Confessions of a One-Track Mind

Saw the movie-musical "Oklahoma" tonight for the first time in...oh, a couple decades, at least. I didn't remember, for instance, that Eddie Albert is in it as the fast-talking womanizing peddlar---and I don't think I've ever seen him so young! Seeing Shirley Jones (more than a decade before she was Mama Partridge was a bit jarring. And I'd completely forgotten about that lengthy, drug-induced dream sequence in the middle.

I knew more of the songs than I expected I would, although I hadn't realized that it's the source of "People Will Say We're in Love". (My prior fandom predilictions have that imutably cross-referenced to "The Silence of the Lambs". Yeah....)

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Discussing the movie "Jumpin' Jack Flash" yesterday, I abbreviated it as JJF...after a typo that came out as JJR. Sometime during the night, a synapse fired, and I thought, "Wouldn't that be interesting if it was 'Jumpin' Jack Russell'?!" Given the manic nature of the terrier terrors, they probably would've out-hypered Whoopi.

With that in mind, I think there are a lot of movies that might be better served by being dog stories. I mean, "The Shawshank Redemption" is one of my favorite movies of all time, but I'd also sit through "The Shawshank Rottweiler". Tunneling his way to freedom...in a similar vein, the Steve McQueen movie "Papillon" would be much different if a *real* Papillon starred in it.

I'm not much of a Brad Pitt fan---if he was Brad Pitbull, maybe---but I'd go see "A Rhodesian Ridgeback Runs Through It", and I'd be in the front row for "The Curious Case of Dandie Dinmont". (Likewise, if his beloved had given us "Growl, Interrupted", I might have been more enthused.)

Oh, the classics that could be given a tail-wagging reboot! "Ordinary Pomeranians", "Field of Dalmatians", "Sherlock Hounds", "The French Bulldog Connection", "Dante's Pekinese", "The Silence of the Labs".... I totally want to see "2001: A Shiba Inu Odyssey", and "O Boxer, Where Art Thou".

I've always been a fan of spaghetti westerns---I can hardly wait to watch "The Good, the Bedlington and the Ugly". I can perfectly visualize the poster: the Good is a yellow Lab and the Ugly is a Xoloitzcuintle.

Of course, who can forget that lovely Irish Setter Scarlett O'Hairy at the end of "Gone With the Airedale" as she says, "I'll think about it tomorow. After all, tomorrow is---squirrel?!"

And the Oscar goes to---"Schnauzer's List"! Think that's in bad taste? Two words: Puppy mills. Not a laughing matter.

Cats? You're on your own. The only title that comes to mind is "Stand By Meow".

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Had a guest speaker at church today who was very good. The topic was "June Bugs", and it was a light-hearted talk about how things that "bug" us can keep us from attaining inner peace.

Considering the generally evil mood I've been in of late, it struck home. I have enough heavy-duty shit going on that I shouldn't let myself get so wound up about rotten drivers and sundry superfluous bullshit. *breathe in, breathe out, breathe...*

Why is it that when I'm flipping channels and run across a movie I've seen umpteen times, even if I actually own it on DVD, I'll stop and watch it, commercials and all? It happened twice today. How many times have I seen Flight of the Phoenix (the remake). A bunch. Enough that I've written four fanfics for it. And I *still* get all choked up and dewy-eyed at the ending.

Also came across Jumpin' Jack Flash, 1986, Whoopie Goldberg's first film...and had a shitstorm of nostalgia about the first time I saw it. 1986 was the year after my dad died...I was between jobs, with money to fall back on, and one fine day, I showed up at Susie's around noon, and somehow, she talked me into doing Southern Comfort shots with her. Between that and a few puffs, pretty soon we were feeling no pain.

We both liked Whoopie from her HBO specials, and we wanted to see her movie, but we were sane enough to realize we shouldn't be driving. So we called Susie's mom and promised to pay her way and buy her lunch afterward if she'd drive us to the theater.

I was entertained. When we got out, we went to Susie's mom's favorite restaurant, a Chinese joint called the Rickshaw, which has since closed, alas. They did an excellent egg foo yung, and ours had just gotten to the table when Susie turned green and bolted from the restaurant. Her mother and I enjoyed our meals while Susie took refuge in the car, occasionally yarking out onto the asphalt. I was fine, but then, I had eight inches and about fifty pounts on her.

She had a job a year or so later, showing model homes in a ritzy new development. She got bounced because she kept a bottle of Bailey's in her desk, she *said* to offer guests. (Which even then I thought was a crummy excuse: All the customer would need to renege on a deal would be to say the saleswoman got them drunk....) Bailey's in her coffee was a favorite, but her alcohol dependence didn't surface for another couple of decades, and by then, it was mixed up with hormones (from going through the change), digestive problems from TWO gastric bypass surgeries (she ate her way back up after the first one), and a massive Ambien habit (which is why everyone was sure she'd OD'ed). And because she was such a special snowflake, Susie never thought she had a problem; there was always someone or something else to blame for her difficulties.

Oh, the pet peeves I could list about Susie! But what good would it do? How does that old proverb go? "Of the dead, speak only what was good."? Something along those lines. Much easier to do with an angel like Kat, whose death wasn't unexpected; the issues were all resolved, and besides, she was an angel.

Susie's death was sudden; nothing was resolved, and she was surely no angel. Still, she was smart and funny and could be generous. If everyone creates their own heaven, I imagine her zooming down the road to the Florida Keys in a convertable with the top down. She's wearing a flirty little tropical print sundress. Jimmy Buffet is blasting on the stereo, and the car is populated with all the dogs she loved: Macs and Stormy and Mariah and Grover that I know of. The dogs all lean out the windows, eagerly sniffing the sea breeze, Whereever Susie is, I really hope she's at peace.

Was out all day at a doggy event with J. A new animal wellness clinic was baving an open house. Per her orders, I was there at 8AM to stake out a good spot in the shade...J didn't show for another five minutes, and when she did, she had her useless friend with her.

They go back a long time, which is admirable, but I don't like her, if for no other reason than her snide comments. She gets in the way, then when I step back, comments about how she's doing all the work while other people (meaning me) are sitting on their ass. This conveniently overlooks the fact that she departs midway through the event to take her offspring to his music lesson---meaning J and I have to do tear-down by ourselves.

But hey, the up side to it was, J took me out for barbecue; I got enough of a doggy bag for brunch tomorrow. Then we went back to her place and saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One. God, that was LONG. Longer than the book, which I found interminable. At just under 2.5 hours, it felt like 3.5---I hope the final one is more digestable.

Also picked up an interesting factoid...at the event, another friend of J's, this one somebody she knows from dog training, asked her if they'd ever found out what her mom died of. As it turns out, it was *not* an OD, which I think we were all fairly well convinced it was. No, it was fatty liver disease. I'd never heard of it, but a quick look at Wikipedia confirms that she had a couple conditions that would've put her at risk. And yet, she had no symptoms, and none of the tests done during multiple hospitalizations for other complaints ever showed anything.

Now that she's gone, I find myself remembering Susie as she used to be, and wishing I could talk to her, the rational her. I feel like death should have hit the reset button, and she should have defaulted to the witty and wonderful friend she was for so many years. I know, it doesn't work like that, and even if it did, there were plenty of times when "I Used to Love Her, But I Had to Kill Her" was my theme song for her. I still miss her, though.

Okay, now I'm going to crawl into bed. I may or may not blow off church in the morning, because I'm knackered, and I'd *really* like to sleep in.
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I got my act together and wrote a little something this afternoon. Given that it's been two months since I last spawned anything, yay! Go, me! (Now if I could just get some flippin' comments....)

Except for season one, I've done a coda for every SPN season finale. (And since I didn't start watching until 2.1, that's understandable, yes?) This year, it's a quickie attempting to resolve what was set up in the last few minutes. Other seasons have been more in depth, often crack, but this year, I don't have a whole lot invested. Too damn much agita and heartbreak.

Last night, I DVR'ed Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan. Haven't seen it in a few years, and evewn now, it's on in the other room and I'm listening to it. (J would be coming unglued.) I've seen it numerous times---like four or five times at the theater, and a few more when it was on HBO back in the day.

Off to bed when it's over.... *yawn*
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The other day, Publix had some energy drinks on sale, brand name "Power Trip"---I don't usually do energy drinks, but given the week I was having, I snagged a couple just in case. Didn't get around to trying them then, thanks to a/c at J's to help keep me perky.

Today, though, I could take a siesta with very little encouragement. Except that would undo the good work of the last week, resetting my sleep schedule. So to counter the 4PM fade, I cracked one of them. It's Mmmango flavored and has definitely cut through the worst of the cobwebs. Good shit, must get more.

The week with J was a challenge. The big things, like getting up and going back and forth, were a stretch, but it was the other stuff that made me glad the week is over: the less-than-comfortable chair I was in, her choice of background noise, the difference between her definition of a tantrum and mine (Seriously, I barely cranked it to 'rant', let alone full-on tantrum.) and the fact that me being on the computer with a movie playing on TV is apparently NOT done in her presence.

Usually the TV is on in another room---I consider myself very lucky when they're both in the same place at the same time. But then, I've also routinely crafted during prime-time for ages. Apparently, though, less-than-total concentration on the movie sets J off. Who knew?

Got somewhat caught up on Harry Potter: I hadn't seen "Order of the Phoenix" or "The Half-Blood Prince"...funny, considering in the early days, I saw the first couple films on Opening Day (at the midnight show). Meh. I tend to be annoyed by gaps---I know they have to leave bits out, but what's left sometimes seems rather fragmentary.

Oh why did Ahab have to turn into such an asshat? Right now, I'd *love* to be able to float in his pool til sundown.
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OMG, Justifiedseason finale!!! This is going to leave a big old gaping hole in my Wednesday nights, at least until Sons of Anarchy comes back on. (Or was that Tuesdays?) Anyway, it was a great hour of TV, and I don't think it's a spoiler to say Margo Martindale deserves an Emmy. Srsly.

Last night, I watched Death Race, which I ended up liking a lot. (Enough that I started it over at the end to catch the first bit which I'd missed and ended up leaving it on in the background the whole way through. Jason Statham's character was called "Frank" (short for Frankenstein) throughout most of the movie, and it wasn't until the end that I found out his name was Jensen.

Which of course threw me into a "what if" AU where it was Jensen Ackles instead of Jensen Ames and his toughest competition wasn't Machine Gun Joe but Machine Gun Jared. Much as I love Ian McShane (one of the things that lured me in, in fact!), I could see Jim Beaver doing a great job as Coach. Yeah, definite possibilites there...not that I'm likely to write it. Nothing is moving my muse these days.

T has given J Susie's computer(s). I'm going over there tomorrow to do a little pillaging and plundering of the terrabytes of stuff she's got. One of the things we're hoping to excavate eventually is her inventory of ceramics molds. There are FIVE ginormous hard-drives attached to this beast, so a certain amount of spelunking is involved.

And so it goes....
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I slept for seven hours last night AND caught an afternpon nap when I got home from church. Bed, sweet bed, how I love you! You are not too firm, not too soft, you are Just Right. And you are a platform bed, so you are nice and tall and I don't moan and groan trying to climb out of you.

Today at church, we had the Flower Communion. I got several lovely flowers to take home with me; they're in a vessel on my coffee table, which looks pleasant. It's a nice contrast to previous years, when I was hard-pressed to find anywhere to put a vase.

And score one less box o'stuff for me, I gave an egg carton full of soaps, shampoos and conditioners to SA, who has contacts with one of the local help-the-homeless groups. She'll see that it goes to a good home, and I'll get it out of my bathroom/living room/trunk of my car.

Tuned in to "Lost Boys" after my nap...I've always liked that movie. I'd forgotten how pretty Kiefer Sutherland used to be. Pretty doesn't always age well, but he's held up fairly well.

Lots to do tomorrow---food bank with Mb, dog calls for J, etc. Busy, busy....

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It's too bad that F/X's Lights Out, a boxing drama set in beautiful Bayonne, NJ, was cancelled. It had an awesome cast---the hero was the detective in Blood Ties+ and his dad/trainer was Stacy Keach. Not a lot of big names---the only really noteworthy guest-star was David Morse as an over-the-hill fighter---but a helluva lot of talent.

But if it HAD to go, at least they gave it a finale that lived up to the rest of the saga. The end was absolutely, painfully right. It was the KEL of all KELs*, and they did it with two simple words. THAT'S real writing! I'm afraid to think of what the levels of angst would've been if they'd done a Season Two.

Lights Out resonated with me for a few different reasons. Stacy Keach, although he's a little long in the tooth thesec days, was quite the hottie back in his Mike Hammer days. I'd gotten into Spillane back during my Bogart phase...to this day, I'm not sure what triggered that. It might've been The Man With Bogart's Face, a late 70s noir-wannabe film. For a couple years, I watched every Bogart film that came on the Late, Late Show.

Even before that, I had a minor "thing" about boxers. Part of that was the Errol Flynn movie, "Gentleman Jim" (I got into Flynn during my first pirate phase, thanks to Swashbuckler**), and it really kicked into overdrive thanks to Robert Conrad, who, after the demise of Black Sheep Squadron, appeared in a short-lived series called Duke Ramsey, about an ex-boxer turned PI to solve the murder of his former trainer. And I liked the Rocky movies. So yeah, I got into Lights Out.

Sorry to hear about the TKO, "Lights" Leary. Fare well.

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+ Except that apparently, the guy in Blood Ties was another actor entirely, my bad.

* KEL = Killer Ending Line, a term coined by karaokegal.

** Swashbuckler, 1976, was a costume drama in which a pirate and a hot-tempered noblewoman join forces to protect Jamaica from a tyrant. It reminds one of PotC: Curse of the Black Pearl in numerous places (or vice versa), but it's still well worth watching. Just take a look at the cast list!

Of course, the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie kicked off my second pirate phase. It also promoted Johnny Depp from the status I'd conferred on him as "that 80s pretty boy with the hair and the attitude" to "OMG, he's hot! And funny! And talented! Who knew?!".
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J took me out to lunch this afternoon, then we sat there and shot the breeze for two solid hours. Dogs, dog training, reality TV and music. She wasn't aware that I like classical music, which surprised me. (The classical music channel is my default setting for background noise.)

Finally, we went back to her place and watched a couple movie: Beverly Hills Chihuahua and Bolt. Cute. Diverting.

I was going to try to whip up dessert to take to church tomorrow, but it's too late now. Plus, I'm trying to figure out what I have ingredients for. It seems like half the recipes I look at have ONE major componant I'm lacking. I have margerine, but it calls for butter. I have soda and powder, but no cream of tartar. Or it wants me to separate eggs. I'm lacking when it comes to buttermilk, coconut flakes and nuts.

On the other hand, I have flour, sugar (brown, white and confectioners), and pounds upon pounds of dried plums. I suspect a cross between gingerbread and fruitcake.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

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The thrifting happened, but as with so many things one wants!wants!wants!, it fell flat. GK was running around doing things with BC and his youngest all morning; it was nearly two when we hit the road.

Did the Rockledge Goodwill first. I was very selective; having just dropped off a shitload of crap, I was in no hurry to get more. My haul, courtesy of GK, was a red and black tribal print tee, a string of beads, a book and a candle-snuffer (The latter is going to church, as the one we had disappeared during a robbery).

GK said she was starving, so next came a side-trip to McD's. From there, we visited the Humane Society thrift, which was closing in ten minutes, and they all but shoved us out the door at the stroke of five.

When I'd dropped off some stuff there a couple weeks ago, I'd spotted a heavy-duty scale at another store, and GK was looking for one for BC*. We went there, but it was gone. GK, BCsDaughter and Bestie had more patience than I; I sat in the van and zoomed through the first 63 pages of my new book, "How Not to Make a Wish", drumming my fingers and wondering what the hell they could possibily find so enthralling in that dump.

We arrived at the Chinese Buffet at the same time as J. (CF was already waiting.) It ended up just being the six of us, very cozy, lots of girl-talk. We talked about GK's travels and our adventures in organizing my place. GK's dogs were a hot topic with J, who would love to get her hands on them to rehabilitate them. A good time was had by all.

Then GK and I, along with BCsDaughter and Bestie, went to the mall and saw Sucker Punch. (Which, incidentally, I think is a crap title, but I confess, I don't know what I'd call it.) OMG! Awesome, amazing, fabulous movie! We discussed it the whole way home, or at least until we dropped BCsDaughter and Bestie off at BCsDaughter's house.

Our final stop of the day was WalMart, where GK picked up a chrome link belt and got me a few perishables and a couple sundries. I have ample canned goods, but lacked a a few things like eggs, fresh bread, a shaker of parmesan, trash bags...and although it wasn't a major need, she also let me get another package of sheet protectors...maybe the package I *thought* I had will turn up---if I ever had them in the first place---but this way, I've GOT them and can work on reducing my 'zine stash some more.

We didn't get everything done that we'd hoped to, but it was a very good visit nonetheless.

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* GK is concerned about BC. I'm not the most observant person; I hadn't noticed that he's walking oddly, or how much fluid he's retaining in his legs (makes me look positively svelte) and based on some internet research she's afraid he's developing pulmonary hypertension. His dad had a heart attack before 40, and other members of the extended family have also had heart problems. He's defensive and denies anything is wrong.
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Ah, the Oscars. I *was* amused by the montage at the beginning of the awards, particularly in light of Friday's thread about Morgan Freeman doing voiceovers. The presenters did an adequate job. I loved Anne Hathaway's elegant white dress. James Franco in red, eh, not so much.

Big cheer for Kirk Douglas, whom I've adored since I was 10 and saw him in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Am happy for Christian Bale; although being so gob-smacked that you forget your wife's name---! Dude, you owe her for that. I'm thinking lots of roses and some serious bling. Javier Bardem scores points for being a JDM look-alike. (I hear he can act, too.)

I'm disappointed that "True Grit" was snubbed by the Oscars. I don't think there was much doubt that The King's Speech was going to get the Best Picture, but SOME recognition, especially for young Hallie Whatsername would've been good. Damn it, westerns are a dying genre; what, we get one maybe every other year? Overlooking a gem like this is the kind of thing that's helping to kill it off, because studios only greenlight projects they think are going to bring in money or prestige. And I *don't* think Cowboys and Aliens is going to be a prestige picture, so let's hope it makes gobs of money.

Am also disappointed that my cataloging of fics hasn't brought about any flurry of reviews. (First typed that as "a fluffy of reviews", there's a Freudian typo for ya! No, damn it, the world does NOT revolve around me.)
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Today has been full. I spent about five hours collecting cans (and picking up a bit around the edges). There's going to be a metric assload of stuff going to the curb on Monday! Which is good, albeit frazzling, as when one bag tipped over in the driveway and a bunch of cans slid under my car. Ended up with two bags in the trunk, three in the backseat and a contractor bag in the passenger seat; I could barely see out the window.

The Universe decided to fuck with me; had a cop get behind me at the first light on the main drag and follow me ALL the way out to the turn-off toward the industrial park. Got stopped at every single goddamn light, all five of them. Sweat bullets, then he kept going west on 524 and I took a deep breath and headed on to the recycling center

I think I set a new personal record: 43.5 pounds of cans, netting me $23.93. If I'd scrounged the bottom of the back seat, I probably could've rounded it up to $24.

Came home, showered, headed to the church for movie night. The original schedule called for "Despicable Me", but the owner of the DVD had loaned it to someone who misplaced it. We ended up watching "Megamind", which I really enjoyed. Hell, I'd get it just for the soundtrack, which was heavy on 80s metal, no pun intended.

Something odd happened while I came home and checked my e-mail---someone knocked on my office window. My first thought was BC; unannounced visits are totally his modus operandi. No, it was Mb and her SO with his service dog, Jazz. (Insert gratuitous Akita shot here)




You may not be aware of it, but thanks to the Americans With Disabilities Act, a service animal can go anywhere a member of the public can go. Apparently the staff of Golden Corral and members of the Palm Bay police department aren't aware of this, because Jazz, SO and Mb were evicted from the restaurant this evening, and per Mb, All Hell is fixing to break loose. They wanted to talk with J, who is something of an authority on this subject. I rang her up on her new iPhone number and they got to talking. There is talk of calling news channels and the local paper about this blatant violation of the ADA and Mb has also left a message for her lawyer.

While SO was detailing the events of the evening, I finally got to unwrap the wall hanging I've been waiting for. I guess I know what I'm going to be busy with tomorrow---putting a backing on it and getting it ready to hang. (At this point, it's a 9"x13" tapestry rectangle.) I can present it to its intended recipient on Sunday, and I will of course snap a pic and post it for you all to see.

They departed, and I went in and watched SPN. God bless the DVR! Highly awesome ep in many ways, although parts of it were very OMG!WTF?!BBQ!!!

In a little bit, I'm going to wander in and watch Blue Bloods.

That's my day.
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Epicurious's Oscar-night menus based on the best picture nominees

Not all the nominees, though. Only The Fighter, Black Swan, and Inception.

Really, I was already anticipating the entree for The King's Speech.



Tongue, of course.

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Spent the evening at J's...she wanted movies, so I showed her a couple 70s favorites, Hopscotch and Scavenger Hunt.

She's trying to repair hr old computer, and inveigled me into doing some soldering for her. Mind you, I haven't soldered in 25+ years, and her equipement was NOT up to par, but I think I got the job done, go me.

Then, on the way home, I got pulled over---my left brake light is allegedly stuck on. I would not be surprised, since electrical peculiarities have been an issue since day one. The cop just told me to look at it when I get a chance, and that was all.

I think it's absolutely hilarious that I've been driving that thing without a functioning speedometer for, like, three years, have gotten pulled over for no light over my license plate, allegedly failing to come to a complete stop, and this---but none of them has ever mentioned my speed. Proof positive that I really DO drive like an old lady!

The hell of it is, if I'd swung by the library to drop off the books I had with me (blonde moment, I forgot all about them), I probably would've missed the cop. Oh well, it might be that something worse would've happened, YNK.

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I spent this afternoon at J's. She requested comedies, and I showed her two of my favorites, neither of which she'd ever seen: In and Out, with Kevin Kline and Tom Selleck, and Oscar, with Sly Stallone and everybody (Big, awesome cast!). Definitely lightened her mood! Good for me, too, because during the movies, I got her dog to join me on the bed (TV is in the bedroom) and he, love sponge that he is, lolled back and let me love on him, very relaxing.

Afterward, I took gwilliondream's advice and did something nice for myself. I stopped in to Fashion Bug on my way to Publix---and I found some jeans! (I've been trying to find some decent jeans for several months---not only did I find a nice dark wash bootcut pair, but they were on clearance. Marked down an additional 20%, they were just under $16. Woohoo, I can haz jeans!!!

Came home, futzed around for a little while, then watched Royal Pains, yay

Tomorrow is movie night at church, Good Night and Good Luck.

Otherwise, the status is quo. Quo far, quo good.

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I finally got to see "True Grit" yesterday and thought it quite excellent. That young lady deserves an Oscar, and Jeff Bridges---well, I've only loved him for about 30 years.

Really good. Exquisite dialog with a precision of language that just blew me away. Kind of reminded me of Boyd Crowder, which is one of the things I love about him.

(Per Amazon, my season one of Justified has shipped---they had it at half-price, $19.99, so I preordered it a while back and am glad I did.)

One reason to carry a large purse---able to fit a bottle of soda, sandwich and a bag of York peppermint patties, thus negating the truly outrageous movie theater prices. $5 for a soda?! I don't freakin' think so!

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"Catch and Release" finally arrived yesterday, a mere two and a half weeks after I ordered it. It showed up in my mailbox in a dead heat with the basic brown microfiber skirt I got off eBay. ($9, including shipping.) Bidding ended Saturday night.

Happyhappy about the skirt. It's a darker brown than the listing pic implied, thankfully---a nice chocolate brown, which will go with a bunch of stuff I've got. (Brown is a better neutral on me than black.) Best of all, it's a 26/28 and it fits!!!

Thursday being the black hole of TV in my schedule, I'm glad the movie is here. Although I'm quite please to find out that ALN is showing "Chicago Hope" reruns. First season, which was before I started watching when it was on network. It's kinda fun seeing Manday Patankin and Thomas Gibson together a full decade before "Criminal Minds". It's on weeknights at 8 and repeats at 11, if anyone else is interested.


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