Since I can't tell you how many shirts I have had destroyed by splattering grease and whatnot, I have taken to wearing aprons while cooking.  Even in trackpants and a $6 Target t-shirt, I feel completely June Cleaver-ish while wearing an apron - I might as well be wearing heels and pearls...ta da! 

I could *win* this apron courtesy of a contest at Smockity Frocks which makes it all the more succulent...nevermind the darling strawberries and sweet red gingham. 

Go!  Buy aprons!! :)

If you don't have a love of the game, you're gonna think I'm a crazy woman - guaranteed.  My Ravens made the playoffs.  No big surprise there - we're a solid team with some bigtime players.  I remember the moment over the summer when I heard that Steve McNair was coming to Baltimore...*sigh*, it was then that I knew we'd very likely get to this place in the post-season.  Then, a mere month later...meeting him at the restaurant where I worked (for something like 3 days) felt like some kind of serendipitous occasion.  Barring serious injuries, I never doubted the Ravens' appearance in the playoffs this season.

Now that it's here, I am beyond excited.  What I *am* may not even be considered a positive emotion.  Yay - my football team is doing great but why am I so anxious?  So nervous?  So terrrrrified?  I spent the morning in the minivan, listening to talk radio.  Baltimore has Ravens fever and everyone has an opinion.  They've got in the bag!  Oh God, they're gonna lose their asses.  I can't handle hearing it all, but then I can't change the station over to plain ol' music because OHMYGOSH, someone could be talking about the Ravens and I'll miss crucial insight regarding this week's matchup.  And where would I be without knowing up to the minute facts about point spread and the health of Jonathan Ogden's toe??

Have I mentioned we play THE COLTS this weekend?  The headline on today's paper said something like "MOST IMPORTANT SPORTING EVENT TO EVVVERRRRR COME TO BALTIMORE".  If that's not enough to make you need Prozac, well...I just can't confirm what is.  I mean.  The COLTS.  Commercially celebrated Peyton Manning who has choked in the post season every year thus far when he's supposedly the greatest QB in the league.  The COLTS.  Same ones who left Baltimore back in '84 via a notorious Maytag truck.  "Like thieves in the night", we've heard told time and again.  They left us and took their records with them... our beloved Johnny U now appearing under Indianapolis's section in the NFL Hall of Fame. 

Baltimore caught a lot of heat for the way the Ravens franchise was obtained back in 1996.  Cleveland wasn't building the Browns a new stadium, their franchise was losing money and the longtime owner wanted out of the city as a result.  He moved to Baltimore, leaving the Browns' colors, history, records and saga in the city of Cleveland.  They were rewarded with a new team within 2 years.  Baltimore started from scratch, building the Ravens.  I've always felt like we were a team that induced a sneer among the NFL elite - it was particularly sweet when we won the SuperBowl in the 2000-'01 season with straight up defense, the way we had to be.  That year was destiny.  This year... to be determined. 

All I know is I'm in deep.  We just can't lose to those dastardly Colts.  Some days I wonder if I'll ever really be able to detach myself from this city and this feeling.  No matter how sick it all makes me.  :)

Happy 2007, yo.  I rang it in with a bang...working and watching the Twilight Zone.  Watching the ball drop with poor ol' Dick Clark.  What I was really looking forward to were the gossip blogs the day after.  Britney passed out!  Jessica slobbered all over John Mayer!  Sadly, I love that stuff. 

Resolutions...bah.  All I want in 2007 is to be able to string my Christmas lights from a Palmetto tree.  :)

Happy Birthday, Duggie. 

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Shopping, wrapping, working, having a sinus infection.  Not baking.  Definitely not blogging.  *sigh*

Merry Christmas to all!!  Fries With Gravy will be back as soon as possible. :)

The blogger behind Life in a Shoe is holding a contest for other bloggers who write about her wonderful business venture www.GenevaBiblePages.com. You can order a framed original page from a Geneva Bible, and honestly, these are *gorgeous* and would make a beautiful gift for a faithful friend or family member.

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The 1599 Geneva Bible was a veritable milestone in our spiritual heritage: it was the first study Bible; the first to assign chapter and verse numbers; the first to be printed in a portable and affordable edition.

It was the Bible of the Puritans; the Bible of Shakespeare; the Bible of the great Reformers; the Bible of the common man.

It has been over 400 years since this edition of the Geneva Bible was first printed.

Now you can own a piece of this history of God's Word.

Your original leaf from the the Geneva Bible will be painstakingly preserved in an acid-free environment to maintain its beauty and value for generations to come.

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The website explains that the page you order comes from a "breaker book" so no Bibles are harmed in the process of gifting.  Go check it out!!

2. How many children call you Mommy/Mom/Mama?
Technically, 3.  My nephew calls me "Momma, Momma" and then gets a good look at me and corrects himself to, "Deena, Deena"

3. Girl? Boy? Both?
Boy, Girl, Girl

4. Did you know what you were having?
Yes, I'm impatient and curious and had to know how to decorate.  Classic Pooh for the boy (how I loved the idea of English Christopher Robin) and some pink and green Waverly coordinates for the girls.  

5. How old were you when you became a Mom?:
24

6. How long were you in labor?

After a seemingly sucky pregnancy with toxemia and a month of bedrest, I was (finally!) induced at 7am for Seth and he was born at 3:16pm.  It was easy and I pushed for exactly 15 minutes. Claire and Grace were born by c-section, 9 weeks early.  No labor, but more worry and pain than should ever be considered natural.  Awful pregnancies, easy births.

7. What’s your favorite thing about being a mom?

"Because I said so! bwahahahaha!"  I'm also pretty fond of making pigtails.

8. What’s your least favorite thing?
Company in the bathroom.  ahem.

9. Do you want more kids?
Nope.  I think one day when they are all teenaged and surly, I'll want to adopt one.  But then I might just want a Winnebago and some time to hold an actual conversation with my husband.  It depends.

10. Do you plan on having more soon?
That is so not in the plans. 

11. Does daddy change diapers?

Of course he did.  Otherwise, terrible, terrible things.

12. How many times have you been peed on?
At least a few. 

13. Barfed on?
Claire was on reflux meds from minute one.  Enough said.

14. Is your child named after anyone?
Claire's middle name is Kathryn after Doug's mom.  Grace's first name is Sarah after my mom.  Seth is lucky he has a name besides "Baby Boy"  because it was that much effort. 

15. How did you come up with their name(s)?
We were altogether disagreeable on names except for Claire's.  Seth was a compromise between Heath (his) and Alex (mine).  Seth sounded soft and cultured yet masculine and potentially quarterback-ish.  We both loved Claire.  Sarah Grace was an answer to a prayer - poor little dear weighed 2.5 lbs. when she was born... Sarah was my mother and she died right before I found I was pregnant.  Grace was simply God's gift. 

16. When your child gets in trouble, who is the bad guy?
I am the bad, bad guy.

17. And who is the good guy?
Daddy.  Pfft.

18. What is the longest you have been away from your children?
Went to Charleston, SC in 2005 for 3 days.  Went to Berkeley Springs, WV in 2006 for 3 days.  Hey...6 days total.  Not counting the NICU stay for the twins when they were born - that was 6 weeks.

19. Bedtime routine?
teeth brushing, a book, prayers all the way around & turning on the music.  Daddy sings a crazy amount of songs that I just can't deal with because MY GOSH, I'm done, aren't I??

20. Are your toes painted?
But, of course.

21. Last movie you saw in the theatre?
Um.  Um.  Curious George?  Nacho Libre?  WAIT!  Devil Wears Prada?

22. Last time you had a date?
A couple weeks ago we snuck out to Chinese food by ourselves.

23. One thing you will not give up just because you’re a mom?

Painting my toenails?  Sex?  Beer? 

24. One thing you did give up now that you’re a mom?
Career

25. Best mom perk?
Track pants?

26. Snack you sneak bites from your child?
Yeah...all of them. 

27. When the kid is napping, you are?
As if they napped in the past 3 years.

28. Where is your child now?
Asleep.

29. Favorite place to buy maternity clothes?
Target.  And Motherhood.

30. If I could do it over, I’d do this differently:
Milk pregnancy and it's aftermath for all that it's worth, claiming pain and ineptitude at every turn.   SERIOUSLY.

31. What is the craziest thing you have said/done/taught since becoming a mom?
It varies by the day.  I'm pretty crazy.  Santa has a hidden camera in the ceiling fan.  Be good. 

I was just going to write up a standard little book review - gushing about how very much I loved The Lovely Bones.  I'd oddly never heard of the book, which was a surprise bestseller for over a year in 2002.  Well I say oddly, but truth is that in 2002 I had two one-year olds, so it's probably no real oddity that I never read the newspaper nor had any concept that people were still out in the world walking about and eating in restaurants, and reading?  The luxuriating bastards.  Upon begging some friends for book recommendations recently, I stumbled into Alice Sebold's first novel. 

From Wikipedia:

The Lovely Bones (2002), by Alice Sebold, is a novel told in the first person by Susie Salmon, a 14-year-old girl who is raped, murdered, and dismembered in the first chapter. Over the next few years, from a personalized heaven that takes the form of a high school she never lived to attend and its suburban surroundings, she watches her family and friends deal with their grief, while her killer escapes justice and goes on to kill again. She tries to reach a sense of closure herself, with the help of others she becomes acquainted with in heaven. Susie can, when she looks down on Earth, see the lives and thoughts of the people she knew, even those of her murderer. She is largely unable to directly interact with them. However, sometimes, members of her family on Earth can see her very briefly.

I didn't know how well I'd be able to palate the story of a teenage girl being dismembered, but the book is really engaging and at times, even sweet.  Susie's perception of Heaven doesn't make mention of God, but the Wikipedia article makes an interesting point to say:

The birthday party went off without a hitch, even with a daring venture into Mexican cooking.  And how about my ingenuity at incorporating Thank You notes into handwriting practice?  Am I homeschooler extraordinaire or *what*?  Yeah, I'm not...but sometimes I keed. 

Friday Night Lights is such a fabulous new show that if you're not watching, my friend Sherry will hunt you down and make you turn it on because it just better not get canceled, dammit. 

Britney, I am so proud of you, sugar.  That fool (FedEx, lol) has embarrassed you enough. 

I can't get enough Josh Turner.  I thought Faith Hill was just kidding in her self-absorbed, pretentious way of course, but kidding all the same.  Maybe she wasn't.  Either way, she's kinda dumb.  But I just can't get enough Josh Turner.  *le sigh*

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3UUa_fnaa0]

I'm not ready to make nice either.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxJsgXbGhSM]

When you vote in the coming Midterm Election, remember the soldiers & be informed about the reality of the wars we wage.

A letter from Pat's Brother:

It is Pat’s birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we got out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can’t be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few “bad apples” in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It’s interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.
Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.
Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.
Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.
Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.
Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.
Somehow torture is tolerated.
Somehow lying is tolerated.
Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.
Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.
Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.
Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don’t be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that “somehow” was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat’s birthday.

Brother and Friend of Pat Tillman,

Kevin Tillman

Yeah, we do Halloween.  It's one of those things as a Christian parent, you have to make a decision about and in our infinite undecidedness, we kinda figured that we'd just go ahead and run with it because Halloween is SO MUCH FUN.  I have a lot of Christian friends who vary on the issue - some don't allow any celebration, some do the "Harvest Fest" at church, some allow it, but despair any gory costuming.  I really do have reasons beyond it being SO MUCH FUN - I have a sincere fear that one day my kids will look back on thier childhood and think that if they were deprived of trick or treat and Satan Claus, surely we were lunatic-fringe Jesus Freaks and the real answer is in worshipping owl statues in the California woods.  Quiet over there, Dugg.  I respect the parents who make it work and whose children comprehend that they are not like all the other heathens out there begging candy from one door to the next.  I'm just not that gal and would probably spend Halloween night moping about and they'd have me way figured out.  The howling and gnashing of teeth would be mine, because I've mentioned it's SO MUCH FUN, right?

For a few years, the "no gore" costume trick was okay.  The boy was pretty enthralled with Super Heroes and the girls were little and had no say in being twin ladybugs, cowgirls and flowers.  Last year, they got all cocky and went with differing Disney Princesses, woe to me.  The Princess options came up again in early talks but was quickly shut down by the boy, who at almost eight, has taken charge of the Halloween command.  YOU HAVE TO BE SCARY.  No amount of, "Really, you can be anything!  Sleeping Beauty, even.  In her thirty dollar gown, *gulp*"  was having any effect on the word of the boy - see, he is big brother and apparently the man when it comes to decisions such as these. 

Cue the Skeleton Bride.  When she saw the terrible, terrible costume in it's black and white netted, gauzy glory, her little eyes lit up like heathen beacons.  "MOM.  This is it.  I'm a Keleton Bride."   

"Did you see the fairies?  The Southern Belles?"

"KELETON BRIDE.  Mom, look at her makeup!  And her black roses!  I am the Keleton Bride."

And so there was no compromise really.  I was run over, roughshod.  The other twin chose a Bat Fairy that's kinda cute and not directly threatening to the souls of the other kids at the Presbyterian Pre-School.  I don't think.   

We're gonna have SO MUCH FUN.

I just finished reading Nights of Rain and Stars by one of my favorite authors, Maeve Binchy.  Instead of the usual Irish setting, the story that drew the characters together in Nights was in the Greek village of Aghia Anna.  Four characters are running from circumstances in their lives within the US, Germany, England and Ireland.  They become friends in the face of a tragedy within Aghia Anna and bond with the eccentric Irishwoman Vonni, who has made the village her home and with the tragic Andreas, owner of a favored taverna.  It's an intricate tale of bonds between parents and adult children and of lovers and what they mean to one another, charmingly told as usual by Binchy.  I adore the way she writes a story but didn't feel that this was one of her very best novels.  If you're curious to immerse yourself in a Binchy story, I'd suggest Quentin's or Tara Road for starters.  Taking the Ireland out of her books is losing a huge part of the charm, in this reader's humble opinion. 

A positively (or negatively? hahahaha) hysterical song/video from the archives of my misspent youth. I play it annually at Halloween and crack up at the me who actually went to a Type O Negative concert.  They don't mean to be campy, which is the very best part.  The fellow concertgoers were the scariest group of humans (using that term very loosely) I've ever spent two hours bumping into.  Most had...fangs.

Best lines of the song:

"Oh baby, Lily Munster ain't got nothin' on you"

"Yeah, you wanna go out cuz it's raining and blowing.  You can't go out cuz your roots are showin' - dye 'em black."

And who can resist the charm of a songwriter who senses that you really CAN'T go out cuz your roots are showing?

We're selling our house.  Well...we have our house up for sale.  There's really no active *selling* going on at all.  If you know anyone who is in the market for a poorly designed split foyer (you can only see half the backyard from the kitchen window! And you can only see that if you're standing on tip-toes...just, ugh), circa 1973...with yellow aluminum siding, even...well, gimme a call.  I mentioned that we're in a seriously inflated real estate market, right? 

Well, anyway - I have a point here.  The point is that having your house on the market just SUCKS.  There is no eloquent way to describe the process.  You de-clutter.  And you clean.  Then you clean some more because it can't be too clean.  You employ your husband to shampoo carpets after the kids are in bed and can't traipse across them.  You spend Friday afternoon frantically scrubbing the bathroom to a sparkling shine only to come home from work exhausted at midnight to discover that someone has apparently bathed a litter of piglets in the tub.  The conversation went something like this:

"My GOD.  What was in the tub?"

"Huh?"

"Husband! Come and look at this tub that was formerly white.  And sparkling!  Tell me what has been in it. Swamp Thing, perhaps?"

"Uh, I gave the twins a bath." 

"Had they been playing in the coal mines?"

"Huh?"

"THE TUB IS BLACK.  I CLEANED IT TODAY. JUST WONDERING WHAT GIVES."

"I guess I forgot to wipe it out.  Sorry." 

"I guess I forgotten that we were raising young swine."

Who really knows what these children get into.  They disappear from vision (and it's easy to do, given the kitchen window situation) and reappear moments later covered in grime and filth.  They are the type of children who leave a wake of toys in their path, no matter how often I have head-spinning incidents explaining that someone could walk through the door at any moment and declare their want and financial qualification for our home, save the 4 beanie babies (in dresses) on the stairs, the Barbie on the toilet seat (?) and the heap of Pokemon cards on the kitchen counter.   You can argue that all children do these things...leave wayward pillows and blankets and markers and paper, livers and appendixes (appendi?) all about the house - it's simply the nature of children, you suggest.  Ha!  But these other children do not have a mother who really wants to get out of Maryland, do they?  Who really just has a yearn to sit in a chair at the kitchen table and gaze upon her children (out the window! that she can see them from!) stringing their beanie babies from the palmetto tree in the very lush, very Southern back yard.  My children must comply with the rules of house selling... They do not include:

*Dirty rings in the tub.  Stay clean, young ones.

* Not flushing the toilet. 'Nuff said.

* Beanie Babies or the like.  Anywhere other than the bins in your rooms.

* Putting your HANDS ON THE WALLS.  PLEEEEASE stop putting your hands on the walls. 

* Drawing pictures, asking for tape and making murals. 

So much more I can probably think of.  I just find myself walking room to room on this Saturday when we have signs posted all about the town - HOUSE FOR SALE!  OPEN HOUSE!  COME SEE HOW DIRTY THREE KIDS CAN MAKE A PLACE THEIR MOTHER HAS SPENT ALL WEEK TRYING TO SCRUB! - having minor breakdowns each time I stumble upon another little volcano. 

And the next line is:

"Can Maddie come in the house to play in my room?  We promise we won't make a big mess!"

I feel another gray hair making its' wiry way to fruition.

I'm kinda wild about Sally Field.  For a while, she was one of those actresses I'd roll my eyes over because she was someone my mom liked...ohmigosh, I'm way too bershon (oh, you just HAVE to go look it up - click the links! - you'll get all nostalgic over Guess jeans and crack up at the thought of some old picture of yourself) to like SALLY FRICKIN' FIELD.  But now I'm old and don't care and forget to comb my hair before I go to Target, so there.  I am wild about Sally Field. 

I have NEVER been wild about Calista Flockhart.  After I moved out of my parents' house at *sigh*, 21, my mom got all hip with the remote and started watching Ally McBeal, which I refuuuused to ever glance upon.  Aw, look...a quirky little lawyerette in a short skirt.  Yeah, well she didn't rock those skirts quite like Amanda Woodward.  And Calista is so skinny and agh, I mentioned quirky?  I just haven't ever liked her that much.  Plus the Harrison Ford thing - I mean, we all had our Han Solo fantasy but Calista and I were 7 or so back when Harrison was still looking like Han. 

You know what though?  Calista doesn't annoy me on Brothers and Sisters.  Even as the uber-Republican! ;) Her character, Kitty Walker is a talking head on a political talk show and has had a "thing" with her liberal-minded mother (Field) for years.  After years in New York, Kitty returns to California and resumes living among her family and with her suddenly widowed mother.  The cast is rounded out with Ron Rifkin, Balthazar Getty, Rachel Griffiths (looove her!) and Dave Annable, who plays the supercute youngest brother who has a drug problem and shares the fierce loyalty of both mother and sister Kitty.  Good stuff - all the siblings have interesting setups and unique relationships with the mother.  There is also a family business to run and a few of the siblings along with their uncle have their hands in that. 

I read this morning that ABC picked up Brothers & Sisters for the full season, despite declining ratings in the last couple of weeks.  I'll be interested to see how it grows - so far, so good.

Flashback to 1982 - I'm 7 years old and making the car trip to visit my grandparents in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  My brother probably groans as we are close to Grandma's house but we're stuck behind a slow moving Amish buggy.  My dad is probably inspired to tell us about an Amish farmer he worked for as a teenager, how clean and methodical their farms were...how peacefully and respectfully they've lived in the County for hundreds of years.  My mom was probably envisioning quilts or handmade jelly cabinets. :) I was definitely catching the attention of the children who peered out of the back of the buggy.  Waving, smiling girls in dark dresses and bonnets fascinated me beyond words.  I was a product of Little House on the Prairie love (tv and books) and to me, those little girls were living a modern day Laura Ingalls life.

A misconception that I think a lot of people have is that the Amish live in a completely sequestered community.  The truth though (at least as I've always experienced it), is that they do mingle with the "English", their term for modernized Americans.  They are farmers who employ young boys when the fields are ready, they are proprieters and they are neighbors.  My grandfather spent many an hour of his retirement "carrying" Amish friends in his car when they had business or doctor's appointments that were out of the way of where their horse and buggy might comfortably take them.  Though they aren't permitted to own cars, they didn't decline riding in them when the opportunity arose.  Grandpa would get a kick out of playing music for them on the radio as well.  When both of my grandparents passed away, there were Amish friends at the funeral home and there was plenty of Amish food at their house when we returned.  They were separate from the world in their dress and their lifestyle but very much a part of it when it came to community.  In all the time that I'd spent in "Dutch Country" and all the people I'd known who had ever discussed the Amish (and they all will gleefully discuss the Amish), no one had ever had a rude word to say about them.  Kind, generous in spirit, gentle, plain.  Treat their animals well.  Take their children everywhere with them.  Keep their homes and farms clean and in impeccable order. 

I've spent the last week in abject shock over the Amish school shootings.  While the Amish don't live unto themselves entirely, it seems like there is indeed something that separates them from the rest of the world.  Their teenagers aren't influenced by rock or rap music and they don't have to fret about a daughter who comes home with a belly ring or a tattoo on her ankle.  Their children aren't subject to violent cartoons and video games.  Certainly, none of us who do allow Nickelodeon expect to send our kids off to school to be shot either...but the thought of it happening in an Amish schoolhouse is beyond my comprehension.  The idea that someone who lived in the Lancaster community, who interacted with Amish families as he picked up milk from their dairy farms, who was himself a father... tied up those little girls and shot them in their heads is just something that I can't wrap my brain around.  I've read every article in the newspapers that outlines the killer's confession that he sexually molested young relatives 20 years prior, and that he had thoughts of doing it again.  He showed up at that little schoolhouse with SIX HUNDRED rounds of ammunition.  What exactly were his intentions?  How long did he plan to keep those girls hostage?  The Amish community states that they have forgiven him and they have even set up a fund for his family - an amazing act of grace in the face of such an unbelievable tragedy.  I suppose they find solace in the fact that he didn't have time to molest the girls - fortunately the teacher was able to escape and run to a nearby farm that thankfully had a telephone.  It all seems so pointless and horrifying - driving home the fact that children aren't safe in their schools, even when the children are sheltered from society and pop culture, even when the schools are little, rural Amish schoolhouses.  The scariest thing to me is that there are human beings out there in this world who are so dark and twisted that they can't see the beauty and hope in the face of a child...that some urge to be perverse and hateful is stronger even than the peace that pervades the Amish community in Lancaster County.  It makes me feel like we are all so incredibly vulnerable.

I want a GMC Yukon Denali.  Black?  Eh, everyone gets black.  But I'd feel like such a rap star!  But everyone wants to feel like a rap star.  And black is hard to keep clean.  Navy?  Navy's kinda classy.  Red?  It's not a bright red so I don't think it looks cheesy on a truck.  Bright red is for sports cars.  But the GMC red is kinda hot.  Not white.  I'm tired of white.  *sigh*  I just can't decide on a color.  That is exactly what prevents me from driving home in a brand new one.  Nevermind the fact that it would mean a practical 2nd mortgage.    I'm such a gearhead.

While I don't ever recall seeing it at a carnival (the prizes I remember were feathered roach clips and Motley Crue mirrors), I've always admired carnival glass.  My grandmother had a few pretty pieces and my mom was notorious for dragging me around to various estate sales and antique shops when I would have much rather been watching MTV.  My mother tried to lend her appreciation for shaker style furnishings, but I was always drawn to the gaudiest trinkets in the store; God bless it if it were multi-colored and opalescent.  My mother could never decide if my grandmother (paternal, btw) had something genetic to do with my dramatic flair or if I had just inherited the Hon-ness of our native town.  I'm sure she wanted to blame it on my father's side.

I've since inherited my grandmother's collection of carnival glass and have added a few pieces here and there.  I also collect Avon Cape Cod glass and whatever else strikes my tacky fancy.  I packed it all away a few months ago in an effort to de-clutter our house, but I swear if this place doesn't sell soon, I might have to dig around in the mountain of boxes in the basement in order to get a shiny object fix.  Either that or I'll be sweating the credit card at the antique stores. 

So you know what tonight is, right?  (I know someone who's reading this is jumping up and down saying "Supernatural!  Supernatural!";) Tonight though, is Grey's Anatomy... Season 3, episode 2.  If you're reading this because you're a fan of the show - I hope you're not missing out on Grey Matter, a blog written by the writer of each week's episode.  It's pretty entertaining, explains a lot about the characters' perspectives and makes you realize how involved creator Shonda Rhimes is in the evolution of the show.  Because she explains it as "the characters doing what they're going to do, whether I want it to happen or not", I forgive some of the stuff that's left me exasperated.  It's interesting, anyway.

 If you're reading this and you're my husband though, probably don't go read Grey Matter because I'm sure you'll gnash your teeth until they bleed at the explanations and reasoning behind Meredith's behavior and think that the whole idea is pretentious and cutesy and all that.  K, so if you're not married to me - hop over to Grey Matter and read what Shonda has to say about how long she's going to wait until the McDreamy/Finn situation is resolved.

So far, the soon to be eight year old wants the following for his birthday:

1. Nintendo DS

2. With Mario 3-on-3

3. It might come with Mario 3-on-3 so I want Pokeman:Blah Blah Version 67 if it does

4. Ben 10 toys

5. tickets to a Ravens' game with Dad

6. tickets to the Brad Paisley concert with Mom

7. a Ravens' jersey - Haloti Nata.  No, Steve McNair.  Both?

8. Avatar toys

8. Curious George on DVD

9. a new bike, but Grandma said she'd buy that so nevermind

**********************************************

He still has about a month to hone the list to perfection.  I suspect whatever (7 things) doesn't end up being purchased will be the thing(s) that he positively can't live without.  Yes sir, that's my baby. :)

And dag...if you're gonna be exasperated about my reviewing television (gasp!) shows when I could be cleaning litter from the streets or bottlefeeding abandoned baby stingrays, you probably don't want to continue reading.  I am addicted to certain television shows, indeed.  I really do spend a fair amount of time considering the plight of Meredith Grey.  I also feed my kids and water my plants, so don't worry too much. 

So, here we are at Season 3 of Desperate Housewives.  This show had a glorious first season and was followed up with a universally panned season two.  The addition of the lovely Alfre Woodard proved boring and it sucked that they killed Rex VanDeKamp and had Bree hook up with crazy George and then that weird sex addict guy.  Right when we found out that Rex was a bit of an S&M fiend, he was gone and poor Bree was relegated to people even weirder than he.  So...how does Desperate inject some life into this new, make it or break it season?  Why...by giving Bree a *new* whack-job lover!  Hooray - I would have never seen it coming.  Pfft.  At least it's Kyle MacLachlan and he's fabulous if only for his former credits on Sex and the City and oh, it pains me to type it...Twin Peaks.  But could we possibly have another type of storyline for our adored, insane redhead?  I want to see her crazy son Andrew come back and wreak more havoc - there's certainly more life in that story.  And I'm sure her daughter is duly traumatized after finding out last season's puppy love was a murderer.  Let poor Bree rest on the sex/love front - it's so obvious that she doesn't enjoy it anyway.

I guess I'm ok with Mike having been in a coma for six months.  As long as he wakes up next week. 

I'm definitely not ok with the reduction of Carlos scenes!  I say if the Solises must divorce, let Carlos have the house, baby and Housewife status.  We won't mind at all if Gabby just mails a check from Madrid every now and then.

I'll be glad when Lynette finally gives Tom's ex-lover a piece of her mind in a big way.  Y'all know that's coming!  Tom is sooo non-confrontational.  That's a good storyline and about the only one that has me wondering what's going to happen. 

Hoping this season gets juicier!  I want to see what has become of Zack now that Paul's in prison.  Will he come back for Julie?  I seriously think I should be writing this show in order to satisfy my viewing needs...haha.

Oh, woe to the mother whose child possesses a Doodle Enemy.  Last year it was Doodle Bears for the girls' birthday and I thought once those markers were lost (read: thrown away), we were finished with the endless tattooing and subsequent laundering of these stuffed creatures.  At Christmas, the boy child had a Doodle Monster on the brain, but fortunately I couldn't find one anywhere (seriously!) and we averted another encounter with the insolent creatures.  He forgot about wanting one.  Last week was another twin birthday and lo, unsuspecting as I was...these "gifts", they hailed from the sister-in-law whose two year old might now be getting a DRUM SET FOR CHRISTMAS - the wee little twins plucked DOODLE GIRLS from matching gift bags.  Gah!  I've washed them four times in as many days.  Because I *needed* more laundry.  What the heck kind of toy is that anyway?  I protest.

The season opener of Grey's was a little disappointing, I gotta admit.  Maybe because I spent the entire summer thinking, Yeah...I'm having fun ripping down this wallpaper, or better...standing in line at the amusement park but I really can't wait until fall to see what Meredith is going to do to get herself right with this McDreamy sex situation.  And Izzy! Poor Denny!  And Cristina! Poor Burke!  I mean, I was really ultra-excited about this show starting back up. 

It starts with Meredith being whiny that her friends elect her to go pry Izzy from the bathroom floor.  She's President of the Crappy Lives club...whaaa.  Good stuff, with her cooking because "that's what you do when people die".  Cristina talks about the Jewish tradition of shiva, even though Izzy is Catholic and later makes the parallel that you don't have sex, shave or.. wear clean clothes.  Since Izzy is still on the bathroom floor in her prom gown and all.  OK...still good stuff.  Very Grey's and I'm excited.  So. excited.

Then everything gets all convoluted and crazy... which is Greys-y in it's own regard but HELLO?  Season opener?  This is not what I want from you!  I want answers to last year's questions and leaving McDreamy quarantined in a locker room with George because there's a plague at the hospital while at the same time there is a premature baby of questionable teenage parentage found stuffed in a school trashcan and at the same time, the chief's wife (who should still be at least a little touched over the prom he threw for their niece in the last episode) is threatening to leave him if he doesn't retire, just isn't giving me what I want.  This isn't really the time to mess with a woman who spent a month brushing her teeth in the kitchen while the bathroom was under construction.  I just wasn't caring whose baby it was, whether Omar's wife died from the plague (the plague?! SERIOUSLY?) and whether the chief got tossed out on his ass.  There was just too much information.  Which made all of the information seem rushed and not given proper time and attention.  I mean, we (the viewers) marinated that McDreamy/McVet dilemma all summer long.  We thought about Burke's trembling hand.  We couldn't forget Alex holding Izzy.  Holding her!  Give us more than just a bit of what we fancy.  Slow down on the over the top medical situations - it's entertaining stuff, sure...but how much of it needs to be thrust in one episode?  The one episode that we awaited with such McBreathy anticipation.

Best part of the show was Addison pinning those panties to the bulletin board.  I hope we get at least 10 minutes of play out of that maneuver next week.  Then, I'll be sated. 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNjLUPqckWY]

It just goes to show ya that I missed my calling as a record company executive!  I *knew* that Lukas would win this season's Rockstar - I just knew it.  He gets plenty of crap on the Internet for being too gothy or too growly or too Canadian or whatever, but as frontmen go...he's top notch.  He has that whole Mick Jagger swagger (hee) going on and I think at least Tommy Lee had decided on him from show one. 

This was the first year that I watched Rockstar.  I've heard from plenty of fans who watched last season that this year's competition was lame in comparison to the INXS year, in that the band wasn't as proactive in their constructive criticism of the rockers.  I'll agree that the Supernova guys (save Gilby, who tried to be serious, at least) weren't the most consistent or necessarily...intelligent.  I thought the blatant sexism was tiresome, but I don't guess I was as offended as some - I mean, I know what I'm signing up for when I'm watching Tommy Lee on tv!  In all though, I enjoyed the season and I think the best contestant won.  So rare to feel that way at the end of a reality season.

If this show isn't the guiltiest of pleasures, I just don't know what is.  Combining my love of old school metal dudes (hellooo Gilby, Tommy..) and reality elimination television is exactly what the doctor (and that would be the doctor on hiatus from Grey's Anatomy all summer long - grr) ordered.  While ya gotta love summer for all its' pleasures, I sure do miss original programming.  No matter the weather, the kids go to bed at some point and I'm pretty much trapped in the house wishing I had something to watch.  It's much appreciated that broadcasters finally picked up on the summer market and gave me something in which to indulge.

Last night's Rockstar was interesting.  They're finally weeding through some of the laughable contestants (uh, all the women besides Dilana) and inspiring some worthy performances.  Ryan's eye makeup was a little over the top for me (channeling Boy Wonder? lol) and I could have done without the bullhorn from Toby, because it really was kinda cheesy, but most of the guys turned in really rockin' performances.  Josh is the only one who is a standout for elimination.  Magni and Lukas are pretty consistently great. 

If they end up keeping Zayra for her Planet Pluto factor, I think Jill or Patrice will go tonight.  Preferably Patrice, just for the ponytail mohawk alone. 

You know you have four minutes to spare.  It's obvious that I spend too much time on YouTube, now isn't it?

WATCH IT!

Justin's Sexyback to Britney's Slave 4 U video

It's just incredible how much she's changed.  I forgot how hawt that video was.

This won't be a comprehensive list.  I'll probably be adding to it over the next 30 years or so.  I mean, who doesn't wax nostalgic about the heroin! and syphillis!?

But, seriously.

Last weekend, we took the kids to Bengie's drive-in theater.  Garfield II and Pirates of the Caribbean II for $12 plus concessions.  I've maybe been to the theater three times in my life, but I'll miss the idea of Bengie's - it's so Baltimore.  I expected to see Ricki Lake and John Waters come dancing out of the authentic snack bar.  We've scouted out the drive-in nearby our intended South Carolinian destination and it's sufficient.  But I do love my Hairspray vibes in this town.

This past Monday night I was at my new job, a casual dining place near the airport.  Steve McNair walked in.  He's the Ravens' new starting quarterback and I immediately recognized him and ran to the bathroom to call my husband on my cell phone.  I was so excited that Doug could barely understand me.  I contained myself for the next hour but before McNair left, had the opportunity to babble about my fangirl status and how frickin' excited I was that he was in Baltimore giving us another go at the big one, baybeee.  Click the cellphone picture, get an autograph for the 7 year old.  I will miss professional football in my backyard.   I will miss player sightings and getting that damn excited.  I will NOT miss the airport. 

Tomorrow I'm taking the kids to Six Flags.  BY MYSELF.  Well, with my sister-in-law and her kids; but without he who contributed to the procreation effort and is thereby responsible as well for maintaining the whereabouts and safety of the three munchkins I adore but who are all far too independent and wanderlusty than I prefer in the amusement park setting.  I bet Six Flags doesn't make the *sniff* I'll miss you list...

Hey guys!  I got a job.  But that's beside the point.  I finally went to see The Devil Wears Prada.  I've been wanting to see it all summer and had really planned to stage an opening night declaration of "Even if I go by myself!" but we were wallpapering or tiling or something like that and I just didn't get around to doing it until the other night.  Doug practically threw me out of the house because I was being hormonal or some other form of mean.  "GO SEE A MOVIE. STOP MAKING THAT FACE." 

Meryl Streep is brilliant.  Always.  When my house is sold and I have moved into my lovely new abode that requires no immediate heavy labor (it's a prerequisite), and I have unpacked and spent enough time admiring my dazzling new furniture *and* what's left in my bank account,  I intend to have a Meryl Streep marathon.  We'll have a Meryl month of movies.  As The Devil, she reminded me so much of my mother (who was in fact an angel....ooh, it's irony!) with her chic silver bob.  Her delivery was perfect and the Miranda Priestly character was a hoot. 

The same can't be said for Anne Hathaway's "Andie".  Ugh.  Of course she was a journalist with heart.  Of course she got caught up in the fashion of it all when she stumbled upon the coveted 2nd assistant to Miranda job.  Of course she realized she wasn't being true to herself after Adrian Grenier dumped her and she had a one-nighter with Simon Baker (hellooo Simon Baker).  Am I the only woman alive who finds Adrian Grenier a little creepy? 

Like he borders on Billy Zane hotness but the lips are a little too girly?  His character was fairly loathsome in Prada. 

Simon Baker played a real bastard who was also a bit too predictable.  He did manage to wear a scarf through most of the movie and not look like a drag queen, so something must be said for his charisma and manliness.

In all, the movie could have been better.  The ending was wrapped up too prettily and I was able to predict what goody 2-shoes Hathaway was going to do before she even knew she was going to do it.  It was worth seeing for the clothes and the sunglasses and the bags and Stanley Tucci.  And for glorious Meryl. 

So, in the midst of all manner of headache surrounding all manner of "GOD, I QUIT MY JOB" drama, my dear husband makes a trip to Blockbuster (we gave up Netflix but we are so weak & reliant on the appeal of rent-able video games) and returns with Herbie: Fully Loaded for mine and the childrens' viewing pleasure.  "Are you gonna watch it with us?"  I ask, knowingly.  "Naaahh.  You're the one with the crush on Lindsay Lohan."  He didn't really say that.  But he really didn't watch the movie, either.  So because I really do secretly wholeheartedly adore Lindsay Lohan...and because hello, I have no job and can lounge about on the couch cuddling kids on a Saturday night, even...I watched Herbie: Fully Loaded, fully anticipating being disgusted by the ruination of another childhood television show or movie being converted to new movie that I hate because every character is stupefied and sleazified in a way that didn't happen on television in 1978.  If you're lost, think Jessica Simpson as Daisy Duke.  Daisy was a practical icon of my youth - I had much love for her that had nothing to do with her shorts.  She was smart and cunning, forever running distraction for her cousins with Boss Hogg.  Jessica Simpson couldn't distract Flash.

  I should have known not to dismiss Lindsay so readily (and trust that it was Disney...but they're borderline with me anymore, anyway)- Herbie was actually really cute.  With plot!  And a scene at the crash derby where his crinkled up lil' Volkswagen hood made me weep!  Lindsay's character was tomboy-ish and decent...a college graduate who pushed the boy's hand off her shoulder and smiled about it... Hey teenage girls - it's ok to do that! It was feel-good and well-acted (Hello Michael Keaton as Nascar dad) with appearances by multiple Nascar drivers if they get ya goin'. ;)  My daughters lost interest until the car started flirting with a new Bug... "Does that car love that other car?  Do cars get married?" (lol) but that's pretty much anything with 'real people' so far.  The almost 8 year old and I gave it 2 hearty thumbs up!

Well...it's been a long time coming.  I've been working as a waitress in a local restaurant for two years after a brief stint at college, a short-lived career as a cable marketing guru and a couple lonely, fairly psychotic years as a stay at home mom.  I loved the idea of stay at home momming, but the practical application was the tough part.  You mean...no adult conversation, all day?  Apart from my husband, who by 5:15pm was glazing over at the scintillating discussion about which twin seemed constipated?  Waitressing was a natural part-timer...I'd done it before and wow..you can make lotsa money if you have anything more than the personality God granted a raccoon.  I loved it long time and I'm not completely convinced that I don't want to keep on loving it (wow...a life without tips seems so devoid of...tips! lol) but my relationship with the particular restaurant went so far south over the past few weeks that it was clearly impossible not to quit.  Without getting into all the gory details (almost as scintillating as constipation, let me tell ya), it was made clear that people other than management were pulling strings and running the show.  People who decidedly stopped liking *me* and the way that I performed my job.  What, without yelling and screeching?  Without strong-arming the stronger waitstaff into picking up the slack of crackheads who'd been hired last week?  Pfft.  Yeah...so.  I'm unemployed.  Packing up more stuff in anticipation of the big move.  Scrubbing walls and floors.  Sorting clothes and cooking dinner.  And waiting on call-backs from other restaurants.  Because truly... the focus on constipation gets to be a little much for me.   

and that is just not the news that I was expecting when I woke up this morning, with a full day of wallpaper removal ahead of me.

Supposedly, while filming the movie "Pride and Glory", he fell in love with co-star Lake Bell.  Recently,  Colin's begun wearing a band on his left hand sparking rumors of a secret wedding. 

I guess she's pretty.  Kinda.  I'm invested in this only because I spent 2004 with Colin as my movie star lovah.  I'm not convinced that this chick is an adequate replacement.  She's been on Boston Legal and The Practice. Rehab has possibly clouded his judgment.  

so that my blog doesn't dry up like a neglected hanging basket of petunias. 

 Which is what I've been watering this week while my in-laws are on vacation.  Well...baskets of petunias that are neither dried up or neglected... my mother-in-law is quite the potted flower fancier and she waters them daily and makes sure they know how much she appreciates their presence on her front porch.  There must be 20 pots and it turns out that its quite a chore to fill and carry the watering can, especially with my carpal tunnel wrist made inflamed by continuous painting, packing and the respite that I have from all of it - waitressing.  Then there's the issue of school being out for summer and the nieces being here this week and wow...I'm in need of a raspberry Cosmopolitan just thinking of it all again.  Speaking of raspberry Cosmopolitans - what Bill Bateman's lacks in food quality, they make up for in Cosmo quality... we wild and crazy waitresses had a quick little after work rendezvous last night. Yum.

  The house is coming along with little leaps and tiny bounds...we're a little worried that we won't make our self-imposed July 1 deadline for putting it on the market.  And we're a little worried about how long it will take to sell.  Well, I'm worried.  The mister rarely worries about that which is non-apocalyptic.  But yeah...that's what's been going on while I'm not blogging.  I'll be back again to hang out and indulge in Internet mayhem before the petunias start to get all straggly.. I hope.

and of course, we're too dumb to take control of our own diets, so the mighty government is going to step in and help us out.  A government commissioned report funded by the Food and Drug Administration lays out ways to help people manage their intake of calories from the growing number of meals prepared away from home, including at the nation's nearly 900,000 restaurants and other establishments that serve food. Limited portion sizes (which I'm sure won't correlate with lower menu prices) and the availability of caloric information should be available.  I laughed out loud when the article seriously states that "consumers have no way of knowing how many calories are in a prepared entree".  Uh.  If you're ordering a 1/2 pound hamburger and a picnic basket of french fries, how many calories do you *think* are in it?  Smaller portions?  If I pay $15 for a plate of linguine with clam sauce, I'd like a large portion, please.  I'll likely take half of it home and have it for lunch the next day.  People should be able to make these decisions for themselves...not have the FDA govern our restaurants too.  If we overeat, isn't it our responsibility?  We need to spend more time in the produce section of the grocery store (hey government! Wanna help?  Help make nutritional choices less expensive than processed food!) than we do in the McDonald's drive-thru.  We need a society that doesn't necessitate two working parents in order to pay the bills so that someone can be home at a decent hour to roast a chicken and peel potatoes.  But I guess it's easier to stick their nose into how much linguine I'm allowed for 15 bucks.

While on the Internets, I play up my Baltimore hon heritage (heroin! and syphillis!), in real life I do try to maintain some modicum of decency.  My hair is insanely red but is cut in acceptable soccer mom style, I wear New Balance sneakers and garden voraciously.  I try to meet the standards of mommy and bring good snacks to the baseball games when it's my turn. However... sometimes you can take the hon out of the city...but the city stays in the hon. 

Today was the last day of school and we took our kids out for a nice dinner.  I wore jeans and a nice shirt...we visited my husband's parents for a few minutes afterward and came home to resume our (neverending) home fix-up quest. I changed into a pair of ratty ol' shorts and a t-shirt so we could paint, paint and hey...paint some more.   Before long, I realized we needed some more little paint pad thingies for trimming and a Wal-Mart run was in order.  I volunteered (hey...he was gonna do kiddie bedtime!) and figured...ya know what? I see women in Wal-Mart wearing rollers and bedroom slippers - I'm not gonna bother with changing.  Off I went.

Stepped out of the car in the vast parking lot and started walking... then started feeling some tickling on the back of my leg.  Hmm.. Oh no.  Could it be? I totally had my shorts on BACKWARDS and the drawstring was skimming against the back of my thigh as I walked.  Heck with it - I ventured on.  I mean, I did at least stop to tuck the strings in.

Recounting the tale to my husband as we stood in the backyard making sure the crazy dog didn't escape on her late night run, he said, "That's so trailer, baby."  Yep.  So much for Cartier bracelets, huh?

Marketers hope to capitalize on the date 6-6-06

How lovely of Man, er...Ann Coulter, Republican blowhard,  to get in on the marketing extravaganza that will take place on Tuesday, 6-6-06.  I think she has a twin in my Surreal Life friend, Alexis Arquette, lol.

An uncanny resemblance, eh?

So Man, er Ann is releasing her book on the devil date as a tribute to liberals, she claims.  How thoughtful! She's a tool. Others releasing material on that date include the Satanic rock groups Slayer and Deicide.  Oh, and a little movie called the Omen releases that day.  But we expect that from them.  

Barbie Wonderland!

It's been a while since I looked at the boxes stacked at the top of my closet - last night I took them down to pack them up in four enormous moving boxes and was a little surprised at how many collectible Barbie dolls I've actually amassed in my collection.  When my mom was still living, I always received the new Holiday Barbie for Christmas...I think I have 1988 - 2000.  She bought me a bunch of the International dolls, Avon seasonals, Royal collectibles... maybe she was more of the Barbie girl, come to think of it. ;)

Barbie was always my favorite toy.  Of course, none of the dolls that I ever took out of the box ever maintained any degree of collectible integrity - they'd often end up with mohawks, tattoo work or having endured the pain of my brother's GI Joes...those creeps produced many a Barbie casualty courtesy of their firecrackers. 

I've heard all the discussions about Barbie being a rotten influence on little girls...she with the bustline so exaggerated that if the proportions were given to a real human, that girl would surely topple over from the weight of those breasts. Mattel has since remodeled Barbie's figure, toning down her...assets, but even with the exaggerated body, I don't think I was ever negatively impacted by Barbie.  Heck, she drove a Corvette, had a dream house, yachts, horses, was an Olympian, a teacher, ran for the Presidency, became an astronaut... I thought she was a pretty happening chick!  When I walk through the doll aisles now, Barbie still has some presence, but I think more little girls are drawn to Bratz and their counterparts (I think Mattel's answer to Bratz are called My Scene dolls).  Unfortunately, there's no question as to whether those are negative influences... they're teenagers in hipster jeans, halter tops and platform shoes with sleazy eyeliner and collagen lips.  Noooo,  thank you.  When my daughters get to an age where dolls are the toy of choice (we're still on puppies! and kitties!), I'll be happy to buy Mermaid Barbie because at least  her blue hair isn't accompanied by a nose ring.  And one day, they can have the boxes of collectibles that I've accumulated and wonder how on earth the poor thing endures her back pain without even the relief of a decent support bra.

Really, I'm not terribly obsessed with Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie (well, maybe her just a wee bit).  I don't mean for this to be a Brangelina (ugh) centric blog, but I have to make a prediction here.  Recently, the African nation of Namibia went to great lengths to ensure the privacy and safety of Brad and Angelina's family while she was in the final weeks of pregnancy.  They even denied the visas of journalists who did not have the express written permission of the parents-to-be.  Armed security guards, huge blockades on the beaches... I think the Namibian government probably didn't even realize how smart they were being in doing so, because not only did Brad and Angelina donate $300,000 to Namibian children, they certainly have paved the way for other celebrities to adapt the accomodating country for their own birth retreats.  I think Britney will be next, y'all. The Namibian government would probably even be generous enough to keep Kevin Federline off the continent.

Actor Jeffrey Dean Morgan has been hired to appear as a regular in Shonda Rhimes' (creator of Grey's Anatomy) new ABC project about a group of female journalists.  Long live Denny Duquette and his raspy drawl - rrrowl.

Said U2 singer Bono “He was more than wise. In a garden full of weeds - the oak tree.”

I'd heard plenty of Johnny Cash music while growing up, but for some reason had never discovered the recordings he made in the 1990's after signing with Rick Rubin and American Records. I recently got the CD The Legend of Johnny Cash and was really surprised to hear his version of Soundgarden's Rusty Cage. It's awesome!  I was definitely listening to Soundgarden at that time (1996, I believe), so I was sorry to realize that I'd spent 10 years without hearing Cash's version.  How much more enriched would the past decade of my life have been??  Another song, The Wanderer, was recorded with U2 and is absolutely spine-chilling. I've played it four times this morning.

Now that Walk the Line  is safely past trendiness (and I can pull off being more than a hysterical Joaquin groupie), I'm think I'm gonna scan ebay for a CASH t-shirt.

LOL! If Supergroup (VH1) isn't the funniest thing on television... you probably weren't raised in the 70's or 80's.  Or your mama was smart enough to keep you away from rock music.  I grew up in the heyday of hair metal and my greatest obsession was Sebastian Bach, FORMERLY (he makes that very clear) of Skid Row.  Last night's Supergroup was as hysterical as the first, with the band meeting a wardrobe consultant (Ted Nugent *might* wash his hair, but dye it? comb it? nuh-uh) and trying to go out for a nice dinner in Las Vegas.  Favorite line of the night... Sebastian: "Will you just let me ROCK?"

One time (at band camp), a friend and I went to a small nightclub to see Sebastian perform as a solo artist.  His band was extremely....theatrical, nothing at all like Skid Row.  We were a little surprised.  Sebastian came on wearing a silver jacket and some kind of wing like...things on his back, lol - I don't even really know how to describe it.  I think he was going through some kind of adjustment period.  He's done some theater and doesn't seem to be experiencing the same career death as most of the formerly glorious (hee) hair metal dudes.  Can't wait 'til next week - gotta love a show that substitutes for Sunday night shock in the absence of Grey's and Desperate.

The Return of the Love Bracelet

I'd never heard of the Cartier Love bracelet until reading about it in this month's Interview.  The original bracelet was introduced in 1969 and marketed with a brilliant celebration at Cartier's New York boutique that included celebrity couples Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, among others.  The bracelets are worn tightly on the wrist and can only be removed by an accompanying screwdriver (that can be held by the giver of the bracelet). I want one. This year, Cartier is reintroducing the Love line and will market over 30 pieces including rings, earrings and pendants.

Let's take the opportunity to discuss Brad Pitt and his finest role EVER as Louis in Interview With the Vampire. *le sigh* (the extent of my discussion, lol) After Risky Business and Top Gun, this movie is possibly the only place where I've ever been able to stomach Tom Cruise. Kirsten Dunst was remarkable, especially considering her age. Her character inspired the name that should be mine, had my parents named me properly. In my next life, I should definitely be a Claudia.  I have loved Anne Rice since middle school (naturally - isn't that when everyone develops their Anne Rice love?) and I was with her when she pfft'd Tom Cruise's portrayal of Lestat. I was also with her when she ate crow. I dunno if she lusted after Brad as Louis, but if she did...I was really with her. Heh. I had the Interview poster hanging in my office for years - I wonder if I still have it somewhere.  I guess that's enough to inspire me to move from the computer chair and get back to clearing stuff out in my house... I'm just looking for my vampire poster, yeah.

Shiloh Nouvel isn't as weird a name as I thought

I'm *really* not trying to be blasphemous with my picture of Jesus there, but wow...you'd think this kid was the second coming for all the attention she's garnered.  I wouldn't have even blogged about it, but I figure it must be some rule of the Internet, to mention this child's arrival.  I sure do hope she lives up to the cuteness expectations. 

Congrats to Angelina and Brad.... three kids is no walk in the park, I can tell ya.

but my alien green clogs do make some a little suspicious... It's been a wild week in the house of Fries With Gravy.  We're moving this summer and I dunno if you've ever moved, but I'm starting to think that I don't recommend it.  Too much work.  Yesterday and today were "Spruce Up the Yard!" days and I do enjoy a spruced up yard, but the pinchy feeling in my lower back suggests that it's the actual business of sprucing that I don't like all that much. 

I will highly recommend to anyone who gets in the dirt the above pictured clogs.  You can purchase the Croc brand here.  You can also buy knockoffs at Payless for about $15.00.  They are comfy and breathable and they spray off with the hose.  Three cheers for anything that sprays off with the hose.  It may be why my dog and kids are so dear to my heart.

I'll be back around more as time and my grueling home preparation projects permit.  You may get blog posts about paint...satin vs. semi gloss.  I know you can't wait. ;)

Another season finale tonight - I'm feeling a bit like I'm being abandoned by my favorite tv shows...*sniff*.  Desperate Housewives wraps up Season II with Bree checking into a mental institution, Lynette leaving Tom because she's discovered that he's cheating, Susan's house in ruins and...sheesh, what else? 

Desperate lost me a little bit this year - last year seemed a lot more focused on the Mary Alice mystery and that brought a cohesiveness to the other dramas on Wisteria Lane.  This year, with the introduction of the Applewhite family, Bree's alcoholism, Lynette's job and Susan's affairs away from Mike...the cast just all felt very separated from one another.  Gabby and Carlos' baby dilemma was interesting, until the cute lil' thing got taken away in a dramatic, but apparently not too traumatic way.  Not too traumatic I say because they were readily replacing her with a surrogate mother sponsored baby by the next week! I'm still interested and entertained though - and I can't wait to see what that crazy Andrew has up his sleeve - I'm sure we haven't seen the last of him.  Only 50 more minutes...guess I better go get the kiddies in bed.

The Desperate Blog is an amazing place to keep up with all media about the cast of the show. It's photo intensive so expect a little bit of a load time!

Dog and Beth Captured!

Dog and Beth: Captured! was the inscription on the dog tag favors passed out to guests at the wedding. You don't know how I adore these people, lol. Dog wore white jeans! And a vest!

  Sadly, the wedding was a day after one of Dog's daughters was struck by a car and died in Alaska. According the the Yahoo! article, they decided to proceed in order to celebrate her life.  The episode of Dog that will include the wedding airs on August 8th, 2006.

Though I'm not a big fan of animal racing (*sniff*, I still miss my retired Greyhound), it's hard to ignore the excitement in the Maryland air at Preakness time (6:14pm tonight, baybee). On the way to the baseball field at 9:00 this morning, the radio DJ's were already on the infield, Black Eyed Susans in hand. Speaking of Black Eyed Susans, didja know that the blanket of flowers used to adorn the horse that wins is made of painted daisies since the Maryland state flower isn't blooming in May?

Preakness is a big party, but unfortunately it's the only party at the Maryland tracks anymore. Most of them are closed or in disrepair because they aren't generating much income. It's a shame that Maryland doesn't do more to support its legendary horse racing industry. Our poor Gov Ehrlich (Moe) wants to put slot machines at th