blue girl

Memealiscious

UPDATE:  I've moved the finished memes up to the top so it's easy for everyone clicking over to click over to their blogs, read their memes and leave a comment.

I'm also letting you know who has not answered The Call of the BG Meme and why I think they haven't done it yet.

Here we go:

Goose.  Jeremy's done!
Goose.  1 Peanut is done!
Goose.  Larry Jones has not completed his meme yet.  Too chicken?  Or too cool?  Hmmm.  Too chicken.
Goose.  Dennis the Peasant has not completed his meme yet.  Too chicken.
Goose.  Bobness has not completed his meme yet.  Too chicken.
Goose.  Connie's done!  She's totally cool.
Goose.  Res hasn't done his yet either.  Bwaak, bwaak! Bwaak, bwaak, bwaak!
Goose.  Pinko, Pinko, Pinko.  He's probably eating a chicken instead of doing his meme.

Get to it, Bwaakers!

***

I've been tagged by meme people a lot lately.  I have a very long history of being memed in the blogosphere.  Actually, one of my first posts ever was answering memeish type questions.  Boy, did I ever take that one seriously.  I think I stayed up till 3am writing that thing.  Oh, the days of early blog stress.  Like everyone and their brother was going to notice and judge my bad comma placements.

You do though, don't you? 

Elitists.

I place my commas incorrectly and misspell words now on purpose.  Because it makes me laugh.  And it drives Billy Pilgrim crazy.  Well, it also drives Billy Pilgrim crazy when people think they're funny and crack themselves up.

I remember when he left a comment like that once!  And I've never forgotten it!  I hold grudges!  Especially against people I've never met!

I pretended recently that I hold grudges against people who meme me.  But, I was just kidding.  And I didn't crack myself up doing it, either.  Wasn't that funny.  It was just a trick I used to answer the questions because I tend to suffer from BPQA (Blogger Pop Quiz Anxiety).  Don't ask me anything very specific and I'll rattle on for hours upon hours about this, that and the other.  Ask me a specific question?  I go blank.

I've been blank since Catherine over at Poverty Barn tagged me with the newest meme.  I've been walking around in a haze of despair, desperately trying to think of eight facts about myself.

I was making breakfast yesterday and thought, I like toast.

You already know how much I love Whippets.  And how how I buy shag buns.  You all know how much I love music and New York City.  You already know I live in Cleveland and that I'm married with one son.  You know I just got a new car and that I like to drive fast with the radio cranked up!   If you've been paying attention, you already know how much I love Seinfeld and that my favorite movie is Annie Hall.  You even know I have a BFF, whose son was surfing recently in El Salvador!

You also already know that I live in a mansion with servants.  But, that's so boring.  Doesn't everyone?

I think I might have been taking this new meme as seriously as I took the first one, because I have been thinking non-stop about it.  When Adorable Girlfriend tagged me with the very same meme this morning, I knew I had to do something.  So, without further ado, here are eight NEW facts about me.

1)  I do indeed blog in my pajamas.  I'm actually in my pajamas right now.  They're cute.  Teal and white.  Got them at the Gap on 5th Avenue in New York City a couple of weeks ago.  I don't even care that it fits into some blogger stereotype.  It's not like I think my blog should be taken all that seriously when I put up some post about Res losing the Holiday Bake-off.  To me.

2)  Um.  Shoot.  What's another one....Oh!  I used to love keeping score when I went bowling.  The old fashioned way.  With that score sheet that you'd tuck up under that clip on the table.  And you'd pencil in all those solid squares and half, diagonal-type squares.  And you had to do that compound math thing frame by frame.  I was so disappointed when the last time I went bowling the scoring was electronic.  I've never been back.

3)  I've never been a bridesmaid in a wedding.  That's not to say I never had any friends who got married.  Or that I never had friends.  I did.  But, they never asked me to be in their weddings, they asked me to sing in their weddings.  I was always kind of jealous that I never got to buy one of those ugly, expensive bridesmaid's dresses and then complain endlessly about it.

4)  I've only ever been fired from one job.  When I was 18 I worked a part time job in the deli of a grocery store with a guy I had gone to high school with.  He was cool.  We both loved David Bowie and would crank this up on our little radio.  We used to get in trouble for it.  The final straw was when I wouldn't take no for an answer when I asked for the night off one Saturday when my friend was getting married.  Of course, I was singing in the wedding and had to be there!  My boss and I started arguing, then it turned into a real fight.  Judo chop!  Hi-Ya!  Take that, Miss I think I'm the President of the Deli Department!  Potato salad and slices of bologna were flying! 

Just kidding.  She said, "I'm not sure this is the right job for you."

And I'm like, "Yeah, well, I suppose me and Brunsweiger (Ew!) are just not meant to be."

5)  Hmmmm.  Let's see.  I was sent out in the hall once in 3rd grade for talking too much.  I was probably rattling on and on about this, that and the other without being asked to.

6)  Oh, here's a good one.  I not only sleep walk, but I also sleep eat.  I'll wake up at 4am, sitting up on the couch eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes.  A few weeks ago, I fell asleep on the couch and The Skimmer said I got up, went over to the hutch and was shuffling through drawers of old pictures and VHS tapes.  Don't remember that at all.

7)  I'm a lively dancer.

8)  Seth Mnookin sent me an email once.  I emailed him and said, "Good for you!  Happy New Year!  BG"  And he emailed back and said, "Thanks, BG!  Happy New Year to you, too!  Stay as cool as you are.  RMA.  SM"

Ok, now I gotta tag eight other bloggers.

Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck...

Goose.  Jeremy's done!
Goose.  1 Peanut is done!
Goose.
Goose.
Goose.
Goose.
Goose.
Goose.

I loved Duck, Duck, Goose when I was little.  Ooops!  That's nine interesting facts about me!  I'm such a rebel!  Ooops, 10!

Ok, ok.  I'll stop rattling on and on about this, that and the other.    

Yeah, But What About All the Nudity and Violence? Huh?

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

hell (1x)

Laugh.  Out.  Loud.

Stupid blog quiz things.  What the heck are they good for, anyway?

h/t to Carin, who by the way is a conservative and her blog is Rated R!  And my liberal heathen blog is Rated G!  Take that Rightwingers!

What's your blog rated?

Heads up, Blue Girl Readers

Click here now to read about TV's very best theme songs ever over at newcritics.  Read the post!  Leave a comment!  Laugh.  Feel old.  Cry.

Did you know that my use of the word "Pshaw" came from this TV show?

It did.  Well, actually, it came from my gorgeous friend with the black hair who used to watch Laverne & Shirley and she would say "Pshaw" very dramatically (Just like Laverne.  Or was it Shirley?  I forget.) when we worked together.  Like this...

"D!  I need the file!  It's got to get printed!"

"Paaaaa-shaw, BG!....don't rush me!"

I just stole it from her and adopted it as my own.  I'm glad she didn't run around saying Schlemeel, Shlamazel, Hassenfeffer Incorporated!  That would've gotten old, quick.

And, don't forget to click here! to read about how dangerous I truly am.  And how I killed a dude this one time. Cuz you know it's true.

(I am so jealous.  So jealous!)

Listen Up, Boys

Men's Fashion Update Below.

Jeddie Ningo had a post up awhile back about how he likes to see women dress during warm weather.  Jennifer responded to his post, writing how a guy can't miss wearing a big white shirt.  (White shirts are great, button-down, kind of big, not form fitting.  And jeans, boys.  Wear those white shirts with jeans.)

Larry Jones just wants everyone to take off everything.

I just want to add my two cents here.

Guys, here's a look you should avoid.

At all costs.

I was following this guy around the grocery store earlier today.  Cruising behind him in the condiments aisle, the first thing I noticed were his black bermuda shorts, pleated around the waist, that came right to his knees, and his ivory white legs.  My first thought was, maybe a tan would help.  But, when I glanced further down, he had on black dress shoes, without socks.  Tan or no tan, that is not going to work.  Then, I had to totally judge him because I was too far gone.  He also had on a short sleeved, sort of dressy, silky black and white shirt that was kind of blousing out around his waist.  His hair was cut just a little too perfectly and I think I got a whiff of Aqua Velva.

English Leather I could deal with.  But, Aqua Velva?

Oh.  And the bracelet.  The heavy, gold chain bracelet.  I'm sure that was the last thing he put on, looked in the mirror, ran his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair and said, "Yesssssss."

But, noooooooo.

No.  No.  No.

Remember, guys.  Jeans (faded are great, but never iron them and crease them down the front!) and a white shirt.  Can't go wrong with a "just-so" worn out Polo shirt, either.  A good t-shirt'll do even.  Shorts can be tricky.  Just please ask someone before you head out the door.

I'm not being mean here, I'm just here to help.

****

UPDATE:  Well, it seems that I have no idea what I'm talking about.  Me and my simplistic opinion that a guy can't miss with a white shirt and jeans.

New men's collections were debuted over the weekend in Milan, Italy where it was Men's Fashion Week.

Here are a few ideas for you guys just in case you're a little perplexed about what's in.  Beachwear is out, formal (and sequin) is in.

...the summer 2008 look is short of beachwear and long on formal attire, with a dash of the militaristic.

Strikingly missing from the presentation were shorts and swimwear. The move, Versace's people said, was aimed at getting away from seasons.

Getting people away from seasons?  Why not!  Who wouldn't want to wear gorgeous wool poolside when it's 108 degrees?  Open your minds, people.

The spring-summer collection features army pants with a plethora of pockets, shirts and trousers with updated squared camouflage patterns, all set off by scarves wrapped around the neck to protect against those sudden sandstorms.

The Skimmer left the house yesterday to go to Home Depot to buy some mulch.  I noticed he hadn't put his scarf on.  And I was like, "What if there's a sandstorm??!!"

For a little R&R, Dolce & Gabbana presented Bermuda shorts in bright red florals put together with black floral tops as well as tight swimming trunks.

Tight swimming trunks?  I don't care what Dolce & Gabbana says.  No tight swimming trunks, guys.

Dolce & Gabbana announced a limited edition men's sneaker for the 2008 spring-summer season in ultra soft shiny leather.

No word on whether or not you should wear socks with those ultra soft shiny leather sneakers.

 

The collection was a mix of glam and pop, loud by any measure with brightly colored tops in yellow, turquoise and greens, and topped off with a series of military-inspired jackets, tops and a sweater — all in gold.

The collection was full of the classic Burberry trench coats in a variety of fabrics including neoprene, leather and even plastic. For evening, there was a tuxedo shirt in transparent plastic and sequined tops.

Whimsical cartoonish fish and octopus characters adorned shirts and T-shirts, while brightly colored shells and starfish, were turned into cheerful charms for necklaces and bracelets.

Now that I've thought about it a little more, I guess you really can't go wrong with a transparent plastic tuxedo shirt with a gold sweater wrapped loosely over your shoulders, just in case there's an evening chill! With a cheerful, brightly colored starish charm hanging from a platinum choker chain.  And jeans. 

Don't forget the faded jeans.  Just make sure they have a plethora of pockets.

And the Living Is Easy

My other favorite 15 year old.  My BFF's son, in El Salvador, carving a wave.

You'll have to excuse me if I misused carving.  I just took a wild guess what Surfer Kid was doing, because you know There's Just No Surf in Cleveland U.S.A.

I Was Feeling Part of the Scenery

M.A. Peel reminds us that today at 2:06pm, summer will officially arrive.

Summer is a state of mind. It’s the living definition of sultry. It’s carrying A Sun Also Rises around in your head and keeping Pimm's Cup at the ready for guests at all times. It’s daring sundresses and city searsucker suits.

Blue Kid's last day of school was June 7.  So June 8 is the day I considered summer to have officially started.  Summer around Blue Family's house these days consists of 6 - 12 teenagers, at any given time, sitting on our deck out back talking and laughing, or out in our driveway playing basketball.  Or lounging all over my furniture, eating all my food while I'm yelling at them to go out on the deck or to go outside and play basketball.

It's the first summer that Blue Kid's friends are driving themselves over in their beat up cars. His one friend's car is an old Nissan Pathfinder.  It's mostly black and gray, but it also has one red door.  Blue Kid loves it.  I both love it and hate it, knowing that Blue Kid will be eligible for his temporary license in just a few months.  He hasn't started lobbying for his own car yet, but when he does and if I happen to give in, would it be too politically incorrect of me to get him the biggest Hummer on the market?  All of a sudden they're looking extremely practical for some reason.

Ohio just passed a law stating that there can't be more than one non-relative, juvenile (delinquent) passenger in the car if the driver is 17 years old or younger.  I love this new law.  I think it's the best law that's ever been written.

Wasn't like that when I was Blue Kid's age.  The summer of 1979, when I was 15, I was dating a guy who drove this exact car.  He and a bunch of friends would pick me up and we'd head down to the park to listen to music and throw frisbees.  Well, I just watched as others threw frisbees.  I can't throw.  Anything.  Frisbees...baseballs.  I tried for a long time, but everything I've ever tried to throw boomerangs and ends up hitting me in the nose.  Even now, if I try to toss Blue Kid the remote control, it ends up flying back over my left shoulder.

I can still picture myself sitting in the grass watching Randy and and rest of the gang running barefoot in the sun, throwing and catching those frisbees.  And in my mind, on those hot summer days, this song is usually playing.  But, I know my mind's playing tricks on me, because that group loved Bad Company way more than Chicago.  Actually, if anything would've been pshawed back in 1979, it would've been them pshawing me for even thinking of playing Chicago.

Earlier in the week, Blue Kid asked me if I would drive him down to the park to meet his friends.  I got into the car and opened the sunroof and put on Cleveland's classic rock station.  Normally, Blue Kid gets in the car and immediately pops in some CD of music I can barely tolerate, but on this quick trip, he left the classic rock station on.  We pulled into the park just as this song began to play.

Blue Kid turned it up.  I didn't argue.  We drove along the winding road silently and I pulled up to the area where he wanted to be dropped off.  He jumped out of the car and walked over to his friends who were waiting by the swings.  I wondered if one of them had a frisbee and wished I had one I could throw to him out the window.  But figured I already have my summer memories, he needs to make his own.

I Like Smoke and Lightnin'

For Jeddie.

Be careful, or die tryin'. 

Kidding. 

Be careful, Jeddie.

DO NOT EAT*

There are so many times ... so, so many, many times ... I want to link to this blog.  Just for those out there who may be reading here, but who don't venture and click hither and yon.

You all deserve to experience it.

This is the ultimate example of why I love the Internets and more specifically, blogs.

Where would these people have gathered before?

No where.

They would've been standing on some street corner somewhere, alone, yelling things that passersby never would've understood, much less paid much attention to. 

Most of the time I don't understand their whole "thing."

Although most of them are very sweet and try to make me feel welcomed, I'm normally just standing off to the side eating my ice cream cone, incorrectly, all innocent, in ur, er, their comment thread.

Lurking.

I love them, though.  Read the post and then the comments and see how they get each other.  It's so great.  (You won't get it.  Don't worry.)

I hope to get to their level one day.

Or not.

***

*Headline from billy pilgrim in the comment thread of the post I linked to above. 

I get that! 

I would never eat anything over there.  And you shouldn't either.  God only knows what they're frying up.  Don't do it.  I'm warning you!

Don't!

I Don't Do Anything Downright Strange. I Promise You.

You Are Strawberry Ice Cream

A bit shy and sensitive, you are sweet to the core. You often find yourself on the outside looking in. Insightful and pensive, you really understand how the world works. You are most compatible with chocolate chip ice cream.

What Flavor Ice Cream Are You?

I'm lookin' for some chocolate chip.

You Are 45% Normal

While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

A little of my freak goin' on?  What?

You Are A Lily

You are a nurturer and all around natural therapist. People see you as their rock. And they are able to depend on you. You are a soothing influence. You can make people feel better with a few words. Your caring has more of an impact than even you realize.

What Flower Are You?

I am no one's therapist, but I can be rock-like at times.

You Are 24% Spoiled

You're barely spoiled. You may have some nice things, but you never let them go to your head. You appreciate each gift you're given - and you don't dwell on what you "deserve" to have.

Are You Spoiled?

I am truly an angel.

I had a very original post written.  But, someone else in the appeasesasphere had pretty much written what I had already written, so I dumped out of it.  Darnit!  So, you get quizzes.

I may be a strawberry, non-therapeutic, rock-like unspoiled thing with a little freak going on, but I am not a copy cat.  So I can't post it.

Not that I copied, but some of you might never believe me.

Learning To See

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes
And learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment
To be free

My very favorite Beatles' song.  And what a ridiculous thing to say.  Like there aren't a dozen others I could say the same thing about.

I don't have the words to write about music.  It's too big to me.  Too much feeling.  I wrote to a friend recently that for me, writing about music is like writing about love.  It's too much.

How would I explain why Blackbird is one of my favorites?  In sweeping generalizations.

I love now, and always have, just the way it sounds.  I love the chords.  The tempo.  The lyrics.  And the meaning that I imagine are behind them.  What it means to me.  I love the way it makes me feel.  Makes me feel like a child searching for something.  Sends me back.  Still makes me think.  And feel.  Makes me feel connected to something that I can't describe.  Something within me or possibly some connection to other people I imagine feel exactly the same way when they hear it.  People I know and people I don't.  It makes me feel like there's truth in it somehow.

I might as well be writing about moonlight.  Or mountain storms.  Or standing barefoot at the edge of the ocean.

Neddie Jingo has a great review of Paul McCartney's new album, Memory Almost Full, up at newcritics, which put me in the mood for some old stuff.

I just downloaded McCartney's new album, but haven't listened to it yet.

Jeddie posted lyrics from a song on the album called The End of the End:

On the day that I die
I’’d like jokes to be told
And stories of old
To be rolled out like carpets
That children have played on
And laid on while listening
To stories of old

Seems to be some truth in that.  I'm going to go listen.

You can go read Jeddie's review here.