DWTS: the ending

Well, what am I going to watch on Monday and Tuesday nights now? So, you've all probably heard already that Helio and Julianne won the coveted Dancing With the Stars mirrorball trophy last night. I keep hoping that they'll come out with some vote-tallying error and declare Mel B. the actual winner. I thought she and Maks were the best team, but how do you compete with Julianne's choreography and Helio's winning ... smile. But that's neither here nor there, because at least Marie Osmond didn't win. Her getting booted at the beginning of the show allowed me to believe again in the idea that perhaps this was more of a dance competition than a popularity contest after all. Good for her for making it as far as she did, but please sit down and let the better dancers play.
So ... when does season 6 start?

Peeps vs. Twinkies

Sure, I often criticize the state of our country; it's my right and duty as an American. But I will also holler from the rafters about all the beauties of this land, and all the little things that make it the best place in the world, and all the brilliance behind every cool American thing in the universe.
This weekend, I discovered another such amazing invention from the homeland: the Christmas tree Peep. It's just too cool-looking, don't you think? The only thing that rivals the Peep's simplicity, cuteness and oddly compelling taste is the minimal price tag. I got a whole package of these little champs for 99 cents. Holiday bargains don't come any better than that, my friends.
Also, on a different, but slightly related (because it's a sugar product) note, the banana-flavored, cream-filled Twinkies were tossed out this morning. Daddy told me about these horrendous snack cakes a couple weeks ago, and they too were at Target this weekend. Brian picked up a box to try them, though I believe it was more to gross me out. He bit into one last night; I kept my mouth shut when the awful stench of banana filtered through my house; and thankfully, the damn things taste as bad as they smell, because Brian threw away the second half of the cake he bit into, and I was allowed to throw the rest away in this morning's trash. Why, oh why, would someone wish to stain the beauty of a Hostess cake by filling it with banana flavoring?
Well, at least there is the Christmas tree Peep. So I guess the snack-food world isn't a total loss.

Snug as a bug

At baby play class, there is a sheepskin or two for the kids to play on when rolling around on the floor or going down slides. Sydney loves this sheepskin; she cuddles up into it and rolls around on it because it's nice and soft. When Katy and I took Sydney shopping a couple weeks ago, we came upon a similar thing, a small, square blanket of sorts in the shape of a lambskin rug. It's really very cute: it folds into the shape of a standing lamb and can be velcroed together, making the rug an all-purpose stuffed animal, too. Sydney likes the rug well enough, I guess, though it doesn't get half the attention the rugs at play class get. This was a bit disappointing. But as it always happens, even if one baby in the family won't embrace a new toy, the other baby might. Here's Ollie on the rug he has claimed for himself. I'm so glad that someone will love the nifty lambskin rug!

He was just too distracting

I've been kinda not sure about seeing the newest version of Hairspray, simply because I love the Ricki Lake and Divine movie so much. But I also love musicals a whole lot, and I knew that I would have to check this one out eventually. I'm sorry to say that I would have been happier having not seen it. I mean, the movie itself was good, and the girl who played Tracy was so pretty, but I just could not get past the fact that, yes, that was John Travolta in drag. Every time he spoke, every time he moved, every time he walked into the frame, I was assaulted with the absolute knowledge that this was John Travolta in drag. Something like that pulls you from the movie experience in a heartbeat. That is not how a movie is supposed to be viewed. It bugged me, and I just couldn't get by it. Am I alone in this? I can't imagine anyone else could watch the film and not be smacked with Travolta every time he was on screen.

Kinda like the mall in Paramus

Here's the promo text for tomorrow's episode of The Tyra Banks Show: "Trading Faces -- In her latest social experiment, Tyra goes undercover with some extremely unattractive features... ." And then we see Tyra, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, hair in a curly mullet, thick eyebrows, and the ever-popular hillbilly teeth.
I know! We're all supposed to gasp, turn our heads and say things like, "Oh my! Look how ugly Tyra can be!" Then she'll wander around some shops, along some streets and into a restaurant or two, and make a big deal about how differently she's treated when she's dressed up all ugly.
Are you as insulted by this as I? So this is what Tyra thinks of ugly girls. She'd be all, "Girls, be true to yourselves and be happy with your own special kind of beauty," ... as long as you don't wear jeans, have a mullet, or sport some messed up teeth. You girls are ugly and will be gawked at walking down the streets of Manhattan.
I'm reminded of Tyra's fat girl experiment, and begin to wonder. I think Tyra proposes these "experiments" simply to boost her own self esteem, rather than her cover story to catch the world at its own looks-matter-so-much game. I mean, think about it, she gets to go out, be totally ridiculed, ignored, or treated badly because she's "ugly" or "fat," and then gets to come home, remove her ugliness, and sit back with a glass of wine and the snuggly thought, "Thank god, I'm beautiful. Those ugly and fat girls have got it bad."

Bring on the chill

I try really hard to not bitch too much about the weather out here, since, after all, it was our decision to move here from Boston last year. But, come on. It's past the mid point of November, and we're still reaching the 80s during the day. It's supposed to be 87 degrees tomorrow afternoon! This is beyond tolerance. I'm so over it.
I'll say it: I miss the cold. Yeah, I remember complaining about how cold it is out there in New England. I remember thinking that it would never warm up. But I also remember that one autumn morning when you know that the hot, muggy days are over, and the cool, crisp days of fall and winter are on their way. We haven't had that day here yet, and I'm getting tired of waiting for it. It's nice enough outside at night, I guess, dropping down into the low 60s and the occasional 50-something. (I'm so missing my flannel sheets though.) But a slight chill in the air at night just doesn't cut it when we still have the air conditioner on throughout the afternoon.

In the morning!

What kind of a person knocks on a random apartment door to ask the location of another apartment door at 4:20 a.m.? Whoever that person is, they were at my door this morning at that precise time. I remember Oliver jumping off the bed and barking. I looked at the clock. I remember Brian saying to me, "Was that a knock at the door?" and him getting up and going to the kitchen window, which looks out to the front door. He came back and said, "It was a girl looking for a different apartment. She wanted to know if I knew where it was." Brian assumes she was a hooker. I assume nothing except that the girl is clearly illiterate of numbers since she couldn't find one apartment so knocked on a different one. And at that time of the morning? Ridiculous! I find the entire event stunning. I'm really still in shock that someone has that kind of audacity. If it hadn't happened to me, I would have a hard time believing it.

Beach - sand = cool plane picture

Here's a really cool thing: This is a photo taken by a kite-suspended camera above a newly discovered World War II fighter plane submerged on a beach off the Welsh coast. The two people standing aside it are historical aircraft specialists. This American P-38 aircraft had made an emergency landing in 1942 after it ran out of gas, and was buried under water and sand for 65 years. It was revealed by beach erosion in July. Experts hope to recover the plane for a British military museum.
The interesting thing here is that it was revealed by beach erosion. No doubt some doofus will say that that occurrence is a coincidence of nature, but I see it as another consequence of global warming. Beach erosion, my friends, is not a good thing, no matter how much important history is revealed. Do they see the ultimate tragedy behind the events leading up to this discovery?
All the same though, that is really cool looking.

Sexy is as sexy does

Does anyone really care about People's Sexiest Man Alive? Seriously, I can't believe that the magazine is still taking part in this silly exercise. It was stupid however many years ago when they chose their first Sexiest Man, I think it was Mel Gibson. And it continued to be stupid over the last few years, when the magazine actually recycled a few Sexiest men, including Brad Pitt and George Clooney, who were given the title twice.
While I would never begrudge Matt Damon this year's title, since he kinda deserves it based on the Bourne movies alone, I will say that the practice seems awfully archaic this time around. So much so that when the article came out announcing the honor bestowed upon him this morning, the first thought I had was, "Wow. They're still doing that?"
There comes a point in every magazine's life when it simply must change the way it does things. What does it use as a model of male sexiness upon which to measure these guys as the "Sexiest"? I can probably guess how it picks the Man, too. "Who's Sexy this year, everyone? Put your suggestions in the hat. We'll go with whoever has the most votes."

It's about the better dancer, isn't it?

I bought a copy of Ocean's 13 yesterday for Brian and I to watch last night. If you'll remember, when the movie was out in theaters, we attempted to see it in a drive-in, and bring our little baby along so she could "sleep" while we enjoyed the film. The attempt failed. At any rate, my viewing of the film last night felt like it was a brand new movie. I was able to giggle, follow along with the dialogue, and appreciate the intricacy of the plot. Unfortunately, the visual enjoyment of the film was marred by the bad quality of the DVD's picture. It was weird, especially since the previews were sharp and colorful, that the movie itself was more like a colored negative, with pixelated and blurred lines, and that odd shading you get with bad digital photography. I'll be heading back to the store today to get a replacement movie, and then maybe I'll be able to get a decent viewing.
I'll tell you, I'm irritated with the DWTS voting. Marie Osmond needs to be voted off the show, people. This is a dance competition, not a popularity contest. I'll say it: Cameron Mathison was a better dancer and should have been left alone until next week, at least. C'mon everyone! I'd hate to have to boycott this ridiculous guilty pleasure of mine just because no one else in the world will take it seriously.

Mel B. wins it all

Since I clearly can not count on the rest of you all to have the same sense that I do when it comes to celebrities in ridiculous outfits performing dance on live television, I went ahead and voted for Dancing with the Stars tonight. I really have Brian's friend, Dave, to thank for it, since he called while B and I were watching Heroes, and I paused the show so they could talk and thereby got to watch DWTS. And with that, I got to watch some dancing and thereby sail into my virtual voting booth with some knowledge in my head as to who should win this thing.
And it will be Mel B. who walks away with the disco ball trophy. Barring any crazy dance-related meltdowns, she'll be the celebrity who takes it to the end. She'll also be the first celebrity female to win since the first season. And she deserves it, quite frankly. She rocks this competition.

He misspells his name, too

We're watching Sunday Night Football on NBC right now. It's halftime, so Bob Costas and Cris Collinsworth are talking to me. I'll add another person/celebrity to the list of those that bug me: Cris Collinsworth. This guy is only on my radar because of Brian's love of football coverage, but every time I see his smugly irritating face I wince a bit, squint so he takes up less space in my eyes, and try to zone out so I don't even have to hear his voice. He just comes off as one of those holier-than-thou, so-much-better-than-you, I-know-everything guys, and tends to smirk into the camera like it's all a fact that the rest of us know, too.

Be quiet, you hooligans!

I would say that I feel like Brian and I are officially fuddy-duddies, but the more time I spend on it, the more I realize that no, we're just grown-ups with a baby.
We submitted an official complaint to our apartment management about the kids downstairs and the party that they hosted last night. They were up until well after three in the morning, out on their balcony, smoking, playing music and talking loudly. I don't do being awakened at 2:30 a.m. to the smell of cigarettes wafting into my room, and finding my husband awake watching television because the people downstairs are being too noisy. You know what? I am that woman now. I complain. And the kids will get a 10-day compliance or be evicted notice. I'm all for that. They've been irritating as hell since they moved in.
Tonight, I plan on getting some good, real sleep. And with a blanket over me, too, since it's finally getting kinda chilly here.

The first Christmas post of the year

I've already fallen victim to the frivolity of the season. I'm all, "I'm not gonna buy anything for Christmas decorations. I'm all full up." So far, on November 9, I've bought a new days of December countdown thing for a wall somewhere; Christmas towels that Brian decided we should have in our bathroom; and a new tree skirt that matches our stockings. Next on my list is additional pieces to finish up Sydney's 'Tis the Season bedding at Pottery Barn Kids (pictured is the toddler bed set; Sydney's got the crib stuff). The child simply must have a twin quilt and the decorative sham to finish up the room's look. I'm going to buy it in the actual store though, rather than on the web site, so I can take the time to check it out and then not pay shipping.
At any rate, I think it's safe to say that the insanity has begun, and that I'm in it for the long haul. I'm hoping that, even though Christmas is going to be extremely different and maybe a bit depressing this year, no one outside the person in my head will be able to tell the difference from any other year. My plans are percolating in my head; I'm excited about decorating in new and fantastic ways; and it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ... everywhere you go.

Turkeys aplenty

If I learned one thing about my Thanksgiving decorations, it's that I really enjoy the turkeyness of the holiday. Sure, I've got the random Pilgrim thing to set here and there, but when it comes down to a real theme associated with that particular Thursday, it's the turkeys. And I know that if I'm a bit shocked and surprised by it, you certainly would be as well.
So I guess my question to myself would be, how can you love the turkey so much, but then go ahead and feast on it. Hmmm. In thinking about it, I would answer that I think it's the caricature of the turkey that amuses me so much. The bird itself ... well, eh. I dig that I can buy a pretend turkey that will make a ridiculous gobble noise. I like that a company can make a cute turkey stuffed animal that might hop around a bit. I like that I can buy a Pluto dressed as a turkey. And I love my art-deco turkey. It rocks.

The geese know which way to go

So it's been a busy few days out here in California. I could go through each day and tell you what we did, but really, do you seriously care that much? Highlights include dinner with Lisa, Sydney's birthday party, a random and of-the-moment trip to Disneyland, and just hanging out with friends and family. But tomorrow morning we head back to Arizona, where Brian and Oliver anxiously await our return. We miss them, too, and I'm looking forward to being home. On the whole, it's been a fantastic weekend, and we've had such a great time.
DWTS: I think Jane Seymour is going home tonight, if there is any justice in the world. Yes, elegant, yes, classy. Able to maintain a competitive edge with the other stars? Not so much. And Marie Osmond should be ousted next week. Then, perhaps, either Jennie Garth, Cameron Mathison or Helio Castraneves (sp?). I think Mel B. is going to be taking that trophy home. Sabrina was her closest competition, and she's gone, so this is only Mel B.'s to lose.

West is, you know, towards California

I have no idea how long it's been since I did not take down all my Halloween decorations on November 1. I would guess, conservatively, it's been about five or six years. Today marks a broken streak, my friends. Here it is, the evening of the 1st, and I have no plans to take down the ghosts, witches, jack-o-lanterns and skeletons. I'm too tired, I've already got a lot to do tonight, and I won't be home for five days to stare at the stuff. Now, if it's all not down by late afternoon on Nov. 8, I'll be concerned, because after all, then we'll be in the midst of the Turkey month and I won't have put out my turkey decorations yet. That would be a problem.
Anyway, Sydney is mostly packed for our trip, and her bags are mostly ready to go in the car. Me? Well, that's another story. I've got a smattering of clothes on the bed, and an idea of what else needs to go with me, but really, I'm super behind the ball on this one. If I get out of the house on time tomorrow morning, I'll be the happiest camper on the 10 freeway heading west.

Nonsensical blather

Yay November! Turkey Day is a few weeks away, and yes, Christmas is next month! This year has flown by so quickly, I would almost demand a recount, but considering everything that has happened in the last year, it certainly feels like it's be a hell of a year. Did that make any sense at all? I'm thinking no.
Anyway, Sydney and I are off to California tomorrow morning. We've got a full agenda, which includes another birthday party for the kid, visits with friends and family, and maybe, just maybe, another trip to Disneyland. (We simply must use those Costco tickets before they expire on Nov. 13.)
Other than that, it's been a slow couple of days, since Sydney's fighting a cold, I'm fighting the potential for a cold, and there's just so much to do before we leave tomorrow that I'm artfully avoiding most everything I should be accomplishing. Slacker, thy name is Kimmie.