that resulted in an evening of nostalgic weeping and then hair-pulling frustration. No computers were actually harmed. All is good. :)

My Presidents Day Photo Project

Old Man Winter still has a few tricks up the sleeves of his parka. We got another round of snow and are supposed to get a little more tonight. I would be enjoying my snow day even more if it weren't already a holiday in which I'd planned to be at home. Oh well. My agenda of sitting on my ass hasn't been inconvenienced all that much now that I think about, so I guess I'll live.

And, in honor of Abe and George, here's a few shots of Presidents Day from my neck of the woods.

1. My brother gave me a nice sweater that he didn't want anymore.

It's a woolly J Crew number that's too big and bulky for me to be wearing in public, but comes in handy when you're hanging out around the house on a Snow/Presidents Day. I have another sweater of this ilk but it is the last remaining item in the ex-boyfriend collection. It probably has too much bad chi to keep, but is something I haven't been able to part with because of its good, hanging-out-around-the-house qualities. Hopefully this new acquisition will get me one step closer to sending the it and its chi to Goodwill for them to deal with.



2. Nothing I enjoy more than a losing battle...

Me: "Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch."

Me: [leaves the office/den and then returns only a few moments later]

Me: "Seriously?!"



3. Hand-me-downs Continued.

In addition to inheriting a sweater, I also inherited a refrigerator from my mother. A real grown-up refrigerator with a door that seals all the way without having to smoosh the bottom corner shut with your foot. First order of business was NOT to transfer the food from the old refrigerator that is plugged into an extension cord and sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. That's just crazy talk. No, it was to move the refrigerator magnets, photos and humorous whatnot.

You can give a girl a grown-up refrigerator,
but it doesn't mean she'll suddenly act like one.
A grown-up, that is, not a refrigerator...

Getting it in the house was an adventure. My brother and two friends (who fancy themselves my surrogate brothers) moved it for me on Saturday. During the week prior - and twice more the day of - I was asked by my mother, actual brother, one faux brother and my father if I had measured the refrigerator to make sure it would fit. I came to be a little agitated at all the asking. "You know, I'm not as dumb as I look," I said to actual brother. "Yes. I measured. You're the fourth person to ask," I said with a slight growl to faux brother.

And I had measured. Just not correctly it seems. And for some reason it never occurred to me to measure the doorway at my mother's house. I mean... just because their house was built a good 40 or 50 years before refrigerators were even invented, why should there be any problem with it fitting through the front door? Again, that's just crazy talk.

So the refrigerator and freezer door had to be removed and then the little bolts that attach the casters to the bottom got hung up on the storm door at my house and required two people to balance the refrigerator on one end while a third person squatted beneath the tipped up end to tighten up the bolts enough to get it through the door.

The brothers - both actual and faux - were none too amused.

Thankfully real brother got over it quickly - probably because our shared DNA causes him to create these situations as well.

The other two can be bought off with alcohol and banana pudding.

So we're all good for now, but I'll see what kind of problems I can stir up between now and Ash Wednesday.

Hope you enjoyed your Presidents Day!

Before it All Disappears

Now that our snow has turned from sled snow to snowman snow (I initially typed man snow, but then that sounded terribly odd...) I was reminded of one of my most favorite things in the world - Calvin and Hobbes and my stash of Calvin-building-snowmen comics.

Then I got to work and forgot.

Then I saw in the news where Calvin's creator, Bill Waterrson, gave a rare interview and I was reminded again. Which is a good thing because the snow will probably all be gone by tomorrow. Sad.

Until then:

Here is where I posted the comics before.

Here is the interview if you'd like to read it.

And here's to the groundhog who saw his shadow today - woo hoo! Hopefully this means we'll still get another round of snow before spring. Yes, I know I'm odd. Humor me.

Happy Groundhog's Day!

News of the Weird

1. It SNOWED!

A few inches even.

And then there was ice.

Then our infrastructure completely collapsed and everyone went sledding.

Well, the collapse of the infrastructure was a bit of an exaggeration... BUT I did try to go see a matinee movie on Saturday and the damn place was closed. CLOSED! Madness.

So we went to a little restaurant nearby on the off chance that it might be open- and lo and behold it was. Now I ask you. A tiny, locally-owned restaurant has enough supplies and employees who can get to work and bring out bread, make gumbo and pour large glasses of wine, but a ginormous movie theater - coughRegalCinemasHollywood27cough - can't scrounge up one person to turn on a projector and pour a Diet Coke? I mean, we even had our own cookies to smuggle in so we wouldn't have bothered them for snacks. Mercy.

Needless to say, after my wine and gumbo detour at 1:00 in the afternoon, I went home and was completely useless for the rest of the day. I did play with the dogs out in the snow. Elsie will root around in the snow. Then roll in the snow. Then run at top speed, stop short and shower Oliver in giant spray of snow. Oliver, however, will prance in the snow because his paws are cold. Then he will fling himself into the air and yelp when Elsie sprays him with snow. Then he will come and try to sit on my feet until I let him go back inside. Good times.

2. Blanche DuBois in Footie Pajamas

My niece started talking a lot more around Thanksgiving / Christmas. Cute little toddler-talk:

peeze (please)

again

bankit (blanket)

night-night

In the last couple of weeks though she's started stringing together more words but with a much more exaggerated Southern accent. Now, everyone in my family would sound like we have accents to anyone living anywhere else in the world, but compared to other Southerners, our accents are extremely mild. Somehow though (we think it must be one of her classmates or teachers) she's picked up this crazy drawl. It's like she's in some sort of Montessori preschool production of Streetcar:

Thee-uhs Du-ugh. My-y dawg. (This is Doug. My dog.)

Hay-elp (help)

Paynk (pink)

Puh-lay bawl? (Play ball?)

I babysat the other night and couldn't stop laughing. Totally hilarious.

3. Potato Bandit

Elsie is a bit of a thief. It's likely the herding dog in her. She mostly likes to steal socks or dish towels and usually ferrets them out through the dog door and then drops them into one of the holes in the yard. You know when she's stolen something because she tries not to be obvious and run through the house - but she's way too excited to be nonchalant and walk normally - so she does this quick little walk with tiny steps and rapid clicking of her toenails on the hardwood floors. Guests are often amazed when I have my back to her as she comes trotting through the living room, sock-in-mouth, and I loudly say "Elsie. Drop it." without ever turning around.

On Sunday I got up and made roasted red potatoes for a brunch later that morning. I came back from brunch and was talking to my mother on the phone when I heard an odd crunching noise coming from the bedroom. I went to check and there was Elsie, sprawled out on the floor with a raw red potato. She grasped it in her paws and nibbled it with her front teeth, then would ponder it briefly, turn it with her paws and continue nibbling. She finally noticed me staring at her, picked the potato up in her mouth and quickly trotted it outside, dropped it in a secure location and then came back in. I decided it wasn't worth putting on shoes and a coat to go out in the cold and chase down a half-eaten raw potato. I also reasoned that it couldn't have tasted all that great and therefore she wouldn't do it again.

Later that night I heard the same crunching noise and damn if she didn't have another whole potato. I went to the kitchen to see if she'd pulled the bag off the kitchen island and onto the floor, but the whole bag was gone. I turned on the outside light in the back and looked out into the snow-covered yard for signs of a mesh bag of red potatoes, but I didn't see anything. Not knowing how good it was for a 35-pound dog to eat at least part of two raw potatoes, I decided to take that one from her. She looked at me strangely, got up, trotted out the door and came back 30 seconds later with another brand new potato. Apparently there's a stash. And it's likely hidden in a hole under several socks and a dish towel. I took that one from her too and I'm going to check today and see if it's okay for her to eat raw potatoes. If so, I'll be tossing part of one into her bowl every now and then since she seems to enjoy it and it keeps her occupied for several minutes. Every time I think that dog can't get any more bizarre, she seems to find a way.

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.

Questions Questions

The ever-lovely Emotional Mullet sent this my way and it looked like a fun way to start my morning. Feel free to answer them yourselves.

1. What is your occupation right now?
Lackey / Whipping Boy Communications coordinator for an environmental non-profit organization.

2. What color are your socks right now?
Dark blue with hints of tan and white dog hair

3. What are you listening to right now?
NPR

4. What was the last thing that you ate?
Leftover pizza

5. Can you drive a stick shift?
Yes. An automatic? Surprisingly not so well...

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
My goofy friend, Donnie.

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
I do, indeed.

8. How old are you today?
38 and 3/4. Eek.

9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV?
College football. College basketball is a close second.

10. What is your favorite drink?
Caffienated: strong black coffee or Diet Coke; Alcoholic: Yazoo Dos Perros (local brew), Jack and ginger, gin and whatever; Healthy: pure cranberry juice and sparkling water or Naked juice - the green one (it's especially good if you've had too many selections from the alcohol list...)

11. Have you ever colored your hair?
Yes. It could use it right now, actually.

12. Do you like cake or brownies?
Either. I do like chocolate brownies better than chocolate cake. But there are few things better than carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

13. What is the last movie you watched?
Avatar. Well... all but the last 15 minutes of Avatar because the big fancy computer that runs the IMAX broke down right before the end.

14. Favorite day of the year?
The peak of fall, whenever that happens to occur.

15. How do you vent anger?
Crying or avoiding it until I accidentally snap at someone I'm not angry with. If I'm being slightly more productive and healthy I will gripe about it to someone or write about it. I'm trying to be better about confronting the source directly, but sadly I'm an avoider. It sucks.

16. What was your favorite toy as a child?
My Winnie-the-Pooh. Record player. And we had a bunch of Star Wars stuff that was fun - I think the Millenium Falcon was my favorite.

17. What is your favorite season?
Fall

18. Cherries or Blueberries?
Blueberries

19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back?
In general, or this list of questions? I didn't email this to them, but any email from them is always welcome. Unless it's a request to join the damn Facebook!

20. Who is most likely to respond?
Maybe Katie.

21. Who is least likely to respond?
Not sure.

22. Living situation?
Blueberry cottage in East Nashville with two heathen dogs.

23. When was the last time you cried?
One day last week when I was being a pissed-off avoider (see #15)

24. What is on the floor of your closet right now?
Ugly tile from the 50s. Boots and fancy shoes in clear plastic shoe boxes. Chucks, clogs and trainers in a pile. Laundry hamper. Tiny folding step stool. (This is all much more impressive if you know that my closet is 3' x 3 1/2').

25. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to?
Katie.

26. What did you do last night?
Loaded and ran the dishwasher, cleaned off my desk, groomed two very uncooperative dogs (ears, nails, teeth and coats), did a little work while I watched "Castle," and then fell asleep on the couch watching reruns of "The Office."

27. What are you most afraid of?
What are we talking here? Clowns? Or, like, dying alone? Either way the list is endless and keeps the pharmacy at Target here in business...

28. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers?
Cheese.

29. Favorite dog breed?
Heathen

30. Favorite day of the week?
All have their merits, but I do enjoy my weekly Friday night dinner with friends and family and a pint or two of Dos Perros. Saturdays involving pancakes and/or college football are also good.

31. How many states have you lived in?
Technically three, but I was too young to remember one of them. Sorry, Kentucky.

32. Diamonds or pearls?
I wouldn't turn down either, but am partial to pearls.

33. What is your favorite flower?
Peonies and hydrangea. I also like a good daffodil or iris.

...and the Trojan horse you rode in on

So. On the ride that has been the Big Orange Emotional Roller Coaster, let's recap:

Last year my beloved state's university hired a new head football coach. I took an instant disliking to him. Among other things, he was very young, mouthy, wore a sun visor, was rumored not to like the color orange and was married to a woman who went to Florida.

Yes, I know these are not legitimate reasons to dislike someone, but when combined with my gut instinct, these things didn't help. Being loyal to a fault, however, I vowed to get on board and at least be supportive.

That fall our team started out pretty shakily. But the coach said he was standing behind our quarterback, made some adjustments, and things started to turn around. I began to appreciate his methods and the new enthusiasm in the team.

The coach continued to be mouthy and was playing harder and faster with the rules than I was used to. I decided that I was maybe being too critical. Change is always hard and maybe his style wasn't bad - just different.

So I lightened up. And in the Vanderbilt game, when big, ole Wes Brown (arguably the sweetest, most dedicated player on our team at the end of his last home game ever) intercepted that pass and on two destroyed knees and with a Vanderbilt player clinging to him for dear life, lumbered into the end zone for a touchdown, the Tennessee bench erupted with pure joy and so did the coach. And that sealed it for me. He was our coach. He was officially a Tennessee man. (Brown's TD was, hands down, the greatest moment of the season - watch it here.)

And then it all changed. Last Tuesday night I came home to discover that the coach I had decided to like against my initial instincts and better judgement proved me wrong. Or right. Whichever.

Now, I'm all for people following their dreams. And apparently we weren't his dream job. Fine. For some reason coaching USC is his dream job. Fine. You do what you have to do. But when you do it - you need to try to appear that you have at least a tiny ounce of respect for the team and the school and the state that hired you and embraced you in spite of yourself. And, while we're at it, here's what you don't do:

• You don't allow our players to find out from ESPN that you're leaving before you tell them.
• You don't announce you're leaving in a 90-second press conference after the evening news so that you can slink out of town under the cover of darkness.
• You don't show up to the press conference in a baggy golf shirt and shorts.
• You don't allow your assistant coach to stand at the back of the room on his cell phone during your press conference and try to poach our new recruits.
• You don't show up the next day for your new job at a big, live, fancy press conference - in a suit - and tell them that you really had no choice but to leave because our coaching job is "a top 15 job," but this new one is "a number 1 job."

Oh, but he did all of those things plus other devious and rodent-esque things that have come out since.

The silver lining is - as tends to happen in these situations - the worst behavior of a few has brought out the best behavior in many. Because being a team in the SEC is much like being a brother in a family of twelve large, unruly, brutish boys who are hell-bent on beating the crap out of each other all day. That is, until the bully from down the street tries to pick a fight with one of you. Reading the comments on the posts at my favorite Tennessee sports blog warmed my little orange heart:

(From a KY fan) "I hate it for you guys, honest.... you didn't deserve this."

"Gators Fan Here. I never liked Lane Kiffin at all, but this goes beyond the pale. I feel badly for you guys and can only hope karma kicks in sooner rather than later.

"From a Tide Fan: Good riddance to that egomaniac. Your school deserves a lot better than that."

"From a Dawg Fan... I am sorry for ya’ll. It’s a cold wind on Rocky Top tonight, but it will get better."

But the icing on the cake didn't come from the SEC. Surprisingly it came from the PAC-10. Turns out, there are many UCLA fans who have now sworn allegiance with the Volunteers. I think I'll be doing the same in return:

"A Bruin Fan here: Vol fans are some of the best opposing fans I’ve come across and I can’t believe you guys have to deal with this kind of spineless, soulless, gutless BS...You guys will bounce back and it’s going to be a joy to watch."

"From Bruin fan: Keep your chin up Vols!!! I admire your passion for your team. I was not able to travel to Knoxville for the UCLA/UT game but had many friends that did. They all had nothing but great things to say about TN. With that being said, you guys will be better off without Kiffin. Please join the BruinNation in enjoying kicking the crap out of USC and Kiffin!! Best of luck to you guys!"

And I have to admit - this one had me a bit verklempt:

"Let me first say that my family has a place in their heart for the wonderful hospitality of the Vol Nation when we visited Neyland stadium this past year.

Before, during and after the game we were blown away by the truly royal and gracious treatment we were given. From the Rocky Top welcome of the football team by the band and thousands of fans, to the zeal of Neyland stadium, to the unbelievable class of your fans in defeat, we could not get over the entire, wonderful, Tennessee experience. That’s what college football should be about, and you guys and gals are all class.

Just remember, you’re better off. He would have tainted your program forever. No doubt you will replace him with a better man very soon. Don’t worry about revenge. Leave that to us back here in Bruintown. It will be our pleasure. GO VOLS!"

So, Mr. Kiffin, I guess what it comes down to is this - if you don't want to be here, then we don't want you here. Eventually I hope to see it in such simple terms and can say it without grinding my teeth. Until that time comes... I hope you enjoyed our Southern Hospitality while it lasted. And I hope you enjoy your new job while it lasts.

But most of all, I hope you remember what you said at the beginning of last season - about how you couldn't wait until you got to hear "Rocky Top" all night long. Because I have a feeling the UCLA band is practicing it as we speak.

GO VOLS!

GO BRUINS!