Killing Time Until It's Bedtime

There is nothing good on TV at 4:30 p.m. weekdays. Oprah is unwatchable. Ellen is over by then. The evening news is not on until 7 p.m. around here. This is not helpful when I'm searching for mindless entertainment to help me decompress before my 6:30 p.m. bedtime. (This 4:30 a.m. work schedule is ridiculous, but tomorrow's my last day for a full week!)

I've taken to watching movies, instead. But during the last two weeks I've exhausted the collection of freebies at the neighborhood library and seen most of the interesting stuff in RedBox. Today I went to see a matinee of Mamma Mia! with a friend. I saw the Broadway show live in San Francisco years ago. I wore sparkly bellbottoms and platform boots and danced in the aisles during the finale. Diggin' THIS Dancing Queen, yes indeed.



Don't see this movie unless you like to squirm uncomfortably. Even if you really like ABBA, you will squirm. Pierce Brosnan was a devastating Remington Steele. A suave Bond. He's a DREADFUL singer and taking a male lead in a musical film remake was very ill-advised. I gave up trying to stifle my groans and just laughed loudly every time he opened his mouth. The old ladies who populate these chick-flick matinees on weekdays didn't appreciate that, I'm sure. They were probably admiring Meryl Streep's awkward dancing and overwrought vocals.

I'm probably cranky because I've been awake too long, but I think I'm ready for Hollywood to stop thinking it can do musicals better than Broadway.

Leave the singing and dancing to the pros, people.

Belated Birthday Wishes

For my one and only sister-in-law. My brother lured used his guitar to lure her from the soccer field before she was old enough to know better. It thrilled us to have her in the family, but we had to wonder if she knew what she was getting into. We're a high-octane bunch and can be a tad overwhelming.

She's survived to the point of thriving.

She gets my zany, mad-talented brother like I never have. She's always up for a fun time (once nearly going into early labor watching Japanese game shows online with me late at night!) She's the most amazing mother to my favorite nieces. She makes a killer grilled sandwich. She can run harder and faster than any girl I've ever known.

And even though she's probably one of the most talented soccer players in the country, she's incredibly, unbelievably - even implausibly - humble.

Happy Birthday Aleisha!

ZZZzzzzzzz

After yet another sleepless night on this ridiculous schedule, I'm caving.














Let's just hope I can wake up when the alarm rings at 3:30 a.m.!

Foggy, with a chance of suffocation

Just back from an early morning walk and I feel compelled to write another post about the weather. I know nobody wants to hear weather updates ad nauseum, but if you ask me how my transition to the South is going, the one thing I'll tell you I'm still troubled by is the climate.

I still can't look out the window and anticipate the right wardrobe for the day. At 6:45 a.m. this morning it was overcast and misty. The weatherman said it was only 73 degrees. My experience with overcast and misty is San Francisco, where I would need a windbreaker for the jog. Ha. "Steamy" would be a better description.

The air on days like this is so damp I have a little trouble breathing. No wonder the plants manage to be so green here, even when it doesn't rain. It also makes me wonder if it's possible to get pneumonia from this weather - I sure took in a lot of moisture during my one-hour walk. The steam seems to release smells, too. The caustic scent of a pile of pine needles they use like bark to keep out weeds in the South made my eyes water. I walked under a magnolia tree so pungent I sped up to get past it.

The windows on cars and homes fog up on the outside. I'll spare you details about what it feels to be walking around in this kind of weather.

You run the air conditioner to dry things out inside and keep the doors and windows tightly shut. I miss being able to put a fan in the window at night and letting the dry, desert air cool things down.

Darkest Brown

That's what the box said: "Darkest Brown." I plan to write the Clairol company and suggest they rename it "More Or Less Black." I was going for something a little browner than my natural color - something to cover up the proliferation of gray. I have only myself to blame, though, because my gut told me "Darkest Brown" was bound to be too much. I ignored my gut because I have a tendency to be impetuous - and a tad dramatic - when it comes to my hair. So now I have black hair, more or less. Which is not what I was planning on.


It's been a week since I did this to myself and I feel okay posting this picture (taken two days after the deed). I've grown accustomed to it, for the most part, though I'm still not thrilled. I've had black hair before and I always feel the need to wear darker makeup and clothes to match. Whether by imagination, wishful thinking or daily washing, the color does seem to be fading a bit. Hooray.

I didn't even read the box closely enough to find out if the color is permanent or semi-permanent. All I know is it was on sale. Will I never learn?

Arachnophobia

The itsy bitsy spider lives in my shower. Along with all of his children and their cousins and neighbors.

This is not as troubling as it sounds, though, since they seem to be the daddy long legs variety. A spider so lanky and frail is tough to fear.

But I can't figure out how they are getting into my shower. Every time I get in there's at least one clinging in the corner. Down comes the rain to wash to wash the spider out. Up comes the sun to dry out all the rain and there he is again. Except it has to be his sister or cousin or best friend, since I watched the original little guy swirl down the drain with my soap bubbles.
I always heard that nursery rhymes are based on fact. Ring Around the Rosy is about the bubonic plague or something, right? Whoever wrote the Itsy Bitsy Spider lived in the South. Possibly even in my shower.

Leo the Lion

This little guy only turned one yesterday, but he's already taught me some deep stuff. Like, for example, when you're try to get under someone's skin, it pays to be persistent - and clingy. When you want to show someone you're in control, keep your distance and act like she's as interesting and crusty pudding on the side of your high chair. When you want to melt someone's heart, be distant and coy most of the time, and then snuggle your head into the curve of her neck when she's least expecting it.

See? Good stuff.

Happy Birthday Leo. I'm your favorite, right?