Here he goes again…Winter X games is on! And we are having are having a virtual Pep Rally to cheer on our favorite piece of acrobatic ginger hotness. So get on your team colors and fluff up your pom-poms as I spin some Flying Fox fight songs! We are starting off with Whitesnake.
I’d like to take a moment to say that when I hear this song now, in my mind I see Shaun in place of Tawny Kitaen. In a different outfit, obviously.
I like it inside my mind.
Come on…now that I’ve said it, you know you can picture it too. It’s remarkable how easy it is, isn’t it? Just go with it, it’s ok.
Meet Barrett Benedict Greer. You may call him Barrett, or BeBe, or Syd, or Madcap, but whatever you do, don’t call him “Barry.”
Barrett came to live with us last Wednesday night. I can’t say it’s been easy since then, but we’re managing. As I think I mentioned, he has a respiratory infection. I think they downplayed it at the shelter, so when I got him home and starting doing research, I freaked. But it has been clearing up really well and I’m no longer freaked.
So in the meantime, Barrett has been dwelling in my office behind closed doors. On Sunday we took the step of permitting him to see Ed and Gandalf through a gate, which presented its own set of challenges — i.e. he can jump and/or squeeze through a gate, and climb a screen door. And of course, the more he sees of the rest of the house, the more disgruntled he is with his confinement. At bed time he kicks up quite a ruckus until he gives up and passes out, and the office door has the scratches to prove it. We haven’t wanted to let him out for any length of time until more days had passed and he’d gotten a clean bill of health.
Yesterday was his first visit to our vet. Good news! His lungs are clear, and congestion seems to be confined to his nose, and his eyes are free of conjunctivitis. And no worms. That means B will be getting out of the office very soon.
So far he still seems to be the sweet cat we met at the shelter (escape-antics aside); he loves affection and his favorite thing is to come and sit, not on your lap, but on your chest. He’s very interested in Ed, and has only made “let’s play” sounds at him, nothing aggressive. Ed is afraid, yet curious. Gandalf, as per usual, wants None Of It. (He is my familiar, after all. That’s both a blessing and a curse at times.) Wish us luck.
You remember how some Facebook posts from Animal Friends compelled me to explore the idea of getting a third cat?
Well, the little cat who sparked the whole thing was adopted by someone else while BW and I waffled, but I think that’s great. But it hasn’t made me shake the idea. It may be misguided, but my thinking on this goes something like: Ed is playful and easily bored. Right now I am his sole playmate as Gandalf wants none of it. I don’t have a problem with that, but I do want/hope to get a job one day soon, and then what?
It’s possible that Ed might enjoy a friend of his own age to pal around with. (It’s also entirely possible that he will hate said “friend” on sight and spend every waking moment trying to kill him.) Gandalf I think won’t give a dang as long as his routine is uninterrupted. And damn it, there are just too many cats in shelters!
So we went back to Animal Friends this weekend with some very choosy criteria. We were looking for a young cat who was playful, but not overly aggressive. Cat-friendly without being people-shy. Remarkably, we found just such a guy! We were all set to box him up and bring him home.
But there’s a catch. Kitteh in question is currently on a 14-day course of antibiotics for some sniffles, and was only on day 4. We’d have had to keep him separate from out cats for 10 days and dose him every night. We already give meds to one cat daily, so it sounded too taxing. We decided to wait five days and if he is still there, go back and get him. Five days, we can deal with (we need to keep him apart from Ed and Gandalf for about that long anyway just to introduce him.) This Wednesday will be five days, so please won’t you join us in holding hands and saying “Om”, or lighting a votive candle, or praying to your alabaster bust of Elvis that no one else takes him between now and Wednesday.
He’s just a wee dainty thing, very affectionate and played very politely with the other cat we tested him with.
While I have your attention, we’re as usual looking for input on name choices. The selections are…
Barrett. After Syd. I admit I’ve really wanted to name a cat this for some time. But this kitty is so sane and even-tempered, would it be wrong to name him Barrett?
Basil. After, you know… Have always loved this name. Pronounced BAZ-il, not BAY-sil.
Dashiell. Left over from the dog name list. For Dashiell Hammett, and just a damn cool name.
Archer. Because kitty’s shelter name is Archie, and Archer is a 500% improvement. Also the last name of Sam Spade’s partner in The Maltese Falcon.
Oh, and BW just told me to throw in Mycroft as an option. Let the opinions fly!
Friday Night Lights has been done for going on a year now, but it still exerts its power over me in sneaky, unexpected ways.
Like today, all I was doing was dropping in on Pajiba for some movie news when I saw this:
AND TEARS CAME TO MY EYES!
I didn’t even read the article. Oh Dillon, Texas…what have you wrought? I broke down and purchased FNL season 1 on DVD, and it sits there on the shelf like a lodestone. I’m both tempted by and frightened of the thought of experiencing the full emotional impact of that season again. So far I haven’t succumbed.
But it’s comforting to know that if I ever need Coach Taylor, he’s right here with me forever.
Yesterday, of course, was the celebration of the birth of our Blessed Saviour in the city of Tupelo. On that Holiest of Holy Days, I usually do not mention that it is also the day of David Bowie’s birth. Not because I’ve forgotten, but because the Lawd Himself said, “I am the Lawd your god, and ye shall have none other before me.”
David Bowie is clearly of Divine origin, but he is like the Holy Spirit, and Elvis is the Father, the Alpha, the Prime-Mover. All things, even Bowie, exist only at the will of the Father.
But now that’s it’s the day after Emas, we may pay our due worship to both our Lawd and his most exalted servant, who is seated at the right hand of the Father Almighty. Come, let us pray:
Continuing on with the Year of the Rant, today’s topic is simple, yet all-encompassing:
What the fuck is wrong with people?
Through Facebook, I’m subscribed to updates from Animal Friends, Pittsburgh’s no-kill shelter. I also visit their site a lot to look at the animals for adoption. I should not do this, I know. It’s like picking at a wound. But I can’t help it, and my personal failings aren’t the point today.
The point is that I’ve become pretty familiar with the animals on their webpage, the relative numbers of dogs vs. cats, and I’ve learned this: People will adopt dogs. People don’t adopt cats.
Which leads me to today’s subject. I repeat, what the fuck is wrong with people?
The few times a dog there has caught my eye, it is gone within a week. But when I browse the cats, I see the same little faces, day after day, week after week. There are several cats there who have been at the shelter for over a year, some close to two.
What the fuck is wrong with people?
In sheer numbers, there are usually about 4-5 pages of dogs at any time, but 7-8 of cats. When I see Facebook posts from the shelter celebrating a weekend with a high number of adoptions, I go to the website and I see that the number of dogs has shrunk considerably, the number of cats has stayed the same.
What the fuck is wrong with people?
Will somebody tell me? Because I do not and can not understand it. Do people hate cats that much? Are they that much the second-class citizens of the pet world? Anybody who thinks so can please go and rot in hell now, hopefully in a tiny cage for all eternity.
I know that a lot of the dogs being adopted will end up dumped because idiots don’t realize how much work they are, but that’s part of my point. As my buddy Janet so rightly pointed out, if you take a gamble on a shelter dog with an unknown past, that dog could potentially wreak some serious havoc. Dogs can EAT whole items of furniture. They can break windows, and chew through doors and rip out drywall. A troubled shelter cat can at most, meow loudly, hide a lot, and urinate inappropriately. Isn’t that a no-brainer?! (I’m not saying that all shelter animals are troubled, I know they aren’t. I’m just laying out worst-case scenarios here.)
What the fuck is wrong with people?
The catalyst for this rant was a Facebook post from Animal Friends about a little black and white cat who has been living in shelters since March 2010. Think about that. BW and I have been exploring and soul-searching the idea of adopting him, not because we want or think that a 3rd cat is a great idea, but because 2 years in shelters is a million shades of wrong. He is obviously not going to find a home unless some cat-person steps up. So the vast bulk of asshole humanity puts those few of us into a difficult position, and I do. not. appreciate. it.
And one of my favorite condiments is salad dressing. Like most people who grew up in the U.S., I have an abiding fondness for Ranch dressing. As a kid, I used to hit the salad bar and make a “salad” consisting of a pile of croutons and cheese, doused in Ranch. As a teen I graduated to french fries with Ranch. Sure, I could get all up on an adult, Foodie high-horse but, truth be told…..I’d happily eat those right now if my adult, Foodie conscience would allow it.
But it won’t. I haven’t eaten Ranch dressing for over a decade. The fat content, the calories…just can’t justify it. And I’ve tried the “light” versions. In a word: JOKES! Either they taste like wallpaper paste OR some “light” ones still have 70 calories per serving OR they’re filled with high fructose corn syrup to make up for the fat. OR all of the above. Nasty, nasty, nasty. So like a good adult I’ve suffered and eaten my Light Balsamic Vinaigrettes and the like.
Until now! My friends, I have found the holy grail of salad dressing: Light Ranch that tastes good and is actually healthy!
(I know, I know. I could buy some buttermilk, some yogurt, some seasonings, and make my own. I don’t want to. I make enough of my own food already, it’s not the 18th century, and I want my convenience foods, goddang it! )
Anyway Bolthouse Farms, known for their all-natural/organic juices and produce, have come out with a line of salad dressing and so far I’ve loved every one that I’ve tried. Especially the Ranch!
The key is that it’s made with yogurt, so it’s thick and creamy and tangy, but the fat and calories are kept to a minimum and NO HFCS! Here’s the nutritional label:
Calories per serving: 45. Fat: 3g. Sat Fat: 0.5g. Sugars: 2g.
In addition to the Ranch, I’ve tried the Honey Mustard. It was great too and, unlike most, was not loaded with sugar. I bought a bottle of Blue Cheese (there was a sale!) but I haven’t tried it yet. I expect good things.
2011 was the year of Suffering in Silence. I declare 2012 the Year of the Rant! And this one has been simmering for a good six months. I may not have any friends left when this is over, but what’s a new year for if not clearing the decks?
Ahhh, the holiday is over and Stay-Cation can begin! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday or non-holiday in whatever ways make you happiest.
If you’re of the Judeo-Christian persuasion, didja get any cool presents? I sure did. Excuse my inner 9 year-old, but I like to rattle off my list of Yuletide booty. I asked everyone to scale back this year, as I can’t return the favor (Unemployment, whoopie!), but we still got an abundance of amazing stuff anyway. Thanks, everybody. I’ll put you in my will.
Val Lewton DVD collection (me), Star Trek movies Blu-ray set (BW), and Apocalypse Now also on Blu-ray (BW)
Super-cute owl pajama bottoms and comfy top from Anthropologie!
wine
Belgian ale
In Cold Blood 1st edition!
a Shaun White long-sleeve tee
Fat Squirrel Brown Ale imported from WI
a humongous bottle of Flying Fox shower gel!
more chocolate than I know what to do with, including THIS! OMG!
a cute cardigan I first tried on at the Seattle Nordstrom
Some ridiculous, crack-like rum balls that our nephew baked
and of course….more Shaun White gum. Heh. I swear, the invention of that gum has been the biggest gift boon to all of my friends and family. Not that I mind. Gum ain’t cheap, y’all!
So, does no one update their blogs anymore because no one reads blogs anymore, or does no one read blogs anymore because no one updates their blogs anymore? The point is, Facebook has broken all of those eggs AND made nuggets out of the chicken.
But, if anyone is out there within the sound of my voice, here’s a brief rundown of what’s going on. (The fact that very, very little is going on doesn’t help either.)
Still unemployed
Have had 3 job interviews in the past month.
I think I have a decent chance of getting hired for any of them, but it’s the Hellidays so everyone’s staff and HR departments are away until 2012, so who knows when I’ll learn anything either way.
I have become a desperate, desperate BBC Sherlock obsessive fangirl. Eek. SO much fun!
Will probably see Girl With The Eating Disorder this week, but I’m not sure why.
Teresa and Howard, our friends from Memphis, just departed after a swell visit this weekend. We ate a lot, and went to the Aviary, they met Whistler, and we tried to show them the bits of PGH that don’t suck.
The first stop of the winter Dew Tour was this weekend, and because I’m a bad hostess, I forced my guests to watch it. I’m sure they didn’t mind, though because Shaun Kicked ASS. Behold the awesome! That first air…..jesus mother-effing Elvis on toast!! *swoon*
Try and watch that while listening to this for the full effect…..
After weeks of squirming in my seat with anticipation, I will NOT be seeing Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy this weekend because the 9th is the opening date for those despised three words only. Pittsburgh has never been a Select City, and it never will be a Select City. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
So instead I will just carry on torturing myself with this and beating my head against my desk.
I think we barely scratched the tip of the iceberg in seeing Seattle, but that said, I agree with Jil…it was a little underwhelming. Don’t get me wrong: I compare every place with PGH, and compared with PGH, Seattle is a whole other universe in terms of being modern, progressive, clean, the people are 1,000x more attractive, the shopping is 1,000x better, they fund their libraries, yadda yadda yadda. And as a person who lives in PGH, I am always simply appreciative whenever I go anyplace where I am not visually pummeled by hideousness all day long.
I would move there in a minute. But I think it’s one of those “It’s nice to live in, but you wouldn’t want to visit there” towns. The quality of life seems awesome, but the tourist attractions are weak. And without a subway it’s a little hard to explore, because the size of the place is massive. The waterfront left much to be desired, and Pike’s Place Market wasn’t all that enthralling. (Again, spoiled by Toronto.) Dining options in the downtown core were surprisingly pedestrian…I think maybe one has to go out into the neighborhoods to find better options?
Another thing that surprised me was the amount/extent of sprawl. It just went on and ON, although in Seattle, even the sprawl isn’t ugly because it’s all partly concealed by trees. Still, it was a disappointing to see.
But OUTSIDE of Seattle/the sprawl is another story. LOVED it. Was simply stunned/worshipful of the mountains, the forests, everything. I would go back to see more of the countryside (and go back to Roslyn!) anytime. So my not-very-informed verdict is: love Washington State, meh on Seattle.
And now maybe, maybe I can stop having this stuck in my head? Get ‘em, Court.
(Very) early tomorrow morning, BW and I are off to Seattle for a week. BW has the SuperComputing 2011 conference to attend, while I plan to just schlep around. This is our first trip to the Pacific Northwest, though we’ve talked about it for years.
And I have thought about it for decades. In the 90′s, I’d have given a limb or organ to be able to visit Roslyn, Washington, a sleepy village about 90 minutes outside of Seattle. Roslyn “portrayed” Cicely, Alaska on Northern Exposure. For five years the show was filmed there and every NEX fan dreamt of going and finding that Cicely was a real place and never, ever leaving. Or at least, going there and meeting John Corbett and Darren Burrows.
So on Saturday morning we have plans to pick up a rental car and set out. Twenty-odd years too late, but I hear the town hasn’t changed much. I’m a little apprehensive that it won’t live up to expectations. Or that it will and I’ll stand on a streetcorner weeping. But there’s no way that I wouldn’t make this pilgrimage. I leave you with a glimpse of Cicely…and some Ed Chigliak…
It’s a little less elegant of a solution than I’d envisioned. I’d wanted to find a display light that we could physically mount onto the skateboard itself, using the pre-drilled truck holes, but IKEA didn’t have anything that fit the bill. And if they didn’t then no one else would, either. But this looks pretty badass, especially at night, and I can console myself that I kept the deck pristine. In case I can ever get Foxy to sign it.
Still over one month to go until the remake of Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy hits theaters.
*sigh*
If you need to be reminded why that’s depressing: 1. Gary Oldman’s name is above the title on this one! 2. From the director of Let The Right One In 3. Gary “The Alec Guinness of his generation” playing a role originated by Alec “The Gary Oldman of his generation” Guinness, and finally 4. LOOK at this triumvirate of hotness from this flick!
The Firth! The Oldman! The Cumberbatch! Is there such a thing as too much British hotness?! No.
Tom Hardy is also in it, if you like that sort of thing. I don’t.
We caught Puss In Boots (in Imax 3D) over the weekend, and I’m giving it my hearty endorsement. I hated the Shrek movies, but I loved the Puss in Boots character, and it was getting very good reviews so we gave it a shot. I can’t remember the last time that I saw an animated film that I enjoyed before this. Puss In Boots avoids all of the pitfalls that make modern animated movies horrible.
It contains NONE of the following:
Singing!
Product placements
Crude/rude fart jokes
Horrible gender stereotypes
Rapping
Pop-culture references
Horrible ethnic stereotypes
Gratuitous video game tie-ins
What it does have is endearing characters who develop in a naturalistic way, great voice acting, a good old fashioned fairy tale story, and humour that is gentle and not forced. You will not leave the theater feeling:
Ashamed you just watched that
As if your intelligence has been insulted
Although in general I feel yucky about computer animated movies (sorry, I like drawings) and the overuse of 3D, I have to admit Puss In Boots looked great. The Sergio Leone landscapes are beautiful and the 3D effects are not obnoxious.
And did I mention how much I love the Puss In Boots character? Definitely if you love cats, you’ll like this movie. Its loving observations of their behavior are spot-on. Whereas most animated flicks about (ewww!) kids have sappy endings that make me roll my eyes, Puss In Boots ended with a reunion between a cat and his human mom that made me shed several tears. That’s the sort of parenting I want to see movies endorse!!
And finally if you believe, as I do, that within many a small housecat beats the heart of a swashbuckler, you will love Puss In Boots.
Have you ever read this blog and asked yourself, “What the hell is wrong with that crazy bitch?”
Sure, we all have.
Well I’ll show you what’s wrong with me. THIS. This right here.
The Fox & The Hound, released in July of 1981 when I was 8 years old. This shit was my Twilight. I don’t know how many times I saw this movie. I may have actually seen it only once, but it burned itself onto my brain so intensely that it seems like I must have watched it dozens of times. It was the most enthralling (to me), yet utterly heart-stabbing, soul-destroying movie I’d ever seen to that point. (Star Trek II and III hadn’t been released yet. Those major traumas were thankfully yet to come.)
I don’t think I’ve viewed F&H since 1981. But BW bought me the 30th anniversary blu-ray for my birthday. I don’t know whether to thank him or kick him. I cannot get all the way through this cartoon! I cannot! I’m a freaking basket case!! My eyes started tearing up in the first minute when the mama fox is running from the hunters with her teeny baby fox kit in her mouth. And then it’s ok for a while, but gawd, everything about this movie kills me!
If you are not of the 80′s or somehow you missed it, Fox & the Hound is all about a kit and a puppy who become best friends and they just want to play and they love each other like SO MUCH you guys, and it is the cutest, sweetest thing ever. But cruel society intervenes! First the evil hunter chains the puppy up so he can’t go play with the fox (I cry at that part), and then he tries to SHOOT THE BABY FOX when the fox tries to see the puppy! (I curl up into a fetal ball at that part.) Then the hunter takes the puppy and his other dog away for the hunting season.
And then…and then, the puppy comes back all grown into a trained hunting hound and the fox grows up too and becomes kinda hot…
And then the hound tells the fox they shouldn’t be friends anymore! And the hunter chases the fox and the fox accidentally hurts the other, older dog and so the fox gets taken away and ABANDONED by the old lady who was caring for him! And…and he’s all alone wet and cold in the woods. (I can’t watch that part.) But then he meets a fox chick, and that’s ok. BUT THEN, the hunter and his former best friend hound try to hunt him down and kill him!
And…oh gawd, it was so traumatizing! And…finally the hound ends up fighting a bear, and…the fox…this wee little fox…jumps in and attacks the huge giant bear to try to save his friend’s life!! Which he does, but gets seriously wounded and, at last, the hound stands over the injured body of his fox friend and refuses to let the hunter shoot. But then they part to live their separate lives. Jesus. You know I was crying as I typed that?
Shut up, it’s not funny! I have issues as a result of this. Some kind of weird, anthropomorphizing psycho-sexual permanent issues, that I believe need to be addressed and compensated. Who does this cruel stuff to an unsuspecting 8 year old??
So I did a little research and obviously, Walt Disney himself was dead by 1981 the year that
Hey! I’m trying to explain serious stuff here….
By 1981, Walt Disney was long gone and so was Don Bluth. One Ron Miller became president of Walt Disney Productions in 1980 and CEO in 1983. He also had executive producing credit on The Fox and The Hound.
Mr. Miller, you may be retired now but it is well past time that you were held accountable. Expect a legal document outlining my settlement terms. I wish I could get this guy to deliver it to you,
but you’ll probably be hearing from his legal counsel one of these days too.
I’m sure they didn’t mind, though because Shaun Kicked ASS. Behold the awesome! That first air…..jesus mother-effing Elvis on toast!! *swoon*
