Not Quite Godzilla...

But this morning I happened to look up at the kitchen window in time to see the tops of several bamboos marching past the house. So I grabbed my camera and ran out the door to come upon this:

What he said: "This is hard."

You have to admit his method for moving them is pretty smart.

And yes, he's the only intelligent person I have ever met who is deliberately planting bamboo near the house. He's digging it out of the woods next to our driveway. However, we live next door (on the other side) to the county's ugliest single wide trailer that has entire sections of siding missing, and over the years more and more junk and trash has collected in their yard and in front of their house than can be a good idea. It drives Rich bugshit because he works so hard to keep our yard and property nice. So one day last summer it occurred to him that bamboo spreads fairly rapidly and will soon choke an area completely. And there was a free supply of mature trees in the woods that just required digging. So there you have it.

Just cross your fingers that he doesn't give himself a stroke doing this in this heat today.

Merit Badges

<------- Varicose Vein- Grown July, 2006

For some reason none of this is really bothering me. At least not in an esthetic sort of way. The varicose vein freaked me out at first because of the threat of blood clots and poor circulation etc... But I realized that being a pack a day smoker actually put me at more risk for those anyway, so STFU, you know?

Anyway, when I was in my youth I was famous for my legs. To toot my own horn, I was rocking some serious gams. Know what though? The cause of that giant ripple of blue on my leg was just holding my palm to her face saying, "I love you more." So fuck it. It's a leg.

When I was very pregnant with Livvie, my doctor was measuring my belly and he said to me, "You don't have any stretch marks." That's the big secret that the cosmetic industry doesn't want you to know. You either get them, or you don't. I didn't apply any cocoa butter. I did nothing. I got no scarring. That's not to say I hadn't acquired any in my life. I grew so fast as a child that my thighs are covered with strands of scars encircling them like the rings of a tree. You don't see them in the winter, but when my legs tan in the summer, boom, there they are. When I was 25 I finally "filled out," and my hips spread. Ta da. Have some giant scars on your hips to mark that rite of passage as well.

The other night I got out of the shower and was toweling off. I glanced up at the mirror and noticed a splash of purple on the underside of my belly. Granted, it wasn't a very large splash, but it was there. I used my fingers to pull the skin up, and there they were:

I had a brief moment of shock. Then I started grinning. I ran to Rich and said, "Look look!" and showed them to him. He thought I was silly, but he humored me anyway.

I don't know what it is. Maybe it's almost like acquiring a new tattoo to mark a specific event in your life. For the rest of my life when I look down and happen to catch a glance at these marks I'll be reminded of carrying these children. It's incredibly cool to me that each put their own stamp on the process so there will be no confusion.

Wish me luck in the coming days. Jonas is almost here. I'll be sure to toss some pics up for you.

gigglesnort

<--------- NmG

We were behind one of these on the way to the grocery store this afternoon.

It was purple.

It looked like it was held together with rivets.

The turn signals worked.

When it made a right turn we waited for it to tip over, but it remained upright.

It pulled into the parking lot at Home Depot. I assume they were buying one screw. Or something. It has no trunk.

It was seriously one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

Here's some info on it from Myers Motors:

Myers Motors has just delivered the nation’s first all-electric (110 volt outlet charging), highway speed (76 mph), lithium battery powered, sub-$30,000 vehicle. This new battery system, electronically managed by a system developed in conjunction with Akron University for MM’s prospective entry into the Progressive Insurance Automotive X PRIZE, is the next step towards realizing the dream of electric vehicles: inexpensive travel that avoids the geo-political and environmental ravages inherent in America’s total dependence upon oil for its transportation needs.

If I had $30k lying around I would totally get one for Rich to drive to work.

LMFAO

I was raised to believe that the American League is evil and the Yankees specifically are Satan's team.

So pardon my hilarity over this. THIS is fucking beeyootiful. I think this might be one of the best things I've ever seen.

If you can see that, it says that in the 2nd inning the Indians (The Indians!!!!) scored 14 runs.

Oh Happy Day.

I wish I were physically capable of skipping right now.

The End of Another Era

Harry Kalas was the voice of the Phillies since the year I was born, 1971.

When I moved down here to NC I literally could not watch Phillies games on TBS or ESPN because the broadcasters didn't sound right. Harry's voice was so distinctive and wonderful, and he'd get so freaking excited. He was adored.

He had a heart attack today in one of the broadcast booths at the Washington Nationals' ball park. He died. He was 73.

I would really, really like to see how the team handles this tonight during their game. But since the game won't be broadcast, I guess I'll do some Googling tomorrow.

Safe Journey, Harry.

Happy Easter

Navy SEALS took out the pirates and freed the captain and it's a glorious day.

Here's some of my joy from today. I hope you all had some as well.

Easter Basket

Easter Outfit

The house in bloom

Watering the baby Cypress

One of the azalea stands

The Kid and her Dog

Today was my favorite Easter ever. If they could all be like today I might actually start enjoying it as a holiday. I have 4.5 weeks left of being pregnant if this takes the requisite 40 weeks. I am trying to pack as much Livvie time as I can into my world since fairly soon we will no longer have each other to ourselves. I'm a bit bummed about that. I guess we'll see what happens though.

My mood has improved greatly. Thanks everyone for caring. I'll try to be better at keeping you all updated on things.

Have a peaceful one.

List

Ever just want to walk outside and scream, "Leave me the fuck alone?"

Yeah, that's where I am.

I was on my daily morning phone call with my mother this morning, and she was irritating the fuck out of me to the point where I literally said, "You know, I'm in a really bad mood, and I don't feel like talking right now. I'm gonna go." and I hung up.

Of course, I've been awake since before 3 this morning. So that MIGHT have something to do with things, but it's been coming on for a few days now.

I am sick of being pregnant. I'm tired of the physical problems it's causing. I'm tired of feeling like an invalid.

I'm tired of laundry. ALWAYS fucking laundry. It never ends. Ever.

I'm tired of bending over backwards to try to find food my kid will eat and having her either try it once and snub it or snub it entirely. I wasn't like that. Ever. So I can't relate.

I'm tired of being broke.

I'm tired of people not listening to me fully and reacting based on what they think I said / am going to say.

I'm just fucking tired.

Good things: Livvie can now read the words CAT and DOG. I have to find some more 3 letter words to teach her that she might find interesting.

Her "preschool" classes start next Wednesday.

Rich still has a job for now.

That's about it.

Now what

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?

Where is the helm and the hauberk and the bright hair flowing?

Where is the hand on the harp-string, and the red fire glowing?

Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?

They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;

The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.

Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning?

Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

It's over. I started to become depressed. I went back on Lamictal 4 days ago.

Now I'm manic.

So the box of Lamictal is in the closet now, and I have no way to combat this.

I said very ugly things to Rich tonight.

This afternoon our kid yelled at us because we were raising our voices at each other. Awesome.

I'm lost.

Grief Causes Migraines

<------- Emma at my old apartment, Summer 2004

Back then Emma could still get on the sofa. Hell, back then Emma could vault my best friend's sofa from behind it with no running start.

It is a sad thing when an animal becomes elderly and senile. It's even sadder when that ends up causing low level resentment among those who live in the house. 

This past weekend Emma took a snap at Livvie. She made no contact, but she scared the daylights out of Livvie, who burst into hysterics. Things had been coming to a head for quite some time, so I made the call to the vet. My appointment was for this morning at 930.

On Tuesday afternoon while Livvie was working with her speech therapist she brushed Emma with her foot and Emma snapped at her again. 

A general vet estimate of Emma's age had her pegged at around 14 years old. That means she was 8 when I found her on the side of the road on April 1st, 2003. She's never been the nicest of dogs; she tried to kill the first vet tech she encountered, we always had to cross the street when other dogs were approaching, she bit me, she snapped at my cousin's daughter's face, she DID bite the face of the son of one of my best friends, she attempted to bite Rich... but dammit, she was mine. When I lived on my own with her some things were just easy to work around. You know? Manage the situation. I learned to manage my situation with Emma quite well.

Regardless of how crotchety she was, she was huge into snuggling. This is why it really upset me that her failing mind and body basically deteriorated in time for Livvie to be born and become mobile. I would have loved to be able to snuggle with this dog while Livvie ran around and played, but Livvie has a tendency to launch herself at you when she wants attention, and that would have been begging for a bite. So the baby gate became a barrier between the two of them. I kept it open sometimes throughout the day if I was there and supervising, but if I left the room Livvie was in the living room and Emma was in the kitchen and that was that. Even when I was supervising I was a nervous wreck during the day, waiting for Livvie to accidentally trip over Emma and get bitten. They seemed to have an understanding of sorts, as Livvie really did her best to avoid Emma and gave her a wide berth, but shit happens, you know?

I learned to manage the house soiling issue to the point where Emma had not gone inside the house for over a month. And then the vacuum cleaner phobia developed. I vacuum, she shits. I managed that by taking her out on the deck and hooking her to the heavy metal table while I vacuumed, and then walking her afterward to let her poop. See? Easy.

The failing body though, could not be ignored.

I counted the other day. Her legs went out from under her over a dozen times. Despite chowing down as heartily as she always has, she was becoming painfully thin. In fact, this morning she weighed 28 pounds. 9 less than her standard weight, and 16 less than when I found her 6 years ago. I lifted her out of the back of the Ford this morning and she weighed nothing.

She walked into things in the dark. Like the cars. And she would get lost, on leash, coming back to the house.

And then Rich took her out to pee the other night and she fell down all 4 steps.

So yes, it was time. The vet told me not to feel guilty. She said it happens to everyone when there's no acute health crisis happening. Things will happen, but then there will be a good day or series of them, so the decision is postponed. She also informed me that in her opinion I absolutely had to put safety first. 

It doesn't make me feel like any less of an asshole though.

So it's unbelievably quiet here now. Apparently the constant falling and scrabbling throughout the days made quite a bit of noise. The whining at 345pm for dinner at 430 is no more. 

At 415 my vision started to go. The tunnel vision began and it was followed by the auras. I haven't had a migraine since last summer, but it was coming fast and furious. I called the doc and got permission to take my meds. There's no other reason that it could have happened.

So is it grief or guilt that causes migraines? I guess both.

Please send good thoughts to my beautiful, loving, grumpy girl that she'll enjoy the Summerlands. In her world she's the only dog. There are plenty of tuna sammiches to steal. The world is hands extended to pet her constantly. And there are no kids. Unless they're calm ones who like to pet.

I'd like to add though, on Tuesday for the very first time Livvie walked over to Emma and very gently stroked her down her back. She did it three times, looking to me for approval. Emma tensed but remained still the entire time.

Thank you for that Emma. As far as ending memories go, that's an important one for me to have.

Rest in peace gorgeous girl.

Feel the love...

Far more dynamic and entertaining:

But this is more pure:

Livvie was introduced to the Beach Boys today, specifically to I Get Around. We were driving home from the grocery store and it came on the radio. I immediately opened the window (it's 70 degrees today) and cranked the volume. I looked behind me and there sat my kid in her car seat, grinning from ear to ear, dancing in her seat.

Yeah, it makes me feel that way too.

I like the Beach Boys ok enough. They were pretty damned talented, and they're totally emblematic of the American Era during their time period. But that SONG. That song is perfection. I don't believe anything else they ever recorded can touch it.

Robert R. McCammon said it best:

I stopped. Just couldn't walk anymore. That music was unlike anything I'd ever heard: guys' voices, intertwining, breaking apart, merging again in fantastic, otherworldly harmony. The voices soared up and up like happy birds, and underneath the harmony was a driving drumbeat and a twanging, gritty guitar that made cold chills skitter up and down my sunburned back.  

And what that song did for me today was make me forget about our crappy economy for 2 minutes and 14 seconds. It made me think about eating water ice with a tiny wooden spoon on the front steps. It made me think about splurging on gas money and driving to the beach with my kid. I smelled Coppertone. I smelled seaweed and fish. I felt the Vitamin D of the sun penetrating my skin. 

And it reminded me to open the window and breathe fresh air.

Reason #9564 to have kids

I just taught Livvie how to hog call.

"Sooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! Pig pig pig!!!!"

Look out Letterman.

4.5 Years and I'm still not Countrified

The night before last I took Emma out back to potty in the dark. And when I say dark, I mean it is VERY dark out here in the land of no street lights.

So we're standing in the center of the yard and I'm waiting for her to pick a spot. 

Just as she starts to squat, a deer walks out of the woods and into the yard to our left.

That's right. There's a dog and an above average sized human female in the yard, and the deer walked IN.

So I squinted. Yep, there was a rack.

The deer took a few more steps forward.

I whispered, "Emma pee. Pee Emma. Go. Go go go. Done? Come on. PEE."

She finished peeing, and I hauled ass, calling over my shoulder, "We're leaving! Okay???"

I have TOTALLY seen this on TV. These things don't screw around.


Am I a pussy? Probably. But the first winter I was here I had walked Emma into the subdivision next door one night, and as we turned a curve we came up on a buck with a full rack. He looked at us for a second and then snorted. Loudly. One hoof scraped the ground. We ran.

October 1990 - February 2, 2006

Clancy Fitzpatrick

Da Ponies

<------ Barbaro May 6, 2006

Regardless of individual feelings on the subject, I grew up in a family that adored the ponies. My mom took me to my first race at Saratoga Race Track in NY when I was a kid. It was a confusing place, loads of smelly men all over the place yelling at each other, but the first time I heard that dozen or so horses pound past me I was completely hooked.

I don't have a habit. I don't subscribe to the Daily Racing Form. I don't suck down stats like crazy. And now that I'm in a thoroughbred free state I don't even have the opportunity to bet. 

Sometimes ESPN will show racing, but it's not the same on TV. Golly those horses look tiny on the track.

However, every late April I start doing research. The Kentucky Derby is the first Saturday in May. I patiently wait to read who is going to be there. And as much as I love the horses, I have a secret. I bet jockeys.

So I call my mom and tell her how much money I want on whom. The year Charismatic won was for some reason the year I bet the most, $20. I won over $300. That was exciting.

So when Prado won on Barbaro in 2006 it was wonderful. Great horse, one of my favorite jockeys, win win. Not that much money since the odds were for him, but for me it's more about the thrill of choosing correctly.

And then 2 weeks later on May 20th at the Preakness he shattered his leg. I actually went into hysterics. Rich was completely confused and sat there on the sofa not knowing how to handle me. I was sobbing over a horse I didn't even know about 4 weeks earlier, and it's not like I even knew the horse personally. I can see how it would be confusing.

They chose not to euthanize and instead sent him to one of the best equine hospitals in the country. They tried their best. Eight months later, however, it was time to let him go. He died on January 29th 2007.

I sobbed again.

Today, January 31st 2009, his little brother Nicanor is racing for the very first time at Gulfstream in Florida. They have both the same mom and dad. He's 3 years old. The hopes are high for him. Once again Prado will be riding. He'll be in the 8th race today, but I have no idea what time that will be. Not one TV station in my area is showing it. I'm sure it'll be on Youtube tonight. I hope he wins. Not for his owners, and not for his trainer. I hope for everyone who fell in love with his big brother that he does his brother proud.

Nicanor ----------->

Isn't he gorgeous? 

I do still love you

And I always will.

I spent agonizing moments thinking, "how did it come to this?" but I think I really know. And as much as it sucks, as unfair as that is, I can understand it.

I think even a year ago you would have waited to hear my side of things before acting. 

I think we both know what happened to change that.

And that's ok too. Although my willingness to trust has just had a pan of boiling water poured over it, I do think I understand what happened.

All I ever wanted for you was exactly what you want most. If that ever comes to pass I'm sure I'll hear it through the grapevine. And that will be one of the happiest days of my life.

At first I thought that all of the emotions I'd invested over the past three years since we "met" were wasted. But I know that's not true. Your influence has shaded my life. There are parts of you I will always carry with me. I thought I missed you terribly over the past several months. That's been nothing compared to how bad it will be going forward.

I'm not going to say I'll get over it, because I won't. I will try to put it in the past and learn from it. 

So please take care of yourself and keep working toward your goal.

I do still love you.

Can we do this?

Today in the US, as of 3pm, 50,000 jobs were lost. Just today.

Since January 1st 170,000 jobs have been lost.

In 2008 2.6 million jobs were lost.

Rich used to joke around that he was going to quit his highly stressful job and go work at Home Depot. Today they slashed 7000 jobs.

My mom was born in 1930. When my mom was a little girl, for Christmas one year my grandfather tore a page out of a magazine for her and her brother and framed them. That was all they got that year. Since they didn't know any other way, it was more than enough.

My grandfather had taught in a one room schoolhouse in Upstate New York in the 20s. After he moved his family to New Jersey he ended up getting a job at a car dealership. He worked there for a year, and the only car he could manage to sell was his own.

Eventually FDR and a World War pulled the nation out of the skids and jobs became plentiful. However, they still had to choose which kid would go to college. My uncle ended up being sent to Drexel because he was a man and would have to support a family someday. My mom, who had always wanted to be a teacher, ended up in secretarial school.

My uncle now lives in a very ritzy section of the Philadelphia suburbs and also has a home "down the shore." My mom, having worked for the past 33 years in a school system, makes less than $40,000 a year and clips coupons.

Growing up in my house everything was saved. Yogurt and cream cheese containers. Ziploc bags were rinsed and reused. There was no dryer, in order to save electricity. In the spring and summer clothes were hung out back on the lines, and in the fall and winter they were hung on clotheslines in the basement. 

I've gotten somewhat lax. I recycle all of the plastic ware allowed by our trash company because we really have no place to store it. Plus it can't be microwaved. I throw out Ziplocs. I don't rinse off tin foil and reuse it. I do several loads of laundry a week. I don't clip coupons.

Prior to the news today I had alloted myself $50 a month to play with. CDs or DVDs. Maybe a pair of shoes. Whatever. I don't have a Netflix membership and I rent no videos. I watch what I own or whatever is on TV. I don't buy books anymore, and I used to have a serious hardcover habit. 

I think that $50 is about to go by the wayside.

Our propane order this morning cost $404. That will last us a month. We have a 1000 square foot house. That's insane. We can't afford to switch to electric heat though. And the city doesn't run gas out here.

I collected all of my old gold jewelry today to sell. But then CNN broke the news of the 50,000. So now I don't know if I should do it now, when we can squeak by, or save it in case Rich loses his job and I need it to buy a week's worth of groceries someday.

I think I might wait on it.

EDIT: as of 445pm it's at 68,000.

When in Doubt

Jaws came out when I was teeny tiny. In fact, I was 4. 

I was old enough to remember the hoopla, and the freaking out about beaches. I remember the way sharks became something to be destroyed, although that was never Peter Benchley's intention. 

I wasn't allowed to see it as a kid, because my parents didn't want me to be afraid of the water. Considering how adamant they were about my not seeing it, I was surprised later to discover that it was rated PG. I thought for sure it must be R. Nope.

I saw it anyway. One of my friends had HBO. Know what I remember most about it from back then? I didn't understand it. I didn't see the big deal about it, because there wasn't any real gore, but it seemed like every movie my father had dragged me to see as a kid. Boring and too much talking. Being about 9 years old, I thought it sucked. It also failed to scare me out of the water. I never stopped swimming in the ocean.

In my late teens I had the chance to see it again. There was nothing on TV one day, and I turned it on. By this time Shark Week had begun on the Discovery Channel, so I thought I'd give it another shot. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. All of that talking that had bored me at 9? Brilliant. The shark? Practically incidental. I would have sat and watched Robert Shaw, Roy Scheider, and Richard Dreyfuss talk about paint drying by the end of that movie. The throwaway moments are my favorites. Quint and then Hooper crushing the beer cans. Ellen asking Brody if he wants to get drunk and fool around. When Hooper tells Brody that he should let the wine breathe as Brody dumps half the bottle in a glass. I can't think of a single moment in this movie that's a clunker. 

Jaws was the first DVD I ever purchased. When I finally got with the program in 2001 and bought a DVD player I decided that I needed to make the first purchase something special. The first thing that came to mind was Jaws. And even though I own it I still watch it every time it's on television. In fact, I think I've watched it on TV more in the past 8 years than I have on my DVD.

So this morning nothing was on TV. I'm not really a music person. I like music, but for background noise I prefer TV so that if something interesting happens I can stop and watch. I considered putting in a DVD, but everything I was in the mood for was totally inappropriate with a 2 year old around. I opened the DVD closet, and my eyes fell on Jaws. 

So that's what I've been watching this morning. 

Not Famous

GARNER, N.C. — A 19-month-old boy likely had been dead for six weeks before family members found his body in his mother's apartment in mid-November, Garner police said Friday.

There was a little girl in Florida named Caylee Anthony. She was cute and tiny and all toddler. 

Sherita Nicole McNeil, 23, of 1852 Spring Drive, Garner, was charged Thursday afternoon with first-degree murder and concealing the death of a person in the death of DeVarion Montrell Gross.
McNeil was in the Wake County jail Friday afternoon after a first court appearance during which a District Court judge denied her bond.

By all indications Caylee's own mother killed her. Only Caylee, Casey, and the Universe know what happened in Caylee's final moments. However, her mother failed to report her missing for a month. Then she lied. 

Although investigators are still awaiting a final autopsy report, initial results found the boy suffered multiple injuries in the months preceding his death, Police Chief Tom Moss said during a news conference.

"We know that Sherita McNeil, upon DeVarion's death, which we believe occurred in early October of this past year, concealed his body in her residence for a period of approximately six weeks, using bleach to mask the smell, until he was discovered by family members," Moss said.

Caylee's mom was eventually arrested and indicted. She can't take a shit in her cell without Headline News being all over it. For some reason the state of Florida took the death penalty off the table in this.

Caylee was found on December 11th in a wooded area. She had been wrapped in a blanket, stuffed into a laundry bag, and then stuffed into a plastic garbage bag. Her mouth was duct taped shut.

Family members found DeVarion in a sealed white plastic garbage bag in a second-floor closet of the home he shared with his mother and sister, according to search warrants and a 911 call released in the case. The bag was underneath sheets inside a plastic container.

"Though bleach was used to mask the odor, there was a strong, strong odor, and it would not take that much looking to find where the source of the odor was," said Christina Pappas, a special victims investigator handling the case.

Caylee was white. DeVarion was black. Maybe I'm just jaded, but that's the only reason I can come up with for why Caylee is plastered everywhere and DeVarion is not.

According to a timeline released Friday, DeVarion was last seen alive Oct. 3, when he was picked up from day care. On Oct. 6, police said, McNeil told the day care that the boy was staying with his godmother.

"Sherita McNeil repeatedly lied to family, friends and others about her son's welfare and whereabouts," Moss said.

Garner police began looking into the case on Nov. 1 after an individual close to the family began calling with concerns. Investigators tried multiple times to meet with McNeil and DeVarion but were unsuccessful, Moss said.

Pappas said she had an appointment with McNeil on Nov. 13, but that McNeil never came to it. Pappas had tried contacting her again on Nov. 14.

Although police did not give a motive for the crime, search warrants suggest they suspected McNeil might have wanted to get rid of her son.

Investigators searching the home uncovered letters from DeVarion's father, Eric Chambers, expressing concern over McNeil getting rid of their son, according to a Dec. 3 search warrant.

Chambers, who was in the Wake County jail at the time on habitual-felon charges, has been cooperative with police, investigators said Friday, and they do not believe he had any involvement in his son's death.

"I believe there was communication between (Chambers) and (McNeil), where he felt concern that she was not going to keep the child but that she was going to give the child away," Pappas said. "And because he was behind bars, he was not going to be able to stop that."

DeVarion was 19 months old.

Reporter: Amanda Lamb - WRAL

Bull headed

I have a personality characteristic that I guess would be pure stubbornness. 

The more people tell me that I HAVE to read, watch, view something the less likely I am to do it.

Dirty Dancing came out in my senior year in high school. It wasn't something I was very interested in from the get go, but after EVERY frigging girl in school told me, squealing, that I HAD TO SEE THIS I made the decision to never sit though it ever, even on pain of death.

It's been 20 years. I still haven't seen it. And I never will.

This applies to TV shows and books as well. I thank the gods that I discovered Harry Potter prior to the hysteria, because otherwise I never would have read them, and I would have missed out on something great. In 1999 a friend of mine I had worked with in a book store in NJ sent me an email and said, "There's this book called Harry Potter. Read it." And I did. If she had told me that 2 years later I would have dug in my heels and never read them.

There's this little book called The Bridges of Madison County. Never read it. Never saw the film either.

I read a book called The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks because he was a "local author." It exploded. He became the patron saint of male written romance. And I never touched another one of his books ever. I also haven't seen THOSE films.

This happened with The Sopranos and Sex and the City as well. I really had no interest in either anyway, but after the rabidness started there was no way in HELL I would ever watch either. I have walked in on parts of The Sopranos and walked right out again. I have NEVER seen an episode of SATC and I never ever will. Ever. Even if I'm tortured.

This doesn't mean that I won't enjoy things that are popular. I couldn't wait for The Dark Knight to come out, and when it hit DVD I was bouncing up and down waiting for my copy from Amazon. And I'm a pop culture junkie. I watch 24, I watch Idol. I really don't have highbrow tastes.

However, enough people have now informed me that I MUST see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button that they have guaranteed that I will never in my life sit through it.

If only I had listened to my instincts for Titanic and Cast Away.

The Day After

This morning my daughter danced with our new president.

Obama Boogies

Yesterday CNN was on all day. We took breaks to go outside and play in the snow, but kept coming back in so that someday I can tell her, "On the day President Obama was sworn in you spent the entire day ignoring him."

These are my favorite images from yesterday.

My absolute favorite quote from yesterday had nothing to do with politics or policy. It was this:

"How good-looking is my wife?"

Yesterday prior to the Oath being taken I witnessed the Clintons holding hands as they approached the dais. All I could think was, "Oh come ON."

Being someone who is actually in love with my husband, the joy that the Obamas clearly take in each other's company is wonderful. I really believe in it. I don't think those looks they give each other can be faked.

So aside from my wishes that President Obama survives his term(s), I also hope and pray that their marriage survives the pressures of the office as well. I cross my fingers that theirs never becomes "in name only." 

And I will continue to use them as an example for how to behave with my spouse.