I get one day off this week, so I will be spending it watching several movies from the library. We started Following Sean which is a followup movie to a documentary filmed in the ’60s about a four year old named Sean who has hippie parents and has the run of the Haight, talking about eating pot and pondering why the police hastle his family so much. The film maker finds Sean 27 years later to see if he turned into a crackhead or an investment banker. I thought I’d enjoy it because I adore the Up Series and this seemed to be similar, but for some reason I’m not all that interested in the ’60s lore. Maybe it’s because my parents pointed out Bealtes songs to me every single time they played on the radio. Maybe it’s because I secretly resent baby boomers. In any case, I wasn’t digging this film. So now we are watching The Great Ziegfeld with William Powell and Myrna Loy. Or so I’ve been told… We’re about two hours into this three-plus hour film and we have yet to see the fabulous Myrna Loy, so I don’t see how she get’s second billing after Mr. Powell. I keep asking Linsey to fast forward and find me some Myrna, but she just ignores my pleas. Oh, wait, she just came on, and she’s blond. WTF… Don’t mess with a classic, people! I forgive them because Powell and Loy have such great chemistry together.
The films we will be watching tomorrow are Sicko, Of Human Bondage, My Mother’s Castle, Time to Leave, and The History Boys.
I better win a prize for this.
I promise that after this month I will only write posts of substance, when I am not too tired to think.
Dearest Linsey,
I’m sorry you’re not feeling well tonight, and that the cats won’t leave you alone for two minutes, and that Heather got sent home on ANTM. That really bummed me out, too. There are days where I wonder if I too have Asperger’s or something similar since I’m much more comfortable with my animals than with people. I’m also sorry that I am getting tired of this NaBloPoMo posting. Ten years working at my job has caused all of my creative juices to ooze out of my ear, and I think I saw Harlow licking them up earlier.
I hope that I can help you realize all of your wishes and dreams. That would make me the happiest.
Love, Janie
This is me and my friend’s daughter over a decade ago. The one-year-old above is now a loving and caring eleven-year-old who is turning more into a teenager each time I see her, but who never fails to warm my heart. She is the reason I want to have kids. People used to ask, “So, when are you having one?” I’d gesture to Chloe and say, “When this one’s old enough to babysit.” So get ready, Chloe: you owe Auntie Janie at least four years of babysitting. Add to that the years of putting up with your mother and we’ll be even (love you, Shanaynay!).
Here are some pictures I wanted to share with you because they make me smile. These were all taken in April of 2001, my last trip abroad.
This is a castle in Alacante, Spain. Don’t ask me what it’s called because I don’t remember:
We followed this road through the windy streets of the town and up through the trees until the path stopped abruptly, with no way to get up to the castle. We ended up climbing up this hill and literally scaling the walls to get in. It turned out there was an elevator that brought you to the castle from street level, and that is where you pay your entrance fee. No one seemed to care that we totally broke their castle’s defenses.
This is Shaelah pretending to pose for a picture, when in reality we were trying to get a picture of these hot (H-O-T) security guards:
They’re standing in that doorway to the left. We were tempted to break some of the artwork displayed so they would have to arrest and hopefully frisk us, but common sense (maybe-getting-arrested-in-a-foreign-country-isn’t-such-a-good-idea-no-matter-how-
hot-those-ladies-are) won out in the end.
This is one of the wild monkeys of Gibraltar:
Two minutes later, this cute little guy ran over and bit some little blond girl out of nowhere. In the monkey’s defense, the little blond girl was really fucking annoying, and if the monkey hadn’t bitten her, I would have.
Here is one of my favorite pictures from Tangier, Morocco:
We were greeted by rich, beautiful colors at every turn, which contrasted nicely with the different shades of beige painted on most buildings.
- She is passed out in the neighbors garden, capping off weekend-long bender
- She’s still eating her way through the Thanksgiving turkey
- She’s watching her stories
- She changed her name and is now involved in an illegal kitten smuggling ring
- She’s decided to take on the added responsibility of a second job to make some money for the holidays and is working the night shift at the Lusty Lady
Here are the highlights of my day at work:
1) When that borderline crazy lady studied me for a moment before telling me, “Oh, your hair looks really good again!” Apparently it was looking pretty sorry before my last cut.
2) That guy at computer #10, who I caught watching me with his finger up his nose exactly four times. Now that’s hot.
3) When I tripped over that little mat behind the desk everytime I walked by, even though I’ve been working with that mat there for four years.
Not a bad day.
So today is the day after Thanksgiving, and quite a few people (read: everyone I know) had today off so they could lie about on the floor and nurse their hangovers. Not me. Sure, the City officially had the day off, but did the City Library? No-o-o-o-o-o <insert whiny voice here>. We had to open. And even worse? People came to the library. WTF? Who has an extra day off and thinks, “Hey, maybe I should go spend this beautiful day off at my local library, where it smells and the staff all look hungover.” Behind my smiles and “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”s lurked barely concealed contempt for each and every person who walked in those doors. Yes, Bicycle Helmet Guy, I’m talking about you.
We just had a lovely Thanksgiving dinner cooked by Linsey and myself, and I must say it was quite a success. I did almost lose it when I was trying to do some dishes but five or six people were standing between me, the dishes and the dishwasher. I might have snapped at my mother-in-law, but I’m not sure. Otherwise, we had a really good time.
I am thankful for many things, including my three cats, my health, my wonderful friends and family, and of course my lady. She makes my days brighter and my nights snuggly-er.
Janie is slaving away, making a super special secret recipe known only as “pink salad” because it’s pink, and in my family, if it’s in a bowl, it’s a salad.
We’re having Thanksgiving dinner at our house tomorrow, and this is the first holiday meal that we’ve hosted. If Janie has her way, it will also be the last. Because who needs the stress? Not Janie. No way. She doesn’t have time for this…because she has so much more to do, like sleep and each goat cheese and watch football and then maybe sleep some more.
After she makes the pink salad, I’m going to make cranberry sauce. Then I’m going to peel carrots and potatoes in preparation for tomorrow. Then I’m going to go upstairs and knock on my neighbors door. When they answer I’m going to tie their legs together so they have to crawl around their house because I can’t take the stomping around up there. The stomping! OH THE STOMPING!
It’s getting to me. I actually wished in my mind that they might die because then - no stomping. I’m not proud of that. I took it back real quick. But maybe I wish their little dog would eat their feet. I don’t feel bad about that - because the stomping would stop and then the dog would likely be given away and that would eliminate the howling. The howling only happens when the stomping has stopped because the stompers have gone away. When the stompers go away, the howler gets to howling. ALL. FUCKING. DAY.
Shh…listen. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
God damn!
Anyhoo. Thanksgiving.
I’m grateful for many things. For the days off. For sleeping in. For my wife who lies about bringing me take-out.
You know what I’m not grateful for? THOSE MOTHERFUCKING STOMPERS UPSTAIRS.
Love,
Linsey