Very tired. Feel like I was dragged through a cobblestone street by a team of bison on stampede. Ugh. The kids were "ok" well except for the nephew's excessively high pitched screaming. I could've done without that.
Maybe the worst part of the experience was fighting with the iPod for Mother. The lights worked, iTunes showed the songs stored but there was no damned audible sound! Something obviously went wrong during one of the times the install crashed on Windows XP. I was starting to dream of the lanyard as a noose! Finally it worked after doing a "reset to factory settings" and she's listening away. Clearly Apple has work to do to make it more bulletproof and Microsoft can **** itself sidewise with a bail of razor wire. A pox on that company.
This was more emotionally taxing than changing the Transformer I'd gotten my brother into the robot form. That was tedious. It wasn't "hard" it was just more complex than expected, the modern instructions SUCK and I was a bit too cautious on what was a moveable part and what was not. Sometimes those joints are very stiff and need some decent muscle behind them to move. Who decided this was a suitable toy for ages 5+? I say it's too complex. However, the thing is brilliant! Very attractive in both forms. I got it specifically for the car state and because my brother was also a Transformers fan growing up.
The food was... well not as greasy as some years. In fact the biscuits were giant croutons by the time the SIL remembered them in the oven. Oops. I ate some of them anyway. It was almost like old times when mother used to good. Everything had to be mummified right from the oven: mashed potatoes, meats, mac-n-cheese...
I'd only eaten a blueberry muffin today. I filled up on carbs: potatoes, breads, stuffing. The dehydrated turkey. The green beans were canned! CANNED! Sure they were store-brand but they were C-A-N-N-E-D. Frozen is the only suitable non-fresh veggie form. Canned! I wanted to cry for these poor once organic, now metallic things. They didn't harm anyway. Didn't stay for desert in case fog was thick on the journey back to the zilla's cave. Some cookies were given as a parting gift. The SIL was embarrassed they turned out so flat although she assured us they tasted fine. I've used that recipe before, in my uni days. They'd go pretty flat. I used to use a recipe from someone but since he committed suicide it just hasn't seemed right. That and I can get pre-made cookie dough inexpensively (Nestle Tollhouse in the tube, not those break-and-bakes which use a different formulation) and get a fine, consistent cookie. I like to freeze the dough roll and then cut it (a benefit of good german knives), package and all into "coins" giving me around 16 or so.
The SIL's brother's son might be a Jew but the kid, apparently, has no concept of his roots. He "gets" Christmas but not Hanukkah. Pity. Jews have a very rich history. He's probably 5 by now.
Will write more as time allows. I'm on the verge of collapse.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
I Need Drag Queen Training...
So I was going to wear red and green nail polishes for Christmas. Well, let's just say that I'd be fired the first episode if Rupaul had an Apprentice TV series. I did one green thumb and it was blotchy, then smeared... I couldn't get it to smooth out. Boo-hoo. Dejected, I got the polish remover. So I gave up on this idea. I guess it'll be a butch Christmas after all. Oh my... I suddenly have the melody of "It's a small world afterall" in my head! When I was small I dragged a victimized parent (or guardian, I don't remember who "volunteered") back through the "Small World" ride at Disney because I loved it. It's still really cool in my mind and who doesn't like the song. Right? RIGHT!? Ok, everyone hates the song but I was a kid and I liked it dang it!
So it's Christmas, wrapping up Down Under in about 90 minutes and just over 3 hours old here in the Western States. I've got the car packed and just wrapped two books for the nephew. The cat's stocking has her new collar in it and the catnip and hairball paste are on the mantel above.
I don't know if I want to do dinner with the SIL, et al. First off, garlic has no business in mashed potatoes! Second, the butter content is high enough to put a team of cardiologists on the moon. Third, I'll either be tired as hell and fall asleep on the sofa or my head will feel like a slowing tightening noose as the neice and nephew bounce off the walls. And if the SIL's brother's son is there to whine like a banshee I'll be down for the count. Kid's a Jew, what's he doing celebrating Christmas anyway? Will the Tylenol flow like baby's drool? Ok, so I'm feeling a bit anxious finally. I haven't really played "uncle" this year and I'm kind of burned out at the thought. Ok, I don't want to do dinner but told mother is she *really* wants to stay, fine. We'll stay and I'll play plate hockey with a slab of dried up turkey flesh. Maybe I can fill up on biscuits and honey like last year?
Maybe I'm just uptight about the hackish acting adults invariably do when getting gifts. I can tell. I have the emotional intelligence of an amoeba but I'm not blind. I know my brother's gotten me something and he has already said he thinks I'll like it which is code for "Fake it if you have to, you fuck."
We three (brother, myself and Mother) went out to the cemetary yesterday to deliver the little Christmas tree for Father. I didn't really "visit" with him. What am I going to say to a slab of marble? "Hi there. You're dead and I'm not, see you next time." So I wandered the nearby markers taking note of dates and what wars were served in. One was depressing since it was for a soldier's twin sons. Born and died the same day. Both of them. Must've been a living hell. And there's a missing headstone. There's no temporary between old and new markers so I guess the person was "dug up" and no one has been put in that open spot. Maybe Father wanted a better view. It's right in front of him. Still, I can understand going out there and cleaning off the pine needles or fertilizer but what's this business of getting all sentimental and "talking" to the dead? I cleaned off a couple of markers which were put down in September. I thought it was the least I could do. Besides, Father haunts my dreams many a night as it is. I admit I "feel" more for Father than I did when he was alive. It's very strange but perhaps it's because he was so closed off in life that in death he can't remind me of how distant he was even in the same room. We had a terribly disconnected relationship. I did my best by him in the end. I think we reached some kind of "understanding" on that level. Maybe I'm projecting but who cares? Just me I guess, so fuck off. :)
What did all of my loyal readers do with their Christmas cheer? Ok, there's no loyalty among readers. We all know that!
The first "gay themed" film I can recall watching was something called "Edge of Seventeen" which is set in the 1980's and features the song "Hey Mickey." It's not high art by any measure but there's some truth in the scene where the main character Eric tells Maggie, his best friend (girl) that he wants to be with her and that he can love her "like that." This is after he "came out" to her and had experimented with (groan) Rod. Eric thought Rod "loved" him but Rod goes back to college and Eric learns he was just a fling. The weight of this realization lead him to wooing Maggie who has long had feelings for him. After he sleeps with Maggie, she realizes he's cold the next morning and that he really doesn't (or can't) love her "like that" so she storms out. At the same time (hey, I said this wasn't "high art") his mom finds a matchbook from a gay club in his laundry and confronts him. He chases after Maggie. At the end, their friendship is apparently over. He ends up at the gay club and "out" to his mom. Whether he ends up going to NY or not to study music is left to the viewer.
*sigh*
So it's Christmas, wrapping up Down Under in about 90 minutes and just over 3 hours old here in the Western States. I've got the car packed and just wrapped two books for the nephew. The cat's stocking has her new collar in it and the catnip and hairball paste are on the mantel above.
I don't know if I want to do dinner with the SIL, et al. First off, garlic has no business in mashed potatoes! Second, the butter content is high enough to put a team of cardiologists on the moon. Third, I'll either be tired as hell and fall asleep on the sofa or my head will feel like a slowing tightening noose as the neice and nephew bounce off the walls. And if the SIL's brother's son is there to whine like a banshee I'll be down for the count. Kid's a Jew, what's he doing celebrating Christmas anyway? Will the Tylenol flow like baby's drool? Ok, so I'm feeling a bit anxious finally. I haven't really played "uncle" this year and I'm kind of burned out at the thought. Ok, I don't want to do dinner but told mother is she *really* wants to stay, fine. We'll stay and I'll play plate hockey with a slab of dried up turkey flesh. Maybe I can fill up on biscuits and honey like last year?
Maybe I'm just uptight about the hackish acting adults invariably do when getting gifts. I can tell. I have the emotional intelligence of an amoeba but I'm not blind. I know my brother's gotten me something and he has already said he thinks I'll like it which is code for "Fake it if you have to, you fuck."
We three (brother, myself and Mother) went out to the cemetary yesterday to deliver the little Christmas tree for Father. I didn't really "visit" with him. What am I going to say to a slab of marble? "Hi there. You're dead and I'm not, see you next time." So I wandered the nearby markers taking note of dates and what wars were served in. One was depressing since it was for a soldier's twin sons. Born and died the same day. Both of them. Must've been a living hell. And there's a missing headstone. There's no temporary between old and new markers so I guess the person was "dug up" and no one has been put in that open spot. Maybe Father wanted a better view. It's right in front of him. Still, I can understand going out there and cleaning off the pine needles or fertilizer but what's this business of getting all sentimental and "talking" to the dead? I cleaned off a couple of markers which were put down in September. I thought it was the least I could do. Besides, Father haunts my dreams many a night as it is. I admit I "feel" more for Father than I did when he was alive. It's very strange but perhaps it's because he was so closed off in life that in death he can't remind me of how distant he was even in the same room. We had a terribly disconnected relationship. I did my best by him in the end. I think we reached some kind of "understanding" on that level. Maybe I'm projecting but who cares? Just me I guess, so fuck off. :)
What did all of my loyal readers do with their Christmas cheer? Ok, there's no loyalty among readers. We all know that!
The first "gay themed" film I can recall watching was something called "Edge of Seventeen" which is set in the 1980's and features the song "Hey Mickey." It's not high art by any measure but there's some truth in the scene where the main character Eric tells Maggie, his best friend (girl) that he wants to be with her and that he can love her "like that." This is after he "came out" to her and had experimented with (groan) Rod. Eric thought Rod "loved" him but Rod goes back to college and Eric learns he was just a fling. The weight of this realization lead him to wooing Maggie who has long had feelings for him. After he sleeps with Maggie, she realizes he's cold the next morning and that he really doesn't (or can't) love her "like that" so she storms out. At the same time (hey, I said this wasn't "high art") his mom finds a matchbook from a gay club in his laundry and confronts him. He chases after Maggie. At the end, their friendship is apparently over. He ends up at the gay club and "out" to his mom. Whether he ends up going to NY or not to study music is left to the viewer.
*sigh*
Friday, December 23, 2005
Actor Brad Renfro Arrested in "Skid Row" Drug Bust
Most remember him from "The Client" 11 years ago (IMDB entry) it's horrible to see what he looks like today (age 23!). L.A. Times news of arrest.
In earlier times:
Another young Hollywood star, Devon Sawa ("Final Destination"), was arrested during the past month in Burbank but I don't know the nature of the charge.
In earlier times:
Another young Hollywood star, Devon Sawa ("Final Destination"), was arrested during the past month in Burbank but I don't know the nature of the charge.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
Yes, I'm still alive!
Been lazy on updating the blog. You know how the holidays can be. The past two days I've been feeling uncharacteristically "good" which, of course, makes me immediately suspicious.
All the gifts are wrapped. My brother was over the other day to put together the niece's bicycle. I think we're owed a set of reflectors because I can't imagine why a bicycle would be sold without them for the usual spots when the pedals have some built in. What else? Oh, the tree finally got up. That's actually big news.
It's a brand-new artificial tree with the lights pre-hung. We bought a pile of decorations back in the 2003 holiday season but never used them for our holiday spirit was pretty much in the toilet in light of father's death in '02. Well they're up on the tree this year. Brother said he couldn't remember the last time we had a full-sized tree. It's probably been easily over 10 years, maybe closer to 15. Since then we've either done without or had very small trees of maybe 1 meter.
So the nephew is getting a lump of coal from his parents. Seriously. Seems they're for sale online. Ok, that's not all he's getting but this is the "gag" gift. Now before learning of this, I took ages to individually wrap each of his gifts and then put them in one box and wrap it so it looks as if he's shorted. The kid's going to need therapy. No, it's the niece that needs therapy or something. She's still not embracing learning and the alphabet and it looks like she won't be able to get into a pre-school. I'll consider an intervention if she's not improved by springtime. We know from other evaluations that she's six months back of her peers but I'm not convinced she's going to be ready for Kindergarten in 2006. The sister-in-law is getting a remote control spider. Yes, this is the arachnophobic SIL. OK, so what good is a spell-checker if it misses words that are in the damned included dictionary? Bah. Technology by trilobites.
I had a wet dream the other day. I know because, well... anyway I can't remember a damned thing about the dream. That's not fair!
I have some entertainment comments to catch up on with Prison Break on a fall hiatus until March or something and with some movies to spout off on too. But that can wait.
All the gifts are wrapped. My brother was over the other day to put together the niece's bicycle. I think we're owed a set of reflectors because I can't imagine why a bicycle would be sold without them for the usual spots when the pedals have some built in. What else? Oh, the tree finally got up. That's actually big news.
It's a brand-new artificial tree with the lights pre-hung. We bought a pile of decorations back in the 2003 holiday season but never used them for our holiday spirit was pretty much in the toilet in light of father's death in '02. Well they're up on the tree this year. Brother said he couldn't remember the last time we had a full-sized tree. It's probably been easily over 10 years, maybe closer to 15. Since then we've either done without or had very small trees of maybe 1 meter.
So the nephew is getting a lump of coal from his parents. Seriously. Seems they're for sale online. Ok, that's not all he's getting but this is the "gag" gift. Now before learning of this, I took ages to individually wrap each of his gifts and then put them in one box and wrap it so it looks as if he's shorted. The kid's going to need therapy. No, it's the niece that needs therapy or something. She's still not embracing learning and the alphabet and it looks like she won't be able to get into a pre-school. I'll consider an intervention if she's not improved by springtime. We know from other evaluations that she's six months back of her peers but I'm not convinced she's going to be ready for Kindergarten in 2006. The sister-in-law is getting a remote control spider. Yes, this is the arachnophobic SIL. OK, so what good is a spell-checker if it misses words that are in the damned included dictionary? Bah. Technology by trilobites.
I had a wet dream the other day. I know because, well... anyway I can't remember a damned thing about the dream. That's not fair!
I have some entertainment comments to catch up on with Prison Break on a fall hiatus until March or something and with some movies to spout off on too. But that can wait.
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