I'm sick, people. WAAAHHHHH.
I am usually a pretty good sickie, if I do say so myself. But this time is frustrating. Because I sort of feel ok as I sit and watch Hallmark Original Movies in a long, unending loop. Just a sore throat, really. But then I get up to put in a load of laundry or try and vacuum and I feel like I have just run a few miles and I either need to take a nap or faint or something. So, I just have to sit. And sit. And sit some more. It's now Day Two and I am bored out of my everloving gourd.
Did you guys hear that Kirkus Reviews is closing down? My library colleagues and I are all abuzz about it, because even though Kirkus reviewers are haughty and crotchety and scary to authors, we use them a lot. I wrote a short story in an anthology once, and the crowning achievement of the whole experience was that the Kirkus review for the book called the entire book the equivalent of maggoty goat turds, but singled my story out as being less maggot-filled than the rest. From Kirkus, that was like a four-star review.
Does anyone think it's kind of cheating when mascara commercials show models who are obviously wearing fake eyelashes? Are fake eyelashes so ubiquitous that they are just a given? I think it's cheaty advertising.
One thing that I can get going on today is my holiday cards. I always feel a little chagrined about my holiday cards, to tell the truth, and I have decided to stop that shit this year. The story is that I really do cards mainly for my relatives overseas, who have not seen me for years (and some of whom have not seen Nordic Boy ever). Because of this, my cards are always photo cards. I choose a photo or set of photos of us from throughout the year and make a card out of them and that way my family can see how we grow and change each year. For instance, this year, my cards have a photo from each season, so I can tell my relatives about the snowstorm in January and the Chicago trip in July, etc. Most of my relatives do not have computers, let alone Facebook or email addresses for me to send photos of us, so the holiday card is kind of important to me for that reason. So in past years, I used to order up those holiday cards for family, and then get another non-photo set for friends and family in the States. That got to be too much of a hassle and so for the past few years I have done just the photo cards.
Here's the thing. I don't know if you are aware, but there are some people who think it's weird that people such as us send out photo cards. It's like, looked upon as megalomanical in a Tyra Banks self-referential sort of way, or something. The first year I did this, someone said thanks for the card, and that they found it interesting that we sent out photos of ourselves. They said it in a non-assholey way, but it made me think. And when some other people said similar things, it made me think some more. And you know what I think it is? I think that the only way that (some, not all) people really want to see photos of you in that context is (a) if you have children and the photos are of them, or you with them, or (b) if you just got married and your photo is of you at your wedding or honeymoon or something, or (c) if you have done something worthy of photo-documentation, such as finishing a marathon, or buying a house, or graduating from grad school or something, or (d) if it's of you doing a brag-worthy hobby, like you traveling to Paris or you climbing a mountain or you underwater basketweaving. But you, just living your regular life, with regular happiness and contentedness? BORING. And also borderline Tyra narcissism.
So in the past couple of years, I have found myself making an excuse for the card, whenever anyone received one and thanked me for it, even to those people who weren't even making the "that's so interesting that you did that" sort of comments. "Oh, yeah, you're welcome. I only get those photocards for my overseas relatives, you see, and I know you probably don't need photos of us since you see us every week and everything, but you know, it's just that, um, it's for my relatives, and so, you know..." Which makes me look like a weirdo to the majority of people who weren't even thinking anything bad about the cards, which is a bonus.
Anyhow, this year, I have decided to officially stop feeling weird about the cards. I don't have kids, I don't do underwater basketweaving, I don't run marathons, and I didn't go on a honeymoon. What I did do this year was spend a lot of time with Nordic Boy, and we clocked in another year of being happy, and smiling a lot, and probably looking a bit older than the year before, and that's all the pictures show us doing. If that is boring, then people can be bored. If that makes us Tyra, then oh well. I'm good with that.
Well, maybe not good with being Tyra, exactly. But you know what I mean.
Sicko
"And so I'm offering this simple phrase..."
Nordic Boy: Brrr. It sure is nippley out there today.
Me: Nippy.
Nordic Boy: What?
Me: It's nippy out there, not nippley.
Nordic Boy: Same thing.
Me: No, it's not. Nippy does not refer to nipples. It refers to nipping. Which is like biting.
Nordic Boy: I thought it was nipping. Like, you know, nipping.
Me: No, it's nipping, like a dog nips at your ankles. Or Jack Frost nipping at your nose.
Nordic Boy: Oh. So Jack Frost is not nippling at your nose?
Me: What, like nipple on nose action?
Nordic Boy: It would be such a better song if that were the case.
Me: (groucho impersonation) And don't even get me started on the chestnuts. Is it hot in here or are my chestnuts roasting?
Nordic Boy: Ew.
Me: Listen, you started this whole thing. Don't complain now.
What if I have to talk about the Buttock Zeitgeist?
Words and phrases that I just can't use, either at all or at the very least without rolling my eyes, giggling, or being loaded with sarcasm:
TIA (for "thanks in advance")
return on investment (or even worse, just saying "R.O.I.")
just a heads up
bailiwick
poo-poo (as in, "he poo-poo'ed that idea")
outside the box
win-win
kudos
massaging the data
staycation
webinar
vista
Twihard
buttock (weirdly, this is only true of the singular. I can say "buttocks" just fine).
zeitgeist
panties
What words bug you?
My Professional Opinion
Are you shocked at how little I talk about books? I am the Pop Culture Librarian, after all. LIBRARIAN. It's right in the title!
Come to think of it, are you shocked that I don't talk about Pop Culture either?
It's like this whole blog is a LIE. A LIE, I tell you!
I don't know why I am trying to whip you all into a mob-style fury directed at me. I just felt enraged, on your behalf, as readers. And also? I realize that using the terms "shocked" and "enraged" is so completely out of proportion to the importance of anything related to this blog, but you know me. I like to ham it up.
Anyway, a couple of people asked me about my mention of A Prairie Tale, by Melissa Gilbert. In response, I give you my goodreads review of it. That's right, I am recycling content from goodreads to blogland. Once again, I am setting the bar as low as low can go.
If you're going to write a celebrity tell-all, this is how it's done, people. The ingredients: a starlet who is born into a show business family and can tell anecdotes about meeting the likes of Groucho Marx and Ann-Margret before turning 10. Also, anecdotes about an affair with Danny Sugerman and Billy Idol doesn't hurt. Throw in a long-term tumultuous relationship with Rob Lowe? Yes, please. Sprinkle with vignettes where one of the guys from the John Hughes Brat Pack makes out with Liza Minnelli (I won't spoil it by telling you who) and a tryst between John Cusack and another 80s star is revealed, and then top it off by a description of a post-9/11 visit from Karl Rove to talk about how the entertainment industry can fight terrorism, and you have WON ME OVER. Nice one, Half Pint.
Thanks, Thanksgiving
As I have noted, I am not a holiday person overall. But a days-off person? I am most definitely a days-off person. Give me a day off and I will celebrate just about anything. Let's make next Monday National Pablo Cruise Day and stay home in honor of it. Who's with me?
You don't know who Pablo Cruise is, do you? Sigh. Youth today. Luckily, you have me here to educate you on these most important matters of state.
On the first day of day-off-ness, Nordic Boy and I did a very strenuous day of sitting on our keisters. It went for hours and hours and it was only interrupted by Nordic Boy making us a bruncheon of grilled cheese and tator tots. Have I ever told you about Nordic Boy's god-given talent for making grilled cheese sandwiches? They are the absolute best thing ever. If he didn't have all of his other fine qualities, I think I might still be with him just based on the cheese grilling prowess. It's that good.
Anyhoo, in the evening we got ourselves together and went over to Delium's house for a proper Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of friends. We contributed a mushroom stuffing type deal to the mix, which we were worried might not turn out ok since it was the first time we tried making it and it was from Martha Stewart and had some crazy mushroom varieties that are not carried at our local co-op from which we shop so we just mixed up some regular old mushrooms and Martha does not take kindly to doing things in a regular old way sometimes. We decided going in that if it sucked, we were going to blame Martha, whereas if it was awesome, we were going to take full credit. Unfair to Martha? Perhaps. But that's ok since she has her humptillion dollars to console herself with.
For the rest of the weekend, I did the following:
1. I went into work for a half day or so which was TORTURE because Nordic Boy was off and I am so not used to leaving the house when he is still there, all pajamafied and cozy. Dang him.
2. Had a whole Thanksgiving dinner gorge-fest all over again with BioGirl and her mom, who is visiting from San Diego and who was all excited that she actually got some use out of her winter coat. Weird Californians.
3. Watched a bunch of movies including Tyson (so not worth the hype), and Volume 1 of the 1960s version of Zatoichi films (nice) and The Great Escape (even better) and Gladiator (eh, it was on tv and we got sucked in) and about 20 minutes of Batman Returns on tv (ouch, Tim Burton, what the heck were you doing?), and The Wrestler (yo, Mickey Rourke is BUSTED UP, you guys), among others.
4. Replaced a bunch of pipes in our laundry room and under our kitchen sink. Now, instead of old decrepit pipes, we have new shiny ones. Hey, it's exciting to us.
5. Read, in its entirety, Prairie Tale by Melissa Gilbert, for which I was truly thankful. I'm not kidding.
