This blog has moved...INDEED.

If you're some highfalutin' techie head who'll be curating random blog content for the next century, then you should read this:

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Otherwise, let's carry on, shall we? Blog has been migrated, thoughts are stirring, and I may start this haphazard thing up again. Or at least I've got it ready to do such a thing.

Setting up a blog ain't what it used to be. It's easier and harder all at the same time.

More on that later. President Barack Obama may be on the verge of not only recognizing same-sex marriage, but of supporting it outright. We do have an election coming up this November. Could make things very interesting in the coming months...

Everybody Wants One

I have one too.

A blog.

And now, gentle reader/s, for your existential musing, I give you...


David Lee Roth. At the height of his career. Flexible, manly, golden-haired, Rock God.

Now that's some success right there.

What's it like to be jacked up in midair, suspended by your own acrobatic prowess, above thousands of fist-pumping, testosterone-fueled males and drooling, ambitious, easily undressed women?

Do you stop in your mind and go "Wow. I did it. I've always wanted this. This is right where I want to be. I am so grateful for this."
OR
Do you belt out more lyrics, scream high-pitched wails and be mindful of the position of your legs coming down from 90 degrees to the floor and remember to land gracefully while possibly fully baked by some kind of alcohol/drug cocktail?

Do you look out far into the audience and think "There's some young kid out there who is so grateful to see me here. I'm glad he came."
OR
Do you run around and smash into your guitar player, mold your audience, getting them to all clap above their heads until they lose all muscle function, wail some more with glee and rip into another song with drums and bass throbbing so loud you can hardly remember to breathe?

Does the work you put in take so much out of you that joy is more of a performance than it is your actual state of mind? Do you get to pause to identify your own experience while you're in it? Does it take until years later for you to recognize what you had? Are you able to reflect on it in some random moment on a street corner in some major city on your way to get a meal? Do you have to be near death to smile about what you've accomplished?

May we all be exhilarated by what we are doing and be aware in that moment that it is everything we have ever wanted.

"Jingle" All The Way

There's a long hallway I have to traverse every morning from the office back entrance to my desk: Bland linoleum tile grounded under bland off white walls with high, industrial ceilings. Along the passageway there are open doors leading to studios, bathrooms, other hallways and gathering areas. One sharp turn around a mailroom keeps it from being practically a catwalk.

When you're standing on one end of the hallway, you can hear someone coming from the other end, so heels can make quite a clatter. On any given day, I'm wearing some shoe creation that has a squeak or a scrunch or whine effect of some sort. It seems to become amplified exponentially when I walk that hallway.

On more occasions than I can remember (like today), I am immediately reminded of Zelda Rubenstein (pictured) as the organist in Sixteen Candles; an aging small person in a matronly dress, shuffling down the church aisle to take her place. The camera remains still as she walks with her back to it. You can hear a loud swishing of what must be a half pint of rum or some other spirit she keeps on her person. It's a subtle, sad, silly noise and it adds a dimension to her otherwise prim and visibly annoyed character.

In my case, the noise my shoe is making instantly inspires awkwardness. If any of my younger counterparts were walking behind me, would they hear it? Would they think I was too heavy in my shoes? Would they think I looked and sounded cheap?
Was I walking funny too? A litany of self-conscious thoughts plagues me until I arrive in an area that's noisier than my perceived apparel cacophony.

Safely at my desk after that morning's "creak", it's only a matter of time before I'll face that walk again, and the lightly lingering worry that someone will find cause to mock or otherwise disparage my already fragile fashion sense.

Thanks John Hughes.

The End of The Affair

It's been a year since I've been on Facebook.

When I started, I was semi-ecstatic to be on it; locating friends, finding new applications to play with, responding to posts, commenting on status messages, reconnecting with people I haven't seen in 20+ years...it was some kind of silly bliss. I felt like some door in my life had opened and I was looking at the past and present all at once.

Then people I worked with were all there and it felt like I was involved in sidebars noone else at work knew about. It was kind of like a private joke, only noone was really walking around laughing with eachother. Then in-laws and other family got in on it and I was learning more about their daily lives and they mine.

It's now become part of my everyday life - I post one to three times a day, check it almost compulsively from my iPhone (they've finally done decent work on the app for it, I must say), and talk about it with my friends at least once a day. The luster of discovering new ways to interact with it has worn off. I find myself on it simply as a way to catch up with everyone now...it's no longer a pretty, glistening toy in my hand.

I'm not sure how I feel about it either. Part of me is happy that I have all these people in my life, and it's nice to see what people are doing and how they are. On the other hand, it's work to catch up - it's like an added responsibility to an already busy existence. Am I going to feel guilty for not posting a status tomorrow? What if someone friend requests me and I don't even check for two or three days? Will that make me look like a callous, Faux Facebooker?

And I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop from their end...will they start charging for "subscriptions"? Will there be ads that start popping up all over the place while I'm responding to a post?

Where do we go from here, Facebook? Don't leave me hanging, or I'm gonna start scanning the web for a new thingamajig. It's not a threat or anything, but I don't know how long I can commit without some kind of blueprint for our future together...

If I could time travel...

I'd go to New York City: 1980 - 1982
I'd go to the Village and hob nob with the punkers and go to CBGBs and dance at New Wave Clubs. I'd wear horrendous amounts of neon and black and shop at vintage shops. I think Canal Street Jeans would be in business - I'd hit that spot for SURE!


Maybe I'd run into Blondie or Madonna along the way...

Epilogue: Facebook in the living room with the candlestick

Ok, so I read a book I liked, commented on it on Goodreads, by way of Facebook, and shared my review on this blog, also via Facebook. It in turn apparently posted some links either directly back to Facebook, or to Goodreads. One of THOSE links must have gone to an area where they ask for your info or permission to add their app if you're coming from an FB* page.

My head is spinning. That whole debacle needs to be diagrammed like a genealogy chart.

So then, Google and friends** on this WWW thingy we're all using, determined there was something bad coming off my site and shot up warnings to visitors. Scary. All that time I spent, when all I had to do was check out that post and take out the links. Why didn't someone just see that and tell me? Would it have been so hard? Oy.

And now the hidden moral in this story: Make sure you say what you mean to whom you want to say it. Don't depend on someone or some THING to do it for you. They'll put their own spin on it ;)

And goddammit, wouldn'tcha know it, I came online to finally organize my small little wine collection and got distracted by little side dramas. This ALWAYS happens. Suddenly it'll be 10pm and I'll wake up with my head on the desk wondering what happened.

There's a moral there of some sort as well. However, I can only afford one per post during these hard times, and I don't have the time to think of one cause I'm not supposed to be here right now(insert emoticon of me sticking tongue out)!

The End.

ps. New Guilty Pleasure: I get a kick out of putting Legos together. Spencer has been asking for the Star Wars Death Star since he first saw it like in August of last year. I'm at the point where I think I'd buy it if we could afford it — just so I could say I could put it together.


*FB = Facebook
**friends = Any various search engine/algorithm-y utility that monitors sites we all access

ATTACK of the web clutter

Whatever.

I haven't posted here in awhile, and I guess it's on me that suddenly Google (who owns Blogger, the tool I use to publish here) is blocking access and saying there is "Badware" somehow causing problems for users. HUH?

I'm being told to review my source code, but if I go to the site, I get blocked from accessing it.
This is like Irony, Catch 22, Murphy's Law and who knows what else, all balled up in one bad web experience.

I think I need to purge.
I have a Facebook page, a Twitter account, Blogger, two hosted sites, two photo gallery pages, and countless email accounts, Instant Messaging and poor eyesight.

I'm so overwhelmed I don't even have anything else to say. I want to run screaming.

My apologies to anyone having trouble when accessing my site. I swear I have NO idea what's happening.
If you access my site and something like malware or a bad weird link shows up, let me know.

ugh.

Now reading this...

Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris


Watching the HBO series True Blood inspired me to check this out. Fun, fast reading. I may continue on with the series of books once I finish the other two books I've been reading for two + months...

Toe in the Water

Testing mobile access... Check 1,2
_______________________________________________________

Holy Creeaaap it worked. AND it worked FAST. Ah, modern technology. They made this thing faster since I last posted regularly. I feel like someone's grandmother. "Next thing you'll be tellin' me they got the time travel!"

It's actually not far off. They have nano-tvs already, so who knows. Unless that particle blaster underground wherever that is turns Earth into a black hole - then it's all for naught.

I have complaints to register, but since I'm getting all cozy in this post, I'll save it for the next one.

For now, a small victory in getting things up and running again.

Ah HA!!!!!

I can update the blog from my phone, etc.
Checkout twitter.com

Not useful or relevant for some, but for self-absorbed ranters like moi, it makes indulging the "pen" easy peasy. I love iPhone and I love Apple and I love "The Internets".

I Was A Teenage Spencer Lexicon

dis! = What is this?
mies! = Mine!
crickeh-noise = Cricket Noise, or, "Please read The Very Quiet Cricket by Eric Carle"
monters=monsters
jackeh-off = Take your jacket off please
tefone=Telephone
leddurhs!=Letters! I will take a bath now! (we have these foam alphabet and numeral forms that stick to the tile. He loves to throw them in while the water fills the tub.
wawa = Water, please.
iduvu = I love you*

* my personal favorite

I May Be Hysterical But I'm Not Crazy!

It's real.

See this?

This is the Holy Grail of snack foods.

Koogle Chocolate Peanut Spread.

You put this on a Saltine cracker, and by golly, you'll be the happiest kid on the planet. I have brought this up in many a nostalgia conversation, only to be stared at blankly. I thought it was called 'Google' or 'Googles' - I mean look at the googly eyes! But finally someone in some forum somewhere had a full topic devoted to it and through the use of the real Google, I found it.


I'm delirious! I'm ecstatic!
I'm crushed. Kraft hasn't made it since 1970-something.
So I did what any civic-minded mother would do: I emailed them and asked for it to be brought back. I'm sure they'll get right on it...after they finish with whatever sale or merger they're completing.


And look! I found another gem from my youth!
Les Fleurs, by Alyssa Ashley - an alternative to Love's Baby Soft.

This perfume got me compliments from boys at a time when I thought I was a tomboy ugly duckling punka wannabe. It smelled sweet as I recall, and cool and fruity but not like candy. I could buy it out of the box somewhere but it's probably as old as I am.

Yep, I wrote to that company too. I mean why not? Two sensory joys from my youth reappear in one evening; there is NO way I'm gonna let this slide. And for anyone who found either of these here by Googling the terms, shoot me a line and let's lobby together to get them both back!

If we're going to have to wear straight-leg jeans again, I think we at least deserve to see other retro things that we actually LIKE!

Ok, next month, I'll talk about wedge heels, my son's love of Christmas songs in February(fitting since decorations are still up on the house), and why New York City is the greatest place on Earth that doesn't have blue water.

Holiday in a Nut(krackee)shell

Ok, 1,2,3, Christmas came on hard and fast and caught me unawares.
The tree was up and decorated before I could even say "PLEASE CLEAN UP ALL THAT DANG POPCORN!" (in our house, a popcorn garland on the tree is as necessary as March of the Wooden Soldiers after Thanksgiving. Nutcrackers lined the mantle and had my son singing a song of six nutcrackers every day. Now, I have none of these things we call "traditions", except for trying to make sure I gorge on lobster as much as possible.

I bought all Guy's presents in like two days and we did Spencer the week before, and wrapped all the presents Christmas Eve. We had a dinner party for Guy's office the night before Christmas Eve which snuck up on me like the flu. Luckily, Guy is the party planner, decorator, chef and host for these events, so I just dress nice and act like Spencer's mom. We did Xmas eve together and Spencer got all of Christmas Day and I mean the WHOLE day. Thank god toddlers nap.

We had trickle-down extendo-Christmas with relatives - I didn't see mine until January 2 and we just drove up to and back from Long Island yesterday to see Guy's family.

As far as I can tell, we're done. We haven't had the lights lit in a few days but they're still out there and while Guy has magically gotten the tree out of the house before it blanketed the corner of our living room with a lush blanket of pine needles, the lights I fear will linger on our yard until March, at which time we'll be having our Sopranos "New Season" Party, and we'll be able to light them for effect.

Speaking of NEW: Howard Stern will re-emerge on Sirius Satellite in a few hours, and we're ready. I can technically broadcast the satellite signal in my house to radios. Bye Bye Terrestrial Radio! I am nearly weeping with glee. Which reminds me, don't watch Extreme Home Makeover. You'll cry with happiness for the family who gets all the goodies, and then you'll spit with jealousy over the AWESOME digs these people get while you're sitting in your lounge chair with springs boinging out of it.

More Spencer Vernacular to come. He's almost onto sentences and yesterday spent the entire day carrying around a little book about Santa Clause and a mini-tarot card guide. He looked like a little missionary at Guy's parent's house. He would not put them down. If you ask him his name, he says "Book". I am not kidding.

Segue #2: Bad "fortunes"... To start off the new year right, my PC crashed and from my conversation/testing with Dell (which cost about 200 for the year) today, I determined my hard drive was erased during whatever event caused the crash. I am starting over in 2006 and it appears to be the case whether I like it or not.

Spencer Lexicon, v.2

checkup=ketchup
chain=train
chee=tree
happen=what happened?
hep=help
mets or metch=mine
woowoo=train
wiggles= Eagles

There are more every day.

Spencerese on Planet Earth

Arella=Cinderella
Baws=Balls
Increnals =Incredibles
KeeKees = Candy Canes
Krackee=Nutcracker
Srek =Shrek
Tractee=Tractor
Up=Put a movie on

Ok, while I sit here typing, I am watching a DVD borrowed from a friend at work.
The subject? Duran Duran Live in Japan, either late 2004 or early 2005. There was an interview and now we're into the concert.

I'm sorry, but it appears they're just using the Japan shows as rehearsal time and it's all awkward. The energy is lacking, the backing vocals are sampled instead of live, and they all keep checking with eachother - almost like they're testing stuff. Weird. Made me wonder if other big bands do that - go to other countries to "rehearse" their live shows before they bring 'em here. Ok what the...they're singing What Happens Tomorrow and there's a WHOLE bridge/verse/segue thing I've never heard. AND they are really lacking as a live act. They should not have filmed this or let it get out to the public. I've never been so critical. I feel like a traitor. Please forgive me.

Now, on the other hand, Simon's voice is MUCH stronger and clearer than I've ever heard it(despite being pitchy). Would I still like to kiss him? The 13-year old inside me says YES!

When I go to give Spencer a kiss we go "mmmmmmm wa!"
The other day, he kept pushing Guy and I together so we would kiss. It was the best.
What is NOT the best, is when your 19 month old hurls ornaments in the Christmas store.
I have never been so embarrassed or laughed so hard.

Duran Duran, come back and play my town again and take me out dancing.
Spencer, don't grow up too fast.
Katie, go to bed, you're making NO sense.
Domo Aregato

Dental Independence

Well, it's been while. Not all that long in normal human time, but where
toddlers are concerned it's been an age.

This morning, I was summoned to the bathroom by my beaming, foaming at the
mouth husband, who pointed down and to my left as I walked in the room.
There, standing at the side of the sink on a toddler-made stepstool, was my
boy, with my toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, using his hand to make
the motions of a little boy brushing his teeth.

I am flabbergasted even writing it down.
My son was brushing his teeth with his father this morning.
I don't know whether to be proud of this development, or to mourn the loss
of his innocence.

People, my son is a boy.
He even knows the Eagles cheer, except he says "Wiggles" at the end instead
of "Eagles".

Time really does fly.
I'm afraid next he'll be asking for car keys. Oh wait he does do that, only
he hasn't the strength to turn the key in the ignition yet.
I'm sure that will be next week after he figures out how to take milk out of
the fridge and leave it on the floor with the door open...

Dear Frito Lay:

Crunchy Cheetos are potentially the world's greatest snackfood.
I have only one issue to raise: The orange residue or "cheesidue" left on my
thumb and forefinger after delighting in these crispy delectables.

Sirs, we can put a man on the moon, clone dogs and make it seem like pop
stars are singing live before thousands when they are silently miming to a
pre-recorded track. Certainly, you must be able to concoct some formula that
makes it possible for me to snack on Cheetos AND continue working at my
computer without turning the keys a brighter shade of vermillion.

I look forward to your response, and or the release of New and Improved
Non-Shmutzing Cheetos.

Gastronomically Yours,
Hysterical Female

Jaws II Oral Fixation

Say hello to Richard Kiehl. He was the giant actor who played the character "Jaws" in several Bond flicks. Those metal chompers could seriously do damage.

Now, imagine if you will, my reaction yesterday morning when the evil dentist explained to me that the temporary crown I'd be wearing for the next month was going to be made of stainless steel.

Yes, folks, I was a tad distressed. Fast forward to today (now yesterday) and I feel exactly like the picture of Jaws here, only my humour is generally much more sour. One break I suppose: I do not have a lump in the middle of my forehead as far as I know. Regardless, I have as much metal in my mouth as I do on my fingers. That is NOT acceptable.

The dentist told me I'd be experiencing some hot and cold sensitivity.
No duh.
Typically when metal gets hot or cold, things around it get the same. Like, that's why we make most cocktail shakers out of stainless steel - to spread the cold around. When steel gets hot enough, it will actually melt!

Ok and another thing, I can't really chew stuff, so there goes Halloween gorging.
F'ers. I wonder how old I'll be when dentures start to really look attractive. Oh my head.

I saw Spencer for all of 30 minutes this morning. Guy told me today that Spencer is having great bonding moments with his caregivers in daycare. I nearly burst into tears at the thought of some stranger bonding with my son more than I do. Oh, wait, I did cry. Just not out loud. You cannot have your cake and eat it too. It's too much. People who do, have eating disorders and drug problems. I wanted to work full time, so boo hoo.

I need a pedicure and I can't close my mouth. Guess what else? I want to wear my jeans tucked into boots, and all my pants are too flared and sort of too baggy. I need to get snug, tapered jeans. EEEEEEEEEEEEW. Fashion mags are showing tapered jeans slouched/pulled down over flats and heels. It's positively disgusting. Didn't anyone watch the American Bandstand rerun marathons on VH1? Some trends are NOT meant to be repeated. Seriously.

I will now attempt to finish this post before I go totally "cyclops"; meaning I get so sleepy that I can only see out of one eye because the other is closed.

Goodnight and good lunch.

Random Notes

Entertainment:
Napoleon Dynamite is hilarious. See it immediately. You will never look at steak, Kool Aid or glamour photos the same again. A word of warning: If you didn't like Raising Arizona, you definitely will not like this.

If you can't see that, see Garden State. Zach Braff (writer, director and star) has a long future ahead of him IMHO.

I just watched Dolly Parton sing "9 to 5" accompanied by her fingernails on Extra. Oy vey.

Nicole Richie is "bothered" by rumors she has an eating disorder, but, ah, for the record, on Extra there was no outright denial, nor was there an explanation, like "I've been so busy, or 'Simple Life' was all I had and now I'm depressed", or "I have hyperthyroid"...nuttin.

HBO does it again: It took a little bit to get going, but Rome is really getting good. For instance, Cleopatra is a sex-crazed opium addict. You can't miss!

Fashion:
Do not read Lucky magazine. You will start spending money for no good reason.

Why are big belts back, and why did I buy THREE?

Trend alert: Be on the lookout for vest sweaters and cardigans.
fishnet stockings should be all the rage in a month or so and then they'll go the way of the Dodo when women get tired of the pantyhose thing again.

Every accessory addict's dream: www.bagborroworsteal.com

Health and Home:
I hate going to the dentist. Hate it. I can't remember EVER walking out of a dentist's office saying "Wow I feel so much better!"
Speaking of which, when will the Tylenol 3 (with Codeine thank you very much) I took an hour ago fully kick in?

There is a show on HGTV called "How Clean is Your House?": As if most of us aren't already completely self-conscious about how we appear to our friends and neighbors.

My intestines were attacked by a McDonald's milkshake today. No joke.

Codeine update: I think it's starting to set, but I'm not sure.

Best Pizza so far in the area: Cocco's. Don't live near one? Oh well, too bad for you.
Children/FamilySpencer is my son (just in case you didn't know) and he's really cute. He can say "All Done" and "Elmo". He turned eighteen months old yesterday. He's going to a three-year old's birthday party on Saturday and we don't know who the boy is.

Take your kids to Linvilla Orchards before Halloween. They're having a whole pumpkin festival thing with hayrides and apple everything. Just go.

Bono is God (or at least I wish he was)

After much hand-wringing and waiting by the phone, my connection for U2 tickets came through and we saw them tonight. It was their second show at the Wachovia Center, and it was kickass.

Frigging Bruce Springsteen showed up for the first encore. How about them apples? They did some great old songs and of course new ones, AND treated us all to a new song they're working on called "Fast Cars". It had a tango-y Spanish thing going on about it and I'm looking forward to its eventual release.

So we had these crazy nosebleed seats all the way in the top of the joint. I mean it. The very tip top. If you are going to a show there and your tickets are on the mezzanine, you're going to be sitting almost straight up the entire show. I mean, they're playing "I Will Follow" as we're climbing upwards towards our seats, so natch, I turn to Guy and say loudly, "It's more like 'I Will FALL'."

I have to say, I was pretty much on that level of clever all night through.

Something did happen though that's really buggin' me ("I don't mean to bug ya", heh heh). Not 10 minutes into the show, it appears that some ground level section curtains have this weird formation that look like a cross with light coming through. I couldn't stop staring at it. Is this Bono character special in some way? Does U2 have a line in to the big house? Bono is the ONLY rock legend I know of who can sing his face off, keep a beat, engage as many humans in the room as possible and tell you why human rights and world peace are achievable all in the same moment.

I kid you not, the man had a whole stadium full of fans absolutely quiet while he told a story about the song "Miss Sarajevo" and then sang his heart out, including the Pavarotti part! The man can really sing. Brought tears to my oversensitive eyes.

So anyway, back to this cross thing...I've been wondering if Bono isn't the modern day messiah. Then again, I highly doubt the other side of the Wachovia center could see this curtain aberration, so it's probably just me having concert catharsis.

Lesson: When your concertgoing experience leads you to feel as if you've been enlightened, then it probably means it was a good show.