Hiatus

As most of you know, Jason and I are thrilled to announce that Baby Beale will make his or her debut this fall! I have decided to put Beale Bits on hiatus while we settled into the role of parenthood. But don't panic, Baby Beale does have a whole new blog which can be found here: Baby Beale I hope my loyal readers will follow along this wonderful journey that Jason and I have embarked on. I am sure it will be one hell of a ride. Many thanks to all of our wonderful family and friends who have supported and loved us through the years. Without them, we would be lost. See ya next fall!

CMT Awards

Wow, Paula Adbul looks kind of great.

That's a nice, rich color, and I love her hair. Of course...the sleeve is sliding off her shoulder on one side, isn't it? And the sparkly embellishments look a tiny bit like Spider Man threw a tantrum in her limo. But it's PAULA, you know? I feel like it's a blessing if she even manages to wander into the correct party, on the right day, using real words in a believable order.

Is It Getting Warmer in Here?

I am starting to get concerned about global warming.
Not so much about the oceans heating up or melting the polar ice caps. No, we're pretty much screwed there. My issue is quite the opposite. I'm worried that the stuff isn't going to go down fast enough.
I'm the type of person that has always gotten torn up by the waiting. The dread of the big test at the end of the semester, three months away. The angst over finishing the project that isn't even scheduled to start for another six months. Puberty.
This whole earth thing is a done deal. After several dozen years of humanity, it's going to be our generation who gets the bone.
But I'm doing all I can to shorten the wait. I've been going outside every afternoon and spraying old cans of hairspray at the sun. I've converted every light bulb in my house to charcoal briquettes. I've cut down every tree in my yard and turned it into a grazing area for an entire herd of cows. I coat the ground in refried beans so that they're extra gassy. I drive my SUV on flat tires while towing another SUV that is also running and has the air conditioning on high and it's towing a boat with the propeller spinning while a man in the back throws baby seals into the rotating blades.
But I'm only one woman. And this waiting is going to kill me.
Please do your part. Screw the Earth. Someone make up the t-shirts.

The Downfall

It occurs to me lately that one of the many reasons for the collapse of civilization as we know it is that the people that are supposed to call you back never do and the people that you wish would get hit by dump truck full of hippopotamus droppings call and email you twelve times a day. Think about it.

Me Gusta

I was going to post this yesterday, but truth be told, I was having a difficult time posting a list of things I adore while I was feeling kind of crummy (pesky urinary tract infection). But if I were going to add items to my list of things I dislike, asymmetry would be one of them (along with any performance that involves audience participation, hard-boiled eggs, and grape popsicles) so here you are:
45 Things of Which I am Fond:
1. Cheese
2. Cardboard cummerbunds that prevent one's fingers from being scalded by paper coffee cups
3. Lip balm, or rather lip balm that doesn't screw around. My lips laugh at chap stick. They laugh and laugh, and then they crack right open. Some examples of acceptable lip balm include Philosophy Kiss Me, Smith's Rosebud Salve, and Badgers Lavender & Orange.
4. Sex
5. The subjunctive-practically a whole tense devoted to "if". It is a wistful tense. It is my favorite tense, and yet it is shunned. Long live the subjunctive!
6. The triple cheese sandwich from Macado's
7. The comma
8. Television (particularly Dirt and Ugly Betty)
9. Coconut: some of its most inspired uses include Godiva chocolates filled with coconut cream, coconut cream pie, and the Pina Colada
10. Cinnamon
11. The feature that allows me to moderate comments on this blog and put phrases like "Buy Xanax now cheap" or "Hot Porn Lady" on a watch list
12. TP-such as the lovely Costco brand- that does not scrap mercilessly at my nethers
13. Dancing in my kitchen until I am panting and noodle-legged, if there is a more effective mood adjuster, I have yet to find it
14. Target
15. When I have been up all night, perhaps worrying, and the sun starts to come up, and everything seems better, and I fall asleep in my bedroom with the windows open and birds outside
16. Cats, particularly Wrigley
17. My books, to whom I plan to dedicate my first book-because without them none of this would be possible
18. A nice cup of tea (My favorite? My Ma's spiced tea she makes from scratch)
19. People who correctly use the words "fewer" and "less", "good" and "well", "wealthy" and "rich"
20. Typing when I have just had a manicure
21. HBO- Especially the new John Adams miniseries
22. The Internet and it's index Google
23. Spell check
24. Looking at water that goes all the way to the horizon
25. Looking at flat land that goes all the way to the horizon
26. Costa Rica
27. Photographs
28. May and October
29. Tuna Melts
30. The smell of Gardenias
31. Ginger Ale
32. Reading James Patterson books when ill
33. Trains
34. My circle ladies. Emily, Becca, Sarah, Jenn, Kelly, Beth, Ginny, and Sara mean more to me than they will probably ever know.
35. Room service
36. Wine at weddings, which I am no longer allowed to have thanks to hateful headaches
37. The first person point of view
38. Clean sheets
39. My eyes, which are very blue
40. Peonies
41. Second chances with old friends
42. Laughing so hard you can't catch a breath
43. Camp Mainto-Wish
44. My husband
45. My dear readers, sweet as sticky rice, delightful as bacon

I Didn't List Tapered Jeans Because I Would Hope You Already Know Better

Please leave your own dislikes in the comments. But hurry, because tomorrow-ish I will be posting 45 Things I Like, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss the chance to bond via our mutual dislike.
And remember, this is by no means a complete list....
45 Things I Dislike:
1. Oreos
2. Anxiety attacks
3. Tom Cruise
4. Leggings- and let me say that it alarms me and saddens me that their popularity forces me to place them in my 45 things, thereby acknowledging their existence
5. The overly crunchy ends of croissants
6. Big bangs
7. Poppy seeds
8. The excessively tan, especially when they are Caucasian girls wearing their hair in cornrows
9. Caucasian girls wearing their hair in cornrows, especially if they are excessively tan
10. Turtlenecks worn beneath sweaters/sweatshirts
12. Berets worn by persons other than elderly French men (There are a few exceptions to this rule, but a very few.)
13. The phrase "healing process" when it not being applied to something physical and concrete, such as the formation of a scab.
14. People who would describe themselves with the phrase Free Spirit
15. The word moist, it gags me to even write it
16. Aviator/wraparound sunglasses, particularly of the mirrored variety
17. The name "Brittany" especially when shortened to "Britt" and greatly exacerbated if "Britt" is the captain of a high school sports team
18. America's Funniest Home Videos- explain to me why watching a man being assaulted by an elephant is "funny"
19. Wet naps- enough said
20. Strapless bras that seem perfectly content to stay up until you have purchased them and are wearing them in a public place
21. Tuna melts about which the menu says, simply, "Tuna Melt", that turns out to be aggressively flavored with lemon zest
22. My stomach's apparent delight in growling whenever it would be most noticeable and inappropriate for it to do so
23. Waiting to have a baby
24. Modern dance that is composed primary of silent twitching-please ask yourself whether your "dance" could be easily performed by an epileptic with a leotard. If the answer is yes, it is time to reevaluate your career choice
25. The make-out scenes on VH-1's Flavor of Love
26. The fact that I even watch the Flavor of Love
27. Mullets, male
28. Mullets, female
29. Your name, if it is Fifi and you are not a poodle
30. Doctors who think telling a nervous person they will die young if they do not reduce their stress level is conducive to reducing said nervous person's stress level
31. Processed cheese
32. The phrase "luncheon meat"
33. The phrase "I'd like to pick your brain," because EW
34. Barky, yappy, yippy dogs
35. UB40
36. The color combination teal & mauve
37. Persons who spell the words "for" and "to" with numbers.
38. People who pronounce the word library, Lie-berry.
39. Long hair on men
40. When people use the singular form of something instead of plural(Example three foot, three feet, twenty cent, twenty cents)
41. Junior High School
42. John Ritter
43. Nurses who call you with test results but attempt to substitute a chirpy "Everything looks fine!" for said results: unless it is a yes or no blood test-i.e.- "No, you don't have cancer," or "Yes, Jermaine is your father"-I would like the results relayed in the form of actual numbers, rather than your boundless optimism
44. Walmart
45. Anyone, including myself, touching my feet

Seriously

Allow me to walk you through the experience of watching American Idol in the Beale household last night:

Me: Hang on. What happened to Paula's left sleeve? Did Simon finally get to the point where he just couldn't take her nonsensical ramblings anymore and rip it off in a rage?

Jason: Ummmm....

Me: Hold the phone. Is she wearing pleather elbow-length GLOVES? With assorted bracelets?

Jason: Ahhhhh.....

Me: REWIND. ARE THOSE GLOVES FINGERLESS? Also, is she doing the Macarena right now?

Jason: O Kayyyyyy.......

Me: REWIND THE PHONE AND HOLD ON TO IT. Fingerless pleather elbow-length gloves covered in bracelets and capped off with a cocktail ring? Am I seeing this? I think I am seeing this. Maybe I hit my head at some point today and now I'm hallucinating. That's probably what's going on here. Why can't I hallucinate Brad Pitt? Is that Kristy Lee Cook singing "God Bless the USA'? WHERE DID MOMMY PUT HER GIN?

Jason: Oh, Lee Greenwood.

Me: How can you even think about Lee Greenwood at at a time like this?

Mad About Me

I haven't written anything decent in a couple months now and it's tickin' me off. When am I gonna become famous, so I can get some lackeys to take care of the annoyances in my day, allowing me to devote more time to writing? Seriously, you people are not helping me out at all. To recap, I need you to either:
A.) Make me famous
B.) Become my lackey
GET GOING ALREADY!!

Traveling Man

I have been traveling for business this week. Of course, I went to the Midwest, where the floods have hit. The trip home yesterday brought with it yet another joyous experience at the airport. I flew from Columbus, Ohio to Greensboro on Skybus Airlines because it was the cheapest option from here to there or vice versa. Now, you'd think that there wouldn't be more than a few people a year that would would want to travel on Skybus to the greater Columbus metropolis, but the plane was full of adorable little doe-eyed travelers. I was standing in the gate area picking out who was leaving home from Ohio and who was just visiting--Ohio, Ohio, Greensboro, Ohio, Greensboro, Ohio, Ohio, Ohio. It's really quite obvious really. People in Greensboro don't wear full beards and flannel shirts in the middle of spring. Especially the women.
So we boarded the plane and wedged ourselves into the seats, listening to instructions on what to do in case of a water landing. What? Are we taking a little-known westerly route over the Pacific between Ohio and Greensboro? Seems inconvenient, but I'm not a major airline, so what do I know? I chose to stay quiet, lest they think me a terrorist.
Turns out that I didn't need to immediately worry about traveling over a major body of water anyway. The major body of water was coming to us. We were 27th in line for takeoff and nobody was in a really big hurry. To hear the tower tell it, there was some sort of flash-monsoon heading directly to the Columbus airport. Storm of the century. Hail the size of poodles. In the distance, I saw a man building an ark.
So we sat. Our captain was very helpful with updates, telling us that nothing whatsoever had changed and we were waiting for the storm to hit.
Ah. Yes, let's not get out of here before the poodles come. Let's wait and enjoy the show.
We were all careful to move from our seats, because the plane could move AT ANY MOMENT!! Wait for it!!! The excitement on the plane was palpable. Plane sitting should be a ride at Disney.
Then the Captain came on again and said that the storm was moving more slowly than expected, so he was just gonna go ahead and power down for a while. We were free to move about the cabin until further notice.
Sweet joyful liberty! Finally I can run free in the aisle! Go horseback riding! Swim in the Olympic sized pool!!!
Or I can sit and stew. And seethe.
After 2 hours (well really more like 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours), I hear the engines power up. The Captain comes on over the intercom with his cheeriest voice and proclaims that we are ret'ta'go. I look out the window. No poodles. Light drizzle. My house plants were wetter than our runway.

What Up Dawg?

I just wanted you guys to know that Randy Jackson is going around wearing an ascot:

I thought you should be made aware of this. That's all. You know, just letting you know that he's out and about in this. Just in case you were wondering what he was up to.

Taxed

This past weekend we had our taxes done. It wasn't good, it wasn't bad. We pretty much broke even. I could go on a rant about taxes and the government and how they are stealing from the rich to give to the poor (not that I'm in either of those brackets) and how I had a ton of fun doing my taxes, what with dealing with no less than 10 W2's between my husband and I (2007=the year of the part time job) and no charitable donations and only earning a small smidgen of interest on our mortgage. Nope. Today will be rant-fee. Because today, I am curious.
With all this talk of money, I have been thinking about some fundamental human questions. I know that we are all in different places in our lives and jobs. Some of you may be out of work right now. But I think that these questions apply to all and I hope you are able to answer a few of them. For instance:
How much money is enough? Would you take less money to do something that you really love? How much less? What would you be willing to give up in your life in order to have fun at your job? Would you move? Would you take half as much money? What?
If you are in a job you love, why do you love it? What makes a job worthwhile and fun to you?
Do you value your free time enough so that you are willing to work harder, even if it's doing something you don't necessarily enjoy, just to be able to have better, more fulfilling "play" time?
Are you willing to work harder at something you dislike just to have a more enjoyable retirement?
What is the happy medium for you?
Cause I'm having a hard time with these questions lately.

Please Leave A Message

Voicemail from my Dad 10:24 AM
"Hey, this is your Dad, I just wanted to check in with you from sunny Mexico. (Pronounced Meh-hee-co) And also, a little input on your message, on your voicemail message? You say, "I'm not here right now" and I want to know where you are. Because you have to be somewhere. Cause it's a mobile phone. It's a cell phone. It's a mobile. So if you're not here, where are you? Anyway, I'll send you a postcard. Love you."
Um... more Margaritas, anyone?

Microsoft

So I was in the Ghetto Grocery (aka Food Lion) yesterday after work because somehow our Nacho Alarm System failed and we'd managed to run out of all the stuff you make nachos with, and there was a little girl in line ahead of me with her Dad. Probably nine or ten. Old enough to walk, not old enough to drive. And she's dancing around with her eyes squeezed shut, one hand clutching a pink mp3 player, the other flailing around in the air, and she's singing along:
"Ma ma se ma ma sa, ma-MI-CRO-SOFT! Ma ma se, ma ma sa, ma-MI-CRO-SOFT!"
The best part is that I'm 99% sure she was clutching an ipod.

Old School

I was watching a special on MTV at some point this past week entitled True Life: I'm a High School Senior. It tracked the journey of several kids from two different schools through much of their final year of high school.
It was painful to watch.
You know how sometimes you hear that old theme song from your high school prom or look at some locked-in-time photographs of younger days and every memory of time and place tumbles down upon you and swallows your self-esteem whole?
Okay, maybe you don't.
But I do.
Watching the program made me nauseous. There are feelings that one learns to compartmentalize over time. Traumas, sights, sounds, loves. The mind pushes them to a little room, because though these feelings have built your personality, they shouldn't necessarily ever see the light of day again. But when something triggers the latch on the door to that little room, all of the memories and feelings spill onto the floor like sand. You can't pick them up and put them away fast enough.
As the more astute members of the audience may have gathered, I had a somewhat awkward high school experience. I was neither popular nor unpopular. Neither known or unknown. Not happy or sad. I was just so ordinary. And I knew it. Feeling ordinary is harder to accept than anything else. It has a certain hopelessness to it.
Why did everything seem like it was absolutely important then? Very nearly the day after I graduated, I came to the realization that none of it mattered. I became the person that I knew I could be. Much more outgoing. Happier. Extraordinary.
But then I see these kids going through the whirlwind. Caught up in it. The monumental, seemingly life-altering twist of fate that tears at you and make you wonder if the world is always going to be so unfair. I want to shake them and tell them that none of it matters!
But I guess it does matter. I guess we need that little room in our minds. I guess we need to pass through there to get here.

For the Love of Juno

Since I can hear my friend Emily practically begging me to write about the Oscars, here goes:

Oh, Ellen.

I know, I know. You love the converse. You're a smart kind and a bit of a tomboy. I like you. I saw Juno. You seem smart. I think you're adorable. If I lived next door to you, we'd be hanging out, shooting the stuff all the time. And if that were the case, today I would shuffle over some time after noon with McDonald's French Fries (for the hangover) and the papers, and we'd eat six or seven bags of chips and then I'd say, "Ellen, WTF?" And you'd roll your eyes, and then I'd say, "Why didn't you ask me?" and you'd say, "because you would have told me not to wear it." And I'd say, "And?" And you would say, "and you would have been right."

Painful Reality

The youngest singers on American Idol this week were born in 1991-1992. They were tasked with singing tunes from the 60s, which would be the same as someone my age singing songs from the 40s.
And on a similar note, I haven't been able to get out of my head that Marty McFly went back in time to the 50s, which was 30 years before the 80s. And it's almost been 30 years since the 80s, so the 80s are to kids today what the 50s are to me.
Just in case you didn't have anything that depressed the crap out of you today.

Shout Out

Wouldn't you like to have Nurse Amber give you a sponge bath?

-

My Brother's girlfriend, Amber passed the RN boards yesterday! We are so proud of her and all she has accomplished so far in life.

Mothman Prophecy

Last night I had a dream that a moth got stuck in my throat. In the dream, I gagged and choked and hacked. The moth came out in a gooey glob. So here are my questions:
If I was hacking like a madwoman in my sleep, was I gagging in real life too?
Does this dream mean I'm uptight?
Why is the cat all wet?

The Answer

When I used to live and work in Chicago, conversations with friends would invariably drift to the subject of relationships. I was often the only girl member of the group and some times I was the only single person in the room. I'd grown used to the fact that I'm a bit of an anachronism. An anachronism and a sideshow freak. Nobody's still in love anymore. No one says it and means it every time. Nobody gets married and stays married for love. What's the point? It's just too hard. It isn't realistic. I had been burned before. And learned my lesson the hard way.
Then I meet Jason. And my whole world shifted.
I remember a recent phone conversation with my friend Tony. I like Tony; he's smart and clever and honest. He'll listen when you talk and will genuinely consider your point. He takes you in and doesn't make snap judgements. But he'll also come straight to the point.
"So why the hell did you get married, anyway?" he asked cheerfully.
"Whaddaya mean?" I asked, attempting to gain context through the phone.
"I mean..why get married? Why do it? I don't get it," he laughed.
"I guess..I don't.." I began to say.
"Did he make you get married? Like you couldn't resist the ring? Or just wanted a big party? I've really never understood this," he stated.
"No, he didn't make me. You're just mad because nobody will marry you. You have got to let go of the bitterness," I said with an exaggerated inhalation and exhalation.
"No, no, no, it's not about that. Hell, it's not like I even have prospects, let alone wife material. But I really don't get marriage. It all seems pointless and I don't know, fake," he explained.
"I guess I just..." and I stopped.
I don't think anyone had ever asked me before. How many years have I been married? What was the wedding like? Was I nervous? All the standard questions. But never why? How did I not have the answer to this question? I always screw up the easy questions on these tests.
"I guess because it's what you do, ya know? That next step, maybe? Wait...that's not right. That's the easy answer," I stumbled.
"Yeah, I am totally not buying your BS there," he laughed.
"I think because I really wanted to, ya know? I wanted to make him happy and our families happy and..." I tried to find the words.
"That all seems stupid to me," he said plainly.
"What?" I asked, surprised.
"That's really dumb. You got married to make other people happy? That's just so ridiculous. I mean, who cares?" he said.
"Not just to make other people happy. I wanted to get married. I wanted to make that commitment," I tried, certain that the term "commitment" would end the conversation. Yes. Take that.
"You shouldn't need a piece of paper and a minister for that," he countered.
I hate arguing with smart people.
"C'mon, it's more than that, and you know it," I said, getting a little pissed at my inability to answer this most basic question.
"No, I really, really don't know. I have no idea why people get married," he said, holding genuine.
"Maybe it comes down to how we're raised. My parents were married for 20 years and Jason's for over 35 or 36 year now. It's kind of ingrained in me. I want that life. Maybe you just never had that," I said.
"I'd at least buy into that a little more than your other arguments. I still don't understand why people feel the need to get married, though. The chance at failure almost seems to doom you," he stated.
"Yeah, but everyone goes into it with the belief that they're the exception. They're gonna make it." I reasoned.
"Well, that I get. That's true of every realtionship that ever was," he laughed.
"But honestly, Tony, it comes down to the fact that I just really love him. Maybe it's that simple. Maybe that's the answer," I finally said.
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe that's enough."
I think about that conversation a lot, mostly because of my completely blindsided inablitity to express an answer. But today, a day no different than any other, save a number on a calender, I think I am ready to share the answer with you.
I got married because it means something to me and it means something to every person who knows us. It's not a piece of paper and a minister. It's a statement. I knew the moment that I met him that I wanted to look into his jewel-clear eyes and see his smile and hear his laugh every day. Every day. For the rest of our lives. The only future that I have, the only future that I want, is forever with him. That's why I am married. And that's why no date on a calender matters, because it's just another day on the road to ever after.
Happy Valentines's Day.

4:33 AM

Jason: Wake up! Honey, wake up!
Me: Ummm...
Jason: I had a really bad dream, you were having sex with a gay man. It's really upset me.
Me: What was I doing? Using the drumstick or what?
Jason: Drumstick? What are you talking about?
Me: Well, how exactly was I having sex with a game hen?

The Nonsense Poem

One dark night while the moon was bright
Two dead boys got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other
A deaf policeman hearing the noise
Came to kill those two dead boys
And if you don't believe my story is true
Ask the blind man for he saw it too.

There Are Too Many Jennys Up In Here

To add to my ever-increasing list of ailments (other than feeling generally crappy this week), I think I have a urinary tract infection. Ugh. I was in tears this morning, simply because I'm sick of having something wrong with me all. the. time. I decided I needed immediate attention and called my poor doctor this morning because I was terrified this meant I would have to cancel my follie scan this afternoon. Also, I read online that a urinary tract infection could be a side effect of Femara. The doctor reasured me that we can still do the scan this afternoon and if it turns out to be a problem, they will write me a perscription while I am there. I think she thinks I'm crazy. And, as it turns out, I am. I'm suffering from multiple personality disorder at the moment regarding my upcoming follie scan. Here's what's going on inside my head:
Living-in-the-moment Jenny: I am going to get over this bladder infection idea and do my work just like any other day, and not think about my appointment this afternoon. Because what if it goes badly? I can't hinge my entire day on a doctor's appointment!
Hopeful Jenny: Oh, but won't I feel just fantastic when/if they find out I have one or two siezable follies! And why shouldn't I? I mean, it's not as if Clomid was a complete bust-it just didn't work quite as it should. Femara hasn't made me crazy like the Clomid did; that's got to be a sign, right? And I've heard plenty of stories of PCOS women who tried Clomid and it didn't work, and they tried Femara and got pregnant on their first try! It could happen. It could, it could, it could!
Pessimistic Jenny: Yes, well, I know plenty of other stories of women who didn't get jack-squat from Femara. What makes you think you are going to be one of the lucky ones? You certainly haven't been lucky so far.
Hungry Jenny: I'm hungry.
Scientific Jenny: Well, you know Femara works in a completely different way to increase estrogen than Clomid does, blah, blah, blah. So your reaction to Clomid is completely unrelated to what your reaction will be to Femara. And, you have ovulated before, so you have the capability.
British Jenny: So chin up, old sport! You could be in for a jolly good scan this afternoon!
Pessimistic Jenny: I'm not holding my breath. I've had so many disappointments so far, it's hard to imagine things actually working the way they should. I haven't even "put in my time" yet. We've only been trying for 14 months and most women with PCOS take longer than that.
Hungry Jenny: Is it time for a snack yet?

Spineless

I've always been a firm believer that the best time to look for a new job is when you don't need a new job. Though I'm happy with what I'm doing now, I've learned that the only way to move ahead is to look out for yourself. Which may explain why I'm with my sixth company in ten years.
To that end, I get daily updates from monster.com about what else is available in the market. It keeps me up to date on which companies are hiring and, sometimes, the salary range for comparable jobs.
I got a listing today that I thought was interesting:
Field Sales Specialist for Spinal Surgery
How great would it be if this was a door-to-door sales position?
"Excuse me Miss, I hate to bother you, but our warehouse just received an overstock of spines and we're prepared to offer them at below sticker price, including installation."
"I'm listening..."
"Well, ma'am, these are the finest spines on the market. No scoliosis in the lot. These are guaranteed not to rust, rupture, or leak in the first five years or your money back. Our fine surgeons will have you and your family in and out in about an hour. It's very similar to getting new glasses, except for it's excruiating."
"It sounds like a good deal, but I should talk to my husband about it first..."
"Ma'am, I don't mean to be rude, but I have plenty of other people who are interested in these spines. If you don't want them, then I'll just say good day to you and be on my way..."
"No, no! Wait. I'll take four!"
"Excellent!"
See, that's how they getcha. Lousy fast-talkin' spine swindlers.

Super Hot Sunday

We all know Tom Brady is hot. No, it's true. It's kind of unavoidable. But he's not the only quarterback playing in the Super Bowl this weekend--football rules inconveniently dictate that the other team must put one under center as well--and thus it's not fair that Tommy Boy snags all the attention. So, as both a sports fan and voyeur of attractive gentlemen, I turn my attention to Eli Manning vs. Tom Brady to see which one has the edge in all areas. Including where those spandex pants are concerned.
Tabloid Appeal: Tom Brady has been all over the rags this year, thanks to his baby-mama drama with Bridget Moynahan and his ensuing photo-friendly relationship with Gisele. Whereas I only know from Wikipedia that Eli Manning is engaged; "Giants QB Really Digs College Sweetheart" probably won't move any magazines unless he knocks her up with some baby joy. At Tom Brady's house.
Advantage: Tom. Unless you prefer keeping your private life private, but what's the fun there?
Commercial Appeal: Eli is never in an ad without his family, including a recent Oreo ad with his ubiquitous brother, Colts QB Peyton Manning-who, of course, gets the laugh line. On the other hand, Tom has endorsed everything from the Gap to Stetson cologne (shirtless!) and presumably get fierceness tips from his supermodel girlfriend.
Advantage: Tom. Although the Oreo is a fine, fine cookie.
Physical Appeal: Less inately suave, Eli comes off like a guy at a bar who'd attempt a clumsy pick up line, blush furiously, then stare at the floor, which could be endearing. Except, you know, he wouldn't be picking up women at bar, period. Tom, however, is-technically speaking-smoking hot. (Though, according to a poll published in the Boston Globe, of all places, women think Manning will look better on HD) On the field Brady gets an assist from the Pats uniforms, whose shiny football pants in either silver or blue perfectly hug the, shall I say, athletic posterior. The Giants need to ditch their unflattering dishwater-dull gray ones, pronto.
Advantage: Tom, thanks in part to his pants. On many levels, perhaps.
Mental Fortitude: It sucks to be the lesser Manning. But let's not diminish Brady's pain. Tom has bravely endured a battery of fierce compliments, proclaimations annoiting him an all-time great, and vicious accusations that he's peerlessly brilliant and driven. It's so hard.
Advantage: Eli. Heavy expectations all around, but Eli has less to lose and everything to win.
Pedigree: Brady plays like a top draft pick, but in fact, the guy was pick #199 and never locked down a starting job in college. Whereas Eli famously went first overall to San Diego. And then there's his family.
Advantage: Eli. He's not the best-known Manning, but neither is Tom the best-known Brady. That honor goes to Marcia.
Final Verdict: Game and set to Eli; let's see if he can take the match.

Shocking Developements

There are many, many reasons that I despise Winter, but right there near the top of the list, after finger-freezing cold and frozen snotsickles, is static electricity. Nature has created several things that I don't begin to understand-nipples on men, for example-but static electricity is one of the most annoying. As I sit here working in my office today, surrounded by electricical equipment, I feel confident in saying that I will likely be killed by a bright blue arcing bolt of current the next time I unwittingly shuffle across the room and touch anything with metal on it. I've now shocked myself approximately 2,546 times in the last three days. There are black burn marks on my fingers from being zapped. At some point the jolts are going to upset the normal Motownesque beating of my heart, causing an arrhythmia that will leave me cursing and twitching on the floor like I'm in an early '90s Prince video.

Lend Me Your Tack Hammer & I'll Give It Right Back

I got in this morning and my voicemail light was flashing so before I even had a chance to throw my purse on the ground or spit on anything, I pushed my voicemail button. And it just beeped at me.
I've pushed the button maybe forty thousand times between eight-fifteen and now, and each time it just beeps at me. I just got an email explaining that "the voicemail PC is in need of a new power supply" and it might be fixed tomorrow.
I'm trying to figure out whether I should carefully pry my phone open with a box cutter? Or just slam it open against my desk? BECAUSE THE LIGHT IS FLASHING AND I HAVE A VOICEMAIL IN THERE.

It's WHAT?!

So I just looked at this project plan I'm working on and I thought, Oh Crap! This says 2008.
Wait, what year is it?
I checked my calender in Outlook.
Yep, sure enough. It's 2008.
Shouldn't there have been some kind of formal notice about it being 2008 and not 2007? Did I miss an email?
Lord, I do miss my brain so.

You Might Be Infertile If......

If somebody has asked you the date and you said Day 21.
If you have ever counted 1,2,3 after sex, and thrown your ankles above your head for an absurd amount of time.
If you forget the entire world doesn't know what a HCG shot is.
If you have ever had to flip over your pillow because it is tear soaked.
If it has felt strange to not take off your clothes at a doctors appointment.
If you've had three people in a room look at your hoo-haa and it did not make you uncomfortable.
If you circle the days to have sex on your planner.
If you have ever seen your internal organs on a plasma TV. (At least once or sometimes twice a month!)
If the sound of an infant's cry is the equivalent to pure torture.
If you've put your feet up in stirrups more times than you've had sex in a week.
If you've played the "I'll be pregnant by then" game for longer than a year.
If you've ever been caught staring longingly at a pregnant woman's belly.
If you feel the need to check your underwear more times in an hour than Britney gets photographed.
If hearing the words "baby dust" sends you into a raging tizzy.
If you know more about your reproductive organs and the female body than all of your girlfriends combined.
If getting pregnant doesn't technically need to involve sex.
If you measure your life in two week increments.
If you avoid alcohol, smoking, hot baths, hot tubs, saunas, caffeine, and question "When are you going to have children?" like the plague.
If you can't remember life before prenatal vitamins.
If you glare at parents who don't truly appreciate their children, and scowl at the ones who complain.
If you actually hate one of your body parts.
If your husband has gotten some mid-morning delight, and it wasn't with you, or in your bedroom.
If you know how thick your uterus is, how many sperm your husband has, and how many follicles you have.
If you find it a miracle that people somehow manage to get pregnant.
If you have had to leave a movie theater or change the TV station.
If you have ever yelled at Grey's Anatomy or ER for completely misrepresenting the truth.
If you have ever wondered if you are actually having sex wrong.
If the word cycling has nothing to do with riding a bike.
If you could swear that anybody standing within a hundred feet could hear your biological clock ticking.
If two weeks out of the month your spouse treats you like you are made of glass.
If sometimes when people talk about their children you are reduced to tears.
If you've ever considered hugging a pregnant woman just so a bit of that "something" would rub off on you.
If birthdays, holidays, and special events are just one more reminder that you have one less year to cross the reproductive finish line.
If you can tell a 23 gauge and a 25 gauge needle apart at 40 paces.
If you've gone to bed at 12 midnight during the work week, just to do a shot, and it wasn't the alcoholic variety.
If you feel a very real physical pain in your chest when thinking about the worst case scenario.

Sorry for the rant....
Can you tell I just got back from my 6th doctors appointment since the New Year and I am feeling a little frustrated????????

Finale

We have nearly come to the end. It a bit of genius television programming, CBS has scheduled the season finale of the Amazing Race to go up against the NFC Championship game-a move that should get some executive fired by midnight Sunday night. Brett Favre vs. Daddy is really no contest. For one, Brett isn't a creepy jerk. There are other examples. Regardless, I had to watch it last night once I returned from my Grandma's memorial service.
We lost our chance to see Jen and Nate lose on the very final leg of the race, as they were eliminated last week. It was pointed out that there was a certain charm to seeing Jen get eliminated on her birthday, however. Regardless, they are now dead, so we must move forward.
We're now forced to root for Team Daddy. Team Hippie, and Team Greatest Generation.
Here we go!
It's always nice to have a review of the full season to remind us how far we've come and how much crying and pissing and moaning we've endured. Truly, we deserve a million dollars. I will graciously accept the money on behalf of us all.
We're all rooting for the hippies to win, right? I mean, it's either them or Team GG, and frankly I cannot approve of giving someone that old a half a million dollars. He'll just blow it on Viagra and Bran. Though nobody wants Team Daddy to win, let's not forget that CBS set up the whole redemption of Daddy so that when they DO win, we won't dislike them as much. Only we all still do dislike them.
We start the last leg in Taipei, which, it has been pointed out, is technically part of China, but I think we can all agree that it would be better as Japan II. The first leg will take them back to American soil in Anchorage, Alaska. They just said it was their final destination city. That can't be where the races ends is it?
It cracks me up that the hippies went to the airline desk at the airport and asked, "Have you seen people like us here yet?" Have we seen a skeleton and pot dealer? No. In what way are they like anyone?
Team Daddy is hiding in the China Airlines Executive Club and they used the Internet to find out more info about their first destination. Everyone freaking out about where Team Daddy is, as they assume they may have gotten on an earlier plane. The typical panic ensues.
All teams are on the same flight to Alaska, just to be fair, for once. That has screwed at least one team in the past and that's no way to end a season. All teams should have a chance to actually finish, rather than get hosed by some airline mess.
As teams prepare for the final leg in Alaska, Stretch from Team GG says. "I've seen Ron (Daddy) run and he's like a ninja," I'm not sure what that means. Fast? Stealthy? Can he run up trees?
After everyone arrives in AK, they discover they have to get to an outfitter store and then a boat launch. Wait, did they just say it's called Shit Creek Boat Launch? OOO-oooh- SHIP Creek. Well, that's too bad. That would've been the perfect end to the race to have everyone paddle up Shit Creek without any oars.
Team GG went to the outfitters and didn't take their gear bag! Idiots! That will probably cost them the win.
First challenge is: Cut the Cod or Crab the Crab. AR producers, you clever rhyming men.
Disgusting! You either have to cut through several enormous dead cod looking for a small clue in a little metal pill box or sort through live crab in a live well full of water. Phil says teams may find themselves in a pinch. Ha!
Team Daddy looks like they're pretty far ahead of everyone else, but this task could really equalize the teams. Whoa! They took the Cut the Cod task and found the clue right away!! Well, crap, it looks like they're gonna run away with this race. The other teams aren't even there yet.
Team GG is totally screwed by not picking up the bag of gear. They're heading back to the store, and they're not happy with each other. Each one is kinda blaming the other. I hope that this doesn't put them out of it, but don't see how it can't. What am I saying? This is the Amazing Race, of course they're not out of it.
Team Hippie is going for Grab the Crab.
Sissy from Team Daddy says, "We're a good team now, We've come along way." Whatever, yo. They are so setting them up to be the winners, I'm really getting angry. Nobody changes their personality because of a vacation!
Grabbing crabs looks painful. Lots of pinching going on.
Team GG is back from getting their gear and Team Hippie is still at the Grab the Crab challenge. Gramps has decided that he's gonna gut some fish. Apparently he's some sort of master gutter? I don't know.
The Hippies were gonna switch from Crab to Cod, but Dirty Hippie found the right crab just in time. And that leaves Team GG at the challenge alone.
Whoa, hold on, Gramps found the clue in the fish pretty fast. They're still in last, but only 3-4 minutes behind (their estimation).
According to the Hippies, Team Daddy is about 20 minutes ahead of them. There's no way they can make up the time, unless Team Daddy totally craps out on the next challenge.
The next task is to ice climb a glacier.
Annnnd, the Hippie's cab doesn't know where the next task is. Ugh. Go!!!
Team GG and the Hippies are neck and neck. Team Daddy is at the Glacier already.
Skinny Hippie loves how much fun she has with Dirty Hippie. Aww, come on, you have to love those two stoned kids, don't you? I actually believe that they like each other.
Daddy is afraid of heights, so he isn't in love with the idea of climbing a glacier even though it's over water. I'm not a big fan of heights either, so I hear ya, dogg.
Daddy says he's afraid of falling. Well, sure, that's the thing about heights. They're high.
Sissy is stuck at the bottom of the glacier. She can't make it over the first hump. And there's only one hump. Of course, she yells out, "Daddy!" in exasperation. Also, she looks ridiculous- her butt all hanging out over the edge. She finally makes it up because it "pulled her through to know that (her) Dad was going to receive her at the top." Receive her? What? Creepy.
Team Hippie is getting to the glacier just as Team Daddy is done climbing.
Next is a helicopter ride to the next task. I'm starting to get a little excited, honestly. I am embarrassed by how much I like this show.
The Hippies made it up the glacier pretty quickly and now they're on the next helicopter. They're busy making out in the helicopter. Perverts.
Okay, the next challenge! Road Block- Teams must organize items from all previous legs of the race in a certain order. It's all very complex and I can't possibly explain it all. It's starting to hurt my brain. Bottom line, there's a million items, but only 10 exact ones fit the requirement order/configuration. It. Be. Hard. Surely this will equalize the playing field? Maybe? I am hoping that Team Daddy won't be first?
Only one member of the team can work on it, so Sissy is doing the task, because she's smart and Daddy can blame her if she screws up. It's win-win.
The Hippies have caught up and Skeletor is doing it for the Hippies. I would've thought Dirty would've done it, because he could have communed with nature to divine the right answer. Dirty says, "She's really smart." Okay, I'll believe that when I see it.
And now Team GG is there! Nick (Stretch) is doing the task for them.
The good news is it's any one's game now!
Wow, the teams are really getting screwed at this task. They're all basically tied, trying to figure it out. They've all submitted answers that are wrong and once that happens, they're really frustrated because there really only appears to be one way to answer this "puzzle". Someone will Ah-Ha their way out of it. My money is on Sissy, she's been the closest and she's not high.
Whoo-Hoo!!! Skeletor got it! Go Team Hippie!!
Teams must now find the Captain Cook statue in Anchorage to get their next clue.
Sissy figured out the puzzle next, but she screamed, "Daddy" as she left, thinking that she just cost them the race. I feel bad for her. He's supportive, but right now as they're watching this, I'll bet he's blaming her.
Teams next have to find the Salmon Hooker (Ha) statue in downtown Anchorage. On foot. Gah!
Hippies appear to be in first, but Team Daddy has the better cab. They've both found the fish statue. It says to go to the finish line. This is it! I forgot how intense these finales are! I'm irrationally excited!!!!
Now to the finish line! Hippies are still in first!!
Gaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!! Wait, there's Team Daddy!!!
C'mon Hippies!
Daddy says he learned to be a better person. Whatever!
Run Hippies Run!!!
Yes!
10 cities, 4 continents, nearly 30, 000 miles, TK and Rachel, you are the official winners of the Amazing Race!! Whoo-Hoo, Hippies win!!!
I love this show all over again.

A Light Dusting

Growing up on the wide, flat plains of Illinois, there was one thing that I could count on every winter: it was going to be cold. Not cold as in, "Wow, my boogers are freezing right in my nose!" Frankly, if your boogers freeze in your nose, ya put on a swimsuit and go get a tan. New definitions of temperature are necessary in the Midwest. Illinois is routinely so cold that it is not uncommon to ask, "Should my finger be blue like this?"
The Midwest winter is a Beast. An actual Beast. It takes on a persona that people learn to fear and hate.
"This winter is really out to get us this year, isn't it?"
"Mommy, is the weather trying to kill us?"
"This weather has no mercy. It's just heartless."
"I hate this winter. Seriously, I hate it."
Given this (and for many other reasons) I knew from a very young age that I had to get out. I dreaded the Beast. The only possible advantage to the cold is that it gives you a reason to get drunk and forget, but believe me when I tell you that when you live in Illinois, you don't need one more reason to get drunk and forget. So I got out. Right after High School, I packed up my Ma's ride and headed south to North Carolina. Land of milk and honey. Well, technically, the Land of Pepsi and Kudzu, but close enough.
Here's the thing: I think that the Beast wanted me to leave. Pushed me out, in fact. My first Christmas Break back home, the temperature, with wind chill, was over ninety degrees below zero. Again, I say, below zero. The scales surpassed the "skin freezes on contact" phase and dipped below the "full-body ice cream headache" mark and plummeted past the "Hey! Where did my big toe go?" level. We officially hit the "You have got to be f-ing kidding me" line. I prefer to think that the Beast was giving me one final reminder that leaving home was the right thing to do, but looking back now, I guess it makes more sense that the Beast was actually trying to kill me, so that I could never leave. I have been back home many times since and the Beast has never hit quite as hard as it did that day. I won.
Now, after living in the South for many years, my blood having gone from a thick, gooey molasses to a light and slick olive oil, I have been transformed metabolically into a warm weather junkie. But I earned it. I defeated the Beast. I've got a necklace made of its teeth.
And now, after so much painful exposition, I come to the point of my ramblings. Here in the Greensboro area today, schools were cancelled and people stayed home from work. It is around 34 degrees (ABOVE ZERO!) here with a light dusting of snow. But mostly rain. And by a "light dusting", I mean that if it was snowing cocaine, one could not catch a buzz by snorting the entire interstate. With the wind chill, it might reach 20 degrees tonight. Might. In Illinois, we call this weather, "Spring."
I am forced to wonder what kind of pantywaists we are raising in this country. If kids are given a free pass when the weather is uncomfortable or the roads are dusty, what are they gonna do when faced with a real problem? I'll tell ya what: they are gonna pee themselves. And then we've got a nation of thin-blooded, wet-panted sissies that are afraid of a thermometer.
And the Beast loves that. It looks for wet-panted sissies and sends tornadoes to their trailer parks. The Beast will find you and make you pay. Oh yes. You. Will. Pay.
Man, that last paragraph would sound so cool if you could get that guy that does movie trailers to read it.
Fear the Beast!

Maybe you actually CAN be too careful

I was driving home from work last night when Tom Petty's American Girl came on the radio. Thirty seconds in, I realized I was making a deliberate and conscious effort not to sing along. Because obviously if you're alone and driving and singing along to American Girl, when you get home you'll just have to deal with some scary handicapped dude parked in your driveway who needs your help loading a crappy sofa into the back of his van. And I think we all know how that ends.

Ten

Now I know why I shouldn't do a review every season of AR. A season never appears to end.
However, we are getting close to the end and one assumes a righteous God will strike down one or all of these competitors in a glorious blaze of justice. Or maybe nothing quite that graphic, let us hope Daddy turns an ankle.
Sunday night promised to mercifully get us down to the final three teams, who will then race to the finish in next week's season finale.
Let's just jump right in....
The Hippies are WAY in last after last week's major debacle with their flight. They aren't stressed, however and I think we all know why. I speak, of course, of the Guatemalan Green Grass Mojumbo. See, the great thing about pot is that you can make up completely plausible variations in seconds! I mean, that's ONE of the great things about pot.
Though Nate and Jen wanted to be in first, wanting doesn't always get you there. We are reminded that this week will include a speed bump for the Hippies. That means they'll be even further behind at some point. But, you know what? This is the Amazing Race and they LOVE to get teams caught up or it's not much of a race.
Okay, we're off!
Sissy says Daddy is trying harder. I don't buy it. If you have to try SO HARD to stop being a jerk, then it is really going to work? That's what they teach you at AA.
This race day just happens to be Jen's birthday. She has informed us that now the race IS ON! They are not playing "nice Jen and Nate" anymore. Wait, they were playing the NICE Jen and Nate? When was that exactly?
Teams are on their way to their first clue. Ah, of course. The teams arrive at the first clue to discover that the building doesn't open until 10 AM, which will conveniently allow the Hippies to catch up. I never buy this, because that's not the permanent sign for that building, it's put there by AR producers to change the outcome of the game. Which I guess is okay, because I like Team Hippie.
Gramps is sad because he can't run fast. He should be eligible to be pushed in a wheelchair.
Teams find out they have to fly to Taipei.
Sissy speaking Japanese sure is a nice perk. Anyone else think it's more than a little unfair that they speak the language of the location of the two of final legs of race? I mean, c'mon, getting a cab alone has to take five minutes less when you can tell the driver where you want to go.
Nick and Gramps from Team GG are spunky. Nick just said, "We've been playing the game like bitches so far and so has everyone else." He's disgusted with the lackluster competition. Yeah, so is the viewing audience, Nick. If it wasn't for Jen and Nate, we all would've have turn off the TV by now.
I don't honestly believe that Nate thinks Taiwan is home to Thai people and food. That has to be a joke. He may be a jerk, but he's not that stupid, I hope.
The Hippies continue to be slowed by the fact that the entire world is totally in slow motion right now, dude.
Jen's special day is off to a roaring start, as Nate says something about what a whiner she is and she replies, "I can't believe you're going to be this mean to me on my birthday, I didn't even do anything." This is the problem with people that are chronic morons. They don't have to do anything, because their mere existence justifies any animosity.
Team Daddy is on the first flight to Taiwan, then Team GG and Nate and Jen are on the second flight. Hippies are on the third flight, which can't bode well for their chances. It's not that much later of a flight, however, so we'll see.
Well, there you have it, the Hippies caught up at immigration at the airport in Taipei. Basically, all teams but Team Daddy are tied for second.
Jen is particularly upset with Team Hippie this week. She doesn't feel that their existence, either in life or this race, is justified. She says she "wants to rip the dreads out" of the head of the Hippie King.
According to Daddy, "trains in Japan run like German clockwork." And German cars run like Japanese massage parlors. Always a happy ending.
Nate and Jen better be in the final three. They are the only personality left on the show. Mean, sad, and frustrated is better than nothing.
The first road block is insane and I'm not even going to explain it, because if you aren't watching the show by now, that's your own damn fault. But take my word for it, it was awesome. It involved people almost pooping their pants in fear.
Team GG seems to dislike the Hippies too. They want to shave some hippie beard.
Daddy looked terrified on the car roadblock thingie there. It's always amusing to see people in genuine terror.
The Amazing Race is now officially trying to turn The Redemption of Daddy into the story of the season. This only points to the fact that they will probably win the whole thing, because then they can say, Wow, this team really overcame its problems and deserved to win. I'm not buying it. He's a jerk and that won't change. Don't insult my intelligence AR, I've got a tenuous enough hold on reality as it is. Plus, his t-shirts are unforgivable.
Nate laughs like a dorkwad. A cross between Horseshack and a dying llama.
The aforementioned speed bump challenge for Team Hippie involves fireworks madness. Again, not gonna explain. There are fireworks and there is madness. You play with the visual in your mind.
Gramps, during the car road block, "I hope the f-in' brakes work in this thing." That's pretty much exactly what I would've been screaming.
Is it just me or is everyone pronouncing Taipei wrong? Have I been wrong all my life? It is Tie Pay, isn't it? Not Tap Eye?
Jen tried begging from the bottom of her heart. As if she has a heart.
Team GG, Team Hippie, and Nate and Jen are all on the same train to the next task and Jen is stressing.
Jen, "I just don't understand why we're working so hard. TK and Rachael are just slacking off."
Looks like a foregone conclusion that Team Daddy are gonna be in first.
Jen is still stressed as they get off the train, "This is the most intense part of the race, right here." One of these three teams will be eliminated like a bad Mexican burrito.
Nate is, as always, sympathetic, "We don't want to go out on Jenny's birthday." Oh, it's Jenny now?
How fair is it that Sissy can read Japanese when a task involves learning to read Japanese? Anyone?
Time for Detour- Fire or Earth.
Fire is lighting Japanese Sky Lanterns (20). Lame-O.
Earth- Teams must walk down a 220 foot path made of protruding stones, barefoot, and then return on the same path. The stones look a little painful to walk on, hence the challenge.
Team Daddy completes the Earth challenge, no problem. They are rock solid at #1.
Team Hippie is doing the Earth challenge next, though well behind Team Daddy.
Jen continues to stress out.
Japanese people do add a nice comic touch to the English language. Find a cow? A clown? A crow?
Sissy is beaming as they arrive at the pit stop in first. She can't believe how close she and her Daddy are now. Whatever!!! I'm now actively rooting against them. It's not a coincidence that they're getting along better than the last two weeks- They've been in first the last two weeks!! What's to fight about???
Nate and Jen were told by a local to take the subway to the next challenge. They're the only team doing that, so it could definitely be a mistake as all the remaining teams are pretty much tied. Neither is confident in the subway decision.
Jen, to Nate, "You need to step up and make the decisions. You're the man."
Nate, "Honestly, Jen, I can't stand you. All you do is freak out. You are a trip. You're the one who got us into this mess." By which he means, the race, the relationship, and the subway decision. "I can't believe you. You're such a poor teammate."
Jen, now with the guilt trip, "Thanks for ruining my birthday. All I asked for was for you to be nice to me today."
"I don't think that's possible."
The dirty hippie is doing well on the Earth challenge.
Back to Jen and Nate arguing in the middle of the street in downtown Tapeye, Jen says. "We need to stay positive right now." Yeah, she's the expert on that.
Nate is having trouble on the stone path. Jen says. "You can do it, just be light on your toes."
Oh no, it comes down to this- teams are having trouble getting a taxi again.
Team Hippie is in second!
Skeleton Hippie; "Anybody who says we haven't been trying- we've been trying our best the whole time."
Team GG in third!!
"Nate and Jen, I'm sorry to tell you you're the last team to arrive."
Jen and Nate are elimiNated! Nated. Get it?
Just as Phil tells them they are the last team to arrive, Nate shouts, "Awwwww Fuuuuuuuudge."
And now for the moment we never saw coming, Jen says, "I think we killed our relationship on the race." What? That's crazy talk.
Nate's crying. Jen hugs him...aaaannnddd scene.
Season Finale next week!!!! Tune in for the madness.

For Better or BLAHBLAHBLAH

You know you've reached a special phase of your marriage when you want to bring a video camera into the bedroom. To see which one of you is ACTUALLY stealing the comforter at night.
The covers are on my side because you shove them over there!!!!
Seriously, the vows never mentioned any of this.

Toga

Certainly, there has been no shortage of moments in Katie Holmes' life in recent years that have made me go, "Wait, SERIOUSLY?" And that's just from the couch jumping and the engagement and pregnancy and wedding and fashion-embracing and Posh-befriending; it doesn't even include anything that's happened behind closed doors. Not that I'm implying her husband is odd or anything. He's totally normal to me. Everyone I know leaps onto their living room set at least twice daily. Furniture is a thrill.
At any rate, all things considered, nothing should surprise me with her any more. Yet somehow I still caught myself saying aloud this morning, "Wait....SERIOUSLY? Since when did Katie Holmes become someone who could pull off a TOGA?"

Let me clarify: The dress itself does nothing for me. It definitely has the whiff of bed sheet about it, like maybe her exuberant husband grabbed one off the bed and ran around her twice and then screamed, "GLORIOUS," before hitting his head on the four-poster bed and passing out cold.
But Katie IN the dress...this I like. Granted, her first best move was to realize that America loves Suri, and that she should reinvent her cranium in her wee sprog's image. They are seriously ever-more spitting images of one another. As for the dress, though, it kind of takes on a Quality on her body. It's still kind of boring to me on its own merits, and I think on a lot of people I'd be wailing and pulling out my hair. Katie, though, looks really rather pretty. The makeup is tasteful, her bod is amazing- I would like very much to borrow her shoulders, if she's looking to broaden her range of charitable acts--and although the shoes are fairly standard, they ALSO appear to fit her, make her legs look fabulous, and don't overshadow the overall look. As a result, I glance at the dress, but inevitably my attention turns to her hair, her face, her skin, her figure, and the fact that I am pretty sure she is eleven feet tall. And that's how it should be. The dress isn't wearing her; she, bluntly put, is wearing the crap of it. So you go, Suri-Katie Holmes-Cruise. In my eyes, you won this one.
And feel free to have another kid, because you did a bang-up job the first time. I'm just saying. Think of our needs.

Nine

Dude, I know. Two weeks of no Amazing Race coverage is like the End Times. But it was the holidays, CBS can't show a television show at the time slot in which it's scheduled, our DRV had to be unplugged while we were on vacation, and I'm like 53 pounds overweight. So, perspective, people.
Here's what you need to know: Two weeks ago, on Christmas Eve Eve, nobody was eliminated because it was Jesus's birthday. I heard the episode was lame. People missed planes and then caught up and then everyone sighed a big heavy WHEW! So, you know, VASTLY different from every other week.
Last week, I didn't even watch at all because, I was on a plane returning home. From the written recap on CBS.com (which doesn't even have past episodes of AR online, but sure can post David Caruso squinting his way through another Miami bloodbath), I have determined that the Goths screwed up big time and got themselves eliminated. I know the Goths were the favorites of several of you (myself included), but let's face it, the prize money would've only gone to a mound of crystal meth and Cure remixes. That's no good for anyone.
So here we are with four teams left. I think there's one more non-elimination leg left, which I assumed would be Sunday night, before the teams go into the final three. Let us all say a little prayer (DO IT!) that Nathan and Jen make the final three and then are beaten at the very last second for first place in the finale, so that we can witness a murder/suicide on reality television.
I see we're starting this leg in Mumbai, which used to be Constantinople, but that's nobody's business but the Turks. Or something. The point is, I'm suspicious that I've missed the requisite complaining from the teams about how bad it smells and how there's cows buying Prada bags in the street. Someone feel free to update me if I missed out these last two weeks. In terms of cleanliness Mumbai is truly the Bombay of India.
It appears that the Hippies have stumbled their way into first, which is rather good news considering that I would rather lose my wee-wee-wee toe than see any of the other teams win.
The racers must begin this leg by making their way to Osaka, Japan. Heads up, I will continue to not be able to pronounce the names of any locations in that country either. If there's one thing that Amazing Race has taught us, it's that most countries don't have the common courtesy to name their cities and roads after American Presidents. Shameful.
Just as a brief update on the state of mind of Team Hippie: Anorexic Hippie loves her hairy boyfriend.
We've been informed that the racers have $414 for this leg of the race. No idea why; it's inconsequential.
Gramps from Team Greatest Generation is having a tough time keeping up with his young whippersnapper of a grandson. I guess I kind of like this team too. I'm suspicious that Gramps is mildly racist, but hey, everyone knows that once you turn 60 you're allowed to dislike people based on color of skin, religion, and length and fit of ones pants. It's what makes being old worthwhile. That and the sponge baths.
Gramps is excited about Japan. He says when he was in the service he wanted to go there. To kill people, one assumes? Let's hope someone has told him the war is over or this leg could get dicey. Wait, I've done the math here and he wasn't even 10 during WWII, so maybe he's not looking to go after the Emperor or whatever they did in the Great War.
On Team Daddy, the dysfunction continues. Luckily, for this leg of the race we learn that Sissy has spent time in Japan learning Japanese. Let's hope this prevents Daddy from striking her for being stupid. Although I'm SURE everything will be alright now, because Daddy has admitted that he is wrong in the way he treats her. He doesn't want to beat her, but sometimes she just provokes him, is what I'm hearing. Please forgive him.
Ugh, Nate and Jenn kissed to begin this leg. Jen says their biggest obstacle to overcome is DO what they SAY they're going to do. And, obviously, not murder one another in their sleep. They're shiny-happy all of the sudden and it makes me not like them even more.
Great! In order to get airline tickets, the teams have to deal with Indian customer support, IN INDIA, and face to face appears to be better than any of the phone support I ever get. I'm pretty sure that phone accent is fake.
For some reason, a four star general delivered the airline tickets to Team Hippie. Was that guy auditioning for a Michael Jackson video or what? If you saw the episode, you would know what I mean. What the hell?
Daddy is arguing with the agent and Sissy, differentiating between direct and non-stop. I'm sure this is a critical point, and I'm sure I don't know why. Direct and non-stop are the same, as far as I know. Maybe the stuff is different in India. She scolds him in a different language, which is just funnier. I see that whole resolution to be a better Daddy lasted all of about 5 milliseconds.
When the hippies get to the airline counter, they ask, "Has there been anyone like us here yet?". Uh, no, there are no other skeletons or white Rastafarians popping about.
STILL with the Who's Your Daddy shirts? Please stop.
Now Daddy says, "I would like to be a father that could change overnight, but blah, blah, blah, this race is a difficult situation." Yes, we all know that it is a long and difficult road back from being a jerk.
That Mumbai to Osaka flight doesn't look like it's too much fun. What is about 800 hours?
Hippies are on a totally different flight than everyone else, leaving first, stopping three times. They appear to be worried. Could be way out in front, could be dead last.
Okay, well, it's immediately obvious that they are screwed apparently. All other teams come in on the flight ahead of them. I don't know what the heck happened that made them think they were on a better flight that made THREE stops.
Nate and Jen are the first from the airport.
I have a feeling that being able to speak Japanese may help just a tad during this leg. Expect big things from Team Daddy.
Gramps thinks Japan is a clean and wonderful country. He's right, it looks pretty amazing.
Nobody knows where the hippies are, but Daddy's gut feel is that the hippies are behind them. And he's got a hernia, so I guess we should trust his gut?
Gramps says, "Anything is possible on the race!", to which Nick says, "Man, that's so cliche". Someone had to say it.
Teams must find a train station cleaning man. That's exciting, AR. This is where the show really starts to lag in later episodes. Let's hope there's a runaway bus somewhere in Osaka.
Gramps is really worried about Sissy, because she speaks Japanese (he assumes) and she's from "some big falutin' college." It's Princeton, and yes, their motto is "We're pret' Damn High Falutin', Ya'll. Come on Down and Study a Spell!"
Thing you didn't know before today: Japanese cabs have crazy fancy side view mirrors.
Why the heck are Nate and Jen so happy all of the sudden? What kind of Indian Poppies did the Hippies share with them?
The first task- Become a Japanese taxi driver.
Man, being a Japanese cabbie is like being royalty or something. The career hierarchy in the Japanese class system: Cab Drive, Karaoke Singer, Doctor, Hello Kitty Collector, General Businessman. Make a note.
Jen has to take time out to see how hot she is in the taxi cab hat they are making her wear.
Daddy continues to be supportive, as his daughter is doing the taxi driving task: "Christina is not very good at driving, she doesn't have a good sense of direction." Oh well, you know women.
This task will suck. They can't take a local with them for directions and Japan is strangely a mass of one way streets. Let's hope they mean one way in different directions and not all in the same direction, because that would make things considerably more difficult.
Sissy says she only uses public transportation. She not doing a ton for the reputation of Asian Female drives, who are normally impeccable drivers. (Cough)
Jen is bummed because everything in Japan is in Japanese. The nerve of them.
After much hassle, Jen completes the task and is moving on to a 16th century Buddhist temple.
Jen is excellent at communicating to their new cab driver, who does not speak a lick of English, "We are in a- LOOK AT ME (pointing to her eyes)- we are in a RACE!" As she's saying this, she's swinging her arms like Jesse Owens in the '36 Olympics.
Nick is lost and mixed up. It's easier to land a plane than it is to drive in Osaka, according to him. But could he drive a plane in Osaka? That is not known. He stuck dead in the middle of traffic, causing a jam. Do the Japanese swear and wish you a horrible, painful death when you screw up traffic or is that just a wonderfully American trait? Or is that a wonderful my Husband trait?
All teams have finished the first task just as the Hippies arrive in Osaka. If this isn't a non-elimination leg, the Hippies are totally screwed here.
Nate cannot listen to Jen and watch someone drive at the same time. He's got the brain of a squirrel. You can really see the hatred in her eyes for him there, like she's thinking, "I wonder what laws are for pushing someone out a moving cab in Japan?"
Daddy and Sissy's cab is about 29 seconds from dying, just to make things interesting. He's wheezing like an old Asian cabbie. Oh, that's where that expression comes from!
Next stop- Sense of Touch versus Sense of Smell. Teams can either try to control robots to score a soccer goal by cell phone or search for one real flower among a frilion fake flowers just on smell alone. It is a dumb as it sounds and I'm really not liking this leg of the race.
Jen says that she "frickin' has the nose of a bloodhound", so they will smell their way through the flowers.
Team Daddy is going for smell too. Team GG is going for robots.
Gramps says, "Son of a bitch! I'm not very good at this because I don't do video games." Except for the whole part where this is robots and cell phones, he's got a good point.
As they are smelling their way along, Nate yells at Jen, "Would you just be quiet and smell? All I hear is you talking!" He wants to hear more smelling, I guess? Squirrel brain.
Gramps and Nic have to score a robotic goal a piece. Don't make me explain, I'm very tired.
Nate and Jen are in first. They found the flower because of her bloodhoundedness.
Daddy tells Sissy to Shut Up! after she whispers that she found the flower. He's really pushing hard for Father of The Year.
Though Nate and Jen are in first, Sissy and Daddy find a taxi at the pit stop first. Jen is not happy. Finally. It's just not worth watching if she's going to be in a good mood.
Jen keeps doing the arm flailing motion to indicate they are in a race. I don't think it's a universal symbol.
As they find a cab, Nate pushes Jen into the back seat so they can get going:
"I cannot believe you just friggin' pushed me!"
"I didn't push you."
"That could cost us."
"No, it couldn't' t! Just be positive!"
Ah, young love in Japan. Such a beautiful sight.
Sissy and Daddy are in first because they got a cab. And they won electric vehicles, which are not described in any way, shape, or form which I guess means some kind of sponsorship fell through or something? I don't know. Sissy says that Daddy didn't lose his temper once this leg, NOT ONCE. Except for when he did. How soon they forget the direct vs. non-stop arguments of yore.
Nate and Jen are #2. According to Jen, it is on.
Nate (with tremendous confidence): "The best team is going to finish last, and that's going to be Jen and I. Uh, I mean, finish the last leg first. Jen looking at him like he's mentally challenged.
Nick and Gramps are in third.
So the Hippies are way behind everyone, in last. Of course the dirty Hippie says, "I'm not going to allow myself to freak out about anything..."
And of course, none of it matters because it turns out that this is the last non-elimination leg, as I said. The Hippies are in last place, three hours behind all the other teams, plus they have a "speed bump" which is an extra task in the next leg. Probably won't make a bit of difference.
So, next week it's four teams racing to determine who will be in the final push for the Grande Finale. They better step it up with an ox or something next week, or I'm gonna be angry.

Little Grandma

Emerence Sells Anderson
September 10, 1906 - January 1, 2008

Myself, Grandma Madeline, and Great Grandma Anderson circa 1978

This New Years Day, my family lost it's matriarch, who lived to be 101 years old. My Great Grandmother (seen above in the background) was born in Belgium and immigrated to the city of Chicago in 1916. Emerence was born in 1906. The same year that the first Victor Victrola, a phonographic record player, was manufactured and President Theodore Roosevelt became the first US President to make an official trip outside the US while visiting the construction site of the Panama Canal.
Some events that occured within the span of her lifetime include: The First World War, both the rise and fall of the Berlin Wall, the Second World War, the Vietnam War, the first artificial heart invention, the Great Depression, the Gulf War, the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series, Kennedy's assassination, Apple Computer created, the Korean War, Chernobyl, Man landing on the Moon, and 9/11 changed our lives. Throughout these events, she managed to marry, own a business, raise a family, and survive the death of her husband, granddaughter, and great grandson. One child, three grandchildren and six great grand-children are her legacy.
I think I owe her for my fondness of correspondence. Throughout the years, she always made sure my mailbox was full of cards and letters. Holidays, birthdays, and special times were always remembered and it was comforting to know that I was always on her mind. During my years away at school, she would enclose a dollar in her envelope. This was the same amount that she gave my Dad when he was in college, back when a dollar stretched a little further! I believe that she may be the reason that I continue to send cards to those people who are important to me.
I leave for Fort Lauderdale next week to attend her memorial service. This side of my family has dwindled in size during recent decades and most of her friends have long since passed. It is important to me to be there to honor what a special Grandma she was. She was loved and will be missed.

Spa Treatment

After finally returning home from the holidays, I was sorting through something like ten days of stockpiled mail yesterday, when I came across a thin legal-sized envelope sent from a local spa. I'd used a gift certificate for a service there months ago, so for once I let the part of my brain screaming COUPONS! overrule the bigger part of my brain screaming COLLECTIONS! and I opted to open it rather than tear it in half and set it on fire. It was a business letter typed on formal letterhead admonishing me for not having returned to the spa for additional services.
"At the time of your service," it read snidely, "We recommended you schedule regular follow up appointments in order to maintain a high level of personal health." Having failed to make said appointments I was now, apparently, in danger of being mistaken for mold.
Wow, they seemed pretty mad at me, the spa people, pretty harsh. I reread the whole thing to make sure I didn't owe somebody some cash. But no, they were really just scolding me for neglecting my aesthetic health.
The treatment I'd gotten at the spa was a Vanilla Rose Sugar Glow body wrap. It was nice and all, kind of like being scrubbed down with a cupcake, but I'm pretty sure it didn't add anything noteworthy to my overall life span. It's not like I'm missing chemotherapy appointments or ditching my parole officer. Thanks for the tough love concern, spa, but from here on out I think I'll just so the best I can with Lever 2000 and a washcloth. If it helps you sleep at night, just tell yourself it's like methadone.
PS- Oh, and fire everyone if your marketing department immediately.