Friday, September 30, 2005

The Bed List/The Dinner List


Stuart Townsend doesn't get nearly the press he should. Yum. I think I fell for him as Dorian Gray in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (which, by the way, is underrated fun as long as you're willing not only to suspend disbelief, but slip it a mickey and let it crash on your couch for about two hours), but I'm excited I'll have more opportunities to drool over him on Night Stalker. That Charlize Theron is one lucky gal.


Sean Connery is the original extraordinary gentleman himself. You could close your eyes and listen to him for hours. Love the Scottish accent, love the growly voice. Of course, he's extremely easy to look at, even if he is a decade older than my dad. Had I a way-back machine, I'd zip back to the early sixties and the best James Bond. Then he'd go on the bed list. Hmm. Threesome with Stuart and Sean...007, circa 1962? I'd be shaken and stirred!

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Croup Dogg

Baby girl wakes up calling for the seals. Bark. Bark. Bark. She appears to have croup. Time to call in for a sub and play Florence Nightgown, as my mom used to say. DS is happy since he gets to wake up later and go to school at a normal time, rather than the crack of dawn like usual, and DD is loving the whole stay-on-the-sofa-and-watch-DVDs vibe du jour.

Of course, in less than an hour she proclaims she's bored and wants to go to the mall, but what did you expect? Calling in to stay home with your kid who may or may not be this generation's Typhoid Mary is like taking the umbrella when it looks like rain--pretty much guarantees that the microbes will slink back under their rock and release your kid from their evil grasp.

Oh, well. No school for me today. Instead, I get to finish moving the toys back into my son's room so we can finish off the living room. That, and grade papers. Joy. At least I'll feel more caught up, for once.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

School Pix

I sent the kidlets off to school in their best, as it is picture day today. DS is stylin' in his Hawaiian shirt (and rooster tail in the back of his head, I'm sure, despite the gel), while DD is twelve kinds of cute in a green--excuse me, "Frog"--sleeveless scoopneck (and bangs in her face, I'm sure, despite the gel). They'll both photograph beautifully because they always do.

I get to school and the nice kid from yearbook drops off my free picture package. I look. I cringe. I think three words: "Manatee in lipstick."


Note to self: Check lighting level before allowing them to click the shutter on retake day. Straight-on lighting will result in yet another bullfrog-in-a-wig-style photo. Better lighting reveals that I actually have both a chin and a neck. Insist on it.

Friday, September 23, 2005

The Bed List/The Dinner List

By special request (waving to Bubbles!!), I proudly present...


My friend Melissa is one die-hard Jersey girl. She's die-hard in love/lust with Jon Bon Jovi, too. Now I have to admit that normally, the Northeast doesn't do much for me, being a Southern gal and all, but I have to give her Jon Bon Jovi. He's hot. He's talented. He can rock you out with the full band and get you to take your clothes off in those more intimate acoustic moments. Plus, he's witty and generous (did you hear about his huge donation to Katrina victims when he was on Oprah?). Yep, total package. I'd give him plenty of reasons to give love a bad name!


In past years, Mick might have been the hot rock guy I'd like to get out of his clothes, but considering that he's just slightly younger than my dad (and happens to share Daddy's birthday, which is bizarre if you've ever met my dad), I'll steer clear of the bedroom, thanks. Maybe gourmet food and something awesome in chocolate, with plenty of after-dinner talk about rock 'n roll and--what else?--how to get some, er, satisfaction.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Mahna Mahna (do doo be-do-do)

I'm watching a commercial for Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper when my childhood comes rushing back!! In it, a blonde is on a date. She takes a sip of DCVDP, and suddenly every droning word out of her date's mouth becomes "Mahna mahna," and everyone in the restaurant choruses, "Do doo be-do-do." The Muppets live! I sang along! I felt about twelve years old--which is, of course, how old I was when this song made its debut on The Muppet Show, but I digress!!

Anyone else feel uncontrollable, giddy laughter when they saw this one? Did you sing along? If you can't remember how the song goes, read the lyrics
and download an audio clip here. Trust me. It'll come back to you.

Friday, September 16, 2005

The Bed List/The Dinner List

Awesome, yet so underappreciated...


I don't know about you, but I was seriously put out when Boromir bit it in The Fellowship of the Ring. I love staring at Sean Bean. I love listening to Sean Bean. I find it difficult to do anything but drool over Sean Bean, even when he's playing a major bad guy, like he does in Goldeneye and Patriot Games. He's so much more wonderful as a hero! Check out DVDs of the Sharpe series (Sharpe's Rifles, etc.) and Black Beauty to see what I mean. Come on over, Sean. I can show you a real ring of power...


John C. Reilly's big number in Chicago, "Mr. Cellophane," laments "you can look right through me, walk right by me, and never know I'm there." Too bad that's too often the case with John C. Reilly. He turns in terrific performances every time he's onscreen, and the usual reaction is, "That was him?" I'll notice, John. Come on over Tuesday.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Amazing Disappearing Wife

Today I had the privilege of hauling self out of bed to go back to school for an inservice training. Sometimes inservice is like volunteering to tour the eighth circle of hell, but this morning's was pretty good. Stuff I can use, even.

Since DH and DS were out doing boy things when I called to say I was finished, I hied myself to the mall. Walked. Matched paint samples for my lovely neighbor. Then decided to get a makeover.

I must confess here that I have never been a girly girl. I do okay with hair and makeup, but I am definitely a low-maintenance female when it comes to cosmetics and "product." Less is more. But once you cross the "new thirty" barrier, you wonder if your look is calcified into 1992, so off to Prescriptives you go. In my case, that is. The gal in the black T-shirt looked more approachable than the lab coat at Clinique or the terribly fashionable pair at Shiseido.

We spend an hour matching foundation colors (Yellow-orange for my skin? I look like death on toast in orange clothes!!), playing with eye shadow, and setting my makeup with their totally cool magic powder, which feels like water going on. Then, eight hours after I left, it's back home to my live-in Fashion Cop, aka DH, to get the final seal of approval.

Thumbs down. He hates it.
As in, "Where did my wife go?" "Spackle" was mentioned (He is so exaggerating. She did a great job.) So much for my great foray into expensive, "I'm worth $38 foundation, right?" territory. Back to the drug store. Anyone have any suggestions?

Friday, September 09, 2005

The Bed List/The Dinner List

Coupla guys!


He's no virgin, and neither am I. But he is fortyish, smart, and hilarious. And cute, in a non-threatening-guy-in-the-back-row-of-English-class kind of way. I'd do him. And I wouldn't make him wax first, neither.


DH and I love Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. My husband flirts with metrosexual territory (although that forgetting to tuck his shirt in thing keeps him firmly in the straight-with-little-fashion-sense camp), so we've always enjoyed Queer Eye's take on fashion, decorating, and food. Especially food. Ted Allen's one of those men who not only can dazzle you with his food and wine selection, but can also keep the conversation lively and interesting. Straight girl, table for two?

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Synopsis Hell II

Dream Agent calls and says things are going well, blah blah, going to be out of the country from X to Y, and by the way, would you send a synopsis for Crash Test so we'll have one in the office?


I thought since it was finished, I'd dodged the synopsis bullet, but nooooooo. And of course, since I've revised the final, I had to revise the synopsis to match. Dang!!

Turned out better than the first version, but still. A synopsis is bad enough to write the first time. Having to do it over and over is like hooking up with the same bad boyfriend. You think it's a good idea at the time (and you're probably drunk at that moment), you try reallyreally hard to make it work, then you end up sending him (it) away in disgust. Let's hope the people reading the thing like it better than I do right now...

Friday, September 02, 2005

The Bed List/The Dinner List

Soulful selections for a rainy Friday:


I know several cops, and none of them look this good. Then again, Gary Dourdan is an actor playing a crime scene technician on CSI, but who cares. He can play whatever--and wherever--he wants!


I have admired Stevie Wonder for years. He's a true inspiration to countless musicians (india.arie for one, one of my favorites), a genius, a creative dynamo. Few of his songs end up sounding dated--a couple of unfortunate exceptions are Eighties mistakes "Ebony and Ivory" and "I Just Called to Say I Love You"--but for the most part you can wear out your CDs playing "Fingertips Pt. 1," "Lately," "Isn't She Lovely," and "Livin' for the City" over and over and over and over. Treat yourself well and buy copies of Songs in the Key of Life and Innervisions.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Hurricanes: Been There, Can't Fathom That


That's the only feeling I can muster when I watch the news reports from Mississippi and New Orleans. Hollow.

Hurricane Charley tore through our neighborhood last year, destroyed a huge tree in our yard, left us without power for nine days in an oppressively hot, humid August. Frances and Jeanne added insult to injury in the form of huge branches through our roof, water damage, and more powerless days. It took months to recover--months of sleeping everywhere but in my own bed, months of ducking under the plastic covering the huge hole in my bedroom ceiling, months of low-grade depression that didn't lift until I had a roof, a new ceiling, and normal life.

I cannot fathom what the people in Louisiana and Mississippi are facing. A friend of mine is a firefighter, someone in charge of a hurricane recovery task force who's flown to Mississippi to help. And there's nothing he can do. There's nothing there. No water, no food, no way out. Search and recovery is all they can do at this point; the time for search and rescue has passed.

I'm a little peeved that the international community that took us to task so harshly for our "stingy," "slow" response to the Asian tsunami hasn't lined up to help the people in our Gulf states. Those people have lost everything, and there's nothing to help them get back on their feet, since their livelihood is wiped out, too.

The nation came to our aid, and now it's our time to come to Mississippi's and Louisiana's. Donate what you can:


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