(Title sung to the tune of ‘Notorious’ by Duran Duran)
Ahem. Sorry, my blog is boring the heck out of me. Looking at a picture of orchid buds for weeks on end…whatever. So let’s see if perhaps I can come up with something else to talk about. I fully admit that I’ve posted most of these on Facebook already. But maybe you didn’t see them there, or maybe you’re not on Facebook, or perhaps you’re there, but we’re not friends. What a thought.
Saw this chalkboard sentiment, and thought I’d share it here. Really, I couldn’t agree more. Please, live your beliefs. Unless your beliefs happen to SUCK, in which case, at least pretend to be nice. And I wonder about the phenomenon of taking what you want to say, writing it down somewhere, and then taking a picture of it. Where did that come from? Occupy protesters? Why not just type it yourself?
What about this frog? I love him. LOVE. (I’ve decided it’s a him, and his name is Kermit. Could I be any more boring?) Watch. Don’t have any liquid in your mouth while watching.
Then there’s this, overheard through the closed door of an apartment door:
Young girl, crying.
Mom: “Why are you crying honey?”
Young girl, still crying: “I poked my eye with a fork!”
Mom: “What? You poked your eye with a fork? Why?”
Young girl, still crying, adamant: “Because I wanted to!!!”
I’m so damn hooked on Downton Abbey, it’s ridiculous. I mean, LOOK AT THOSE DRESSES! They’re gorgeous. Everyone was all panty panty hot and bothered about season 2 when it was on TV, and I hadn’t even been aware of it at all. By the time I really paid any attention, season 2 was almost over. So we watched it on our TV via Netflix download, and we were HOOKED. Pant pant pant. Must have more. So we watched the first season, and then discovered that season 2 wasn’t available on Netflix, and was only on PBS.com for a few more days. What to do? We tried to hurry and watch, but it was frustrating to feel that rushed. So I ordered the DVD from Amazon.com. Very cool, because they have a newish feature where you can stream any movie or show you order the DVD for, for about 30 days. (Probably once for a movie, 30 days for a show.) So we ordered it, and watched on our TV via Amazon, until the DVD showed up. I think we got through the whole series, actually, and only ended up watching the a bit of extras on DVD. But I’m glad we have the DVD, because I can loan it out. Ted’s mom has it now, then his sister, and I’m not sure who after that. Anyway, I LOVE this show. So delicious and well made. If you’ve not been paying attention, please do, and get yourself hooked asap. I’m currently watching season 1 for a second time, because I miss it, and I want to see what I might have missed the first time around.
Maya’s turning 16 next week. How can THAT be? Gah. I don’t feel that old. Then again, I’ve sort of decided to start telling people I’m 50. I’m 46, but I figure I can get 10 years out of being 50. Start now, and people will think I look young for 50. Keep it up until I’m 55, when people will say, “Oh, really?”, the switch to saying I’m 60. Pretty good, huh? Gives me some time to get USED to being 50, too. Anyway, 16…crazy. She’s such a good kid, and we’re so lucky to have her. She’s funny and warm and smart and beautiful. What more could I want? If only she were somehow rich…
My BFF is going to be in town for a few days. Flitting from here to there with family obligations and colleges to visit for her son, but we’ll get some time with them as well. I’m looking forward to it. She’s been my friend since the first day we met, in 9th grade.
We now have a Neiman Marcus in our little burb. OK, it’s not a ‘little’ burb, and it is somewhat of a shopping mecca in these parts. I don’t really care about NM, but the cool thing is that my sisters’ have a friend who they’ve known since pre-school, and she is an artist, and has 8 or 10 of her paintings hanging in the sitting room at the new NM. Awesome, huh? So Ted’s mom and I went to ogle the art and the fashion, and perhaps have lunch in the cafe. Well, the art was beautiful, the clothes lovely and REALLY expensive (saw a Chanel number I liked for $10,000. Yes, that’s right…one dress, $10,000. Made the knit number (also Chanel) next to it seem like a steal at $1,700.), and the cafe had a 1.5 hour wait. For a sandwich. On a Wednesday. Whatever, we bailed on that and went next door to California Pizza Kitchen, where I was dismayed to discover that they’ve taken my favorite pasta off of their menu, but happy to find a NEW favorite, chili relleno. This whole relleno thing is a marvel to me, because the traditional way I’ve always seen it is filled with cheese, battered, and deep fried. This one was a roasted poblano (as opposed to fried), stuffed with chicken, queso cheese, roasted corn & black bean salsa, wild mushrooms, spinach, and eggplant over a Southwestern tortilla sauce. Topped with homemade creamy avocado salsa and cilantro. It was delicious. I make the pasta at home. Not sure if I can manage this one, with all of the sauces involved.
It’s been a month now since we lost our sweet dog. I miss her every single day. The part of me that feels empty wants to fill that place with another dog. The rest of me knows it’s too soon, I’m not ready, Ted’s not ready. But damn, I miss her smile.
Maya’s stoked to see The Hunger Games this weekend. I’ll probably see it, too, but probably not on opening night. I did enjoy the books, though the material seems dark enough to me that it probably should have been rated R. How could they make a ton of money on kids seeing it without their parents, though? So it’s PG-13.
What else…Oh, I’m reading The March by E.L. Doctorow. It’s good, but not as good as Downton Abbey, nor probably Mad Men, which starts up on Sunday. So it’s slow going. But going nonetheless. The Civil War sure captivates, no? Speaking of war, a WWII vet, a bombardier who was there for Normandy, came and talked to Maya’s history class. He really brought the experience to life for them, talking about being in the air over the troops as they stormed the beach, seeing all of that going on just below…That’s a generation that won’t be around much longer. He’s probably my Grandma’s age, because he said he joined in ’42, at the age of 19. Which made me think of my dentist, who as a young boy was held in an internment camp in California for being Japanese. He’s the last of a certain breed of dentists, conservative and not trying to get you to do unnecessary things so he can pay of his student loans and expensive equipment. I’m not sure what we’ll do when he retires. Also made me think of a story my mom used to tell me, about how Richard’s first babysitter’s grandmother lived with them, and she was a very old (maybe 100?) blind woman, born into slavery, who loved helping out by holding the babies. Another generation, gone. Someday our generation will be gone, and I wonder what will be remembered of us?