Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine, and at last you create what you will. -George Bernard Shaw
That's right, I've decided to restart my longtime dream blog with your standard dead guy quote. Not only that, I've chosen a quotation that is about imagination and creation, neither of which I've used in ripping off a dead Irishman. Also, Shaw won the Nobel Prize in literature and then turned down the money. I have no respect for that.
This is all obviously a desperate plea for attention. I think that I am important enough that people will care about the sometimes bizarre outside influences upon my everyday life, conversations, and relationships. Of course, I am delusional.
As with most blogs, this too will contain lists, rants, silliness, and shouts from the pulpit. I will be trying daily to expose a little more of myself (ahem) and hopefully I will receive some feedback on my ideas and writing. I promise only to be odd and occasionally amusing, as these are my only two consistent skills in life. Assuming oddity is a skill. If it's not, then I'm down to just one skill, and I really don't want to deal with that right now. So give me my Nobel Prize. I'll wear it around my neck like Flavor Flav. Big ups to the Nobel committee.
Oh, it's all downhill from here.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, April 28, 2008
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!
Monday, April 21, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
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.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
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
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
Monday, March 31, 2008
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
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
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
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?
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?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
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!!
A.) Make me famous
B.) Become my lackey
GET GOING ALREADY!!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
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.
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.Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, March 7, 2008
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?
"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?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
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.
"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.
Friday, February 29, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
For the Love of Juno
Since I can hear my friend Emily practically begging me to write about the Oscars, here goes:
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."
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."
Friday, February 22, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
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?
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?
Thursday, February 14, 2008
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.
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.
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