blue girl

A Little of This, A Little of That

Today is Ratboy's, aka Grishaxxx, One Year Blogiversary!  I was up all night baking the Dr. Suess cake you see there to the right.  Lots of oompa loompas, devilish grins and high brow literature went into that recipe, for sure! 

I mean, you just try getting 1/4 Cup Shakespeare and 3 Tablespoons Virginia Woolf together in a bowl and you'll see it just wasn't all that easy.  But I, 2005 Bake-off Champion of the Internets, will not be thrown.

I even had to have the devilish grins flown in by lear jet from Venice, for heaven's sake.  Anything for my Grisha.

The icing is made specifically from the gorgeous sounds a string ensemble makes when playing Vivaldi's Allegro, balanced perfectly with 14 Cups of secret sweetener from Neil Young's Sugar Mountain.  I mean, I had to rock the cake just slightly.  Hence its irresistible beauty.

Everyone feel free to take some cake home and then head off to Grisha's Naked Pool Party!

Everyone who's anyone is supposed to be there.  I even heard Uma's showing up!

Remember!  No tops allowed in the hot tub!

Happy Blogiversary, Grisha!

Keep on rockin' in the free world.

xxoo

I'm Too Young For All This Stuff! I Swear I Am!

If I hadn't gotten carded for beer on Saturday...

Let me repeat that for those who may not have recognized the importance of that:

If I hadn't gotten carded.  for.  beer. on Saturday, I might be feeling a little more like the middle-aged mom that I am.

Getting carded didn't stop the meloncholy I've been feeling though since my son brought home papers Friday with information about school next year and all the decisions we have to make, all the classes he has to choose, and the orientation that we have to go to tonight.

You see, me, a mom who got carded on Saturday has to go to my son's high school orientation tonight.

Let me repeat that for those who may not have felt the weight of the meaning of the last sentence sufficiently:

I have to go to my son's high school orientation tonight. 

High. 

School.

I only have four and a half years left.  And I know a lot of you think that's a long time.
But I took this photo a little more than eleven years ago, and it seems like yesterday.

Woosh.

There's going to be a lot of "Can you believe we're already here?" tonight between all the parents.

Maybe we should all go out after and cry in our beers.

And you know what?  I'll be more than happy to buy.

Did I mention that I got carded on Saturday?

Changing Hearts and Minds

Surfing the Internets this morning, I clicked over to Huffington Post and read an entry by Deepak Chopra.  He writes that Eisenhower's 1961 warning about America becoming a full-blown profit-making military machine has now indeed come to pass. 

One of our most advanced technologies is now the technology of death.

He wants us to counter this with a Do It Yourself Peace Kit.  Ok, I'm right there with him.  I've always believed that we ourselves have to become the changes we want to see in the world.

I think he's preaching to the choir and I'm posting to the choir, but sing along with Chopra nonetheless:

Work on your own mindset. Every day, when you are tempted by the media, politicians, or your own conditioning to believe in war, stop and correct yourself. Among the leading false beliefs that must be transformed are the following:

1. Military strength brings security. The more military might we have, the more secure we will be.

2. When we kill people in other countries, it is for their own good. There's a higher purpose being served, such as democracy.

3. Weapons aren't about death. They are about technology and progress.

4. Killing people with high-tech weapons is better than using low-tech weapons. It's more progressive and civilized.

5. Whoever gets killed by the United States either deserved it or we made a regrettable mistake because of human error. Sorry

6. Progress cannot be stopped. Every new weapons system is necessary and inevitable. Anyone who opposes new weapons wants America to be weak.

7. It's normal to maintain a massive standing army in peacetime.

8. The reason that the U.S. goes to war is that we know what's right better than anyone else. "They" make us attack them because "they" are immoral or downright evil.

9. God made us superior. We must make sure the rest of the world stays alert to that fact.

10. Making war is one way we show how superior we really are.

Even if there is a grain of truth in a belief, that doesn't justify carrying it to an extreme. Of course we need security, but that doesn't mean that any and all militaristic measures are justified. To change militaristic thinking, first change your own thinking. As a next step, if you are able to, speak up when others espouse these beliefs.

I don't know anyone in my regular blogiverse that doesn't feel this way already.  I think about these things every day and twist myself up in a pretzel trying to figure out the best way to help change the thinking of those around me.

Most people I know in real life don't even think of these things.  When this topic does come up in conversation and I see an opening, I always take it.  But usually my comments are just met with blank stares.

My Republican brother-in-law emailed me the other day asking, sarcastically, if politics is the only thing I ever think about. 

I get that constantly and I completely don't understand it.  The country we grew up in is in radical shift mode.  We have war, torture, illegal wiretapping, a president who can't put two words together to make any kind of sense.  We have corruption on a grand scale.  People losing their jobs by the thousands every day.  Millions without healthcare.  What kind of country will this be when our children grow up? 

The American people are being left behind and you want me to sit here and talk to you about what a great deal you just got on a pair of jeans? For more than 2 minutes?

Sorry.  Called me obsessed, but I just can't and won't do it.  Hence my escape from real life into the blogosphere.

Anyone out there got an effective way to change hearts and minds?  When Chopra advises us to "speak up when others espouse these beliefs," should we be defiant?  Belligerent?  Well-reasoned and calm? 

Sometimes I go with belligerent, especially during the time Kerry was being swift-boated by a group "that had other priorities" during Vietnam.  Being belligerent doesn't work though.  It's a turn-off.

And when I go with defiant, I'm usually reminded that the Democrats have no power whatsoever, and are just as corrupt as Republicans, so what the hell am I even talking about.

Normally I go with well-reasoned (or as well-reasoned as I can be) and calm, but I am usually met with indifference. 

But I'll keep trying, as I've always tried -- since I was six years old and horrified that my family thought it was ok for the National Guard to actually kill students as Kent State -- and am reminded of something else Eisenhower once said:

I would rather try to persuade a man to go along, because once I have persuaded him, he will stick. If I scare him, he will stay just as long as he is scared, and then he is gone.

But I just cannot shake this feeling that I'm swimming in quicksand.

Picture Perfect

(I wanted to use a naughty cowboy headline, but decided against it.  Don't want to be thought of as a naughty girl.  You know...my pristine reputation and all.)

My friend and I went to see Brokeback Mountain last night.  Although it was a little long, I really liked it.  The acting was superb.  Heath Ledger was outstanding.  As Simianbrain says, it's a beautiful and complicated love story.  If you haven't seen it yet, you should.

The one thing I especially loved about the movie was the scenery.
Ahh, yes.  The scenery was gorgeous.

Been Gettin' My Kicks

I've been cracking myself up all day between deadlines reading Seinfeld scripts.  I miss those guys.  I've posted a couple of quotes from shows below and I was sort of trying to make a theme out of it today, but I just have to stop and post this one monologue.  It's one of my favorites ever.  If you're a Seinfeld fan, you'll know it.  And if you're not, you won't know what the heck it's about, but if you're lucky, you'll run across a re-run of "The Library" one day.  Ahhh, Bookman.  I just love ya.

Let me tell you something, funny boy ... You know that little stamp?  The one that says New York Public Library?  Well, that may not mean anything to  you, but that means a lot to me. One whole helluva lot. Sure, go ahead, laugh if you want to. I've seen your type before -- flashy, making the scene, flaunting convention. Yeah, I know what you're thinking... Why's this guy making such a big stink about old library books?  Let me give you a hint, junior. Maybe we can live without libraries, people like you and me....Maybe. Sure, we're too old to change the world.  What about that kid,
sitting down, opening a book right now in a branch of the local library and finding pictures of pee-pees and wee-wees in The Cat in the Hat and The Five Chinese Brothers.  Doesn't he deserve better? Look, if you think this is about overdue fines and missing books, you'd better think again. This is about that kid's right to read a book without getting his mind warped.  Or maybe that turns you on, Seinfeld... Maybe that's how you get your kicks... You and your goodtime buddies... I've got a flash for you, joy boy.  Partytime is over.

Yeah, joy boy!

Also, there are some great discussions going on here, here and here about Woody Allen and his new and old films.

I'd join in the conversations, but you know, I just love Woody Allen -- luff him, looof him, luuuv him so much that I fear that I would just blab and blab and blab away.  Blah, blah, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah.  Basically be a comment hog.  And that is pretty much against everything I stand for.

The word is Match Point is just as good or may be better than Crimes and Misdemeanors, which is my second favorite Woody Allen movie.  Annie Hall of course, being number one.

This is the monologue I love from Crime and Misdemeanors. It's quite a bit heavier than Bookman's.  Ahem, just a tad:

We're all faced throughout our lives with agonizing decisions, moral choices. Some are on a grand scale, most of these choices are on lesser points.  But we define ourselves by the choices we have made. We are, in fact, the sum total of our choices.  Events unfold so unpredictably, so unfairly, Human happiness does not seem to be included in the design of creation.  It is only we, with our capacity to love that give meaning to the indifferent universe.  And yet, most human beings seem to have the ability to keep trying and even try to find joy from simple things, like their family, their work, and from the hope that future generations might understand more.

And Alan Alda was great as Lester:

You see, if it bends, it works. If it breaks, it doesn't work.

If it bends, it's funny, if it breaks it's not funny!

Comedy is tragedy plus time!

And Woody's reactions to him throughout the movie are priceless:

I can't watch his stuff.  It's sub-mental.

And if you noticed my new photo over there on the upper right, I woke up this morning with True Romance on my mind.  Probably my third favorite movie -- hmmmm, maybe -- would have to think about that one -- but it's definitely close.  Planned to write something about it, but got sidetracked.

A day of deadlines, Woody Allen and Seinfeld.  Not bad.  Ok then.  Partytime is over.

Oh well.  La-dee-da, la-dee-da.

Yeah, What She Said

"I can't spend the rest of my life coming into this stinking apartment every ten minutes to pore over the excruciating minutia of every single daily event."

        - Elaine
          in The Bizarro Jerry

Yes Indeed It Is

"I have no power.  Why should she have the upper hand?  Once in my life I would like the upper hand.  I have no hand.  No hand at all.  She has the hand.  I have no hand."

"We all want hand.  Hand is tough to get."

                - Jerry and George
                in The Pez Dispenser

Air Kisses To All You Krazy Kooks

I was up in the middle of the night, couldn't sleep.  Was flipping through HBO and decided to watch a little of Dennis Miller's new Vegas stand up show.  The jokes were easy, especially for him but it was still kind of funny, until he started in on politics and quickly went from ripping Harry Reid to ripping Howard Dean to ripping Robert Byrd:

"You know if he was eating dinner with his entire family and went off on one of those incoherent rants of his, then left the room -- the family would be horrified and think that they should get him a new job as a greeter at K-K-K-Mart."

Such laughter and applause!  A-ha-ha-ha.  Shut up.  K-K-K?

I did not do what I normally do which is yell at the TV.  I didn't think my husband would appreciate it.  Not the yelling.  But that I was actually watching Dennis Miller.  That would've really burned his behind.

Then he landed on his prime target.  And you know, if I hadn't already heard every Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky joke nine million times already, I might actually chuckle at a sexual cigar joke.

I thought stick it where the sun don't shine Miller and turned the TV off.

Still not sleepy, I went upstairs and turned my laptop on.  Went and visited my spoonerism pal, Jeddie Ningo.  A new post!  Yay!  Seems he's not only been nominated for a Koufax Award for Best New Blog of 2005, he's also been nominated for Blog Most Deserving of Wider Recognition.  Jeddie is such a great writer and so unique (I don't believe I've ever read a sexual cigar joke on his blog) that it would be fine with me if he won both.

He's so much more than just throwing the band Grand Funk Railroad, but get a load of this:

Grand Funk Railroad sucked longer, louder and with more consistency than any band in the history of Rock and Roll. By a moonshot. By a light-year. By a parasec. Take three REO Speedwagons, four Golden Earrings, eight Nazareths, two Starships, and three Status Quos, mix 'em up in a big-assed blender, toss in some Olson Twins videos for crunch, and you will still have only a small jigger-load of what you'd need to make up a bowlful of brand-clean Grand Funk Suck. When the the Great Scorer comes to mark against their name, he writes not that they won or lost, but how much they just plain Sucked.

There's always one or two or forty-six things in each of his posts that make me smile.  And sort of intimidates me as a writer.  I mean, I never would've thought of the phrase bowlful of brand-clean Grand Funk Suck.  Damn you Jeddie Ningo, you dumb-ass yuppie!

Still not sleepy, I clicked through his link to check out the other nominees of Blogs Deserving of Wider Recognition.  Scrolling down the list, I came upon a relatively new blogger and was shocked, shocked to see her on the list.  If it wasn't 2:30 am, I would've yelled at the computer screen!

It was me!

What??!!

Really.  What??!!

Who do I absolutely love out there that would put me on a list that includes Jeddie, Mannion, The Countess, The Viscount, I Blame the Patriarchy, Ethal The Early-Warning Frog and Everything Inbetween?

Thanks to all of you out there who nominated Blue Girl in a Red State for that award.  Although I've gathered that most bloggers I've gotten to know are a little off-beat, I never knew they were actually nutso, insane, out and out crazy as all get out.

And let me tell you, a shot of adrenaline like that does nothing for a bad case of insomnia. 

Completely awake and with an extra spring in my step, I went downstairs and watched a little more of Dennis Miller.  Now he's ripping on Global Warming:

"I mean, I just don't trust the science.  They say the temperature has increased over the last 100 years by one or two degrees.  Excuse me if I don't trust the baseline temperature they came up with in 1905.  I mean, they didn't even have indoor plumbing then...."

What a comedic genius.  Big yawn.

And then, all warm and cozy I fell back to sleep with a huge smile on my face.

Red Hot Mama

Kevin Wolf's had a couple of great posts recently about music.  What are the albums you know by heart?  What are your favorite singles of all time?

Which gave me a thought as I was driving home the other night as this one song came on the radio.  Every time it comes on, I crank it up.  As.  Loud.  As.  It.  Can.  Go.  And I always chuckle to myself because it's a song that would seem to most to be so anti-blue girl. 

In the spirit of Kevin's recent posts, but putting my own little spin on it, here my question to all of you:

What song do you love for it's rocketisity, but it's so unlike who you really are?  A hard rocking song that most people would be shocked that you even listened to it at all?  A song that you listen to at full throttle -- and you're amazed -- even after you've heard it for the 100th time that you still love it, while kind of being secretly embarrased by liking it?

My song?

Nazareth. Hair of the Dog.

I mean, just check out these lyrics:

Heart Breaker
Soul Shaker
I've Been Told About You
Steamroller
Midnight Shoulder
What they been sayin' must be true

Red hot mama
Down light charmer
Time's come to pay your dues

Now you're messin' with
A Son of a Bitch

Now you're messin' with
A Son of a Bitch
   
I just love it. 

And while you're envisioning me loving that song, also imagine that we're listing to it together while I'm kicking your ass playing pool.  Because that's another thing you probably wouldn't envision me doing.

But, I probably could.  Oh, yes.  I probably could.

A Blogger Of The Tenth Level Who Is Not To Be Ignored

Regular readers of my posts and comments might think that Papa Bill and I have been secretly hooking up at his anti-war and free-love blogs.  Protesting the war, lettin' it all hang out while everyone's lovin' the one their with.

I know some of you may be disappointed, but it is not so.  Let me clarify what I think he meant by his comment so that my pristine reputation remains in tact.

I was recently introduced to Papa Bill through a comment by Coturnix over at Mannion's Five and Dime.  I was up fairly early one morning and spent a lot of time over at Papa Bill's place because I really liked his writing.

I can assure you that all of our online activities are perfectly innocent. And when he asks how to reclaim my interest by referencing his sex blogs, I believe he's referring to his tendency to write posts describing the many reasons why he loves women.  He, an accomplished wordsmith, is simply not yet up to speed on his blogcabulary.

One particular post, The Art of Ogling, caught my attention, which is very appropriate, as he describes himself as a "Tenth Level Ogler" who's extremely successful at getting the attention of, well, women.  So successful in fact that he's been banished from several establishments, as women tend to strip and then faint at his mere glance.

Although I bet there are other Artful Oglers out there who read these pixels, I'll assume that you are no where near the Tenth Level, so I'll let you in on Papa Bill's method of effective ogling:

Obviously, the more women, the more ogling targets, and the better chance to perfect your technique I strongly recommend the following sequence: (1) gain eye contact, (2) smile (NOT with intent- amicably, but not quite innocently), (3) hold eye contact a brief, significant moment, (4) glance reluctantly away. This last is important, because to glance away too quickly could be construed as uncomplimentary by the oglee.

You can tell that your ogling is a success if the oglee has these reactions, (1) giggles, (2) a blatant stare back, (3) slipping you her phone number, (4) an "accidental" brush as she passes, (5) a pleased smile. If you receive any or all of these responses, contact me and I'll send you instructions explaining how to proceed to the next level.

You have sucessfully passed the reading portion of this lesson. Be very careful, however, in applying your new knowledge in practice. I, myself, as a tenth level ogler, usually wear an eye patch to cut my glance intensity in half.

To which I commented that although he might believe that an eye-patch cuts down his glance intensity, it also would cut down on happy oglees.  Or at least just one -- that one being me.  Because I wouldn't be staring at his mesmerizing glance, I would be staring at his eye patch and would probably glance away too quickly so that he wouldn't think I was staring at his eye patch.

When Papa Bill wants to know how to reclaim my interest by referring to his anti-war blog, I believe he means the post he wrote recently titled, "What's Really Bothering Me..." where he writes that he thinks the American people are fed up with the war in Iraq and they aren't going to take it anymore.  He describes parallels between Vietnam and Iraq and believes that protests may soon turn violent because they are being so arrogantly ignored by the media and this God forsaken administration.

I did not comment after I read his post, but I did think about it.  I pretty much think about it every day.  The war and the unbelievable arrogance of this administration.  And the fact that they completely ignore any dissenting voices!  I was shocked when I heard that Bush had pulled all the previous defense secretaries and secretary's of state together.  Then I read it was just for PR.  I was not shocked.

I think Papa Bill is simply wondering why I've stopped visiting his site.  I think he thinks that because I haven't left a comment that I haven't been reading, which is not the case at all.

You see Papa Bill, I am not only The Master of the Cut and Paste, I am also a *Master Lurker.*  A lurker being one who visits blogs often, but rarely comments.  My lurking abilities may be far beyond those of mere mortals.  I lurk here.  I lurk there.  I, my friend, lurk everywhere.

I visit all the blogs on my blog roll daily, but I don't always leave comments.  The more serious the issue being written about, the less likely I'll throw in my opinion.  Writing a thoughtful comment takes as much time sometimes as writing a post.

I'm also a huge Sidetracker sometimes when I comment.  Actually won an award for it recently.

And sometimes I simply suffer from commentophobia.  Winning that award actually increased my commentophobia stress.

So you see!  You don't have to reclaim my interest at all.  Since we first met, my interest level has remained at at The Tenth Level.  Rest assured that if you are not actually hearing from me, I am there lurking about.

I also tend to fall for guys who use the word "Later" the way you do.

Read another one of Papa Bill's sex blogs here.  And then make sure you tell him what you thought of it.  And tell him I sent ya.

Later.