No Celery Please

Spider Pig
Spider Pig
Does whatever a spider pig does
Can he swing
From a web?
No he can’t
He’s a pig
Lookout
He is a spider pig.

By which I mean to say…

The Simpsons Movie was seriously funny.

It harkened back to when the Simpsons on TV was actually funny.

Seriously

Go see it.

Oh, uh, but yeah – the PG 13 label, is, I think, VERY APPROPRIATE… don’t take the wee ones.

Whew… 500 words on the nose.

You can play too, if you like…
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The Message

Mumbling, he picks up another peg and sticks it in the black board.
“Blue… red… yellow… no… orange.”
Consumed by the work, he doesn’t hear the voices drifting in whispers from the kitchen door.

“What’s he doing?” The woman peered into the room where he sits, pegs spread out before him like rainbow gravel.

With a sigh, his wife tries to explain this thing she doesn’t understand. “He’s been like this since they released him from the hospital. He says he saw something when he…”

“Died?” The friend supplies the word his wife can’t bring herself to utter.

“Yes.

“He says he saw something… and that he UNDERSTOOD. That’s exactly how he said it, like a word in all capital letters, like it was some kind of… epiphany. But I don’t understand what it has to do with this, not really. He won’t talk about it, just keeps going back for more. He won’t even let me in the room anymore. Not after he bought the third one and I tried to get him to just reuse the ones he had. I figured it wouldn’t hurt just to clear one off and let him start again on it.”

His wife takes a slow breath, remembering the anger and anguish that had been on his face.

“He yelled at me. You know he was never one to yell. He’s just obsessed. He works like that until he falls asleep at the table; then starts right back when he wakes up. It’s been three days. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you called his doctor?”

“Yes, but he won’t go back to the hospital. The only place he’ll go if he leaves the table is back to the toy store…”

They continue to watch him through the open door. He sorts and places pegs; staring at the arrangement as though trying to read something in the random pattern of lighted colors.

Later, alone at the table, his wife wonders what the lights are saying to her husband who died not a week ago and then, miraculously, came back, only to abandon her again for the lighted boards.

Stacked three by four in the dining room, his array of Lite Brites bathes him in speckled light as darkness fills the house. Five of the panels are full. Only the last one still has room on it. She wonders what he will do when he is finished. She thinks maybe it’s just stress, something he has to get out of his system. Maybe when he finishes, he’ll come back to her.

She goes to bed alone rather than try and fail once again to pry him away.

The next morning, she goes down to check on him. The panels are full. Her husband is lying on the table, eyes open and staring, but a smile of complete bliss and acceptance on his cold face.

In shock, she looks up at the panel of colored lights he built.

“Oh… Oh My God!”

She UNDERSTANDS.

OK, so this is obviously one of those that’s supposed to be emailed, but, whatever… I’ll just fake my way through those questions.

Thanks to Tiff for the easy post.

Feel free to play along at home.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

My Mom – kinda, but spelled different.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

Saturday. It was a funeral, though… you’re supposed to cry at funerals. I did almost cry on Sunday while reading certain parts of HP7, but I stopped that by mentally shaking myself and reminding me that IT”S FICTION FOR BOO’S SAKE! (And yes, in my head, I generally do swear on the name of my dog… as in… “for the love of Boo” or other such nonsense.)

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?

No. It’s always been appalling. I can print OK, though. Handily, there’s these here computer things that keep me from ever having to write.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?

Does cheese count as “meat”? No. Then turkey. Oh, wait. Salami. Uh, and bacon. Or more realistically, Chicken salad (as long, you know, as there’s no celery).

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

None for me, thanks, I’m driving.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?

Probably not. I am not good at having “friends”. We moved a lot when I was younger and so I am much better at being acquaintances with folks. Not to say people don’t like me… I’m friendly and all and get along with strangers at parties, etc. But “friends” is a bit of a hefty commitment for someone used to always moving on.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?

Sarcasm… me? Nooooooooo.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS

Yes.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?

No. No I would not. Thank you for asking. Move along now… nothing to see here.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?

Currently Apple Cinnamon Cheerios. Also – Oatmeal.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?

Yupper

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?

Yes.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?

Almost anything that Ben And Jerry can dream up. As long as, you know, there’s no celery in it… and I wouldn’t put that past ‘em.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

I try not to. Faces, I suppose. Although, if I were to be totally truthful… deformities, etc. will jump right out, then I have to be all ashamed and pretend not to notice.

15. RED OR PINK?

Red. Except for cars. I would take a pink car over red any day.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?

I am way too accommodating.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?

When you move around constantly as a kid, you kind of learn not to miss people. They come into your life and go out of your life and when they are gone, they are gone.

I still miss my Memere, though.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?

No – but tell me if you play along.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?

Black.

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?

Apple cinnamon cheerios.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?

The complete and utter silence that is the floor I work on (finance and accounting). The loudest sound around here is my typing. It’s like a freakin‘ library up here. How we came to be a tiny odd department in the sea of finance, I do not know.

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?

Yellow. Yellow is such a happy color.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?

Rain on hot asphalt. Bread baking. Gasoline.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?

Mom.

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?

Well… it wasn’t exactly sent, but I do like Tiff of the blog-land. But what the hell kind of question is this anyway? Who’s gonna say… no, the bitch who sent this to me is a total skank and I hate her?

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Last year I began an attempt to become a football fan. I expect to carry on this year. It’s still not natural to me, though.

27. HAIR COLOR?

Brown.

28. EYE COLOR?

Hazel… which is to say… part of my eyes are kind of gold-brown, and parts are green, and there’s some blue in there, all kind of speckly and mixed up. The color you see depends on what I am wearing. It sounds odd, but really, the eyes are the best thing I got going for me.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?

Food. You ever heard that song from “Oliver”? Yeah, that’s me.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

I’ll take either, as long as the happy ending isn’t contrived and deliberately written to make me cry. I don’t like being jerked around by movies, which I why I cannot watch anything made for the Hallmark channel.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?

At the movies? That would be Waitress. Um, I have every movie channel known to man, so I have no idea what the last one I might have watched on TV is.

33. FAVORITE FLOWER?

Gerber Daisy.

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?

Anything but summer!

35. HUGS OR KISSES?

Hugs – If I have to. I’d rather not touch you if I can help it. I live with a very huggy people, though… I have gotten used to it.

36. FAVORITE DESSERT?

Cheesecake. Especially if it also involves some kind of brownie.

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?

No one

38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND

Anyone – I know how these memes work…

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?

Wolves of the Calla – although, I did break in the middle of it this weekend to read HP7.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?

Optical mice need no pads.

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?

Anthony Bordain – No Reservations

42. FAVORITE SOUND?

Water.

43. FAVORITE CANDYBAR?

Those fancy new 80% Cacao Sao Tome dark chocolate yummy things from the devious folks at Hershey.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?

Well, now, that’s gonna have to depend on where “home” was at the time… Probably Hong Kong… that was a freakin‘ 18 hour flight. (had to stop for gas in Dubai).

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?

I can mock anyone for anything.

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Kingston, New York

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?

I’ll take anyone who wants to play along… Isn’t validation from strangers the main reason we do this crazy blogging thing?

So I waited and waited and waited and waited and finally, Saturday evening, I got my HP7 and was able to crack into it.

I read for a couple hours Saturday night, which is against the rules, but I did it anyway.

Rules?

Yeah.

Exercise is a necessary, but not exactly wonderfully exciting part of every day.

In an effort to ensure a sufficient amount of time spent each morning and evening on ye olde exercise bike, I have a rule.

No reading unless you are on the bike.

The reading I love, you see… and so if I am not allowed to read unless I am on the bike, well, then I can guarantee I’ll get on the bike, if only to see what comes next.

But, Saturday night, well… It had been a long day, with the memorial service for JM and all, and all I really wanted to do was sit on the couch. But there was my shiny new HP7… I’m sure you understand.

Anyway, Sunday morning, bright and early, having gotten through about a third of the book the previous evening, I had to know. HAD TO.

So, out of bed… on the exercise bike…

So it took me 3 hours and 15 minutes to finish the book. But I was by-golly NOT giving up until I knew how it came out.

I don’t know if I was more relieved at the end of the book to know what happened, or to be able to get my butt off that bike seat… the last hour or so there was a lot of shifting and fidgeting.

Not giving anything away, but I was pleased with the last book. I think it was not the best written book of the series… part of the charm of the previous books was some of the aside work – going off other corridors, etc, and the puns, and word-play. There was less of that in this book, I think because of the seriousness of the subject, and maybe she’s just a little tired? Still, a good book, and an appropriate end to the series. I was not in any way disappointed in the events as they unfolded.

I was especially pleased with the “Neville and Gran” bit she tucked in. It was a nice little touch.

So that’s it for the whole Harry Potter thing. Now if Robert Jordan could just wrap up that pesky wheel of time…

Now THIS is what I have been waiting for.

http://www.freedom2ink.com/default.asp

I have wanted to get a tattoo for quite a while now, but I am what you call a big weenie and have been afraid.

Afraid of the pain?

Nah… pain I can take.

No, the thing that gives me the willies about permanent body art is the permanent part.

I love the idea of having a tattoo of, I dunno, a heart with the SB’s name in it (come on, we’ve been married 10 years, I think it’s safe now), or maybe a cute little butterfly on my foot.

The problem is, I know too much about how tattoos can go bad on you. As time wears on, well, the ink spreads a little and gets blurry… you know how old tattoos look. Also, skin gets, uh, wrinkly, and stretches. And, well, body parts get fat (especially mine). All kinds of bad things can happen that result in that cute little butterfly tattoo that I got at 33 turning into some kind of crazy, droopy, Mothra tattoo by the time I roll into my 60s.

So yeah, here’s an excellent thought. Tattoos that are 100% permanent, until you decide that they look like complete crap and you don’t want the nurses in the home mocking your horrifically deformed body art, and then, presto change-o, a single laser treatment can zap it away, no muss, no fuss.

That’s My kind of tattoo.

The inks will come out at the end of this year. I have signed up to be notified when they are released on the market.

Finding a tattoo artist willing to use them, well, that might be kind of tricky. You see, these people are artists… they kind of feel strongly about the whole “permanent” part of the permanent body art. It’s a whole “You don’t get a tattoo thinking you might want to take it off later” thing.

Of course… that’s exactly what I think about, and what’s stopping my from getting “inked”.

I’m thinking that cash will eventually win over. I’ll lay money that the famous Las Vegas tattoo parlor that has it’s own show on A&E will sign up. After all, Vegas is the capital city of regrettable behavior, and easily removed tattoos would be a big draw for the people getting “spur of the moment” art.

Oh, yeah, it’s safe and made with FDA approved medical-grade ingredients, blah blah blah… But removable!! Yeah – Tattoos, baby!

A friend of the family has passed away this week.

JM was, I think, perhaps the nicest person I have ever met. Always kind, always wanting to make people feel comfortable. Even after he was diagnosed with two tumors and was pretty much assured that last Christmas would be his last… he was determined to make the folks visiting him feel, well, maybe not good, but as good as possible in the circumstances.

He dealt with him own impending mortality much better than I have seen others do it, much better than I think I could. Probably, I think, because he had a very strong faith in his religion.

He was the sort of guy who (in my opinion) the label “Christian” was meant to describe (not that it does in many cases).

He was the sort of guy who really makes me hope that there is, in fact, a heaven, because if anyone deserves such a place, he is on that list.

Any time someone I know dies, I think about these things. I am what you call an agnostic… can’t truly muster up the belief that “Atheist” requires. But I do know that I absolutely do not know what happens when you die. I suspect it’s like going to sleep. I do that a lot. I love sleep, so I figure death probably isn’t that bad. But after that… heaven? hell? reincarnation? becoming one with the universe? No one I know who has died has come back to tell me. I am an empirical evidence kind of gal, so I need a first hand report to get all definitive.

No real point here… just things that float around in my brain that I can usually push down and smother in inconsequential daily blather.

Even when you know someone is very ill. And you know they have no real chance for recovery.

Still… the news that they have passed away… it comes as a shock.

I thought he had months left.

Ginormous… one of my personal favorite words for explaining the bigness of something… has been added to the dictionary.

Linky-link to story

Along with a bunch of other, far more boring ones.

Still… ginormous is now an “officially official word” rather than just some cromulent old word that has stuck around through common parlance.