So, I occasionally glance at my Google Analytics info. for shits & giggles. I've gotta say, being the Follower of the Day over at LOTD kind of skewed my results last month, not that I'm complaining. I'm just saying that my blog got a lot more traffic than usual, and from a lot more sources. That being said, I got visitors from every single state in the U.S. except for a handful, and I'm callin' them out!
Wyoming: What are ya, too busy sexing up the cowboys to come read my blog? What's the dealio?! It's big sky country, I get that... but surely you have the internet there?
Vermont: My home state! I thought, of all states, you people would support me. BOOOO! On second thought, this is probably a good thing....
Maine: Well, I don't like you either. So there.
Rhode Island: That's a state?
Delaware: Hey. I'm in Delaware.
Of course, most of the visitors only came by once, but that's cool. I'm not everybody's cup o' tea, and that's fine by me. Besides, the readers/followers I do have are very loyal and VERY funny, so I'll take it. Yeah, I'm talkin' about YOU, so get yer finger out of your nose and look alive!
Now, since so many bloggers do this and I always think it's fun, I will share some of the Google search terms that brought people here. I must say, mine aren't that good compared to, say, Mala's or Matteroffactmommy's. Most people actually search for me specifically, so I got over 50 people Googling "Out of Bev's head." Hey man, that's cool. Ask for me by name! Nine out of ten doctors do. ;)
The other searches are good for a chuckle:
"jill caw" (BWAH! Jill - your bird lady caw is totally legendary!)
"load in her diaper" (Naturally)
"seymour butts" (Of course.)
"showing off the ass" (You know it.)
"turn him on at the office" (Ick - not at my office!)
"alexi murdoch" (Hells yeah)
"amy fisher" (thank you, MOFM.)
"cory andrea home depot" (who'sa what-now?)
"dacor ovens suck" (If you say so. My oven flash-cooks things. Neener-neener-neener!)
"dakota fanning" (just... no)
"god loves do overs" (And HOW!)
"how to make a stink grenade" (kids need more supervision these days, agreed?)
"lactatingfuck" (thanks again, MOFM!)
"my long haired cat smells like pee" (I hate that fucking cat)
"oddest frugal blogs" (who you callin' odd? Oh, yeah. Nevermind)
"straight women and girl crushes" (Yes and yes)
"this smell won't get out of my head" (Bad meat or good cheese?)
"you screwed me again constanza" (indeed)
And my personal favorite: "picture of indian mom in jeans" (I've heard of some weird fetishes, but that's a new one!)
And there you have it.
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Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
And now for something completely different
It has been a day. Dad's good, no news to report. I lent him my laptop for while he's stuck in the hospital and I hope he doesn't find anything on there that makes him think I'm a porn star or deviant of some kind. Is it incredibly sad that I miss my laptop already? It is, isn't it? Oh well....
Anywho, I've had my day made many times today by all of you kind folks in the blogosphere, and Samsmama just tagged me in one of those little blog award postings so now I get to talk about my favorite thing - me! Ha ha... ha... *cough* ha.
So, here it goes:
Those who know that I'm a teensy bit OCD about grammar are probably waiting for me to start twitching because somebody spelled it, "awe-summm," but don't worry your pretty little heads about it. I'm me-lellow like jell-o (cool like lemonade) right now. Maybe it's the valium. Ha - I wish. Ok, I need to stop babbling and do this thang!
1. List seven things that make you awe-summm.
2. Pass the award on to seven bloggers you love.
3. Tag those bloggers to let them know that they are now Queens of All Things Awe-Summm.
4. Don't forget to link to the queen that tagged you.
5. If you would like, copy the pic and put it on your sidebar so everyone knows that you're a queen.
Without further ado, seven things that maketh Bev awesome:
1. I am generally a very cheerful person. I've never felt depressed for more than a day or two, even when bad stuff happens (like now).
2. I have absolutely no qualms about standing up in front of crowds. I did theatre for years and years and years, so I have no problem with public speaking. I'm told I am quite good at it.
3. I'm a good cook and a great baker. Seriously, my cakes would make you weep with their incredible deliciousness.
4. I am a good listener and keep secrets well. Mostly, I forget that you even told me something b/c I put it so far back into the vault. So, maybe it's just that I have a bad memory? Whatever, I stand by the good listener thing.
5. One word: cleavage. It's so good that sometimes I even catch chicks peeking. I keep it under wraps for the most part, but some good tasteful cleavage is alright by me.
6. I'm at peace with my paleness. I've done the whole tan-in-a-can thing, but I give up. I wear sunblock and hats now, so I hope to never look like this ----->
7. I got your pop culture reference RIGHT HERE. I'm even worse in person. Give me one or two tiny clues and I will tell you the actor's name and three other films he was in. Throw me a sitcom quote and I will lob one right back. Show me a social climbing D-lister and I will tell you whose junk she's currently working. It's just what I do, and I love it.
That was fun! And now to tag some other "awe-summm" bloggers:
Mala, of course. She's insanely funny and an incredible friend.
Steph, the superhero of the blogging community! A super smart and funny lady who actually likes herself, which makes everyone else like her, too.
Matteroffactmommy because she's the real deal: smart, funny, and kind.
Frank, who says he has "nothing to say," yet whenever he speaks I laugh! And besides, he's just a cool dude.
Jessica O(face), because she's got a sharp and self-deprecating wit that I completely dig.
Audra, who is a Supermom and also has a way of describing things that cracks me up!
Jo, who doesn't blog much, but is such a kind, funny friend. Also? She's hella good with the pop culture references and will TOTALLY be on my team if VH-1 ever does their World Series of PC show again. :D
So there it is. I'm gonna go put together an enormous floor puzzle with my kids right now, and then later I am going to drink a glass of wine, watch Lost, and stay off the internet! What a novel concept.
Anywho, I've had my day made many times today by all of you kind folks in the blogosphere, and Samsmama just tagged me in one of those little blog award postings so now I get to talk about my favorite thing - me! Ha ha... ha... *cough* ha.
So, here it goes:
Those who know that I'm a teensy bit OCD about grammar are probably waiting for me to start twitching because somebody spelled it, "awe-summm," but don't worry your pretty little heads about it. I'm me-lellow like jell-o (cool like lemonade) right now. Maybe it's the valium. Ha - I wish. Ok, I need to stop babbling and do this thang!
1. List seven things that make you awe-summm.
2. Pass the award on to seven bloggers you love.
3. Tag those bloggers to let them know that they are now Queens of All Things Awe-Summm.
4. Don't forget to link to the queen that tagged you.
5. If you would like, copy the pic and put it on your sidebar so everyone knows that you're a queen.
Without further ado, seven things that maketh Bev awesome:
1. I am generally a very cheerful person. I've never felt depressed for more than a day or two, even when bad stuff happens (like now).
2. I have absolutely no qualms about standing up in front of crowds. I did theatre for years and years and years, so I have no problem with public speaking. I'm told I am quite good at it.
3. I'm a good cook and a great baker. Seriously, my cakes would make you weep with their incredible deliciousness.
4. I am a good listener and keep secrets well. Mostly, I forget that you even told me something b/c I put it so far back into the vault. So, maybe it's just that I have a bad memory? Whatever, I stand by the good listener thing.
5. One word: cleavage. It's so good that sometimes I even catch chicks peeking. I keep it under wraps for the most part, but some good tasteful cleavage is alright by me.
6. I'm at peace with my paleness. I've done the whole tan-in-a-can thing, but I give up. I wear sunblock and hats now, so I hope to never look like this ----->
7. I got your pop culture reference RIGHT HERE. I'm even worse in person. Give me one or two tiny clues and I will tell you the actor's name and three other films he was in. Throw me a sitcom quote and I will lob one right back. Show me a social climbing D-lister and I will tell you whose junk she's currently working. It's just what I do, and I love it.
That was fun! And now to tag some other "awe-summm" bloggers:
Mala, of course. She's insanely funny and an incredible friend.
Steph, the superhero of the blogging community! A super smart and funny lady who actually likes herself, which makes everyone else like her, too.
Matteroffactmommy because she's the real deal: smart, funny, and kind.
Frank, who says he has "nothing to say," yet whenever he speaks I laugh! And besides, he's just a cool dude.
Jessica O(face), because she's got a sharp and self-deprecating wit that I completely dig.
Audra, who is a Supermom and also has a way of describing things that cracks me up!
Jo, who doesn't blog much, but is such a kind, funny friend. Also? She's hella good with the pop culture references and will TOTALLY be on my team if VH-1 ever does their World Series of PC show again. :D
So there it is. I'm gonna go put together an enormous floor puzzle with my kids right now, and then later I am going to drink a glass of wine, watch Lost, and stay off the internet! What a novel concept.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I made it exactly 24 hours
before losing my shit. That is some kind of record for me, really. I spent the day with my mom & dad at the hospital, and things are looking bleak. A CT scan revealed the large mass in his lung as well as spots on his liver and spleen. His heart is still functioning at 15% instead of the usual 60% of a normal healthy heart. Tomorrow they'll snake a tube down his throat and take a biopsy to see what form of evil his illness has taken. We won't know what we're dealing with or how to deal with it until Friday, at the earliest.
Dad's in fine spirits, all things considered. He is one of those Zen dudes who is down with Jesus, and he is ready to go if that's what's on the map. However, he says that he will fight it, thank goodness. I know that's weird to say, but it isn't a given for us. You see, my dad is a Christian Scientist, not to be confused with a Scientologist, thankyouverymuch. He doesn't worship Xenu or anything like that. My mom is a staunch Presbyterian so my sister and I were raised in that faith. It wasn't until Dad got old that he started getting real medical care; before then, he did just fine with prayer. So, it's good that he's ok with chemo and radiation and whatever else the doctors want to do to him to get it gone. I'm glad.
I have been very fortunate in my life as far as losing people, which is interesting considering the fact that it has always been my biggest fear. Apart from distant aunts and uncles, the closest person I've lost is my grandmother, who passed away two years ago at the age of 91. I loved that woman silly and still miss her all the time, but by the time you're 91, people don't freak out when you die, ya know? Besides, she was all kinds of demented at the end, so it was pretty much a blessing at that point. Anyway, I don't have a lot of experience with losing my loved ones, and history proves that I will be a big fucking pussy about this. What? It's true.
You see, my first reaction to something this earth-shattering is typically to go to pieces and cry a lot. It's not flattering, but it's true. My family is full of stoic types who wait to freak out until they're alone, but I'm the one who immediately jumps to the endgame and then figures out the details later. It's just how I'm built; I'm hard-wired to freak, if you will. But so far, this has been different.
A couple of weeks ago I had one of those dreams where your teeth fall out. When you look that shit up, it tells you about how it's an anxiety dream about your fear of loss and death. Well, I had this dream about my dad, and when I woke up it was like someone whispered in my ear, "He is going to die." But I didn't freak out. I had this eerie sense of calm about it all. Last night, when he called to tell me about what was happening, that same calm descended upon me and didn't leave all day today, even when I showed up at the hospital and my dad tearfully told me that he probably wouldn't make it to see his first grandson graduate from High School after all.
Yes, I wept a bit here and there, but I kept it together all day, even when I was alone in my car, where I usually allow myself to disintegrate if need be. My sister and I talked about how we both had this strange detachment and peace about it all, about how we were ready to do battle with him and fight it and do what we could, but if it came to the end, well... we were ready. My dad did it all right; we have no bad blood between us, no things left unsaid. My sister and I are 100% sure that he loves us, is proud of us, and wants the best for us. In all of my almost-34 years, I've never had a beef with Dad. He's the guy I'd call just to chat on a Tuesday afternoon, the guy who taught me how to spring a great quote at just the right moment, the guy whose sense of humor I emulated and share.
It wasn't until I had a glass of wine with dinner that something inside me clicked and all hell broke loose. Wine is the key to many things, you see, and closely-guarded emotions are only the beginning. I escaped to the bathroom and quietly let it rip. I didn't want to scare the kids with my animalistic keening, so I risked bursting some blood vessels and had a silent nervous breakdown. I wrapped it up when I heard the baby calling, "Mommmmmy!" outside the door and knew that the dog would be counter-surfing if I didn't get off my duff and load the dishwasher.
I feel better now. The messages here and on Facebook have really helped, and as always, you find out who your friends are in these cases. I appreciate all of your well-wishes and support. I don't know how much I'll blog about what we'll be going through with Dad. I don't know if I'll feel like talking about it or escaping from it, I just don't know. I may find it cathartic to blog about this experience; I have always written to find peace, and I wrote this blog for quite a while before anyone showed up to read it. ;) So, if I bore you, just skip it, and I'll be back to my usual goofy self in no time, I'm sure. Thanks for understanding.
Dad's in fine spirits, all things considered. He is one of those Zen dudes who is down with Jesus, and he is ready to go if that's what's on the map. However, he says that he will fight it, thank goodness. I know that's weird to say, but it isn't a given for us. You see, my dad is a Christian Scientist, not to be confused with a Scientologist, thankyouverymuch. He doesn't worship Xenu or anything like that. My mom is a staunch Presbyterian so my sister and I were raised in that faith. It wasn't until Dad got old that he started getting real medical care; before then, he did just fine with prayer. So, it's good that he's ok with chemo and radiation and whatever else the doctors want to do to him to get it gone. I'm glad.
I have been very fortunate in my life as far as losing people, which is interesting considering the fact that it has always been my biggest fear. Apart from distant aunts and uncles, the closest person I've lost is my grandmother, who passed away two years ago at the age of 91. I loved that woman silly and still miss her all the time, but by the time you're 91, people don't freak out when you die, ya know? Besides, she was all kinds of demented at the end, so it was pretty much a blessing at that point. Anyway, I don't have a lot of experience with losing my loved ones, and history proves that I will be a big fucking pussy about this. What? It's true.
You see, my first reaction to something this earth-shattering is typically to go to pieces and cry a lot. It's not flattering, but it's true. My family is full of stoic types who wait to freak out until they're alone, but I'm the one who immediately jumps to the endgame and then figures out the details later. It's just how I'm built; I'm hard-wired to freak, if you will. But so far, this has been different.
A couple of weeks ago I had one of those dreams where your teeth fall out. When you look that shit up, it tells you about how it's an anxiety dream about your fear of loss and death. Well, I had this dream about my dad, and when I woke up it was like someone whispered in my ear, "He is going to die." But I didn't freak out. I had this eerie sense of calm about it all. Last night, when he called to tell me about what was happening, that same calm descended upon me and didn't leave all day today, even when I showed up at the hospital and my dad tearfully told me that he probably wouldn't make it to see his first grandson graduate from High School after all.
Yes, I wept a bit here and there, but I kept it together all day, even when I was alone in my car, where I usually allow myself to disintegrate if need be. My sister and I talked about how we both had this strange detachment and peace about it all, about how we were ready to do battle with him and fight it and do what we could, but if it came to the end, well... we were ready. My dad did it all right; we have no bad blood between us, no things left unsaid. My sister and I are 100% sure that he loves us, is proud of us, and wants the best for us. In all of my almost-34 years, I've never had a beef with Dad. He's the guy I'd call just to chat on a Tuesday afternoon, the guy who taught me how to spring a great quote at just the right moment, the guy whose sense of humor I emulated and share.
It wasn't until I had a glass of wine with dinner that something inside me clicked and all hell broke loose. Wine is the key to many things, you see, and closely-guarded emotions are only the beginning. I escaped to the bathroom and quietly let it rip. I didn't want to scare the kids with my animalistic keening, so I risked bursting some blood vessels and had a silent nervous breakdown. I wrapped it up when I heard the baby calling, "Mommmmmy!" outside the door and knew that the dog would be counter-surfing if I didn't get off my duff and load the dishwasher.
I feel better now. The messages here and on Facebook have really helped, and as always, you find out who your friends are in these cases. I appreciate all of your well-wishes and support. I don't know how much I'll blog about what we'll be going through with Dad. I don't know if I'll feel like talking about it or escaping from it, I just don't know. I may find it cathartic to blog about this experience; I have always written to find peace, and I wrote this blog for quite a while before anyone showed up to read it. ;) So, if I bore you, just skip it, and I'll be back to my usual goofy self in no time, I'm sure. Thanks for understanding.
Fun, interrupted.
Just when the little things start to bug you, something big comes along and puts it all right back into perspective. Yesterday I was all pissed off about the a-holes I work with and how they mainline coffee and then get cranky the day before the new shipment gets delivered. And of course, it's my fault that 6 people went through 3 cases of k-cups in 3 weeks (that's 288 cups of coffee, in case you're keeping track at home). Anyway, I don't really like talking about my Flair.
Last night my dad called from the hospital, where he's been admitted. He had a hernia in his chest that he went to the doctor for and they found a bunch of other stuff. Heart stuff. Lung stuff. It's not good, and that's all I know right now. I'm heading up there in an hour to see what's what.
I'm surprisingly calm, considering what a Daddy's girl I am, but I'm not gonna lie: this sucks.
Last night my dad called from the hospital, where he's been admitted. He had a hernia in his chest that he went to the doctor for and they found a bunch of other stuff. Heart stuff. Lung stuff. It's not good, and that's all I know right now. I'm heading up there in an hour to see what's what.
I'm surprisingly calm, considering what a Daddy's girl I am, but I'm not gonna lie: this sucks.
Monday, April 27, 2009
I know I missed Earth Day...
but it's never too late to THINK GREEN!
Howdy-diddly-ho, neighborinos! I trust everyone is having a lovely Monday morning. I know I am. Ha. Actually, it's not so bad - boss is on vacation this week so I have EVEN LESS work than usual (hard to believe, I know), the sun is shining, and all's well in my little corner of the universe.
Hey, and ya' know what's even better? I don't have the swine flu. Yay!
Funny story from yesterday: I took the boys grocery shopping with me so that Jim could have a few hours of alone time. So, we're driving along, the sun is shining, the wind's in our hair, and we've got our music pumpin'. We heard three, count 'em, THREE songs in a row that are on Rock Band 2, so my oldest son was in his element, completely rockin' out in the back seat. Even the little guy gets in on the action and does a little air-drumming; it always gets a big laugh from us so he does it all the time now. It's extremely cute. Since we listen to a lot of live recordings (I did mention the old man's a Deadhead, right?) he also cheers wildly at the end of songs, when the crowd cheers. Frickin' adorable.
Anyway, I digress.... So we're at a stop light, and Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads comes on. My six year old practically has an aneurysm from excitement at this point, since this makes FOUR RB2 songs in a row. So I'm dancing away, laughing as the little one is doing his best Animal from the Muppets impression in his carseat, and I glance over and see an entire family watching us and laughing.
So you know how we do it. I kept on boogying, but this time I had my big guy backing me up with some SWEEEEEET air guitar action. Right on! I know they won't enjoy rocking out with mom forever, so I'm sure enjoying it while it lasts. My kids are the bees knees!
Howdy-diddly-ho, neighborinos! I trust everyone is having a lovely Monday morning. I know I am. Ha. Actually, it's not so bad - boss is on vacation this week so I have EVEN LESS work than usual (hard to believe, I know), the sun is shining, and all's well in my little corner of the universe.
Hey, and ya' know what's even better? I don't have the swine flu. Yay!
Funny story from yesterday: I took the boys grocery shopping with me so that Jim could have a few hours of alone time. So, we're driving along, the sun is shining, the wind's in our hair, and we've got our music pumpin'. We heard three, count 'em, THREE songs in a row that are on Rock Band 2, so my oldest son was in his element, completely rockin' out in the back seat. Even the little guy gets in on the action and does a little air-drumming; it always gets a big laugh from us so he does it all the time now. It's extremely cute. Since we listen to a lot of live recordings (I did mention the old man's a Deadhead, right?) he also cheers wildly at the end of songs, when the crowd cheers. Frickin' adorable.
Anyway, I digress.... So we're at a stop light, and Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads comes on. My six year old practically has an aneurysm from excitement at this point, since this makes FOUR RB2 songs in a row. So I'm dancing away, laughing as the little one is doing his best Animal from the Muppets impression in his carseat, and I glance over and see an entire family watching us and laughing.
So you know how we do it. I kept on boogying, but this time I had my big guy backing me up with some SWEEEEEET air guitar action. Right on! I know they won't enjoy rocking out with mom forever, so I'm sure enjoying it while it lasts. My kids are the bees knees!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Watch this
Last night we watched a funny movie, so I thought I'd pass along the rec to my goofy comedy-loving friends out there. It was Role Models with Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott (yes, Stifler, but don't let that ruin it for you - he's actually really funny in this!). I was skeptical about it but Jim remembered that Entertainment Weekly reviewed it and said it was surprisingly good, so we watched it. It was really funny! There were some hysterical lines, so of course we burned it and will be watching it again so I can add them to my repetoire. (blush)
It also stars Elisabeth Banks, who is a pretty funny young actress (I liked her in Zack & Miri), and Jane Lynch, who my Christopher Guest peeps know as being one funny beyotch. For real - she rules. It also features the kid who plays McLovin in Superbad.
There are two extremely sappy parts, but they don't negate the hilarity. You'll recognize the cheesy parts when you see them... trust me. Anyway, if you're looking for a funny movie and don't mind a little raunchy humor (and if you're reading my blog, you don't), check it out.
It also stars Elisabeth Banks, who is a pretty funny young actress (I liked her in Zack & Miri), and Jane Lynch, who my Christopher Guest peeps know as being one funny beyotch. For real - she rules. It also features the kid who plays McLovin in Superbad.
There are two extremely sappy parts, but they don't negate the hilarity. You'll recognize the cheesy parts when you see them... trust me. Anyway, if you're looking for a funny movie and don't mind a little raunchy humor (and if you're reading my blog, you don't), check it out.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Partying on a school night
AKA: I am too old for this shite.
On Thursday night Mala and I ventured down to Boston to see Alexi Murdoch. We had a great night, but despite a good night's sleep last night, I. AM. TIRED. We didn't get home till 2, and Little Son decided to rise and shine at 5:50 yesterday. Gah... hurtin'. Two cups of coffee and FOUR Ibuprofen did nothing to combat my headache, but the good news is I looked pretty chipper and normal, so at least I flew under the radar at work. yaaaaaaaay.
Anyway, I know you'll be shocked to hear that we had a really good time! We went to dinner at a cute little Thai place we like and it was quite yummy. My dish was named "Old Lady Spicy," so of course I had to try it, because you are what you eat, right? It was tasty, but I discovered that a little squid goes a looooong way. Blech.
After dinner, my brand new camera decided it was just too tired to go on. It actually said, "Battery exhausted." Sonofabitch! I just cannot catch a break with cameras lately! Mala, being lazy-eyed with the vino and a DAMN GOOD FRIEND gave me her camera to use for the show, because she knows how important it is to me to document every tiny moment that happens at concerts. She has seen me at shows many times before and knows that I'm just not happy unless I'm snapping pics like a paparazzi and taking little videos that I'll probably never look at again. It's just what I do. *shrug*
Once inside the place, we politely elbowed the BU students aside, and found a great spot just left of center. We were patting ourselves on the back for maneuvering such great vantage point when the tallest dude in the place somehow managed to come stand right in front of Mala, where he proceeded to make out with his girlfriend throughout half of the show. There's really only one thing to do in this situation, and that is to make sexy faces at his back and pretend to do the whole Night at the Roxbury sandwich dance move on him when he's not looking.
You mean you don't do that? Huh. Just us, then? Ooookay.
The show itself was terrific, and we got right up close to the stage. So close that I made eye contact with Alexi a few times (settle down, Bev!) and close enough to admire his tight jeans, if you catch my drift. What? Mala noticed too! I know, I'm terrible! *at this point in the story, feel free to picture me wiggling my eyebrows and leering lecherously*
We were also close enough that apparently, according to Mala, Alexi MAY have heard my unintentionally loud stage whisper during a pause between songs. He laughed and said something like, "This isn't that kind of show," but I was too busy giggling at my own razor-sharp wit to notice that he'd heard me. What did I say, you may ask?
Well. Being the demure and (not tipsy at all) fan that I am, I may have jokingly said something along the lines of, "Show us your boobs!" Or something like that. Allegedly. A little. What?! He's hot!
VIDEOS - So you can feel like you were there!
Ok, so I took a couple of videos, but I have to apologize b/c they're not that great. Half the show was done in the DARK, which doesn't work so well when you're using an itty bitty digital camera with no light on it. I had to rely upon the stage lighting, which was pretty minimal. Also, tiny camera + crowd surrounding me = a little shakey. Plus, you know, wine. SO, this video is very dark, but the audio is good. This song is called All My Days, and you may have heard it on a couple of upcoming movie previews, Grey's Anatomy, stuff like that.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Stay tuned....
I have a great post all written out about my chick date with Mala last night, but it's lacking a certain visual element at the moment. Yes, the photos & the videos. Had some technical difficulties last night, which continue today. Rest assured, it'll be a fun post, but it won't be up till tonight or tomorrow. I know you're all on the edge of your seats, but fear not! You'll get your daily dose of Bev-perversions (Beversions?) just as soon as I can get 'em out of this here camera thang.
"Of course...the files are IN the computer!"
For now, I will just say that I am shitfuck tired and ready to get some lunch. I haven't eaten since my pile of squid at dinner last night (you'll see), and I am about ready to gnaw through my desk.
Shine on, you crazy diamonds. Bev loves ya. :)
"Of course...the files are IN the computer!"
For now, I will just say that I am shitfuck tired and ready to get some lunch. I haven't eaten since my pile of squid at dinner last night (you'll see), and I am about ready to gnaw through my desk.
Shine on, you crazy diamonds. Bev loves ya. :)
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Confession: I'm gaga
Since Steph backed me up in comments the other day, I'm gonna go ahead and come out of the closet with another one of my more cheesetastic quirks. I'm a little bit obsessed with Lady GaGa. I know! I can hear you all saying, "Ugh, Bev, no!"
But hear me out.
First of all, let it be known that I am not a music snob. I like ALL kinds of music, from the twangiest piece of country crap to the most out-there techno, and everything in between. While my leanings have almost always been towards alternative, I can get down to muzak if need be. And I have. Sure, there are bands whose music I don't like (Nickleback... I'm looking in your direction), but it's them specifically, not any particular genre.
Also, I love to boogie, so dance music is a-ok by me, and this is where the Gaga comes in. This music is like heroin. I haven't stopped playing the CD in my car for 3 days, and I've been busted dancing at stoplights a couple of times now. Oh, and FYI - when I'm busted, I don't get embarrassed, I go with it! The other day I was workin' it out when I noticed a guy watching me, so I did the ol' white-man's overbite, pointing at him thing, and he laughed his ass off. What can I say? I like making people giggle, even at my own expense. The best part is that when I told Jim about it he didn't even bat an eye. He's used to my antics by now, I s'pose.
Speaking of Jim, he is completely indulgent when it comes to my semi-secret pop leanings. In case you didn't know, Jim's a Deadhead and a huge music lover, and he takes it very seriously. He listens to a lot of 60's & 70's rock, a lot of CCR, Hot Tuna, Steve Kimock... shit like that. I like it too, but as I mentioned, I refuse to be pigeon-holed. So, despite the fact that he thinks pop sucks, he thinks it's cute that I like it.
Now, back to GaGa. She's batshit crazy, and I think that's the tits. She dresses like a martian and is amazingly good at hiding her "butterface" behind big glasses and hair extensions. She never wears pants, and I think it's a well-documented fact that I also hate pants. Most importantly, her music is the catchiest shit I've ever heard in my life. And she's dirty, and lord knows, I like dirty.
Some of her lyrics:
"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."
"Russian Roulette isn't the same without a gun, and baby when it's love if it ain't rough it isn't fun."
and my personal favorite, "I'll get him hard, show him what I've got." (this is part of the chorus, people. THE CHORUS!)
Hee! I think it's love. Sure, some of the baselines remind me a little too much of Salt n' Peppa, Paula Abdul, and other 80's gems, but I can dig it. The album only has 2-3 clunkers (I don't "do" ballads on dance albums), but the rest is ridiculously catchy. I literally cannot stop moving when it's on.
Oh, and for anyone who thinks she's gimmicky with the outfits and wants to feel superior in their musical tastes, let me remind you of this:
Ziggy Stardust Bowie is some of my favorite Bowie.
Spectacle is good! Put on a show for me, entertain me, shock me, and definitely talk dirty to me. :)
So, there it is. Let the hazing commence. I am secure enough in my coolness that I refuse to feel shame (much) about loving the Lady G!
But hear me out.
First of all, let it be known that I am not a music snob. I like ALL kinds of music, from the twangiest piece of country crap to the most out-there techno, and everything in between. While my leanings have almost always been towards alternative, I can get down to muzak if need be. And I have. Sure, there are bands whose music I don't like (Nickleback... I'm looking in your direction), but it's them specifically, not any particular genre.
Also, I love to boogie, so dance music is a-ok by me, and this is where the Gaga comes in. This music is like heroin. I haven't stopped playing the CD in my car for 3 days, and I've been busted dancing at stoplights a couple of times now. Oh, and FYI - when I'm busted, I don't get embarrassed, I go with it! The other day I was workin' it out when I noticed a guy watching me, so I did the ol' white-man's overbite, pointing at him thing, and he laughed his ass off. What can I say? I like making people giggle, even at my own expense. The best part is that when I told Jim about it he didn't even bat an eye. He's used to my antics by now, I s'pose.
Speaking of Jim, he is completely indulgent when it comes to my semi-secret pop leanings. In case you didn't know, Jim's a Deadhead and a huge music lover, and he takes it very seriously. He listens to a lot of 60's & 70's rock, a lot of CCR, Hot Tuna, Steve Kimock... shit like that. I like it too, but as I mentioned, I refuse to be pigeon-holed. So, despite the fact that he thinks pop sucks, he thinks it's cute that I like it.
Now, back to GaGa. She's batshit crazy, and I think that's the tits. She dresses like a martian and is amazingly good at hiding her "butterface" behind big glasses and hair extensions. She never wears pants, and I think it's a well-documented fact that I also hate pants. Most importantly, her music is the catchiest shit I've ever heard in my life. And she's dirty, and lord knows, I like dirty.
Some of her lyrics:
"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."
"Russian Roulette isn't the same without a gun, and baby when it's love if it ain't rough it isn't fun."
and my personal favorite, "I'll get him hard, show him what I've got." (this is part of the chorus, people. THE CHORUS!)
Hee! I think it's love. Sure, some of the baselines remind me a little too much of Salt n' Peppa, Paula Abdul, and other 80's gems, but I can dig it. The album only has 2-3 clunkers (I don't "do" ballads on dance albums), but the rest is ridiculously catchy. I literally cannot stop moving when it's on.
Oh, and for anyone who thinks she's gimmicky with the outfits and wants to feel superior in their musical tastes, let me remind you of this:
Ziggy Stardust Bowie is some of my favorite Bowie.
Spectacle is good! Put on a show for me, entertain me, shock me, and definitely talk dirty to me. :)
So, there it is. Let the hazing commence. I am secure enough in my coolness that I refuse to feel shame (much) about loving the Lady G!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Good God in HEAVEN
What is the opposite of real and spectacular??
THIS:
What the fuckity fuck is going on here?? Jesus on a Segway, somebody cover that woman up! Seriously, I'm at a loss.
I guess this chick is on one of those Real Housewives of Somesuchcrap show, but I don't watch that shit. All I know is, that just ain't right.
Thank you, Dlisted, for scarring me for life with this woman's hideous tits. Eeeesh.
THIS:
What the fuckity fuck is going on here?? Jesus on a Segway, somebody cover that woman up! Seriously, I'm at a loss.
I guess this chick is on one of those Real Housewives of Somesuchcrap show, but I don't watch that shit. All I know is, that just ain't right.
Thank you, Dlisted, for scarring me for life with this woman's hideous tits. Eeeesh.
Come to mama!
The new poster for New Moon is making the rounds, and HELLO. Photoshopped? Sure, but who cares?
Even though I pretty much hated that book, I hope you know that I'll be front & center next November, elbowing annoying tweens out of my way as need be. I will cut a bitch for blocking my view of the hotness! Not even kidding. Ok, maybe a little.
Ugh... today is dragging. I don't want to be at work, and my boss is being annoying as hell. I mean, he expects me to do work and shit. The nerve! What I want to do is go home and do laundry, because I'm wild and crazy like that. Ok, not really. Mostly I just want to avoid having to hunt high and low for a clean pair of Toy Story underwear tomorrow morning at 7 AM, like I did today.
What? All of my Barbie undies were dirty!
Oh, and while I'm wallowing in my immaturity, I have to mention that Charlaine Harris's next installment of the Sookie Stackhouse novels comes out in early May, and the next season of True Blood starts up in June on HBO. Looks like I'm going back to the 'BO, cause I can't miss it. I just can't. I won't!
Anywhoooo.... Better get back to it. These Share Class Analyzers aren't gonna analyze themselves, people! Good thing, too, 'cause then I'd be out of a job. Latah!
Monday, April 20, 2009
Back on the chain gang
Aside: I just realized that I always seem to use songs in my post titles... wasn't intentional, but now it kind of is. :)
Happy Monday, ladies & germs! Hope everyone is fine & dandy this fine morning. I'm back at work, but my boss is out at a BoSox game all day and - you guessed it - I'm all caught up with my work, so here I sit. Chillin' like a villain...and hours to kill before I rest.
So, I'm gonna share some pics of the big b-day bash we had on Saturday. We had a great time, and I'm so glad that a lot of our kids' parents are also our friends because the party definitely evolved into something more rockin' as the day progressed. After the kids retired upstairs to trash my bedroom and watch movies, the "adults" whooped it up, played some Rock Band, and discovered that I don't even own shot glasses anymore. What has become of Fun Bev? Whatever. We made do.
Here are some highlights:
The pinata was really a high point. The kids really seemed to get into beating the tar outta SpongeBob. Go figure.
Cake! I ordered this cake, sight unseen, and asked for a SpongeBob with music theme. Heh. This one is getting sent into Cake Wrecks, for sure. The good news is, it was delicious.
Presents:
Mala took this one, and it's my favorite from the whole day. Oh, the excitement of a Star Wars backpack!
Does this next one qualify as photobombing?
Our all-girl band got the festivities going while the menfolk stayed outside with all of the kids. We have our husbands well-trained, obviously. Look for our band, "The Easy Mamas," at a karaoke bar near you! Btw, there were waaaay more pics of this, but those are goin' in the vault. I'll just give you the musical stylings of Mala (left) and Laurie (right) for now:
Last but not least, the kids weren't the only ones on a sugar high, right Jill?!
A good time was had by all. The invite might've said 12-2 PM, but that clearly meant 12-11 PM. Woot! Today is the big guy's actual birthday. I can't believe my kid is SIX! Where has the time gone?
Happy Monday, ladies & germs! Hope everyone is fine & dandy this fine morning. I'm back at work, but my boss is out at a BoSox game all day and - you guessed it - I'm all caught up with my work, so here I sit. Chillin' like a villain...and hours to kill before I rest.
So, I'm gonna share some pics of the big b-day bash we had on Saturday. We had a great time, and I'm so glad that a lot of our kids' parents are also our friends because the party definitely evolved into something more rockin' as the day progressed. After the kids retired upstairs to trash my bedroom and watch movies, the "adults" whooped it up, played some Rock Band, and discovered that I don't even own shot glasses anymore. What has become of Fun Bev? Whatever. We made do.
Here are some highlights:
The pinata was really a high point. The kids really seemed to get into beating the tar outta SpongeBob. Go figure.
Cake! I ordered this cake, sight unseen, and asked for a SpongeBob with music theme. Heh. This one is getting sent into Cake Wrecks, for sure. The good news is, it was delicious.
Presents:
Mala took this one, and it's my favorite from the whole day. Oh, the excitement of a Star Wars backpack!
Does this next one qualify as photobombing?
Our all-girl band got the festivities going while the menfolk stayed outside with all of the kids. We have our husbands well-trained, obviously. Look for our band, "The Easy Mamas," at a karaoke bar near you! Btw, there were waaaay more pics of this, but those are goin' in the vault. I'll just give you the musical stylings of Mala (left) and Laurie (right) for now:
Last but not least, the kids weren't the only ones on a sugar high, right Jill?!
A good time was had by all. The invite might've said 12-2 PM, but that clearly meant 12-11 PM. Woot! Today is the big guy's actual birthday. I can't believe my kid is SIX! Where has the time gone?
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday... that's my fun day
A while ago I blogged about my affection for singer/songwriter Alexi Murdoch. Well, I just got tickets to see him this Thursday in Boston! Yay! I'm so excited. Mala & I are having a little girl-date with dinner and the show, and the venue is small and wonderful so I'm sure we'll get up close. We saw one of Mala's faves, Everclear, there a few years back.
I heard one of Alexi's (see that? We're on a 1st name basis... we're like this) songs on a movie preview recently, so perhaps he's reaching a new level of commercial success. Yay for him! :)
Having a lazy Sunday here, recovering from the big 6th birthday blow-out yesterday. We had an unexpectedly awesome time. I'll fill you in later, but right now a piece of left-over birthday cake is calling my name....
Update, Sunday afternoon:
I just felt warm sunshine on my face for the first time in six months! Our winter sun is bright but it lacks warmth, and we did not escape to anywhere further south than Philly this winter. Today's the first day I've been able to get some au natural vitamin D since sometime last October! I've spent most of the day out on the deck in a comfortable chair, book open on my lap, watching the boys fly kites in the backyard. *happy sigh*
Sundays rule.
I heard one of Alexi's (see that? We're on a 1st name basis... we're like this) songs on a movie preview recently, so perhaps he's reaching a new level of commercial success. Yay for him! :)
Having a lazy Sunday here, recovering from the big 6th birthday blow-out yesterday. We had an unexpectedly awesome time. I'll fill you in later, but right now a piece of left-over birthday cake is calling my name....
Update, Sunday afternoon:
I just felt warm sunshine on my face for the first time in six months! Our winter sun is bright but it lacks warmth, and we did not escape to anywhere further south than Philly this winter. Today's the first day I've been able to get some au natural vitamin D since sometime last October! I've spent most of the day out on the deck in a comfortable chair, book open on my lap, watching the boys fly kites in the backyard. *happy sigh*
Sundays rule.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Me, me, me... hello? Me!
Man, I've been thinking about my post earlier today, and I've got somethin' to get off my (real and spectacular) chest.
I'm not bitter. I'm not upset with where my life has ended up, and I don't begrudge the decisions I've made that brought me here. I am not religious, per se, but I am spiritual enough to believe that all things happen for a reason, and that usually you get what you need at any given time in life.
I just wanted to clarify that point, without going all mushy blah-blah on the previous posting. It's a gorgeous day, and I'm in a great mood, and I don't feel like "going there" if you get what I'm saying. I love humor, but my blog isn't always about bringing the funny. It's about all of me, and all of my life, and that's gonna be gorgeous or abysmal or something in between, depending on what day you catch me on.
I also need to get back to writing fiction, because I'm so sick of writing about myself right now! Gah!
Art Imitating (my) life
AKA: a little backstory on how I ended up makin' the copies....
On The Office, which is one of my favorite shows on the air right now, Pam has inexplicably jumped ship from Dunder Mifflin to go work for The Michael Scott Paper Company, a start-up run by her idiotic but oddly endearing boss, Michael Scott. Michael also recruits the egomaniacal dickwad, Ryan, who worked for Dunder Mifflin twice before getting fired and like, prosecuted for fraud or something. Hee. Anyway, the three of them get a ridiculous closet of an office in the basement of the same building which houses Dunder Mifflin, and hilarity ensues as they try to deal with hearing each other's phone conversations, the toilet flush/conversations from the mens' room, sniping DM's client base, etc.
I have lived this scenerio. I was in my mid-20's and working for a small, crappy TV station where I was actually given a lot of responsibility. The station was a joke, but I was able to get great experience directing, technical directing, doing live shoots, live-to-tape, got to meet a lot of the Presidential candidates during the 2000 primaries, and best of all - I loved most of my coworkers. We had a ball, and I've often thought over the years that TV folk are some of the funniest people on the planet. We just laughed so much, and I made some great friends that I'm still close with to this day (you all know Mala, right?).
After two years, some of those cool people started to move on to other jobs because of an impending change of ownership at the station, and I was presented with an opportunity that seemed to be the right thing for me at the time. Essentially, the news director at the station and his buddy, a local politician, had this idea for a dot.com, so they went through the station and cherry-picked some talent from the sinking ship. My boss was selected and asked to bring along one "right hand man" kind of person, and he chose me.
In retrospect, I kind of wish I'd just stayed behind and taken his job at the station, which I'm sure I could have gotten. As it turned out, I did get his job a few years later, but I'll get to that in a minute.
So, much like Pam, I found myself in the truck bay of the TV station, working side by side with many of the people from the station whom I liked the least. We're talkin' real assholes, here. One of them was the husband of this one moronic coworker of mine with whom I did not get along, so now I was forced to make nicey nice with her disgusting, gun-carrying, pinky ring-wearing, unibrow-sporting asshole husband on a daily basis. All of the upper management guys were complete shits, too.
We did eventually get the company off the ground. What we did was produce streaming media for corporate clients; both live webcasts and taped/edited presentations with all their slides, info. tabs, etc. It was actually kind of cutting edge back then, but these days any schlub can do them. The live webcasts were my specialty, which meant I was humping heavy-ass equipment all over the place on a weekly basis. I used to fly to DC almost weekly, and was in Boston several times a week to work for John Hancock and Putnam, two firms that were/are big into live webcasts for internal use. I even had to go do some work for Miller Beer, which meant a couple of oh-so-exciting trips to Milwaukee (or as the Native Americans call it, "Milla-wauk-ay"). ;)
Anyway, my point is, we put blood, sweat, and tears into that company and made it into something worthwhile. AND THEN... duhn duhn duuuuuhn... THE BOBS came. Literally. Essentially, the two jerkoffs who started the company decided it was too much work to run it, so they hired these two guys from Avid to come run the place. At first, it was great. They revamped a lot of stuff, restructured, got rid of some cling-ons. Then, things got bad.
They decided my boss & mentor was making too much money, so they laid him off and gave me his job. That was awkward, to say the least, and I've always felt horrible that we were put in that position. I worked with that guy for 5 years (2 at the station, 3 at the dot.com) and we were friends. It really, really sucked.
Then things sucked even worse.... I did great as Production Manager and ran the department really well, if I do say so myself. One of the Bobs actually told me once that I was "a born leader with upper management potential." Hellloooo, Office Space. But about a year into my new position I got pregnant with my first child, and The Bobs started acting strangely. It became clear that they were developing a pattern with young women in the office who found themselves "in the family way." One by one, all of the women in our company who got pregnant found themselves laid off 6 weeks after returning to work after their maternity leaves. There were 3 of them, and then it happened to me, too, thereby effectively ending my video production career path.
After all of that, I was just too freaking tired to go back and start over. I thought about going back to TV, but with a new baby... the hours and the pay kinda suck, and I just didn't think it was the right place for me anymore. I wanted a job where I didn't have to think a whole lot, where I could just log my hours and be with my family and not travel or think about work when I wasn't there. And boy, did I ever get it. Be careful what you wish for.
But I miss thinking on my feet, and I miss live TV. A lot.
So, watch out, Pammy. I've been where you are, and it doesn't end well.
On The Office, which is one of my favorite shows on the air right now, Pam has inexplicably jumped ship from Dunder Mifflin to go work for The Michael Scott Paper Company, a start-up run by her idiotic but oddly endearing boss, Michael Scott. Michael also recruits the egomaniacal dickwad, Ryan, who worked for Dunder Mifflin twice before getting fired and like, prosecuted for fraud or something. Hee. Anyway, the three of them get a ridiculous closet of an office in the basement of the same building which houses Dunder Mifflin, and hilarity ensues as they try to deal with hearing each other's phone conversations, the toilet flush/conversations from the mens' room, sniping DM's client base, etc.
I have lived this scenerio. I was in my mid-20's and working for a small, crappy TV station where I was actually given a lot of responsibility. The station was a joke, but I was able to get great experience directing, technical directing, doing live shoots, live-to-tape, got to meet a lot of the Presidential candidates during the 2000 primaries, and best of all - I loved most of my coworkers. We had a ball, and I've often thought over the years that TV folk are some of the funniest people on the planet. We just laughed so much, and I made some great friends that I'm still close with to this day (you all know Mala, right?).
After two years, some of those cool people started to move on to other jobs because of an impending change of ownership at the station, and I was presented with an opportunity that seemed to be the right thing for me at the time. Essentially, the news director at the station and his buddy, a local politician, had this idea for a dot.com, so they went through the station and cherry-picked some talent from the sinking ship. My boss was selected and asked to bring along one "right hand man" kind of person, and he chose me.
In retrospect, I kind of wish I'd just stayed behind and taken his job at the station, which I'm sure I could have gotten. As it turned out, I did get his job a few years later, but I'll get to that in a minute.
So, much like Pam, I found myself in the truck bay of the TV station, working side by side with many of the people from the station whom I liked the least. We're talkin' real assholes, here. One of them was the husband of this one moronic coworker of mine with whom I did not get along, so now I was forced to make nicey nice with her disgusting, gun-carrying, pinky ring-wearing, unibrow-sporting asshole husband on a daily basis. All of the upper management guys were complete shits, too.
We did eventually get the company off the ground. What we did was produce streaming media for corporate clients; both live webcasts and taped/edited presentations with all their slides, info. tabs, etc. It was actually kind of cutting edge back then, but these days any schlub can do them. The live webcasts were my specialty, which meant I was humping heavy-ass equipment all over the place on a weekly basis. I used to fly to DC almost weekly, and was in Boston several times a week to work for John Hancock and Putnam, two firms that were/are big into live webcasts for internal use. I even had to go do some work for Miller Beer, which meant a couple of oh-so-exciting trips to Milwaukee (or as the Native Americans call it, "Milla-wauk-ay"). ;)
Anyway, my point is, we put blood, sweat, and tears into that company and made it into something worthwhile. AND THEN... duhn duhn duuuuuhn... THE BOBS came. Literally. Essentially, the two jerkoffs who started the company decided it was too much work to run it, so they hired these two guys from Avid to come run the place. At first, it was great. They revamped a lot of stuff, restructured, got rid of some cling-ons. Then, things got bad.
They decided my boss & mentor was making too much money, so they laid him off and gave me his job. That was awkward, to say the least, and I've always felt horrible that we were put in that position. I worked with that guy for 5 years (2 at the station, 3 at the dot.com) and we were friends. It really, really sucked.
Then things sucked even worse.... I did great as Production Manager and ran the department really well, if I do say so myself. One of the Bobs actually told me once that I was "a born leader with upper management potential." Hellloooo, Office Space. But about a year into my new position I got pregnant with my first child, and The Bobs started acting strangely. It became clear that they were developing a pattern with young women in the office who found themselves "in the family way." One by one, all of the women in our company who got pregnant found themselves laid off 6 weeks after returning to work after their maternity leaves. There were 3 of them, and then it happened to me, too, thereby effectively ending my video production career path.
After all of that, I was just too freaking tired to go back and start over. I thought about going back to TV, but with a new baby... the hours and the pay kinda suck, and I just didn't think it was the right place for me anymore. I wanted a job where I didn't have to think a whole lot, where I could just log my hours and be with my family and not travel or think about work when I wasn't there. And boy, did I ever get it. Be careful what you wish for.
But I miss thinking on my feet, and I miss live TV. A lot.
So, watch out, Pammy. I've been where you are, and it doesn't end well.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A post about this, that, and the other
Hey-yo!
That's the greeting of my little son, who is talking more and more these days. He's in the most adorable phase right now, aside from the whole "smashy-smashy" thing he's been doing. You know: "I'm gonna take this plate and throw it overhand and see what happens! Woohoo! Fun!" That part isn't so cute. BUT, when he opens a door and peers around it with his big blue eyes and says, "Heyyo!" it makes up for the tiny shards of broken glass I keep finding in the oddest places even after I think I've vacuumed them up.... Mostly.
I've been pulled in many directions this week, which is an altogether unpleasant kind of feeling. My oldest turns 6 next week (yes, I had my first baby on 4/20... a little private joke between me and the cosmos) and we're having a little b-day party for him on Saturday. Instead of doing the big Chuck E. Cheese party, he wanted to do it at our place again. Greeeeeeaaaat. Sure, it's cheaper, but it's a helluva lot more work for dear ol' ma. Whatever. I'm gonna throw some "crabby patties" on the grill & feed the kids sugar and the grown-ups beer. That's the plan, Stan.
But that doesn't mean I don't have an assload of errands to get done in the next two days. My house is a pit of despair that needs a serious scrubbing & decluttering. Of course, I should have stayed home and cleaned on my day off yesterday... but I went to the movies with Laurie instead. Bad, Bev, baaaaaad. If I can't shoot myself in the foot, what fun am I? Don't answer that.
Anyhoooo. Here's something cool though - my sister sent this to me yesterday with the message, "More proof that you can't judge a book by its cover." Right on, sis.
Her name is Susan Boyle, and she looks like this--->
and she sounds like this:
Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent, singing I dreamed a dream from Les Mis.
Sorry I can't embed it - YouTube is being a bitch. But, go watch it. I swear, I don't know what it is that makes me tear up when I hear someone sing so beautifully. I'm hard-wired that way, even though I can't stand cheesy talent show stuff like this. This is worth a look/listen, though... what a gift.
That's the greeting of my little son, who is talking more and more these days. He's in the most adorable phase right now, aside from the whole "smashy-smashy" thing he's been doing. You know: "I'm gonna take this plate and throw it overhand and see what happens! Woohoo! Fun!" That part isn't so cute. BUT, when he opens a door and peers around it with his big blue eyes and says, "Heyyo!" it makes up for the tiny shards of broken glass I keep finding in the oddest places even after I think I've vacuumed them up.... Mostly.
I've been pulled in many directions this week, which is an altogether unpleasant kind of feeling. My oldest turns 6 next week (yes, I had my first baby on 4/20... a little private joke between me and the cosmos) and we're having a little b-day party for him on Saturday. Instead of doing the big Chuck E. Cheese party, he wanted to do it at our place again. Greeeeeeaaaat. Sure, it's cheaper, but it's a helluva lot more work for dear ol' ma. Whatever. I'm gonna throw some "crabby patties" on the grill & feed the kids sugar and the grown-ups beer. That's the plan, Stan.
But that doesn't mean I don't have an assload of errands to get done in the next two days. My house is a pit of despair that needs a serious scrubbing & decluttering. Of course, I should have stayed home and cleaned on my day off yesterday... but I went to the movies with Laurie instead. Bad, Bev, baaaaaad. If I can't shoot myself in the foot, what fun am I? Don't answer that.
Anyhoooo. Here's something cool though - my sister sent this to me yesterday with the message, "More proof that you can't judge a book by its cover." Right on, sis.
Her name is Susan Boyle, and she looks like this--->
and she sounds like this:
Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent, singing I dreamed a dream from Les Mis.
Sorry I can't embed it - YouTube is being a bitch. But, go watch it. I swear, I don't know what it is that makes me tear up when I hear someone sing so beautifully. I'm hard-wired that way, even though I can't stand cheesy talent show stuff like this. This is worth a look/listen, though... what a gift.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
See? I knew I liked her.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Brought to you by....
Last night after the kiddos were finally coaxed down from their sugar highs and wrangled into bed, Dh and I sat down to watch a little television. It was dismal at first; there's just nothing on on Sunday nights, but then we struck programming gold! The first 6 episodes from season 1 Arrested Development! Yahooooo! One of my favorite shows, from the beginning, and of course... Jason Bateman. Hubba hubba.... ;)
The show is on some obscure cable channel called G4. It's obviously not a really popular channel, and you can tell because of the quality of the advertisements. Many of the ads look like they were produced at some local TV station (NTTAWWT!), and all of them contain highly questionable products.
For instance, we saw this one about 5x over the course of a few hours:
Yes, wood extenders. These ads had terrible production value, were about 2 minutes long, and contained these horribly embarrassing "man on the street" style testimonials. Awkward!
** The Jim would like me to mention at this time that no, we aren't going to purchase said product anytime soon as we have NO NEED for them. As a matter of fact, his using them would "probably be dangerous for anyone standing around nearby." **
You have to wonder wth is in those little capsules! Seriously, if they're directing more blood down south, what happens to the rest of the dude? "Yes, my johnson is huge, but is my arm supposed to be tingling like this? And why am I drooling uncontrollably??"
The other ads were equally hilarious and troubling, which leads me to believe that the demographic for G4 is Snuggly-wearing, small-penis having, Rascal-driving, SlapChop-buying potheads (as evidenced by their promos for their planned 4/20 movie event).
Now that's just good TV!
The show is on some obscure cable channel called G4. It's obviously not a really popular channel, and you can tell because of the quality of the advertisements. Many of the ads look like they were produced at some local TV station (NTTAWWT!), and all of them contain highly questionable products.
For instance, we saw this one about 5x over the course of a few hours:
Yes, wood extenders. These ads had terrible production value, were about 2 minutes long, and contained these horribly embarrassing "man on the street" style testimonials. Awkward!
** The Jim would like me to mention at this time that no, we aren't going to purchase said product anytime soon as we have NO NEED for them. As a matter of fact, his using them would "probably be dangerous for anyone standing around nearby." **
You have to wonder wth is in those little capsules! Seriously, if they're directing more blood down south, what happens to the rest of the dude? "Yes, my johnson is huge, but is my arm supposed to be tingling like this? And why am I drooling uncontrollably??"
The other ads were equally hilarious and troubling, which leads me to believe that the demographic for G4 is Snuggly-wearing, small-penis having, Rascal-driving, SlapChop-buying potheads (as evidenced by their promos for their planned 4/20 movie event).
Now that's just good TV!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
New stuff!
Yay! I got new stuff!
I finally got a new camera and a new microwave today. Hurray! To celebrate, I took some pics of my darling bunnies after their bath this afternoon. They needed a bath in the afternoon due to the fudge pops I let them enjoy in the car... messy but fun!
Pics from the new camera:
The Jim - I took this one to try out the zoom and "anti-jiggle" feature. I actually took this while moving, which is why I cut off the top of his head. Oops! ;)
My bunnies:
Last AND least, a self-portrait:
The oven will just have to be put off a while longer. It still works (mostly), after all, and as a New Englander I simply cannot throw it out until it's 100%broken. As my Scottish great-grandma (reportedly) was famous for saying, "I'm not cheap, I'm frugal!"
Happy Saturday!!!
I finally got a new camera and a new microwave today. Hurray! To celebrate, I took some pics of my darling bunnies after their bath this afternoon. They needed a bath in the afternoon due to the fudge pops I let them enjoy in the car... messy but fun!
Pics from the new camera:
The Jim - I took this one to try out the zoom and "anti-jiggle" feature. I actually took this while moving, which is why I cut off the top of his head. Oops! ;)
My bunnies:
Last AND least, a self-portrait:
The oven will just have to be put off a while longer. It still works (mostly), after all, and as a New Englander I simply cannot throw it out until it's 100%broken. As my Scottish great-grandma (reportedly) was famous for saying, "I'm not cheap, I'm frugal!"
Happy Saturday!!!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Life's a long song
I was looking through some old pictures last night and feeling a little bit melancholy. It's really quite rare for me to feel that way, but it was a full moon, and I tend to get a little looney when the moon is full. I know it's weird, but it's true. I don't start ripping my clothes off and baying at the moon, but I do get irritable and short-tempered, and yes, a trifle weepy. It's like lunar PMS or something. Or actual PMS, but whatever.
Time is moving too quickly. My children are growing so fast that I don't feel like I am savoring it enough; I find myself wishing for bedtime when I should really be just enjoying spending time with these little guys whom I love so completely. I keep having moments when I imagine what it will be like when they're grown, or at least off at college, and I have all this free time to sit and drink wine and read my books and watch something other than SpongeBob and.... and GOD. It sounds fucking terrible! It sounds lonely! I'm having pre-emptive empty nest syndrome.
How to slow down time? How to enjoy every moment? How to be grateful enough?
I've never been one of those people for whom life is a given. I have always, even as a child, harbored a rather morbid part in my mind that goes to dark places pretty easily. If my mom was late from work, I'd sit in the window and cry, imagining her in a firey car accident. Nice, huh? My parents like to say I'm just the biggest worrier they've ever known, and that's partially true, but I think it's more like I just have no problem imagining the worst case scenerio for any given situation.
And here's where you're all gonna place me solidly into the "hippy-dippy metaphysical hoo-hah" category, but frankly I feel like I've been here before, and I think I've seen some crazy ass shit, and I think it makes it all the more easy to know that bad stuff happens to good people all the goddamn time. There is nothing in life that is a given, no guarantees. None. Everything wonderful can be wiped out in a heartbeat. Everything that irks you today, you will miss when it is gone.
I am so grateful for my life, which has felt charmed despite its hardships. I still have so much to learn, but feel like there's joy in that work. I just want to do right by everyone, including myself. When I am an old woman sitting alone in a quiet, empty house, I just want to feel like I've accomplished something worthwhile. I want to feel like I experienced life with all of its ugliness and beauty, and came out better for it in the end.
Time is moving too quickly. My children are growing so fast that I don't feel like I am savoring it enough; I find myself wishing for bedtime when I should really be just enjoying spending time with these little guys whom I love so completely. I keep having moments when I imagine what it will be like when they're grown, or at least off at college, and I have all this free time to sit and drink wine and read my books and watch something other than SpongeBob and.... and GOD. It sounds fucking terrible! It sounds lonely! I'm having pre-emptive empty nest syndrome.
How to slow down time? How to enjoy every moment? How to be grateful enough?
I've never been one of those people for whom life is a given. I have always, even as a child, harbored a rather morbid part in my mind that goes to dark places pretty easily. If my mom was late from work, I'd sit in the window and cry, imagining her in a firey car accident. Nice, huh? My parents like to say I'm just the biggest worrier they've ever known, and that's partially true, but I think it's more like I just have no problem imagining the worst case scenerio for any given situation.
And here's where you're all gonna place me solidly into the "hippy-dippy metaphysical hoo-hah" category, but frankly I feel like I've been here before, and I think I've seen some crazy ass shit, and I think it makes it all the more easy to know that bad stuff happens to good people all the goddamn time. There is nothing in life that is a given, no guarantees. None. Everything wonderful can be wiped out in a heartbeat. Everything that irks you today, you will miss when it is gone.
I am so grateful for my life, which has felt charmed despite its hardships. I still have so much to learn, but feel like there's joy in that work. I just want to do right by everyone, including myself. When I am an old woman sitting alone in a quiet, empty house, I just want to feel like I've accomplished something worthwhile. I want to feel like I experienced life with all of its ugliness and beauty, and came out better for it in the end.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
For my sweatpant lovin' homies
Two funny as shit clips that made me think of you. One of them contains Jason Bateman, who also happens to be a celebrity I want to boink. And how!
This is a new movie called Extract, and it comes from Mike Judge. So it's either gonna be a killer sleeper cult favorite like Office Space, or it's gonna be a suck-ass should-be-funny-but-not clunker like Idiocracy. Or, something in between. Btw, I saw this trailer first at WWTDD and then hunted it down on Youtube.
Love Kristin Wiig... and she's in SWEATPANTS, baby. Nice!
This second clip is one of my favorites from those awesome Kiwis, Flight of the Conchords. I missed their 2nd season but will be looking for it on DVD as soon as it's released. This video is from their first season, and it's a CLASSIC.
It's Business time:
It's awesome quote overload, people! "I only need two minutes... because it's so intense." BWAH!
This is a new movie called Extract, and it comes from Mike Judge. So it's either gonna be a killer sleeper cult favorite like Office Space, or it's gonna be a suck-ass should-be-funny-but-not clunker like Idiocracy. Or, something in between. Btw, I saw this trailer first at WWTDD and then hunted it down on Youtube.
Love Kristin Wiig... and she's in SWEATPANTS, baby. Nice!
This second clip is one of my favorites from those awesome Kiwis, Flight of the Conchords. I missed their 2nd season but will be looking for it on DVD as soon as it's released. This video is from their first season, and it's a CLASSIC.
It's Business time:
It's awesome quote overload, people! "I only need two minutes... because it's so intense." BWAH!
Don't get the wrong idea!
My post the other day about Frump Town, USA and my reluctance to become a middle-aged she-thing got me thinking. Some of my lovely readers mentioned feeling frumpy because they were reading the blog in their sweatpants with their hair up in a pony tail and their kids running around covered in various sticky substances. Well, I just want to clear some stuff up, lest you get the wrong idea about dear ol' Bev.
I am not glamorous or stylish in any way. I don't want to give off the impression that I am, since I value honesty above all things and besides, we might someday meet and I don't want you saying, "Jesus, Bev is a total hag in person!" So, let me paint you a picture of what the REAL Bev is all about, for those of you who I haven't had the pleasure of meeting me in "real" life. Yet. :)
1. I rotate the same work clothes all week long; I probably only have about 6 work outfits and I just mix and match the same tired crap all week long. Thank GOD I only work 4 days/week.
2. As I mentioned in comments, upon getting home for the night after work, I immediately discard the binding work duds and put on the raggedy scraps of flannel that make up my "comfy clothes." Favorites include green Life is Good flannel pants with giant daisies on them, blue plaid pj bottoms, and stretched-out black yoga pants that don't stay up very well, so I'm always tugging at them.
3. I do wear make-up, but not a lot. I will put on a touch of foundation for special occasions/going out, but most days it's just blush & mascara.
4. I don't even blow dry my hair unless I'm going out to be SOCIAL. The work asswipes get me with air-dried, frizzed out moptop hair. Hey, but at least I'm clean. They can suck it.
5. I only wear my contacts at work and for social stuff, so on days off I can be found with my Tina Fey glasses on, usually sliding down my nose because my little son keeps grabbing them and they're all stretched out now.
So, as you can see, while I go out of my way to look presentable around my friends and, to a lesser extent, my coworkers, when left to my own devices I live squarely in the middle of Frump Town, USA, and I'm totally ok with that. I just want to keep my residency part-time and not go all out into Zero Estrogen territory, ya know?
I had every intention of posting a couple of pics to illustrate my point, but it seems that I only uploaded relatively decent pics of myself to Photosucket, so I can't access the truly bad pics of myself until I get home. But, when not dressed up, I look a little something like this. ------>
End of public service announcement....
I am not glamorous or stylish in any way. I don't want to give off the impression that I am, since I value honesty above all things and besides, we might someday meet and I don't want you saying, "Jesus, Bev is a total hag in person!" So, let me paint you a picture of what the REAL Bev is all about, for those of you who I haven't had the pleasure of meeting me in "real" life. Yet. :)
1. I rotate the same work clothes all week long; I probably only have about 6 work outfits and I just mix and match the same tired crap all week long. Thank GOD I only work 4 days/week.
2. As I mentioned in comments, upon getting home for the night after work, I immediately discard the binding work duds and put on the raggedy scraps of flannel that make up my "comfy clothes." Favorites include green Life is Good flannel pants with giant daisies on them, blue plaid pj bottoms, and stretched-out black yoga pants that don't stay up very well, so I'm always tugging at them.
3. I do wear make-up, but not a lot. I will put on a touch of foundation for special occasions/going out, but most days it's just blush & mascara.
4. I don't even blow dry my hair unless I'm going out to be SOCIAL. The work asswipes get me with air-dried, frizzed out moptop hair. Hey, but at least I'm clean. They can suck it.
5. I only wear my contacts at work and for social stuff, so on days off I can be found with my Tina Fey glasses on, usually sliding down my nose because my little son keeps grabbing them and they're all stretched out now.
So, as you can see, while I go out of my way to look presentable around my friends and, to a lesser extent, my coworkers, when left to my own devices I live squarely in the middle of Frump Town, USA, and I'm totally ok with that. I just want to keep my residency part-time and not go all out into Zero Estrogen territory, ya know?
I had every intention of posting a couple of pics to illustrate my point, but it seems that I only uploaded relatively decent pics of myself to Photosucket, so I can't access the truly bad pics of myself until I get home. But, when not dressed up, I look a little something like this. ------>
End of public service announcement....
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
We need some Miss Clairol up in here!
One of the guys in my office is doing interviews for a new assistant, so we've had a steady stream of applicants coming through since Friday. All of them seem nice and go out of their way to be friendly to me for some odd reason; I have no power or say over whether they get the job or not, but I guess they don't know that. Well, I shouldn't say that I have NO say, because the guy who's hiring is actually one of my only actual friends in the office, and is THE only person from the office with whom I spend time outside of work.
So, I already vetoed the ballerina chick who seemed WAY too anal and intense to be a good fit for this rag-tag bunch o' hooligans, and we mutually vetoed the mole woman who showed up 20 minutes late. Seriously - she looked like a Simpsons character; big eyes, mousy hair bobbed to her chin in a jagged cut that looked suspiciously like it had been done with a Flowbee, nondescript brown trench coat that went to her ankles... eesh.
Hmm, what was my point again? Oh YEAH. So one of these applicants was especially friendly and talkative. I'm just sitting here, discretely reading dlisted and checking my email, and she is just going on and on and on. Turns out she has two sons, as do I, but her sons are ages 16 and 19. So, I'm doing some math here (don't be alarmed by the burning smell... happens every time I work wit' numbas) and I realize that she is probably in her mid-40's. Which means she is only 10 years older than I am, thereabouts.
Dude. The woman has that "MOM" vibe like no one else. She has the short gray hairdo, the cardigan sweater, the pleasantly-plump physique.
NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
But, well, I don't think I'll be looking quite that matronly in 10 years, ya know? God, I hope not! I dress appropriately for my age, sure, but I really don't think I'm gonna step off the ledge into Frump Town, USA that early on...?
I hope. Or maybe I'm just kidding myself and I'm doomed to give in to the gray hair and whatnot. It's the whatnot that scares me.
So, I already vetoed the ballerina chick who seemed WAY too anal and intense to be a good fit for this rag-tag bunch o' hooligans, and we mutually vetoed the mole woman who showed up 20 minutes late. Seriously - she looked like a Simpsons character; big eyes, mousy hair bobbed to her chin in a jagged cut that looked suspiciously like it had been done with a Flowbee, nondescript brown trench coat that went to her ankles... eesh.
Hmm, what was my point again? Oh YEAH. So one of these applicants was especially friendly and talkative. I'm just sitting here, discretely reading dlisted and checking my email, and she is just going on and on and on. Turns out she has two sons, as do I, but her sons are ages 16 and 19. So, I'm doing some math here (don't be alarmed by the burning smell... happens every time I work wit' numbas) and I realize that she is probably in her mid-40's. Which means she is only 10 years older than I am, thereabouts.
Dude. The woman has that "MOM" vibe like no one else. She has the short gray hairdo, the cardigan sweater, the pleasantly-plump physique.
NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
But, well, I don't think I'll be looking quite that matronly in 10 years, ya know? God, I hope not! I dress appropriately for my age, sure, but I really don't think I'm gonna step off the ledge into Frump Town, USA that early on...?
I hope. Or maybe I'm just kidding myself and I'm doomed to give in to the gray hair and whatnot. It's the whatnot that scares me.
Hey, LOTD'ers!
I should have posted this yesterday, but whoops, I just... didn't. Anyway, WELCOME to any folks who wandered over from List of the Day. Isn't Cary da bomb diggity?!
I hope you like my little spot in the blogosphere. Make yourselves at home; put your feet up on my coffee table, crack a beer, and watch a little bad TV with me, won't you?
I hope you like my little spot in the blogosphere. Make yourselves at home; put your feet up on my coffee table, crack a beer, and watch a little bad TV with me, won't you?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Rainy days & Mondays always get me down
And today it is both rainy AND a Monday. It's a double whammy!
So, the weekend was good, and restful. We had a real-live babysitter on Saturday night and went to see I Love You, Man with some friends of ours. It was a cute movie, but I got a little bored towards the end. There's that great short-attention span workin' for me. Yesterday I just sat around and read while Dh took the boys outside to play in the puddles. I only felt mildly guilty for being lazy, but mostly I was just glad we hadn't made any plans for the day.
Now I'm back at work, and my crazy-ass coworker is already bugging the shit out of me. She's got her 70-year-old panties in a wad because the electric stapler seems to be stapling things so that a sharp metal point juts out of the paper. I'll take a look at it and will probably be able to fix it, 'cause I'm a super office genius, don'tchaknow. But not right now, because she bugs me. :)
Also, she put her last ink cartridge into her printer, which means she wants me to order 3 more because she's like a compulsive office-supply hoarder and she can't STAND it when we use the last of anything. In about 3 minutes she'll come over to my desk with a Post-It note with the name of the ink cartridge on it. She's not allowed to order stuff because of her crazy supply issues, so she has to wait for me to do it. This is where I lord my AWESOME SUPPLY POWER(TM) over her by making her wait a couple of days before ordering them. Muahaahaa! I just love how anxious she gets, because WE know that she won't be running out of toner any time soon, but her OCD won't let her chill about it until the new cartridges are stacked neatly in her little cabinet.
Passive aggressive? Moi??? I don't know what you're talking about.
What's hilarious is that this is just the kind of crap that made Office Space such a gem of a movie. I mean, for real. It's just this type of assinine, nit-picky stuff that drives your average office worker bat-shit crazy on a daily basis! It's funny 'cause it's true!
But it's honestly not that funny when you're living it, and when your job title basically makes you the complaint department. And when you work with a bunch of uptight douchebags who think it's CRAZY IMPORTANT when the creamer gets low in the break room, or when there's a light bulb out in the parking lot.
Yeah, come to think of it, it's not funny at all. *sigh*
So, the weekend was good, and restful. We had a real-live babysitter on Saturday night and went to see I Love You, Man with some friends of ours. It was a cute movie, but I got a little bored towards the end. There's that great short-attention span workin' for me. Yesterday I just sat around and read while Dh took the boys outside to play in the puddles. I only felt mildly guilty for being lazy, but mostly I was just glad we hadn't made any plans for the day.
Now I'm back at work, and my crazy-ass coworker is already bugging the shit out of me. She's got her 70-year-old panties in a wad because the electric stapler seems to be stapling things so that a sharp metal point juts out of the paper. I'll take a look at it and will probably be able to fix it, 'cause I'm a super office genius, don'tchaknow. But not right now, because she bugs me. :)
Also, she put her last ink cartridge into her printer, which means she wants me to order 3 more because she's like a compulsive office-supply hoarder and she can't STAND it when we use the last of anything. In about 3 minutes she'll come over to my desk with a Post-It note with the name of the ink cartridge on it. She's not allowed to order stuff because of her crazy supply issues, so she has to wait for me to do it. This is where I lord my AWESOME SUPPLY POWER(TM) over her by making her wait a couple of days before ordering them. Muahaahaa! I just love how anxious she gets, because WE know that she won't be running out of toner any time soon, but her OCD won't let her chill about it until the new cartridges are stacked neatly in her little cabinet.
Passive aggressive? Moi??? I don't know what you're talking about.
What's hilarious is that this is just the kind of crap that made Office Space such a gem of a movie. I mean, for real. It's just this type of assinine, nit-picky stuff that drives your average office worker bat-shit crazy on a daily basis! It's funny 'cause it's true!
But it's honestly not that funny when you're living it, and when your job title basically makes you the complaint department. And when you work with a bunch of uptight douchebags who think it's CRAZY IMPORTANT when the creamer gets low in the break room, or when there's a light bulb out in the parking lot.
Yeah, come to think of it, it's not funny at all. *sigh*
Sunday, April 5, 2009
In honor of my oldest son
Who seems to be crapping his pants a lot lately.
Classic SNL sketch, "Oops, I crapped my pants!"
I remember when this bad boy aired. The next Monday my coworkers and I nearly had aneurysms from laughing so hard, quoting and riffing on it.
In other news, I don't wanna get old. Not if it means wearing a diaper, brah.
Classic SNL sketch, "Oops, I crapped my pants!"
I remember when this bad boy aired. The next Monday my coworkers and I nearly had aneurysms from laughing so hard, quoting and riffing on it.
In other news, I don't wanna get old. Not if it means wearing a diaper, brah.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Celebrity WTF's
I have a few things to get off my chest today regarding some celebrities. Bear with me - I obviously read far too many gossip sites during my daily blog crawls. I know it, and frankly, I'm okay with it. If that is one of my worst habits, I'll take it!
So, in no particular order:
W-T-F is up with Madonna's face?!
She has clearly had too much work done, and is fighting the aging process with a ferocity that I would expect from someone as strong-willed as Her Madgesty is rumored to be. So, I get the oddly line-free face, I get the eye job and brow lift and laser peels.
But, the cheekbones are new, right?
Am I wrong, or is she starting to look a leetle beet like:
Jocelyn Wildenstein, AKA The Cat Lady?
Right?! Aaaaaanyway.
W-T-F is up with Lindsay Lohan these days?!
Now, let it be known that I was pulling for this girl. I loved her in Mean Girls, and she was such a cute kid. What happened with her life as she grew up in the Hollywood spotlight is such an old story that it's almost a cliche, right? Child star with too much money, too much freedom, and God-awful parents develops a nasty drug & alcohol problem that ruins her credibility with movie-makers and fans. She starts losing jobs and spending too much money, does the obligatory sex tape, then amps it up a notch and gets lesbian cred with a fellow addict and fame-whore....
It's timeless, really. It's also freaking sad as hell, and it all comes down to parenting as far as I'm concerned, because you don't see Dakota Fanning and her kid sister out there stumbling out of clubs at 4 AM, now do ya?
Now, I hear Lindsay's thisclose to releasing a porno. Dude. W-T-F?
That's it for now 'cause I gotta run. Happy Saturday!
So, in no particular order:
W-T-F is up with Madonna's face?!
She has clearly had too much work done, and is fighting the aging process with a ferocity that I would expect from someone as strong-willed as Her Madgesty is rumored to be. So, I get the oddly line-free face, I get the eye job and brow lift and laser peels.
But, the cheekbones are new, right?
Am I wrong, or is she starting to look a leetle beet like:
Jocelyn Wildenstein, AKA The Cat Lady?
Right?! Aaaaaanyway.
W-T-F is up with Lindsay Lohan these days?!
Now, let it be known that I was pulling for this girl. I loved her in Mean Girls, and she was such a cute kid. What happened with her life as she grew up in the Hollywood spotlight is such an old story that it's almost a cliche, right? Child star with too much money, too much freedom, and God-awful parents develops a nasty drug & alcohol problem that ruins her credibility with movie-makers and fans. She starts losing jobs and spending too much money, does the obligatory sex tape, then amps it up a notch and gets lesbian cred with a fellow addict and fame-whore....
It's timeless, really. It's also freaking sad as hell, and it all comes down to parenting as far as I'm concerned, because you don't see Dakota Fanning and her kid sister out there stumbling out of clubs at 4 AM, now do ya?
Now, I hear Lindsay's thisclose to releasing a porno. Dude. W-T-F?
That's it for now 'cause I gotta run. Happy Saturday!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
You can call me Al.
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
I've never liked my name much. I've made my peace with it, but I just still have no idea where my parents came up with Beverly as a name for me. I mean, Beverly is kind of an old-lady name. It's not Agnes or Mildred or anything, but it's up there. I have one of those baby name books left over from when I was trying to think of wtf to name my children, and it is supposed to tell you what other people think of your name. Like we care, right? But anyway, the general consensus of that book was that, for many people, my name conjures images of overweight waitresses.
NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT. Ha.
My sister has vivid memories of being six years old and voicing her objection to my parents' choice of names for me, before I was born. If only they'd listened to her! I will say that as a kid, my classmates were hard-pressed to come up with a terrible nickname for me, apart from Beverly Hillbilly (clever) and, once puberty hit, Beverly's Hills. What can I say? I've got jugs. (shrug)
I am a huuuuge fan of nicknames. Once I like someone, one of the first things I do is to come up with something goofy to call them. Hey, we all have our quirks, and that is one of mine... and that's just scratchin' the surface. Sometime in the mid-90's I dubbed myself bevtastic and it has been my email moniker ever since. I also answer to Bev (duh), Bevy, Bevster, The Bev, Bevelaqua, and... wait for it... Beaver. Yeah. Whatever. My name actually means "From the Beaver meadow," so the fact that it's also a euphemism for the nether regions doesn't bother me too much. Besides, I'm kind of a dirty minded little freak, so it's all good in the hood. ;)
Recently I took one of those FB quizzes which asked: if you could change your name, what would you change it to? I was stumped. I had no answer at all! For all that I don't care for my name, I don't know what I'd change it to if I was so inclined.
So, I guess I'm gonna stick with being the Beav.
What about you? Do you like your name? If you could change it, what would you change it to?
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
I've never liked my name much. I've made my peace with it, but I just still have no idea where my parents came up with Beverly as a name for me. I mean, Beverly is kind of an old-lady name. It's not Agnes or Mildred or anything, but it's up there. I have one of those baby name books left over from when I was trying to think of wtf to name my children, and it is supposed to tell you what other people think of your name. Like we care, right? But anyway, the general consensus of that book was that, for many people, my name conjures images of overweight waitresses.
NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT. Ha.
My sister has vivid memories of being six years old and voicing her objection to my parents' choice of names for me, before I was born. If only they'd listened to her! I will say that as a kid, my classmates were hard-pressed to come up with a terrible nickname for me, apart from Beverly Hillbilly (clever) and, once puberty hit, Beverly's Hills. What can I say? I've got jugs. (shrug)
I am a huuuuge fan of nicknames. Once I like someone, one of the first things I do is to come up with something goofy to call them. Hey, we all have our quirks, and that is one of mine... and that's just scratchin' the surface. Sometime in the mid-90's I dubbed myself bevtastic and it has been my email moniker ever since. I also answer to Bev (duh), Bevy, Bevster, The Bev, Bevelaqua, and... wait for it... Beaver. Yeah. Whatever. My name actually means "From the Beaver meadow," so the fact that it's also a euphemism for the nether regions doesn't bother me too much. Besides, I'm kind of a dirty minded little freak, so it's all good in the hood. ;)
Recently I took one of those FB quizzes which asked: if you could change your name, what would you change it to? I was stumped. I had no answer at all! For all that I don't care for my name, I don't know what I'd change it to if I was so inclined.
So, I guess I'm gonna stick with being the Beav.
What about you? Do you like your name? If you could change it, what would you change it to?
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The camera's swan song
I salvaged the memory card from my busted camera and found some truly hysterical shit. Apparently putting away 5 bottles of wine in a 4-hour period causes you to think you're Tyra fucking Banks on location with America's Next Top Model.
Observe:
Mala can't raise on eyebrow without tactual assistance, whereas I can, but end up looking like a drunken pirate in the process. Arrrr, mateys!
In the next shot, Mala's doing her patented "sexy face," her daughter M. is totally photobombing us, and I'm saying "prune" like an Olsen twin.
Shoot, I think Mala's face got stuck in "sexy face" mode! I didn't get the memo and was back in "I'm druuuuunk & inordinately happy" mode. Oops.
Yes, our teeth are slightly purple. Your eyes do not deceive you.
And these are the pictures that I didn't delete and deny ever existed.
Right after this picture was taken, I dropped the camera and it went night-night forever.
The End.
Observe:
Mala can't raise on eyebrow without tactual assistance, whereas I can, but end up looking like a drunken pirate in the process. Arrrr, mateys!
In the next shot, Mala's doing her patented "sexy face," her daughter M. is totally photobombing us, and I'm saying "prune" like an Olsen twin.
Shoot, I think Mala's face got stuck in "sexy face" mode! I didn't get the memo and was back in "I'm druuuuunk & inordinately happy" mode. Oops.
Yes, our teeth are slightly purple. Your eyes do not deceive you.
And these are the pictures that I didn't delete and deny ever existed.
Right after this picture was taken, I dropped the camera and it went night-night forever.
The End.
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