Far out, man

No more evidence needed. The people who listen to WFPK in Louisville are old hippies. I know because I am one. And because of this list.

We were asked to write in with our top 5 greatest albums of all time. The folks at the station would compile the votes and spend the week between Christmas and New Year's playing selections from the top 919 (because they are 91.9 on the FM dial) albums.

Here are the top 20. (Asterisks indicate my votes.)

1 Pink Floyd, Dark Side of The Moon*
2 Beatles, Revolver
3 Beatles, White Album*
4 The Clash, London Calling*
5 Miles Davis, Kind of Blue
6 Bob Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited*
7 Beatles, Abbey Road
8 Van Morrison, Moondance
9 Beatles, Rubber Soul
10 U2, Joshua Tree
11 Joni Mitchell, Blue
12 Beatles, Sgt. Pepper
13 Radiohead, Ok Computer
14 Bob Dylan, Blood on the Tracks
15 Grateful Dead, American Beauty
16 Rolling Stones, Exile on Main Street*
17 Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run
18 Velvet Underground, Loaded
19 Joni Mitchell, Court and Spark
20 Paul Simon, Graceland

Do Be Do

After days and days of decorating and wrapping and cooking and entertaining and being entertained I ... just ... stopped.

I consider myself a "do -er" not a "be -er" most of the time. And now I know why. I'm not very good at just be -ing.

After a day or two of having nothing to do I can feel my brain starting to rot. Instead of reading, I watch trashy TV (did you know that HGTV has a show about Scrapbooking?). Instead of doing things around the house, I wander around the house (I threw some dishtowels in the washer and forgot about them for 2 days). Instead of doing anything productive online, I play online games (Bejewelled is the best!).

Then I decided that I should run some errands. You know, just to get out of the house. I am usually very efficient. But that's when I am in do -ing mode. Be -ing mode is entirely different.

I waited in line for 40 minutes to renew my license tags. I waited in line for 40 minutes to return/exchange a gift at Best Buy. The cat ran out of her special prescription food so I rushed over to the Vet ... and bought the wrong kind. Now I have to go back.

What about you? Are you a be -er or a do -er? Maybe we can give each other lessons.

The mania is over, it is now safe to leave your homes

I got a little manic Christmas weekend.

SATURDAY: Eight people showed up for the post Hanukkah latke-fest. I cooked seven pounds of potato latkes, or a little less than a pound of latke per person (except that Jack ate four pounds on his own).

SUNDAY: Lynn's Paradise Cafe is a terrific place for Christmas Eve brunch, especially when your friends order bourbon french toast AS AN APPETIZER and the bloody marys are world famous. I almost went to the mall afterwards to sit in the massage chair but came home and took a nap instead.

MONDAY: Presents, a movie with the children and chinese food for dinner.

My 2006 Travels

Following Kottke.org's lead of listing every place visited in 2006, here's my list.

One or more nights spent in each place. Those cities marked with an * were visited multiple times on non-consecutive days.

New York City*
Gurneville, California
San Jose, California
Birmingham, Alabama
St. Louis, Missouri
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Las Vegas, Nevada

I'm not a bad tipper, I just can't do math in my head

I must confess. I stiffed a cabdriver when we were in New York.

I didn't realize it until we were out of the cab and Hannah said to me, "Mom, I can't believe you just did that. I'm so embarrassed I want to die."

The fare (quick run across the park) was $6.10. I gave the driver $10.25 and asked for $4 back. I'm so dumb. I meant to ask for $3 but I screwed up. So the driver got a whopping 15 cents.

I'll bet I've done this before. In restaurants, in bars, and now in taxicabs. I can't be trusted.

Trees and lights

We're finally decorated for the season.

Have a happy and a merry!

The 20-Year Old in New York

Hannah and I had a wonderful trip to New York to celebrate her 20th birthday.

We saw two musicals (Evil Dead and Spamalot), five museums (including MOMA, Metropolitan, Natural History and Guggenheim), five neighborhoods (Upper East Side, Upper West Side, East Village, SOHO and Midtown) and tons of good food.

Added: See images from Glitter and Doom, as referenced in the comments. VERY disturbing. We were not allowed to photograph this special exhibition but the museum provides these terrific views.

My new favorites

New favorite song: "Fake is the New Real" by Alice Smith
New favorite color: Moonlight
New favorite mood: Subversive
New favorite activity: Kvetching
New favorite TV show: College football
New favorite old movie: Princess Bride
New favorite alcoholic beverage: Cabernet Sauvignon

Was it something I cooked?

Jack started throwing up Monday night. The doctor asked him what he'd been eating lately. I suppose they were trying to rule out food poisoning.

He said, "Mom made Turkey Tetrazzini out of the leftover turkey from thanksgiving."

The true diagnosis was appendicitis. They performed an appendicectomy last night. He's fine and was able to go home to his father's house afterward.

Whew. My cooking's not poisonous after all.

Thanks for the memories

Thanksgiving weekend was quite nice this year. Here are a few of the memorable moments:

- The Corn Pudding Incident: I said: "Should I make corn pudding?" Others said, "No, there are plenty of side dishes already. No one will miss it." Ninety minutes later, Jack's girlfriend Sarah announces "Corn pudding is my favorite Thanksgiving dish."

- Acting Just Like Family: "I want more whipped cream," announced guest #1. "Get your own," said guest #2.

- Thank you Jesus: Daughter Hannah, who drove to Owensboro with boyfriend Nick, called in the middle of the day to say "Thank you for being so open-minded. I slept last night in a room with bible verses on the walls!"

- The Mashed Potato Manifesto: We found this hand-written note near the leftovers in the refrigerator, "Do NOT eat the mashed potatoes. Everyone knows they are MY favorite." And then we found the leftover mashed potato container in the sink -- empty. The question was: Which teenager wrote the note and which one ate the mashed potatoes?

- I Meant It In The Best Way: I actually offered cash to Eek's friend in exchange for her red cowboy boots. I admired the boots. Really. Was that rude?

Today's word is ...

... gobemouche (GAWB moosh)

Someone who believes any report or rumor, not matter how improbable.

Yep, this is my life at work these days. It's great fun, you ol' gobemouche you.

(Thanks Martha)!

Honey, I made the children weird

I found this photo when I was downloading some images from my camera.

What on earth are they doing here? Why? I'm not sure which I find scarier -- the mask or the blue hair.

Parenting advice now welcome.

The best birthday present

I got what I wanted for my election day birthday -- a new member of congress from Kentucky's 3rd Congressional District -- democrat John Yarmuth.

This photo makes him look very congressional, don't you think?

And while I was in an all-day meeting today I learned that Donald Rumsfeld resigned. Does that mean that my mother-in-law (if she would ever acknowledge that Babycakes is gay) has to find another name for her dog Rummy?

In-N-Out Burgers

When we weren't gambling, we were eating. Most days we found plenty of buffood (buffet+food=buffood) options.

But since Babycakes loved In-N-Out we ate there twice.

More from Las Vegas

We tried to visit several casinos each day, convinced that at the next one the odds might be a little bit better, or the drinks a little stronger. We tried slot machines, video poker and $2 Blackjack.

Did we win? Sure. Yeah. We won. A lot. Uh-huh. Really. We did. Seriously.

Tomorrow is my birthday ...

Actually, I never celebrate a birth DAY. I prefer to celebrate a birthday SEASON lasting for weeks, or sometimes months.

Maybe it's the egotistical Scorpio-ness that causes me to want to focus the spotlight a bit longer and brighter. Or my baby-boomer nature that believes that just by being born I helped change the world forever.

I have many, many needs but none of them require gifts. Your adoration will be sufficient.

Las Vegas post #1

What I learned on my first trip to Las Vegas:

When you put money in the pretty machine with all the lights it disappears and never comes back.

Halloween street

My neighborhood goes wild decorating for Halloween. On my walk today I took these photos for your enjoyment.

There are over 2,500 trick-or-treaters on "Halloween Street," which is one block away from where I live. The best thing, I think, about the decorations is that they are original, creative and funny.

Sure, there are a fair number of store bought items and some of those inflatable things but there are also art projects, engineering projects and professionally constructed displays done by guys who apparently have way too much free time.

On Halloween night, the residents dress up, throw huge parties, and hire (I'm not kidding) brass bands to entertain the kiddies.

You should see it. Hillcrest Avenue, between Frankfort and Brownsboro, Crescent Hill, Louisville.

Do I know the way to San Jose?

I finally arrived in San Jose 12 hours after I boarded the first plane at 6:30 a.m. this morning.

It was supposed to be an easy trip -- hop on Delta to Atlanta, a 75-minute layover (time for breakfast) then the 4+ hour trip to San Jose. But our plane in Louisville had a minor mechanical problem which delayed takeoff for an hour.

We actually got into Hartsfield-Jackson in time to make the connection, but we had to sit on the ground because our gate was not clear. Then I had to travel from the farthest point at Terminal E to Terminal B. By the time I got there, the plane had already taxied to the runway.

Dash to the reticketing counter. Rebooked to LAX, then STANDBY on American Eagle to San Jose.

But I'm here. Safe and sound.

Vacation starts Friday noon, when this meeting is finished.

Wish List #2

1) This T-shirt.
2) This book.
3) This CD.

Wish List #1

1) Classical music "sampler" CD to help me decide what to buy.
2) Two more of those ultra soft down pillows.
3) Stylish new winter coat.

Pure as driven snow

I have decided to stop swearing.

Besides, I'm not really very good at it. I grew up in a house where damn, hell and shit (and the occasional shit-ass) were as bad as it got. I don't know whether to classify piss-ant as swearing or not. I have never been sure what it really means, except that Mom is mad and to stay out of the kitchen.

From now on, every fucking thing I say will be expletive-free. I am not shitting you. This goddamn habit has gotten out of hand. For example, my son-of-a-bitching DREAMS are riddled with words that could scorch my down-filled pillows.

Jesus H. Christ. I am, after all, a Ph.D. program dropout so shouldn't I have a adequate and appropriate vocabulary ready at the drop of my tongue? Hell yes! Yet somehow this dumbass, distasteful behavior has become part of my repertoire.

I've quit. Really.

Anniversary? What? When?

CORRECTION: I must confess. This post has been edited. The original version said "Babycakes and I have been together since November 1994." That was WRONG (and boy, did I hear about it!). The correct year was 1993. See what I mean? I am bad, very bad.

Eek's post about her anniversary got me thinking about my own relationships.

When I got married (what was I thinking!) it was a Tuesday, at lunch. What can I say? I am obviously a hopeless romantic.

I never could remember the date of my anniversary. My spouse (we never referred to each other as husband/wife, although now I delight in calling him my EX-husband) gave me a ring on the occasion of our 10th year together. We'd never had wedding rings before -- something that drove my mother bat-crazy.

Anyway, it was something he'd designed and it was lovely. It also had the date engraved inside. We were together for another seven years.

Babycakes and I have been together since November 1993 (far out!) and, umm, we can't really get married because of that gender thing and George W. Bush.

So Babycakes and I don't really have an anniversary because when do same-sex couples start counting? First date? First sleep-over? Move in together date?

We need your help to choose a date. Ideas?

Welcome to the blogosphere

Let's all say hello to three new friends who have joined the blogging ranks recently.

Melanie started meandering a few weeks ago. You'll find her sitting on her porch, sipping iced tea. She'll offer you some if you stop by.

Bruce is a hair rancher. For real. I assure you his photos and stories of life out in the country will keep you amused.

And Dana, the traveling fool, plans to take us around the world -- one post at a time.

Welcome, welcome, welcome.

Lost in space

I've been pretty worried about the latest news on Pluto.

I mean, did any of those so-called scientists stop to consider the astrological significance of downgrading our beloved planet to a "pluton"? WTF?

Pluto rules my astrological sign. That makes it pretty damned important in my book.

Pluto beseeches the masses to look inward (and to their subconscious) to see what's there. It may be scary, but Pluto doesn't care. This Planet knows how to push buttons.

Then let's remember how Pluto rules the reproductive system. I don't want a puny "pluton" to have anything to do with the all-powerful Yoni.

So you think you can dance?

No, I really can't.

It's official. I am adding LINE DANCING to my growing list of "Things for which I have no talent." Also on the list: algebra, singing, parenting teenagers, shopping for clothes that flatter me.

I could change the name of the list to "Things I do not care to do" to save me some embarrassment but I haven't reached the point where I have given up trying most of those things (except algebra).

Who knew Vikings had ... sticks

Click on the photo to enlarge it.

Those "Sons of Norway" have taken "fair food" to the extreme.

(Imagine the accent) "See here, ya take two meatballs and put 'em on a stick like this. Then ya dip them in cornmeal batter and fry 'em up. That's how you get Vikings on a Stick. Yeah, you betcha."

No, I didn't eat one. Sheesh. I wouldn't eat a Viking if ...

Learning Minneapolis

Facts about Minneapolis:

1. It's easier to spell than Albuquerque.
2. Whenever I ask a native what I "should not miss" they answer without hesitation, "Mall of America."
3. There is no recommended regional food, except lutefisk but no one will admit to have ever eaten any.
4. There is a serious mosquito problem here in the summer and it gets worse after a rain. (Lucky me, it rained yesterday.)

Creature of habit

Why do I always use the same restroom stall at work?

And when I walk for exercise, I always follow the same route in the neighborhood or always go counter-clockwise on the track in the park. At the gym I head for the same treadmill (even though they are all the same).

I drive to work the same way every day. I meet Becky for bagels every Friday morning.

Rut? What rut?

Better than the "real" media

I recommend Live from an Israeli Bunker "a live blog from an Israeli bunker via laptop and wifi. Provides a unique and unprecedented insight into the rapidly escalating situation in the middle east. Experience the events thru the eyes of the people who live them, and perhaps get an idea of how it's really like over here. This is much more human and accurate then the major news channels."

The pampered cat

When I got home from work yesterday I noticed that Moe, the cat, seemed drunk. She was walking with an unsteady gait, as if she could not control her back legs.

Moe is 17 years old. And she doesn't drink alcohol. Something was definitely wrong.

The vet said he thinks she had "a small stroke." Her eyes were unevenly dilated and she wobbled. "This," he said, "is not unusual for a cat this age (80 in human years)."

So we took her home and fed her scrambled eggs. Tonight she gets tuna. I wish we'd spoiled her more.

Danger! Danger!

This sign was posted near the fountains at Waterfront Park to discourage swimming.

The news story published in yesterday's Courier Journal explains the reasoning behind the sign:

The water in the fountain pools is, like all water, made of two-thirds hydrogen atoms and one-third oxygen atoms.

And as any chemistry student can tell you, there is no health threat from coming into contact with H20.

David Karem, the Waterfront Development Corp.'s executive director, had the signs made to try to keep people out of the water after health officials raised concerns about bacteria in the fountains last year.

However, tests this year show the fountains meeting swimming pool standards.

Karem said he was counting on a lack of understanding about water's chemical makeup, and he thought that suggesting a link to one of the world's most dangerous weapons -- the hydrogen bomb -- might keep them from jumping in.

"I thought that with the word … maybe people would not go there," he said.

This chair makes me happy

Here's my new desk chair at home.


According to the product literature, this chair "is ergonomic in design for maximum comfort. Induces proper blood circulation and the durable rubber spring support allows optimum ventilation."

Reading avalanche

These books are stacked up, waiting to be read or waiting to fall:

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
Saving Fish from Drowning by Amy Tan
Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser
A Million Little Pieces by James Frey
Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan

New kitchen floor or flat screen TV?

I lust. I drool. The very name ... Sony ... makes my pants pound. But I have so many questions about flat screen televisions. Jeremy at Best Buy answered these for me:

Q. Where do the wires go when you mount a flat screen TV to the wall?
A. They drill holes in your wall and fish the wires down and out to connect to your cable box and other stuff. For an extra $500 (!) they will install your TV for you. For $100 they will come to your house first to see if hiding the wires inside the wall of your house will work. Then they'll deduct the $100 from the installation fee.

Q. What are the best brands?
A. (Duh.) Sony is #1. Then Toshiba. There's not much difference in price but Toshiba goes on sale more often.

Q. What is the most popular size?
A. They sell a lot of 32-inch models but 26-inch is a close second. The price difference between the sizes is about $400. The bigger models work better in bigger rooms.

Q. How much? (I know, if you've gotta ask ... you can't afford it.)
A. Between $1,300 and $2,000. Then there's the installation ($500), and the mounting bracket (another $80 to $200, depending on what you choose).

Q. Will they get cheaper?
A. Don't count on it.

Q. Should we get one?
A. Do YOU have one? What would you recommend?

The one about how the movie was sold out

Like everyone else on the planet, I wanted to see how Johnny Depp took Capt. Jack Sparrow to new heights (depths?) in "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest."

Aaarrgghhh mateys, it was not to be so.

Every screen within driving distance of my house was sold out until after 10 p.m. last night.

Yes, I know, if I'd planned ahead I could have purchased tickets online (this internet thing has really caught on) and saved myself some disappointment. But, dear readers, your beloved Dott loves the spontaneous and she couldn't be bothered. [Sigh]

Love them cowboys

I've spent the last week or two watching cowboys on TV.

First, there was the new TV movie "Broken Trail" with Robert Duvall. It was okay but nothing compared to "Lonesome Dove," the fabulous mini-series with Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones. "Lonesome Dove" is one of my favorites of all time along with the classic "Little Big Man" and cheesy-but-wonderful "Dances With Wolves."

The Hallmark Channel, understanding how Duvall-in-a-Stetson draws viewers, decided to broadcast all eight hours of "Lonesome Dove" last weekend. My DVR has never been so happy.

I still haven't caught up on some episodes I missed of DeadfuckingWood on HBO, which isn't about cowboys so much but fits loosely in the genre. All except the fucking cussing.

Overheard in Birmingham

"... if it doesn't work, blame it on Birmingham."
[Reading the name of the bus] "Alabama Limo, isn't that a euphemism?"
"Do you know what you can do with a goat?"
"Baby ducks, pond and day-old breadcrumbs."
"I think our hotel is missing one of its points."
"I just got us a car!"
"What we have here is a failure to communicate."
"You can have $150 million, as soon as I transfer it from my offshore account ..."
"Have we seen a crying YAD yet?"
"We just saw two commissioners making out in the stairwell."

Sleepless in Birmingham

It's after 1 a.m. Birmingham time and I am still working.

The lights in this convention center are on timers and they go off automatically (except for the emergency ones) at midnight. Tonight someone figured out how to get them turned back on so we're not in the near-dark, working by the light of our computer screens.

Birmingham bound

I leave tomorrow for Birmingham, Alabama where I will be working for the next eight days.

You probably didn't know this but Birmingham is the home of Vulcan Park where this giant statue is located.

Any city that has a giant statue of a Roman God is okay by me.

Thanks to Dystopos for the photo.

Thank you Henry Wallace

Wallace gives 2 groups $2 million: Fairness Campaign, ACLU to benefit

Priceless

Wedding Dress: $800
Wedding Reception: $11,000
Wedding Cake: Tasteless

We call it "crawdad"

I love this dialect map.

According to the map, only 19.48% of those surveyed say "crawdad." And we all live in Kentucky. Well, okay, MOST of us live in Kentucky. I'll bet you $5 that the rest were raised in Kentucky.

He's a better writer than me anyway

Read the lovely and talented Jim Welp at his blog and at the site of this funny little journal.

Wow. I wish I could write like Jim.

Cats in sinks

I don't know why Cats in Sinks exists, but something about it makes me happy.

Our own cat, the fabulous Moe, wouldn't be caught dead in a sink. She's too busy re-reading The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and finishing her novel.

Deaf ... and dumb

While the rest of the world is busy debating whether it is appropriate to use a microphone to pray during a public school graduation (no, for Christ's sake!) I have been cleaning my ears.


Yep, you heard me. This is a story about how a foreign object became lodged in my ear canal (see diagram).

It started innocently enough. I showered, put in my contacts, moisturized ... you know, the typical morning routine. Then it happened (cue the shrieking music). The cotton swab I was using in my ear LOST ITS TIP. INSIDE OF MY EAR. And instead of reacting calmly, I decided to poke the stick in my ear to see if it would ... what? magically reattach itself? I don't know! It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. So now I had a wad of cotton stuffed pretty far down in my ear.

I summoned Babycakes who said, "You want me to put WHAT, WHERE?" which is pretty effective as foreplay in our house but this time she was holding tweezers.

"You'd better have your morning coffee first," I said.

After several minutes of "would you please hold still" and "ouch! don't hurt me" she surrendered the tweezers. "This," she announced, "is why I didn't go to medical school." Well. Now we know.

I dressed, drank coffee, read the paper and began rehearsing the speech I'd give to the doctor at the immediate care center. You know what doctors say: "Don't ever put anything in your ear smaller than your elbow."

I went into the bathroom, closed my eyes, and inserted the tweezers into my ear. When I heard (felt) them bump into the cotton I sweezed them tight and gently pulled the cotton out of my ear.

I think I'll go to medical school.

The Bubble Project

At the GEL conference a few weeks ago was the creator of The Bubble Project, Ji Lee.

I think Louisville needs to join in.

Cybernun

I'll have what she's having

This was lunch at the world-famous Katz's Deli on Manhattan's Lower East Side last Saturday. I ordered the pastrami on rye. Babycakes got a hot dog with sauerkraut. The pickles are standard. See the New York trip photos.

"It was a dark and stormy night ..."

This list of the best 100 first lines from novels is worth your time.

My personal favorite is Number 42.

What's yours?

Bullet. Dodged.

I still have a job. My work team is intact. Other colleagues, however, suffered badly.

Now the survivor's guilt sets in.

Can you please explain this?

In 1970 the song "Band of Gold" by Freda Payne hit the radio waves.

And for the past 36 years I've been trying to find out what the lyrics mean.

Please explain.

No, I won't introduce you to the drug dealers

Yes, I'd be happy to tell you more about my neighbors.

First off, those people in the house with the unkempt lawn probably are NOT drug dealers. I just said that. However, one of them wears dreadlocks which I think is, like, code, for "I smoke pot" and so I guess they are way too busy to mow the lawn or fix the gutters.

Across the street is where Mary and Joseph live. Those aren't their real names but he attends Baptist seminary (I'm pretty sure that SHE is not a seminarian unless she's majoring in "wife" because as we all know women aren't fit for ministry) so that's what Babycakes decided to call them. They hung a large American flag on their porch the day after we hung Tibeten Prayer Flags on ours, because they pray to the American God and we are ... well ... not saved.

Next to us is the HOUSE WITH THE POOL. You might think that we go over there to swim but you'd be wrong. They like to listen to Jimmy Buffet while they swim. And there are hygiene issues. Private pools and private hot tubs are just breeding grounds for all sorts of germy infections that itch. I'm not getting in there. Not with those people.

Then there's "Mr. Man" who we think is retired CIA. Or maybe he was a Navy Seal. We don't know his real name either but we're pretty sure that our phone is tapped and that our house is under constant surveilance. He walks a very ugly English bulldog and owns an old pickup truck and the latest model Ford Mustang convertable. When we put a "Peace is Patriotic" sign in our yard he put TWO "Support Our Troops" signs in his. That showed us, yessiree.

There's a house for sale down the block. Why don't you buy it? We'll give you a nickname ...

Rage against the machines

They started at 9 a.m. Saturday morning. The lawn mowers. The leaf blowers. The weed whackers. The hedge trimmers.

My neighbors are obsessed. Their lawns are immaculate (except that one house where the drug dealers live). Whenever one machine stopped another one began.

All of this activity ruined my plans for the weekend: To sleep late, nap often and spend all of my time on the porch in the hammock.

So now I'm cranky.

Actually, I'm cranky for a lot of reasons, but this was just the icing on the cupcake.

I'm too tired for a real post

Want to know how tired I am? I think I'm seeing things.

Click on this link and stare at the +.

Sushi doesn't suck

  
Babycakes encouraged me to join her and our friends tonight for sushi at Maido.

As many of you know, sushi is not my favorite food. I don't think my polish or anglo-saxon ancestors ate it, so why should I? But I enjoyed some of what we ate tonight (but not the stuff in the middle row of this picture).

Happy Pesach

Last night was the first night of Passover (remember in The Ten Commandments when they had to put the lamb's blood over the doorpost and the sky turned all scary?).

In my family (recovering Jew, Shiksa princess, teen Jew poser and Catholic schoolboy) we celebrate whatever damn holiday we want to. The Matzoh Ball soup from Whole Foods was delicious. Babycakes ate gefilte fish too but the rest of us averted our eyes.

And I had four glasses of wine just because.

Hot! Flashes!

Last night I was among the 800 women (and two men, maybe) who attended the Kentucky Author Forum where we were treated to a conversation between Sue Monk Kidd and Jean Shinoda Bolin.

At the lovely wine and cheese reception I experienced an incredible hot flash -- it started at my knees (just above the cowgirl boots) and crept up my thighs, hips, torso, neck, ears and face. Then two minutes later I felt the unmistakable whoosh of uterine blood following the inevitable path of gravity.

I made it to the ladies room just in time to prevent an embarrassing stain on the lobby carpet (lucky for me I was wearing a long black skirt).

Babycakes suggested that I stay out of women-filled auditoriums again until after menopause is over.

Let's talk about breasts

Yes, I knew that title would catch your attention.

I feel compelled (or maybe obligated) after I wrote about underpants to share this british advertisement for sports bras with you. (Warning, you probably don't want to view this at work.)

Be sure you "click here to see the Bounce-ometer in action and find your perfect sports bra."

You really don't want to miss it.

Thanks to Shpilkes for sharing this.

Whistle while you work

All my life I've believed that I can't read and listen to music at the same time. And since I read and write (and rant) all day long at work, I naturally assumed I couldn't listen to music at work either.

But brothers and sisters I am here to tell you: THE IPOD CHANGED MY LIFE.

Steven Jobs is thrilled. I can hear him say, "Boys, we just got us another addict. Break out the blender, it's margarita time!"

And iTunes is my new best friend. My life now has a soundtrack. Hallelujah, praise Allah (I mean Apple).

But now comes the hard part.

Which music goes with which activity? Bach for preparing budgets? Is Coldplay conducive to coding HTML? Enya for endless emailing?

Help me (Rhonda). I need options and your suggestions.

Thanks Jason for getting me thinking about this.

Babycakes invents a new disease

While we were driving around Saturday in unfamiliar surroundings (the suburbs)shopping for a new sofa Babycakes spied a sign which proudly advertised:

CHEESY ANGUS

"Is that contagious?" she asked. "And how is that different from ITCHY ANGUS, or the chronic form of SPOTTY ANGUS?"

Panties in a wad

I have a confession to make.

Until last week, my underpants were one size too large.

Of course, dear readers, one does not discover this fact until one actually purchases underpants in the correct size and puts them on and says "Holy Jesus, these feel just like my skin."

Those old underpants went into the trash right quick.

Just thought you'd like to know.

Thoughts from a feminist

I've been thinking about two recent issues from the news.

First, the mommy wars. Is it a feminist statement for American women to choose NOT to have a job?

And second, the gender ratio in India. Have millions of female fetuses been aborted during the past ten years?

How are these two issues connected, you may ask?

The mommy wars make me angry. They say it's about choice. The so-called Stay At Home Moms admit that they are lucky that they have the money to Choose to be a mommy instead of a person. Why is it a choice for mommies but doesn't appear to be debated much in the daddy community?

And when society continues to value sons more than daughters and you mix that with another type of Choice it gets pretty ugly.

Go ahead. Argue with me. Bring it on.

Adventures in remodeling

The new kitchen countertops were installed yesterday and I must say they look lovely.

Our old countertops were installed so poorly by the nimrods who sold us this house that our new dishwasher wouldn't fit. I've learned since that the standard is that countertops are 35" from the floor. Our old ones were 33 5/8".

So, what started as "we need a new dishwasher because the old one sucks and the racks are rusting through" has turned into something quite different. The new dishwasher will be installed Monday.

Now I've noticed that the kitchen floor doesn't match. And I've always hated the lighting ...

To be continued.

Brokeback Mountain shopping list

http://www.jcohen.net/mt_archive/000077.html

Wild, brilliant ...

Your Hair Should Be Blue

Wild, brilliant, and out of control. You're a risk taker with an eye to the future.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

Movies I Hate

In no particular order:

- Deliverance
- Walking Tall
- Scent of a Woman
- Terms of Endearment
- Dressed to Kill
- Almost anything with Richard Dreyfuss (except Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind)
- There's Something About Mary

The nightmare

I woke myself up screaming last night.

In my dream, as I entered my darkened hotel room and crossed over to the window to open the drapes my hand grazed the unmade bed and touched someone (or some THING) lying there.

Book Log 2006

***** I was deeply moved
**** lovely and amazing
*** recommended
** an amusing trifle
* not worth our time

The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud*** by Ben Sherwood
Coal Tattoo*** by Silas House
The Time Traveler's Wife**** by Audrey Niffenegger
I, Elizabeth*** by Rosalind Miles

[See Book Log 2005]

Zionists and cowboys are hot

In the movie Munich, actor Eric Bana makes Zionism sexy. He plays Avner, a former Mossad agent who becomes an assasin for mother Israel. This movie is part James Bond and part Godfather all rolled up in a quagmire of ethical questions and PTSD.

And show me a gay man who wouldn't fall in love with Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain. When Jake leaned back against the pickup truck in the scene where they meet for the first time I think I noticed Heath Ledger gasp. Really. I really loved this movie (although it could have been shorter) because the core of the movie was about being gay and dealing (or not) with it. It wasn't funny and it wasn't tragically about AIDS it just was about being a gay person in a time and a place where it wasn't yet cool. Bravo.

Read, laugh, praise the Lord

Headlines from "The Lark"

Blessing the iPod: Churches sanctify music devices

Christian 'looters' destroy sex shops in New Orleans

Rapture Safety cards prepare parishioners, airline-style

Woe is me

What on earth do you blog about when:

- You promised your children (especially) and family that you'd never say anything embarrassing about them.

- You promised yourself that you'd never blog about work (even though there's some incredible shit going on that you'd love to rant about)

- The rest of your life consists of vacuuming, laundry and cleaning kitty litter?

Photos from Israel

Babycakes had a terrific time in Israel. See for yourself.