I'm so tired of it all

Britney's in the hospital ... again ... for some well-deserved mental evaluation. I swear, every time I kinda forget that she exists in her sad, little state, she pops up in the pop-culture universe doing something to grab attention again. She had a ten-piece police escort to the hospital. That's a lot of tax-payer money to act as a cab, don't you think? Could she have come up with a more obvious way of getting somewhere? Probably not, even if she had three or four "assistants" working on it.

Sorry dudes, no girls in underpants this year

So there's not going to be a Lingerie Bowl during the Super Bowl halftime this year. I can't tell you how remarkably okay I am with that. It's the little things, I think, that bring out the women's lib-ness in me, and this awful display is one. Who's idea was this anyway? I'm all for entertainment, and I understand that girls in their underwear playing football could be considered entertainment for several people out there, but this is really quite gross. I'm offended. As a chick, I'm offended by this.

Get LOST tomorrow night

I had an idea. Right there, bright and shiny in my head. And now it's gone. Damn.
Having just finished watching the repeat showing of last season's Lost finale, I am super excited about having a television obsession actually on the television tomorrow night. Yay! I was surprised by how much I had forgotten, and ridiculously distracted by the damn little pop-ups that the network had going on and off throughout the show. But on the whole, it was a well-spent two hours.
I had a picture of the Goodyear blimp that I e-mailed from my phone, but unfortunately, the system decided to have a fart and the picture is missing in action. (Actually, I think that was what the bright, shiny idea was: how the Super Bowl is invading our little town.) At any rate, Sydney and I saw the blimp this afternoon; spent a bit of time in more-than-normal traffic going back and forth to Babies 'R Us; got frustrated being stuck behind several rental cars full of people who have no idea where they're going; and the police were called to an event at the bar around the corner last night (Super Bowl party, as told the signs earlier in the day). I'll be pleased when this weekend is over. Because really, not only is it the Super Bowl, but the FBR Open, and a Suns game. Could the organizers not have picked a busier weekend? Maybe we should throw in ASU's homecoming and Spring Training too, huh?

Just a little off the length, please

Most times, after I've cut some significant length off of my hair, I'm energized, excited and happy that I did it. It's weird that this time, having severed about five inches off my 'do last month, I'm having issues with remorse and some sort of odd guilt. I find that in the morning, I'm wishing that I didn't have to deal with all those too-short-to-pull-back locks of hair. I'm irritated by constantly wrapping them behind my ears to keep them out of my way. Just right now, there is one lock tickling my neck, and I wish it would just grow so it could be forced into submission again.
Why did I get it cut? I know that I talked myself into it. Probably more because I was getting bored with just pulling it back; that's no real hair style. As it stands now though, I am keeping the same hair style, just not as neatly. Hair's flying around everywhere.
So how do I keep myself from falling into the same trap next year, when I decide again that my hair's too long? Would someone please just tell me that it's okay to only cut an inch or so off the length? Because then it's not too long for me to handle, and it can still can be pulled back neatly? Why is it all or nothing with me and my hair? Ack! I'm bugged by it!

Tom Brady and Sparky sitting in a tree

How cool is this? That's Tom Brady, quarterback of the New England Patriots, toodling around Arizona State University's Sun Devil Stadium. I know this because that is our campus' main man, Sparky, right there watching over him ... and saying, "Don't mess up, dude. You could end up like Jake Plummer. I've seen it happen. It's ugly."

Denied by gnomes

I kept hoping that if I just thought really good thoughts and kept the lights off, the kitchen gnomes would sneak into my home and do my dishes while I was watching the Screen Actors Guild Awards. Alas, they did not. Instead, the Internets fairies sneaked into the office and messed with our Internets connection. More likely, it was Brian trying to do something fancy, but whatever the cause, he's fixed it. I get so feisty when the Internets isn't working, you know? That's something that should just always work.
Well, as far as awards shows go, the SAG offering pretty much sucked this evening. Highlights: seeing Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie out among the other actors (I like that); Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin being honored; The Office peeps on my TV again; Daniel Day-Lewis' comments about Heath Ledger; and knowing that The Sopranos won't be able to win ever again. Lowlights: old people yammering on for incredible lengths of time (I mean you, Mickey Rooney, especially); no Hugh Laurie speech; and The Sopranos still winning so much. Really, if this is the best that we'll get this award show season, I would rather they had relegated this one to a press conference as well.

Tasha, Uniqua, Tyrone, Pablo and Austin

I think I may have submerged fully into the world of children's television. It's no secret, and in fact I'm proud of it, but I'll admit to mine and Sydney's obsession with Noggin, the no-commercial, 24-hour, for-preschooler television station produced by Nickelodeon. Seriously, there's no commercials, and every show is preceded by a notice telling how exactly the show is educational for our kids. I love it. We've got a few favorites, including Jack's Big Music Show, Maggie and the Ferocious Beast, Little Bill, The Upside Down Show, and The Wonder Pets! and The Backyardigans (the latter two are recorded daily in the DVR for on-demand viewing). I've got a few I don't like at all: Max and Ruby, Lazy Town, Franklin, Little Bear and Oobi. We do not watch them unless we absolutely must, like when nothing else is working and she's about to go nuclear.
But, back to my drowning. Tonight, I downloaded Backyardigans songs onto my iPod for us to listen to in the car. There, I said it. I recognized several of them, got a giggle out of listening to them as I played on iTunes, and eagerly uploaded the tunes into the iPod as soon as I got them on my computer. There, it's out in the open. Brian knows about it, too. I'm excited to play them for her on our way to Gymboree Monday.
Also, I've added the Backyardigans DVDs to our Netflix queue so we can use them for Sydney's DVD player for long trips. These will be more entertaining for us than the Baby Einstein DVDs because there is fun singing and dancing.
I'm drowning in clever children's programming, my peeps. It's so fun!

Chillin' at the p-a-r-k

I swear, my dog doesn't know he's a dog. I think he thinks he's really just a small human on four legs. We all went to the dog park this morning, with the goal of getting Ollie some exercise and some time running around. Also, I knew that it would be fun for all of us to do something together. Anyway, this is my dog at the dog park: staying about 10 feet away from any other dog. Oh, he'd let them sniff him, and occasionally he'd turn around and acknowledge them too, but on the whole, he was very indifferent to all the other four-legged creatures running around the place. Now, this photo is a bit misleading because there's only one other dog in it, but let me tell you, there were no less than 50 dogs in the park. My dog just chose to not play with any of them. For the first 30 minutes we were there, he chose instead to just hang out, sniff plants and rocks, and wander about in the sunshine. Don't get me wrong, that's all good stuff for a kid who lives his life in an apartment, and I feel bad that I don't get him out there more often, it's just that we'd so love it if he would play with the other kids. Brian sees this as the absolute reason why we need a puppy. I see it as a reason why we need to get the dog outside more often.

It's her hair and makeup; they bug me

ITEM!: The Monte Carlo hotel and casino in Las Vegas caught fire today. The top four floors are ablaze in this picture here. (I had my wedding reception there almost seven years ago.) Today though, Brian's sister and brother in-law were guests at the hotel when the fire erupted. They had to evacuate, and have since been put up in The Bellagio. Since they aren't allowed back in for their luggage yet, the Monte Carlo told them to just keep all their receipts and they would be reimbursed for the expenses they incur while out of their own room. Now that's a reason to do some shopping!
ITEM!: Just so you know, the Screen Actors Guild awards are to be televised Sunday night. For those of you jonesing for a glitzy awards show, this could be the only one of the year. Because the SAG and its members have refused to cross picket lines for the Writers Guild, the Guild has allowed its members to write for the actors' award show. And because of this, the SAG awards may well be the only fully sanctioned award show of the year. And because of that, it may be the only well-attended award show. The list of presenters is incredible, the attendees are looking to make some waves, and the entertainment media is literally drooling over the chance to to finally celebrate itself. Be sure to catch the show this Sunday night!
ITEM!: I don't get Amy Winehouse. I've listened to a couple of her songs, and they're okay, but I simply don't understand what the big hullabaloo about her is all about. As far as I can tell, she's just a junkie that's gotten lucky. Best of luck to her in rehab. (Yikes!)
ITEM!: I decided that I've got too much stuff. it's just everywhere, this stuff that I've got, and I'm sick of looking at it. I want to throw it all away. I won't, of course, because I don't just throw stuff away, but I really would like to know how these minimalist people get through their day with so little amount of stuff. I actually unpacked a box today, put most of the contents in a bag for Goodwill, and proceeded to rewrap some of the things to go back in the box. Then I thought, well, stupid, if it's important enough to keep, why isn't important enough to set out? I think that may be my new criteria for stuff. So those pieces will be donated, too, I think. But we'll see. I so hate giving up too much on a whim, you know?

Hopefully, a tragic accident

I was very sorry and sad to hear of the death of Heath Ledger earlier this week. It's so weird how you can feel like you really know a person just because you've watched them grow (not necessarily in age either, but by accomplishments). I remember watching him in 10 Things I Hate About You, and loving him. I think I've seen every one of his movies, if not in their entirety, then in pieces. I was intrigued with him being selected to play Joker in the newest Batman movie, Dark Knight, due out this summer. I did enjoy his performance in Brokeback Mountain, and took heart in the love story between him and Michelle Williams, and the subsequent birth of their daughter. I was depressed to hear that they had broken up last year.
It's always hard to hear about a promising young person losing their life. Every time I hear about one of these kids dying, I always think of my first love, River Phoenix, and how heartbroken I was when he died. But now, with Ledger, I think more of his baby girl, and how he'll never be able to watch her grow older, how he'll not be able to take her to college, or even to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. That's what's more sad to me now.
Ledger's autopsy results were inconclusive, and it will take another week before we know the real reason behind his death. I hope they'll find it's an accident. I'd hate for him to have taken his own life. You know, our maintenance guy was here yesterday, and for whatever reason, brought up Ledger's death. "These celebrities, you know, and their drugs. I guess he just got his money too fast. Didn't know how to handle it." I'm sad that conclusions are reached so quickly based solely on the fact that he was a successful actor. I guess that just the fact that there were pills in his apartment, even though they were legal and prescribed, will always taint his reputation, won't it?

No wonder they waited so long to do this one

Dude, you guys, I just watched one of the most ridiculous movies that I've wasted my time on in a long while. Do not, I repeat, do not, spend an hour and 30 minutes watching Rush Hour 3. You might think it's going to be fun and campy like the first two Rush Hour movies, but it will not be. It will be stupid, it will be annoying, and it will be contrived. It will suck the intelligence straight out of your brain, as if there was an actual hose going from your head into the DVD itself.
We were about 24 minutes into the film when I had had enough. Brian said, "Let's give it another 30 minutes." I said, "In 30 minutes, there will only be 30 minutes left. If we're waiting, then we're in this one for the long haul." And yes, we finished it; a movie so stupid that I'm not even going to waste my brain space finding a photo from the movie to post along with this rant. I wish I hadn't promised to list the "Last five movies I've seen," over in the left column there, so I could forget about this colossal irritation faster.

Update: But then, when I uploaded the post, it looked so bad without any photo that I actually did do a search for images from Rush Hour 3. And now I'm ashamed of these neuroses and that they wouldn't let me slack off on this one post.

Dug it, by the way

Ask me what I accomplished today. Go on, ask me.
I have no idea. I can name off a couple actual activities that I followed through on, but as a whole, my day was spent at home, hanging out. Truthfully, the only time I even left the apartment is when Sydney and I went for a walk, and then when we took Oliver for his walk. So we did get some fresh air and sunshine. I didn't drive anywhere. I didn't talk to anyone but Mom.
Actually, that's not true. I found a company that will shred this huge pile of stuff for me for a minimally offensive price. That makes me happy. Seriously, for a load the size of a banker's box, this place will charge me $5 to take it off my hands. I think that's a sweet deal. Anything to keep me from spending hours on the floor, probably making my back very sore, and possibly burning out my shredder. It was my intention to go through my file cabinet tonight, but instead, I made myself comfortable in front of the DVD player and television and watched Stardust.
You know, the Oscar nominations were announced today. I know, they were! And guess what, I have no idea what the five films up for Best Picture are. Disappointed, are you? Looking for some insight into your Oscar pool? You won't find it here. All I know is that I haven't seen any of the movies that are even considered Oscar hopefuls, and that it's too late to dig through it now for tonight's post. Besides, my new rule is to be in bed, or in the bedroom getting ready for bed, at 10 p.m. every night. I find that by sticking to that rule, I'm not as bitter about getting up in the morning. Amazing, yes? Huzzah!

Button, button, who's got the button?

Look what I did tonight! I know, I know. You're all, big deal, it's a button. But seriously, I'm so inexperienced at doing this kind of stuff that I get the most ridiculous feeling of satisfaction out of completing so meaningless a task. Of course, I still needed some guidance from Brian, who helped me finish it, but the majority of the triumph is mine. I did it. I sewed on a button. My mommy will be so proud when I tell her!

"Drier than a popcorn fart"

For dinner, I ate an entire bowl of popcorn, drank a big glass of milk, and watched football. Aside from the general feeling of nausea that plagues me, it was a pretty good night. Our boys, the Patriots, are going to the Super Bowl with a perfect 18-0 record. And while watching the second game of the day, the Giants and the Green Bay Packers, Brian and I giggled about it being more a contest of "Who gets to lose to the Pats in the Super Bowl."
And the honor goes to the New York Giants, a team led by a quarterback whom I believe to be a whiny baby, and a coach who yells at a kicker for missing a field goal when the kid clearly already feels like absolute crap.
So now the race is on for tickets to the biggest game of the sports year, which also happens to be happening in Glendale, Ariz. this February. Brian tells me that tickets are a bit too expensive for us this year. What a coup it would be to score some for, say, a couple hundred bucks a piece, huh? Anyone got some? We'll take pictures to show you. I promise.

Let's get this year started

I always enjoy January 19. That day (or today, more specifically) seems more of a New Year's Day to me than the first day of January. Because finally, all the holidays are over, people have gotten over Christmas entirely, and for me, my birthday is done so now I can focus on the rest of the year and the rest of the people in my life. January 19 is really pretty liberating for me. Let's call it Independence Day and really let the ridiculous cliches fly.
I did have a great birthday, you know. Plenty of text messages, phone calls and e-mails to commemorate it, and a healthy portion of See's candy to survive it. For those who sent actual birthday cards, you're awesome. Thank you!

Yep, he's gotten all hot

I am recently disturbed by a late-in-life, movie-star crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. How behind the mainstream dreamboat-ogling times am I? But really, I think it has more to do with his last two movies, The Departed, and my recent HBO obsession, Blood Diamond. I remember the first time I saw Blood Diamond, and thought, "Wow. Boy's grown up." And tonight, I happened to catch the movie right at the beginning. Imagine my surprise when I got all girly and giddy at a scene with him in just a bath towel. Weird, huh? I can't tell you how many times I've landed on the film and ended up watching it through to the end in the last few weeks. I think it's the whole bad-boy thing, certainly, but the accent, too, is a bit of a turn on. What to do but continue watching?

Brrr. Chilly!

Hee, hee. So I've got on this pair of jeans that I've had for a really long time. This past summer, they developed a bit of a hole in the knee, and it's grown quite a bit due to my stubbornness in continuing to wear the jeans. Tonight, as I walked across the apartment, I noticed the strangest feeling. I had a draft on my knee ... ... and it was cold! I couldn't believe it! My knee had actually gotten cold from the air blowing through the hole just from the force of my walking! How funny is that!?! I love it when I'm surprised by random stuff! Now these jeans will forever be in my closet, never to be donated or tossed out. They're the draft-on-my-knee jeans!

Baby gifts, baby gifts, baby gifts

It's not that I've forgotten about the births of these babies, it's just that I haven't had the money or brainpower to sit down and buy stuff for each of them. I mean, come on, let's count: Susan and Liam's Peter, John and Heide's Jorie, and Josh and Dawn's Cole. They are soon to be joined by Kerry and Bob's third (April), Alice and Matt's first (March), and Emily and Jon's first (June). So many babies! [Editor's note: Don't any of you ask me about another one. I'm happy with the one angel asleep in the next room. Implying that I should, once again, flirt with insanity is grounds for getting your butt kicked at this point in time.]
But for these little tykes, all it takes is a bit of time trolling the baby sites to see where everyone is registered. I will say this: I have a new appreciation for what a new mom need. However, even knowing all that, I probably will still just get them all pajamas, since those are my favorite things to buy for kids.

Damn. It's 9:02 p.m. I promised myself I'd be done on the computer by 9. Okay, I'm outie.

"And I approve this message..."

ITEM!: The first floral arrangement of 2008 has arrived in my Inbox! There are baby green apples in the vase, and the arrangement itself has yellow orchids and yellow alstromeria, red-trimmed yellow roses (those green things on the orange branches are dates) and there are branches of kumquats.
ITEM!: I saw my first of many political ads this afternoon. Barack Obama was all about telling me how health care needs to be fixed, not just be talked about being fixed. I'll agree with that. I am less than impressed that the race has begun its infestation in Arizona in this manner though. And in all honesty, I had thought I would hear from a Republican candidate first. But I remember too well how invasive, irritating and headache-inducing all the political (mud-slinging or not) ads can be on my little brain when they're all over my television. I hate election years.
ITEM!: I'm somewhat, but not really, surprised to hear about the young actor, Brad Renfro, being found dead in his apartment today. I remember hearing all about his struggles with drinking and drugs. Wasn't he the one who stole the boat?
ITEM!: Should I feel guilty about making a casual wager with Dave about Britney and whether or not she'll live through the year? We figure either drugs or suicide, but with this girl's penchant for idiotic decisions, and now not even having her kids to be normal for, the world is getting darker and darker for my dear Brit. We speculate that she'll be looking for the big Marilyn Monroe death: shrouded in questions, enshrined as young and beautiful, and leaving a legion of fans behind before she could flame out entirely.
[Editor's note: Goodness, how morbid are we this evening? Ack!]
ITEM!: I still have not bought new bedding. I'm having buyer's remorse, certainly, but today was struck by indecision between the teal polka dots and the pink polka dots. I prefer the pink, but think that the teal will make for a more ... gender-neutral ... bedroom. But I can definitely see myself suddenly not caring about that and getting the pink anyway.

Pretty with the flowers, yes?

I keep forgetting that I've got a birthday coming up the end of this week. I'm preoccupied with the excitement of hanging out with Mom, I suppose, but it was weird to look at a calendar and see my name on the square reserved for Friday. (Yes, I include my own birthday on the calendar. You see how easy I make it for him?) And the number I'll be: 35. Yeck. You know what that means? It means I move up into the next age category when it comes to surveys and informational fill-outs. The dreaded "35-44" will now be mine. And that is bothering me in so many ways. I imagine that I'll be getting pretty philosophical as the day approaches, but I will try to not let it get to me too much. It just seems like such a ... drum roll kind of number. ... ... .... .... You know what? Whatever. It's just a number, another multiple of five, another age category. I say, "Get over it, little girl. Deal like the big kids do! At least you won't be getting a Medicare card any time soon."
(Love you Daddy!)

The winner is ... ack. Who cares?

I was going to watch the Golden Globes news conference tonight, but then I discovered that the only network upon which I could was NBC. The problem with that? Um, it was being hosted by Billy Bush, whom I consider to be the ultimate bane of the entertainment world. He's just so irritating. So I got online to check out the winners, and then kinda decided that, well, I didn't really care. I haven't seen hardly any of the movies, thereby ensuring that I wasn't emotionally vested in the outcome; and it's just not as much fun without the red carpet, cheesy speeches and overwhelming self-congratulations that the awards show offers us viewers. Boring. I sure hope the Oscars doesn't go down this way.

I did watch the new show Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles though. I don't know why exactly, but I have been ridiculously eager to see this program. And I'll say that it did not disappoint me. In fact, I've made it a "record all" on the DVR -- a distinction that so many shows wish for. The basic gist is that it takes place after the T2 movie, and before the third Terminator film, but also kind of acts as though that third movie never happened. So we're to forget all about Nick Stahl and Claire Danes (shouldn't be too hard), and be all about this new John, Sarah and Cameron, the good, protective Terminator, which, incidentally, should be quite easy. I'm already loving the whole thing. The second half of the premiere is tomorrow night. Finally! Something I might enjoy as much as Dancing with the Stars to take up Monday night!

Catching ZZZs by midnight

I suppose I should be excited to have an evening all to myself. But much to my dismay, I really don't have any projects that I'd like to accomplish that would require, not only Sydney sleeping, but Brian being out of the house. Yes, Brian's friend, Dave, arrived in town this morning, and the boys are out whooping it up at goodness-knows what kind of bars tonight. I was not made privy to their itinerary. I do, however, know that some sort of strip club will be visited.
As it stands though, right now, I've got my iPod plugged in to iTunes getting it all updated and synced. I've got the television on one of those cable music channels ("The '90s," in case I'm not feeling old enough with my birthday around the corner). I've got about three more sips of iced tea. I guess I could put all my photos in the photo albums, but that just seems so boring. Actually, that's a good project, now that I spend some time thinking about it. Perhaps I'll embark on that one after I'm done here.
Of course, it's also almost 11:30 p.m., and maybe a good night's sleep will do me better. I yawn. Yes, sleeping will be the best activity for me right now.

Bad boys are awesome

I bought 3:10 to Yuma at Best Buy today. I gotta tell you, I love me some Russell Crowe as a bad-ass cowboy. I actually thoroughly enjoyed this movie. And I am not a big fan of the western genre, at all. I guess I didn't really like gladiators either until a few years ago, come to think of it.

I have moved my pile of to-be-read books into the office and placed it on the bookshelf in there. I have come to the sad realization that everyone was right, and that I will not get hardly any reading done now that I have a little kid. I was told that this phase of my life would not last though, and with that in mind, I am eager for the resurgence of reading as a pastime. Oh, don't get too disappointed in me, because I am still me, and about 50 pages into an Agatha Christie right now. But what I also am is tired of staring at that seemingly unchanging pile of books that was taunting me from my nightstand. I was nursing some serious guilt about that pile, and now have completed my shame spiral by just removing the tomes from my eyesight ... unless I'm in the office ... then they silently whisper my name and say rude things.
"Kimmie, you aren't reading me ... You're illiterate now, aren't you? ... Don't you appreciate the written word anymore? ... Take me now or lose me forever ... "

They call it Xanadu-uu-uuu

You know how, sometimes, you've got a whole lot of iTunes credit from Christmas, and it's kinda burning a hole in your account because you really want to spend it, but then you can't really find anything you want to buy right this second, but then you see something that makes you say to yourself, "Holy crap! I must have those songs right this moment!"?
You do? Great! I just had one of those moments! And guess what I bought! Songs from the movie Xanadu. Actually, what led me to that was the newly released soundtrack to Xanadu: The Musical, which was highlighted on the iTunes homepage. I clicked on it automatically upon seeing the name, but then immediately noticed my error when it popped up with all these songs sung by some chick that's not Olivia Newton-John! Blasphemy! So I did a search for the soundtrack to Xanadu the movie and directly downloaded those awesome songs. All the while thinking, "Holy crap! I must have those songs right this moment!"

A Big Bird cake

It's not very often that I come across a picture of my Gramps and I that I've never seen. Or at least that I can't remember ever having seen before. And here one is, courtesy of Daddy and the never-ending box of my Grandma's photos.
I don't know how old I am here, but I love that I'm clearly frightened of my birthday cake, and that he is obviously giving my concerns all of his attention. I dig that so much about this photo. How many of the other adults in the room were silently giggling at my ridiculous fear of a cake? But then there's my Gramps, seemingly explaining that, "Kimmie, the cake is just a cake shaped like a bird. Your mom worked really hard on this, so don't be afraid of it, okay? C'mon. It's made of chocolate. How bad can it be if it's chocolate?"

Damn, you guys, my Gramps rocked the house. Oh, how I wish I could introduce him to my baby girl.

It's just a silly name, really

I find myself a bit disgusted right now with the state of our political races in New Hampshire. All that disgust comes down to the snide and condescending comments made towards Hillary Clinton after her emotional response to a question asked by an audience member at a rally today. When queried as to how Clinton is able to cope with the rigors of the campaign, as well as all the other stuff going on in her life, Clinton got visibly emotional and even choked up a bit explaining that the rough experience of campaigning was worth all the turmoil because everything she's doing is for the good of the country. I'm down with that answer. What bugs me is that Sen. John Edwards was the first opposing candidate to comment on the emotional answer and elude to how, yes, campaigning is "hard," but not as hard as it will be as life as president. (And really, Clinton knows that better than any of them.) Perhaps I'm being sensitive, but a comment like that, to me, speaks volumes of, "Ya'll see! That's is why them chicks cain't be prezdent! They be cryers!"
And that it's all over the news and Internets tonight! One would swear that the world has never seen someone being truthful before. (But wait. Maybe that's why it's news.) But really, I gotta tell you. I don't think there's a single thing wrong with having someone with emotion in the White House. It's better than the frickin' robotic, Texas tumbleweed-for-brains yahoo we've had residing there for the last seven years.
To be clear, I haven't decided which Democratic candidate I'll be voting for in November. I actually liked John Edwards until his little dick-ism comment this afternoon. And I would love to see a woman president in my lifetime. And I actually do think that Obama needs a bit more political experience before he takes on the presidency. And for goodness sakes, we simply can not have a president named Huckabee.

We actually own the Resident Evil

I don't remember the last time it happened, but Brian and I managed to knock out three movies this weekend. A new one every night, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Friday night: Balls of Fury (ridiculously bad). Saturday night: Resident Evil: Extinction (I'd say bad, but I really like those movies for some reason). Sunday night: The Kingdom (quite good). I feel accomplished this morning, like I've once again stepped into the arena of pop culture, and can say truthfully, "Yeah, I watch the movies."

Pirate fantasies encouraged

Sometimes, I think it must be somewhat cool to be an 8-year-old boy in today's world. Witness this bed, one of the most fantastic things to ever be shown on a Costco floor. It's a pirate ship!! How frickin' cool is that?!? Seriously, I read the box itself to find out if it was available in a queen. (Alas, it is only for people sleeping in twin beds.) And I took two pictures of it to be sure I got the right angle to catch not only the bow but the flag as well. I like the whole Pirates of the Caribbean thing going on, but I am totally digging this simply being a pirate ship bed. Talk about your theme bedrooms. I love this. I don't even know how much it is. I didn't look. I don't care. It's worth every penny. Argh!

And the award goes to ... Bueller?

Who figured that the Writers' strike would last so long, and eventually put awards show season in jeopardy? I'll tell you that I've been kinda enjoying having my nights relatively free without television, of course, in the end, I am dying for some new programming. If for any reason, to put ridiculous reality programs such as American Gladiators and other dreck back to pasture. But back to awards shows. I was really pretty intrigued to see how the Golden Globes and the Oscars would play out without official writers. Would stars be forced to stand on stage with nothing but a list of nominees and an envelope? Would we be spared the awfully "witty" repartee that they are forced to read through as an introduction? Could we see a stripped-to-the-bones presentation, and how long would that show last? But alas, the Screen Actors Guild and the actors supporting the strike are saying that they won't cross the writers' picket lines to even attend the show, let alone present or accept an award. While yes, disappointing, I'm still interested to see how this goes. At least for the Golden Globes. I was so excited to see how Jon Stewart was going to rock the Oscars this year.

I could never have this bed

So between the really cute comforter set I saw at Target yesterday, and the fact that my dog vomited on my bed again today, I am under the firm conviction that I will never be able to have a "grown-up" bed. My mom's got one, you know, with the perfect comforter and selection of pillows that sit just so. She's got the bed that you see in the Pottery Barn and Crate and Barrel catalogs. Her bed also sits approximately four feet off the ground so her dog can't jump up onto it. My dog does jump on my bed, he sleeps on my bed and he consumes his treats on my bed. Sadly, he also prefers to throw up on my bed. It's not cheap to get my comforter washed; it runs about $20 every time.
But I also feel like this predicament can give me a measure of freedom with my bedding choices. The current comforter is a kinda-bland purple one. I chose it because it looks good with the adorable sheets I bought. But it's already developing holes in its seams, and is looking pretty raggedy. (Vomited on and washed too much already.) The freedom is in knowing that no matter what bedding selection I make, the set itself will be cheap because I know that Oliver will eventually throw up on it, and it can therefore be traded out with a minimal pang of guilt after only, say, 10 months. Some of you know that I'm quite finicky about my bedroom linens. I may love something one day and hate it the next. (Mom knows this better than anyone.) And now that cool pink-and-brown polka dot comforter is swimming before my eyes. It's just a matter of time before it's mine.

I've used this picture already, haven't I?

It was my intention to start the year with a post a day. Already, that has not happened. So I will compensate by posting twice today. Besides, the little post archive looks so lonely with only a "1" notated for 2008.
Really quickly, I want to give a shout-out to Amy, who writes in her Christmas card that she still stalks the blog, and mention how happy that makes me to hear. (I like that my peeps from Boston are still interested enough in what I'm up to.) I also want to thank Aunt Bette for being such a staunch supporter of this little writing hobby of mine. And of course, Mom and Daddy, who for long periods of time, tend to be the only people who comment.
By the way, I'm intrigued to notice that the actual number of posts has continued to grow over the years of the blog. Frankly, I'm surprised to see that I'd posted that much in 2007. Silly me, I thought I hadn't done anything but change dirty diapers, pick up after a sloppy boy, and obsess about my dog getting the appropriate amount of attention. I guess I really did have some time to do my own thing. That makes me feel a bit better about myself editorially. I really thought that I'd lost a step or two. (Of course, I know better than any of you that several 100-word pieces do not a writer make.)
Anyway, thank you all for being such awesome readers!

A big pile of boxes, please, and some tape

And because I couldn't possibly find one more thing to stress out about, I visited my apartment manager today to find out when our lease here is up. Come to find out, the lease itself expires on March 31, and given the 60-day move-out notice required, we need to make a decision on moving somewhere by then end of January. Of course, the manager had no idea how my monthly rent would change right now, and I'll have to wait until the middle of the month. Thanks for nothing helpful, jerks. I'd love to know how much they intend to bend us over for to stay here. But of course, I don't want to stay here. I want a house, townhouse or condo. I want a grassy knoll for my dog to sniff around whenever he wants. I want a dining room and a decent-sized living room. I want a kitchen large enough for the four of us to occupy it peacefully.
There are a couple in our price range available near here, so I guess I've got a new purpose to my routines this month. Ugh. Moving. Boxes. Crap. And not to mention the extremely "helpful" one-year-old that I've never had to deal with when boxing up all our stuff.