Blogging My Way To A Better Life

BOO!

2011-10-31T21:27:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween knuckleheads! (I blatantly stole that from Wilbon on "Pardon the Interruption" - sorry, but I could not resist.)

To celebrate this fine holiday, I lit a pumpkin candle, watched "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" and then ate some frozen yogurt and fruit. Don't judge me for my mundane choices. I've had some wild costumed fiascos in my past, and at this point, I am pretty content to just snuggle up with the family and savor some small goodies. I also usually suffer from a nasty head cold on All Hallow's Eve, and this year is no exception.

So, I shall enjoy the rest of this evening in my boring little world. And I'll love every minute of it.

If It's Happened Before...

2011-10-26T22:14:00.000-04:00

Well, it's happened again. That is the story of last night's fun at the Poling household. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. (That little bit courtesy of The Princess Bride and Westley's birthday today!)

But, really, let me explain.

Last evening, I heard the pooches barking like lunatics, which is really nothing new. Except then I saw headlights in the driveway and realized that the commotion actually seemed to be warranted, as opposed to the usual howling at nothing. So, as you do, I answered the door.

On the front porch stood a nice-looking fellow, whom I greeted amidst reassurances that the canine calvary was intended not to bite but only to lick him him half to death. After he saw that I was right, he proceeded to ask me, "Is your dad the dentist?"

Now, this is hardly the first time this has happened - it just hasn't happened in a while, so I was a little out of practice in my response. Usually, I let it go with no correction. since it only proves awkward to set it straight. But, last night, I blurted out, "Not my dad. My husband."

Later, I told ol' Scotty P. about it and we had a laugh. Now, that part is new and unusual. Because in the past, he has found this whole confusion less than humorous. As an ode to those bygones, I reminded him of the more hysterical temper tantrums he has thrown after said mistaken identity. I now share these fine moments with you.

**When we still lived in good old Morgantown, WV, we were shopping at a department store in the mall. Ol' Scotty P. wandered into the Juniors section, where I diligently searched for the next great outfit to complete my closet. I had already stashed a few gems in the fitting rooms and one of the little helpers asked me if I needed to add anything to pile before I commenced to the trying-on phase. She glanced at Scott and asked if I had to "ask my dad first." I laughed. Ol' Scotty P. did not. He did, in fact, storm out of there in a pretty dramatic fashion. There may or may not have been under-the-breath cussing. Poor guy. He was not yet accustomed to this little fact of life.

**One of the very first things we did when we moved here to North Carolina was set up our gym memberships. We walked into the local recreation center and filled out all the necessary paperwork. I guess the lady wasn't paying attention to my forms because as she handed me my gym ID card, she asked me my age. I must have looked confused because she asked me again, and then looked at ol' Scotty P. as she explained the gym's policy that minors under the age of 16 need parental supervision to work out. Ol' Scotty P. stammered something inaudible. I corrected the lady. We left out of there in a jiffy.

While there have been so many other instances (the propane gas man who consistently asks if my dad is home, the various patients at the dental office who assume the doctor's faithful daughter has dropped in after school) ol' Scotty P. had learned to take it all in stride. We laugh now. The temper tantrums are over.

But, the memories live on, thank goodness. We all need some good laughs.

You Know What?

2011-10-13T11:01:00.001-04:00

I'll tell you what: I am terrible at keeping my blog updated! But, now I have several reasons for doing so:

**I am writing a play! Which has its own blog, too! You can view it here!
http://www.betweenthetacklesplay.blogspot.com/

**The play is being written with a collaborator, who is far less of a procrastinator than am I. So, I must be more ambitious, organized, and on my game so she does not think I am a total loser. (It is okay if she thinks I am a little bit of a loser, just not an all-the-way loser. One can not, and should not, hide the truth.)

**Writing every day would be a good way to keep my writing skills in check since, you know, I am writing a play.

**It's football season! Out of an abundance of caution I will not blog right now about the heavenly aroma of a Brett Favre-less season, lest he catch wind of such notions, dust off his Wranglers, and decide to saunter back into the league. (Which I am sure will happen anyway, but it won't be because of my jinx, so don't blame me.)

Until next time - which will be sooner than it was last time - peace out!

Memory Lane

2011-06-01T14:30:00.000-04:00

It is no big secret that I absolutely, positively can not bear silence. Especially when I am working on something. So, being my own boss, I get to pick whatever I want to watch and listen to while lawyering away in my little office - sometimes a documentary from topdocumentaryfilms.com, sometimes a good old gem from Netflix streaming online, and, more often than not, a favorite from my massive library of DVD's.

The past few weeks, I have become addicted to Party of Five, Season One. (And, because I am uber-dork extraordinare, Seasons Two and Three will follow suit!) I watched this first season last summer, but it only seemed appropriate to break it out again - since it's so incredibly awesome and puts me into a fabulous, reminiscent state of mind.

Every time I see and hear it, it reminds me of where I was and what I was doing when I watched its first-run, in 1994 and 1995. Back when I was in college, living in a particularly crappy apartment and partying with my friends and studying just enough and acting awfully knowledgeable and finding my way.

I had no idea of what my life would turn out to be. I had no goals beyond successfully graduating with my bachelor's degree. I had no job and no money and no need for any, since my wonderful parents paid all my living expenses and tuition and provided me enough spare change to chip in my share for cases of Bud Dry bottles from the Dairy Mart and pizza from Papa John's - something for which I was always grateful, but did not appreciate to its fullest extent until later.

I knew it was a transient time, that I would graduate and move forward and probably go on to school and have a career and all that comes with it. As much as I loved that time, I realized its fleeting nature and the harsh fact that once those years are behind you, you can never get them back. So, I enjoyed the bejeezus out of that time.

And, every week, Beverly Hills 90210 and Party of Five were a part of my routine. The moving storylines, the enotional music, the drama - it propelled me along during those years, through my own post-adolescent storylines and drama. And in 1996, when I did graduate (quite successfully, I might add) those shows continued to be big parts of my ever-changing life - during my moves to other crappy apartments, and onto crappy jobs, and then less crappy jobs, and so on and so forth.

When Party of Five finally wrapped up in 2000, I was engaged to be married and getting ready to start law school. I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and really I still don't. And that ironic fact is not lost on me as I sit here, listening to those comfortable episodes all over again and practicing law for real in a state hundreds of miles from where this storyline originally took place.

But strolling down that memory lane makes me really happy - and I know that, although I still have few goals and still feel like that twenty-year-old girl deep down inside, I am still really happy. In a more grown-up way. I have a way better place to live and enough money to afford the more high-brow beer now, so there is all the proof you will ever need.

It is good to sometimes remind yourself of good times that are gone forever - not to torture yourself or allow yourself to wallow in some fuzzy, idealized past, but to just remember. Remember what it was like, what you were like, how things have changed. Like the Joni Mitchell song featured in this first season (which, incidentally, is only one of many brilliant musical choices which kind of made me fall in love with this show to begin with) so wisely tell us, "You can't return, you can only look behind from where you came..."

And that is okay, too.

Things For Which To Look Forward

2011-05-19T08:10:00.000-04:00

I can feel it coming on quickly - though not quickly enough for me. It's almost that time of year: summer. And that can only mean tons of fun to anticipate. Because it isn't here yet, and I am impatient for it, I will make a list of all the things I simply can't wait to do and see and experience during a little thing I'll call SummerTime Extravaganza 2011.

**The dance recital. Yep, in less than a month I will wear some sequins and pull my hair into a curly ponytail with the rest of the teenagers and perform on a high school stage in the dance recital. It's silly and possibly (okay, let's be real: absolutely) age inappropriate. But I don't care one bit. I will never outgrow it or the excitement it brings. All the rehearsals leading up to it, sweating in the early June heat, running dances over and over - there are few things better. I know it will end eventually, but for this year, I will totally enjoy it. (I've never subscribed to this outdated notion of growing up anyway. This is just that belief put into motion.)

**Pool parties. In fact, until it turned into winter again, we already enjoyed this! Who knew that digging up your yard and filling it with water and concrete could turn into instant fun? (Okay, everyone knows it. I'm being flippant.) It's great to get all your friends together and chill out poolside. In fact, I had this great idea to begin my own "Real Housewives of Yancey County" every afternoon, until I had to resign my housewife position and go to work. (My sister, the true "Housewives" expert, tells me that some Housewives, in fact, work at the same time they claim to be Housewives. I just don't know if I have the time to both make a living defending the masses and sip cocktails every afternoon. I'm just not an overachiever.)

**Parkway Playhouse. Need I say more? I didn't think so. Even though I am on play restriction to one show a summer, it will be amazing and those daily rehearsals can't come soon enough.

**Company. Usually my family visits and this summer, a few friends are planning trips south. It's the perfect time to catch up and enjoy all that western North Carolina has to offer.

And that is pretty much how SummerTime Extravaganza 2011 is going to go down. The end.

Things I've Never Done (Though You Should Never Say "Never")

2011-05-16T16:13:00.001-04:00

And I don't know if I ever will do any of these things, either. In fact, I don't even want to do some of them, even though it seems socially acceptable to desire otherwise.

**I have never, nor will I ever, participate in any of those numerous Facebook "challenges" - the photo-a-day thing, the 30-songs-in-30-days thing, the other 10,000 things I forget about. It isn't that I begrudge the people who do them. I kind of like seeing some of their choices. It's just that I myself am too lazy to stay focused on something which has no real purpose, yet takes me thinking about it every single day to accomplish.

**I have never watched the original "Terminator" movie all the way to the end. Weird? Probably. Do I regret this? Not really.

**I have never taken an honest history class. (I don't count anything that happened prior to my high school graduation, since I don't consider any of those meetings of individuals "honest classes" in anything...plus, I truly never had a history class.) I do kind of feel bad about this. My college career was quite enlightening, but I just never needed to take a history class to round out my requirements. It's too bad, since I have an interest in history and would have enjoyed it a lot. I am not regretful enough to go back and do it at this point in my life, but still.

**I've never liked ketchup from the get-go. Not. One. Bit.

**Even though I really, really want to go, I've never been to Europe.

**Even though I really, really don't care one way or the other, I've never been on a cruise.

**I've never eaten Spam. I have sung the Monty Python song by the same name, but the food upon which it is based? It has not touched my list. And I'm fairly confident that, at this point, it never will.

Though one should probably never say "never." Though I just did. And I don't regret it, either. Not. One. Bit.

'Cause Oprah Said So!

2011-05-13T17:41:00.000-04:00

I don't really consider myself a true Oprah junkie. In fact, I used to be pro-O, until she fatefully had Bill O'Reilly on her show as an ally, at which time I vowed to never, EVER watch her again. But, like Kathy Griffin likes to say, if you are not with her, watch your back because she can have you killed at her whim. So, I guess I'm on board again, if only for the dramatic episodes where she spends less time patting herself on her own back and more time bringing her audience to tears.

And now, since Oprah is hanging it up after 25 years, I think it's only fair to go back and credit her for the things she has taught me over that time.

**Don't text and drive. This might be the worst possible thing you could do, according to that day's show. I believe Oprah might have you spontaneously turned into a pillar of salt if you dare disobey her. You just should not try and tempt her power. Like she said, if you have to text someone that badly, pull over to the side of the road to do it. And she will know if you don't. Because she sees all.

**Tell your husband "I appreciate you" every day when he comes home from work. This goes both ways, of course. Everyone should tell each other how much they are "appreciated." I admit that sometimes (okay, mostly every single day for the past 11 years) I forget to do it. But, I think I had better get on the stick.

**Make sure you remember this mantra for all time: "When you know better, you do better." I don't really have anything snarky to say about this because it's actually a really good life lesson, especially when you realize that most people genuinely don't know better and that's why they never do better. Sad, but true. Those people clearly should be watching more Oprah instead of doing whatever is keeping them in such sorry states.

**Write in a journal as often as possible. I really did start to do this back in law school and kept a pretty consistent journal of my life for years. I guess blogging is kind of the same thing, but far less histrionic. Oprah would probably not approve.

**If you happen to have a toddler in your car's backseat, try not to forget about it and leave it there to swelter in the sun all day. This happened, fatally, to a poor lady in Ohio. And though she did get on the Oprah show, this is hardly worth it. Here's the point: make sure you "slow down" in your life and don't become a slave to routine - or this could happen to you. (I find it fascinating that a tip to avoid this is to leave your purse on the backseat, so that you have to look back there before locking the vehicle. I know my purses mean a lot to me, but I didn't realize that love and care could save a life!) Seriously, though, that story kind of haunted me - even though I had to extrapolate it to dogs, since I am sans children. Powerful nonetheless.

**Don't write a book, claim it's true, and then admit you made it all up - unless you enjoy being destroyed by Oprah in a dramatic smack-down.

Speaking of said smack-downs, James Frey is coming back for more (Please, ma'am, may I have another?!) next week. Stay tuned faithful viewers - I guess I will!!

I Believe...

2011-05-12T10:17:00.000-04:00

In these things, though they might not be the most popular ideas in the whole wide world:

**I believe that 9/11 was an inside job.

**I believe that the football really did cross the plane of the goal line when Big Ben dove for that touchdown in Super Bowl XL - and I've only watched that game roughly 10,000 times so I should know. (And, you know, I'm not biased or anything.)

**I believe that watching shows on MTV (or VH1 for that matter) really, literally could rot out your brain. I also believe that there is no better way to waste your own time or boost your own self-esteem.

**I believe that you can tell everything you need to know about a person with one question: Elvis or The Beatles?

**I believe that adults today think kids today have too much stuff - and when those adults were kids, the other adults thought those kids had too much stuff. It's all relative. And the same percentage of kids will turn out all right as the ones who will turn out to be losers and the stuff doesn't really matter as much as the parenting those adults should be doing instead of bitching about all the stuff they bought the kids in the first place.

**I believe HBO makes the best shows on television, and if I aspired to be a writer anywhere, it would be for HBO.

**I believe this blog post is finished!

Springtime

2011-05-11T13:01:00.000-04:00

I used to believe, whole-heartedly, that no season could ever beat autumn as the best ever. Not only do I love the brilliant leaves and crisp,cool air and unique smells, but come on. It trumpets in the best season of them all: football season. It's like heaven, only you are alive and it definitely exists. (Except for this year, due to the NFL lockout, which I really. Can't. Talk. About. Right. Now.)

Lately, I have awoken to the bright blue sky and gorgeous green trees of springtime. Maybe it's because here in North Carolina, as opposed to western PA or wild and wonderful WV, there is actually a real-life season known as spring - not just a few months on the calendar which claim to be so, while the view from the window looks a whole lot more like a slightly warmer winter with (mostly) rain instead of snow. The days are longer and not too hot, but never cold. The rain is usually brief and necessary. The sky is colored something other than gray. It is a marvel.

Sometimes, I think I may have learned to enjoy this time of year even more than the sexier choice: summer. All the life emerging from the wintery blanket of cold and ice is refreshing and wonderful. I feel like I'm emerging too - able to go outside, drink in the breeze and buds...at least until the allergies force me back inside.

Yes, I will always pine for autumn. But, at least now I can do so whilst taking in the majesty of what is around me in the meantime.

I Have No Good Excuse...

2011-04-18T14:17:00.001-04:00

But that doesn't mean I don't have a slew of really bad excuses - as to why this blog has been abandoned for as long as it has. Here are a few of my personal favorites:

**I have been otherwise occupied trolling the Television Without Pity (TWOP) forum boards to find other seemingly mature adults totally and pathetically obsessed with the true piece of crap show called "Teen Mom 2." I am severely not proud of the fact that I watch the show at all - never mind my ridiculous and appalling need for more information on teenagers for whom I have nothing but fond contempt. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and hope to high heaven that no one ever finds me out. But, I have come clean like the addict I am, and from here on, I will just have to take whatever repercussions come my way.

**I have begun working out on the treadmill more often, which means I have had to switch around my other time-wasters to different points in the day, leaving less creative energy with which to post my random meanderings. (On the flip side, I have begun re-watching Beverly Hills 90210's amazingly terrific sixth season as I run. There are really no words as to the gleeful happiness this provides my soul. Really. Those are the only words I have.)

**I have actual human friends in the area with whom I spend social time. This is not something usual since my move to North Carolina. Of course, I knew people and we did things. But, these "things" were mainly sporadic, and the usual "people" in my day-to-day were either married to me or, technically, not people. (Hint: They are of a canine variety.) Now, my social calendar has picked up, and my postings have dwindled. But, fear not - I intend to turn this around! (And we all know that no roads to any place less desirable were ever paved with good intentions...)

**Actual work has gotten in the way of the aforementioned activities, rudely taking the time I might have used to update this venture. Although on one hand unacceptable, this is apparently the cultural norm. Unlike positions I may have held in the past (and I will not incriminate myself, since I plunked down $50,000-plus on a legal education wherein I learned at least this much) I now don't always have as much time for, um, extracurriculars during the workday. I am working to adapt the best I know how.

That is pretty much all I have. What can I say? I will try to do better.

Thank you.

Oscar Watch 2011

2011-02-07T14:19:00.001-05:00

Due to the unfortunate, time-consuming process of studying endlessly for the bar examination last year at this time, I was forced to cease my critiques of the Oscar nominated films. That was a bummer on several levels, though I guess it turned out okay in the end and I enjoyed the Oscars just as much anyway.

But, this year, I can resume, even if it's just for my own benefit. So, I will!

Generally speaking, I hate the new format of ten nominated movies. It's just kind of dumb, since the Academy still nominates only five directors, begging the question of whether a nominated film with no nominated director will ever win the big prize. But, logic has not been the Academy's strong suit ever, so we'll just go with it.

So far, I've seen nine of the ten nominated films. I am pretty proud of myself, but must confess I had seen a good deal of them prior to the nominations being announced, so maybe I was just lucky. The following is a list of the nominated films and the five nominated directors:

**The Fighter - director David O. Russell

**The Black Swan - director Darren Aronofsky

**True Grit - directors Joel and Ethan Coen

**The Social Network - director David Fincher

**The King's Speech - director Tom Hooper

**Winter's Bone

**Toy Story 3

**127 Hours

**Inception

**The Kids Are All Right

All in all, a pretty interesting group. (I haven't seen Toy Story 3 yet, mostly because I've never seen any Toy Story movies ever. Don't kick me out of America. I plan to catch up on them all before the big night.) I have really enjoyed this year's crop of nominations, and look forward to going through them in more detail, as well as the nominated performances. There are a few I may not see, but I do try my best to be as thorough as humanly possible.

Yay for this time of year, when movies are even more central a part of my life than the rest of the year!

To be continued...

Yinz Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind

2011-02-03T13:09:00.000-05:00

Since attending the AFC Championship game in Pittsburgh approximately ten days ago, I have been living in a noxious state of excitement and sheer terror, all the while presumably looking forward to Super Bowl XLV this Sunday. This is the conundrum on the edge of the universe: wait in anxious anticipation all year, on every snap of every quarter of every game, to get to the playoffs to get to the championship game to get to the Super Bowl, so that the stress of that Super Bowl game can drive you mad in the interim. So simple and succinct.

Every die-hard fan lives like this. Entire days, weeks, and months are hinged upon the outcome of any one Steelers' game. If you think things are tense in the middle of the season for some divisional round showdown, rachet it up tenfold for playoff games. And as for the Super Bowl? All you might need to know is there was a guy who burned down his house during Super Bowl XLIII, a game in which the Steelers were victorious.

So pardon me if I could not put down in words just how I felt after being moved to tears by 66,000 freezing-cold Steeler fans singing in unison that Pittsburgh was, indeed, "going to the Super Bowl." Forgive me if I can't fully explain the joy I felt when the defense held on four downs of a goal-line stand. (If I ever procreate and that kid ends up walking the length of a stage to receive a diploma, I can say the pride will be equalled...probably.) Excuse my lack of eloquence as I describe how it was to watch Franco and Rocky wave their towels from the makeshift stage when awarding an eighth Lamar Hunt trophy to the Rooneys.

That Sunday night in Pittsburgh, with a wind chill below zero and an anxiety level through the roof, was maybe one of the best nights of my life. To see it in person, thanks to the generosity of my parents, allowed me access to a dream come true.

Yes, I have wanted this all year long, to know that my team is in the Super Bowl, one of the last two standing. Now that it is here, so is that familiar anxious pit in my stomach, the eager and cautious anticipation of the big game. I want the Steelers to win a seventh Lombardi, even though I know as I write the words it might be tempting the Gods of Greed and Fate. I know they might not win the game, allowing for morbid disappointment.

But I do know that, having been there, in that moment at Heinz Field, Steeler Nation will love those fellows just the same, for allowing us to witness greatness, participate in two more weeks of football-inspired madness, and revel in being champions in the AFC.

Even if we all did lose our minds just a bit in the process.

That Would Be Weird, Huh?

2011-01-14T11:46:00.000-05:00

You know what would be weird? Watching "The Social Network" (i.e. the "Facebook movie") while actually being on Facebook.

I did not do this. I just watched the movie to watch the movie. It made me appreciate the line uttered by the Stanford girl about Facebook being "freakishly addictive." I wish sometimes I had never even heard of Facebook, never created a profile, never uploaded a photo, never become "freakishly addicted" to this ridiculous idea.

Why? Because, to paraphrase another line in the film, "it's exhausting." Mentally and physically and emotionally. I can't pinpoint exactly why I feel like this, but I do. I would be happy to know if other people feel like this, too. They'll probably post it on Facebook if they have opinions on the matter. Then other people will just comment on those posts and there you go. Exhausting.

But, that's how it is now in the world, and I could just turn off the computer and disable the Blackberry alert tied to Facebook and be done with it. Except we all know I'm not going to do that anymore than you are going to do that. And damn Mark Zuckerburg for all that, too.

Because what would that leave, then? I would miss out on the good links and the sports trash-talking and the voyeurism and the love/hate relationship with the whole deal. I'd just have to wonder about how old acquaintances and people I don't really know are doing, where they live, what their kids look like, whether they went to lunch already, how many smileys they will put at the end of specific status updates, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Yeah, that would be...weird.

Things I Learned in 2010 (Some For the Very First Time!)

2011-01-13T13:53:00.000-05:00

I learned the following lessons in 2010, though some of them are better categorized as things I re-learned:

**Ricky Martin is gay. Okay, I'll admit, when I first "learned" this in the holy bible of all things pop culture (i.e. People magazine) I thought to myself, "Hey, didn't I learn this in, like, 1996?" But, after reading the insightful article, I realized that I could only have suspected this in 1996, since ol' Ricky is just coming out now. So, technically, I learned something I already knew! Maybe I'm smart! Or, maybe, I'm just not stupid! (These things do not mean the same thing. They don't.)

For 2011, I hope to "learn" the same thing about Ryan Seacrest. I know he went to Paris with his, um, "girlfriend" Julianne Hough, but come on. They went with his mom and sister and they all went shoe shopping. In Paris. Wow. That is pretty much the straightest, non-gay thing I know I've ever heard. Right?

**There are really not as many murders as the true-crime lineup on TV would have you believe. I should have learned this before because I've been watching these lineups for years, but I have put it together now: they are pretty much the same murders, given different treatments on various programs. The same wife shooting her husband can be told in different ways on Snapped, Notorious, Dateline ID, 48 Hours Mystery - you get the picture. And then, if you are really special, you might get your own "inspired by real events" episode on one of the flavors of Law and Order. It's reassuring to know, really, when you consider how many less murders are being sensationalized on television.

**People in general, whether famous, infamous, or otherwise, are not so much interested in "the truth" as they are interested in saying they are "interested in the truth." Get it? This is why I basically don't believe anyone about anything, unless I find uncontroverted, neutral evidence to support it. This might sound cynical - and I know Conan told us all to not be cynical - but I believe this works for me and my defense mechanisms. Plus, I might just have been born this way. Like Ricky. And Ryan.

**It really all is about perspective. Like, a year and a half ago I really wanted to lose about 10 pounds. And now, I would almost give up a non-vital limb to be back at that weight I was about a year and a half ago. So, this has taught me a valuable lesson in my old(er) age: be happy about where you are, since you seriously do not know how good you have it when you have it good. You don't know when it might get better or worse, so you had better laugh it up and enjoy. Everyday. Take all the opportunities to make your life the fullest it can be. No matter what.

Do you hear me Ryan?

Heaps and Heaps of Crappin' Snow

2011-01-10T09:57:00.000-05:00

We're snowed in again. I don't know how this happened. One reason we moved to NC was to (allegedly) get away from this kind of weather. That plan simply did not work out.

At least we can take solace in the fact that no one cares how lazy or unproductive you are here once the first snowflake falls...or even threatens to fall. (I've heard school cancelled because the forecast called for snow. I know. That's nuts...unless you are a kid in school, in which case, that's flippin' awesome!) Up north, if the snow didn't completely cover the top of your house, you had better get out there and go for it.

Now, all four of us in this family are holed up inside and left to our own devices. Those devices include a Chessie and Beagle curled up on the bed with me snoozing away while I watch ESPN First Take, and ol' Scotty P. downstairs catching up on a BBC television series. At least we are all safe and warm and happy, even if we will be broke by the end of winter, since we never work anymore. (Not that I'll complain about that loudly, in public, on the internet...)

So, I guess the crappin' snow can fall all day and into the night and we'll just continue our little experiment in family time together. It's fun, unless you ever want to leave your house for any reason, in which case it's depressing. But, the weather is that one constant about which we can do nothing except be left to its peril. And so I'll just sleep, watch movies, eat, drink, and be merry.

And someday, maybe, it will be spring. But I wouldn't bet on it.

New Year, New Energy

2011-01-06T22:44:00.000-05:00

It's a new year, in case you were too drunk to remember Snooki falling down in that ball last Saturday morning about 12:00 midnight. That means that, though I refuse to resolve or vow any vague, pointless notions, I will put more energy into this blog.

I also will put more energy into various activities in my life, like my brand new business. Because, I have come to realize, if you happen to work for yourself and you don't, in fact, do any work, you will not, in fact, get a paycheck. This is a huge bummer and a blow to my normal work ethic, which has, to this point, been succinctly summed up as : "Just show up, keep your head down, get the work done as quickly as possible so you can goof off the rest of the time, collect those dollars, and go home."

This new idea for getting money is not fun. It is not refreshing. I guess there are good things about it, like the boss won't get on you for being late or waiting an extra five minutes because you wanted to hear the "Stone Cold Lead Pipe Locks" on Mike and Mike in the Morning, or not coming in at all. Of course, the boss also won't be able to pay you anything, either, so it's pretty much a lose-lose. On the bright side, I do get as many unpaid vacation days as I want and if I choose to sleep at my desk in a pool of my own slobber, no one will say a gosh-darn thing. (Not that I've tried that or anything. Honestly, I haven't...at least, not yet...)

There are some other changes on the horizon, like I plan to play less Bejeweled Blitz this year, I no longer plan to take the anti-anxiety drugs, and I have more activities to add to my repertoire. There might be more things, too, but if I show my hand now, then what would I write about in future blog posts? For now, we'll leave it at that.

I'll probably write my next blog post from my new office, just like I used to in the good old days. Of course, I won't be getting paid for it anymore. Depressing.

What is it "they" say about change? Oh yeah, it SUCKS!!

Things to Consider if You are Pregnant (Which I am NOT...)

2010-09-23T13:38:00.001-04:00

Nothing more random to bring me back to blogging than this!

If you happen to find yourself pregnant and are in any way as infatuated with movies as I am, here are some helpful hints for you to consider:

**Be careful if you are married to an astronaut, especially if he lost two minutes while on a space mission and you are suddenly carrying twins. While I watched "The Astronaut's Wife" I realized you must consider all the possiblities, even those which involve a husband replaced by a space transmission hell-bent on taking over the planet by placing said transmission into two fetuses. This could be the fate of your child/children. So, consider yourself warned.

**Also, on that same line of thinking, be wary of men like Husband-of-the-Year Guy Woodhouse, ala "Rosemary's Baby." If, by chance, you move into a sweet new apartment and the neighbors next door are eccentric old people who host strange parties, give you odd charms filled with smelly substances, and take the pictures off the wall when you visit, you could be in for the same fate as poor old Rosemary. You should never, under any circumstances, accept any chocolatey food from these old people, no matter if they call it "the chocolate mouse" or not. You might find yourself in an unwanted sexual tryst with Lucifer himself and consequently knocked up. Nobody wants this.

**On a happier note, if you are pregnant and like to bake pies, it's a good idea (and therapeutic as well) as long as you aren't married to the creeper of the century, like Keri Russell in "Waitress." Even given that minor setback - which she was able to fix in the end - she managed to create one scrum-diliumptious baked good after the other, all while singing that darling "Gonna bake a pie with a heart in the middle..." song to her unborn daughter. I don't even know how to begin to bake a thing, but it made pies and pregnancy look like an absolutely heavenly duo.

And that, folks, is how I am headed back to the blog! Don't let your guard down, ladies. Seriously.

Red Sangria and Planters'

2010-06-22T00:46:00.000-04:00

Yep, it's 12:30 in the morning/night, I am drinking my second glass of Red Sangria and eating Planters' Peanuts and so you know what that means - or you don't. I'll tell you. It means it is Tech Week at Parkway!

Last year, it became a bit of a ritual when I got home late, late at night after our Tech Week rehearsals: I'd sneak around in the kitchen, put my bags down ever so silently, and tippy-toe into my bedroom (to get my nighties and remove my contacts) and then I'd get yelled at by a sleeping/snoring Scotty P. who vehemently explained, "I WAS NOT SLEEPING BECAUSE YOUR LOUD ASS WOKE ME UP AND WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" to which I'd respond, "Where do you think I've been? We live in Burnsville you know. I was at Parkway," to which he'd sleepily crone, "It's awfully damn late to be out. But good night sweet pea." And then he'd gently creep back into slumber, from whence he had come - despite his claims to the contrary.

Okay, that isn't the point of the story, but he is a light sleeper and just tonight claims that my car door woke him and so my quietness was lost. After all that other jazz would come the true ritual: I'd retire to the dark living room, get my obligatory glass of Red Sangria and can of Planters' Peanuts (with sea salt) and put on some true crime late-night television to settle in with Facebook or the memories of a long, hilarious evening at the Parkway Playhouse. And I would think to myself, "I am so happy right now."

This might all sound completely corny because it truly is. It also happens to be the honest truth. Late nights before the opening of a show at the Parkway Playhoues with my castmates/friends/second family are my favorite summertime treat. I know it's only my second summer and I am relatively green in terms of the long storied history of Parkway, but I don't care. You might be hard-pressed to find someone who loves it quite so much as I do or who feels so passionately it changed their lives so dramatically.

Or, there might be a million of us out there and so be it. Parkway has been around generations and lifetimes before me and I hope it lasts hundreds of years after I'm gone. But before my departure, I hope to enjoy plenty more summers full of new stories and giggles.For now, it's four days until we open "Annie" and I"ve got my Sangria and nuts all lined up. Yippee for me and Summer 2010! I already know it's going to be a good one.

It already is.

Gleeks Unite!

2010-05-18T11:58:00.000-04:00

Good golly gee do I love the show "Glee" - more than just about anything else on television right now...except for the precious few last episodes of "LOST" and the fabulous programming on HBO and Showtime. But even those wonderful shows (like "Treme" and "Nurse Jackie" and "The United States of Tara") don't combine random showtunes into their repetoires, which makes "Glee" top of the tops. Plus, Kristen Chenoweth shows up on occasion and she is my big-time singing girl crush, so there you have it and thank you very much.

After all these years of toiling in obscurity, Gleeks like me have a forum in which to unite once weekly. Fans of belting along with Broadway soundtracks, recreating elaborate dance numbers in front of bedroom mirrors, and collecting live production showbills - our time is now! Not only is this show incredibly well done and classy and filled with all kinds of modern gems and obscure classics, it's popular! Go figure. This is not something with which average Gleeks are especially familiar. (If my fellow Gleeks are anything like me, we are more alligned with, say those kids Puck was throwing into the dumpster last week...)

But no more! Even Ol' Scotty P. is a fan, although he limits his showtunes to the one-hour time slot for the show and doesn't feel the need to make it a part of his daily routine. He does not, for example, sing otherwise normal statements, like I might. (Though that could make for a very interesting addition in his line of work!) No matter. It's an awesome pop culture moment for those who love lively bursts into song, witty banter, talented performers, and top-notch writing.

I wish I could attend William McKinley High and join New Directions, too. I wish this show had been around when I attended my own dismal high school, so that my strange fascination with singing and dancing may have seemed less eccentric. (This is still a long shot. I would probably still have been the wierdo outcast - a skill which, though painful at that time has served me extraordinarily well in my adult life. Dare I say it, people may actually like me better for my differences? So, take that high school memories!) These kids are just super great and I love, love, love them as if they were really real. Is that a clear enough statement to express my obsession?

If only there were more outlets to burst into song to express ourselves - in real life, I mean. I bet communication would improve and we would all feel better. Maybe I'm onto something here. Maybe that's why I feel so happy some days, because I have sung my way through life for a while. Maybe we could all take a cue from "Glee" and break into song here and there. It would be fun and captivating to our audiences.

And if that doesn't catch on, that's okay too. I'll still be doing my little solo act here, you can count on it! And, I bet there are other Gleeks out there who can totally relate...

Laughter Is the Best Medicine

2010-05-17T21:33:00.000-04:00

Here are some things that made me laugh in the past few days - and goodness knows I do love a good chuckle. Laughter, and finding funny things anywhere, anytime, is one thing at which I am pretty darn good - it is my best friend!

**Re-watching "The Hangover" tonight. This always makes me laugh, no matter what, and so it is no surprise, but I thought it appropriate to begin the list.

**Looking at my pajamas, which happen to be covered in bumble bees and flowers, and making "Buuuzzzziiiinnnnnggggg" sounds while watching "The Hangover." Ol' Scotty thought that was humorous too, in a childish, silly sort of way.

**About 700 things at the first Parkway Playhouse rehearsal of "Annie" last night, none of which would be funny to a normal, mature adult - or anyone other than me and perhaps one or two other choice people. This is just the first of about 700 more rehearsals throughout the summer, all of which will be filled with laughter and hysterics. And I can't wait for that! I don't think there is any better laughter than that which occurs at Parkway!

**The finale of "Survivor" last night. Specifically, Sandra calling out Russell as she wore that tiara. Hilarious. I also supremely loved when Boston Rob said if he could do it over, he'd beat Russell's ass. Priceless...

**A beagle and a chessie. They didn't do anything out of the ordinary, which means there were their naturally rambunctious, hysterical selves. I especially loved Gracie sliding herself under our bed to her "hidey hole" when she saw me put sneakers on to take a walk. (See, she thinks she might have to go on a walk, something which makes her extremely anxious and insane - because she is neurotic and generally "special needs." But, as many who have met her have said, as she belongs to me, she gets it honestly.)

**Ol' Scotty making fun of my black Converse sneakers I wore yesterday. We both had a good guffaw after he pointed out that if I want to ever look older than 12, I might try not wearing those ridiculous shoes. (For the record, I love those shoes and will wear them to death. Plus, my wearing or not wearing them has no bearing on how old others think I am. It's still 12.)

Here's to another fun-filled day of snickers! Hope there are some in it for you, too!

Meandering Day of Loveliness

2010-05-15T20:26:00.000-04:00

Today has been just about perfect. I will herein attempt to explain why.

**When I woke up, Ol' Scotty P. had already turned on the television, which is both unheard of (since he claims to not enable my TV addiction) and terrific (precisely because of my TV addiction - which I, like any good addict, vehemently deny.) "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" was on, and I love that movie, so I cuddled up under the covers with my coffee and reveled in its delight. It occurred to me that these are the moments I could not enjoy if I were a parent, but being as I am currently only a mom to dogs, I decided to stop thinking about that and not feel guilty for things which are not my life. I knew it would be a good day right off the bat...

**It was super warm outside - perfect for a sundress and brand new brown, flowery flip-flops. I spent some time at Burnsville's Farmer's Market, buying homemade jams, farm fresh local eggs, and yummy goat cheese. I visited a produce stand for beans and potatotes and peaches, all raised right here in Yancey County. I thought of my old Saturday morning routines in Morgantown, when I would drink a big latte from Starbucks, get a manicure, and then go shopping for things I didn't need. Both are good, though different, and both are, strangely enough, totally me, and I really feel at peace doing both. Surprising and odd how that happens sometimes...

**Seeing how Ol' Scotty P. is feeling a bit under the weather, we took it easy and spent the afternoon in Asheville with my favorite Aussie Russell Crowe on the big screen in "Robin Hood." We adored it. It had just the right combination of bloody action and intriguing story, and the promise of a sequel which I desperately hope comes true. I skipped breakfast to starve myself on purpose, so I got to eat a huge bucket of delicious popcorn, too, which is always a movie bonus. (I have on numerous occasions eaten a huge bucket of popcorn on a stuffed full stomach, because I love popcorn that much. It is much more enjoyable, however, to do it when you are truly hungry. There is your free tip for the day. You're welcome.)

**After the film, we walked across the street to Cold Stone Creamery for a sweet treat. We were both briefly distracted by a case full of chocolate delights, from which we picked a good number for later tonight. Then we each ate the biggest size (Gotta Have It) of heavenly ice cream goodness on the face of the planet. (I recently had such a craving for Cold Stone that I ate a Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich for lunch a few days ago. It was not a suitable substitute for Cold Stone, that's for sure. It reminded me of my Morgantown cravings and how I would drive to Cold Stone in any weather, at any time of day or night, to fetch it. I am glad I dreamt up today's plan to get my fix!) We sat outside together and had a delicious time, Scotty with his choclatey chocolate and me with my vanilla and cookie dough concoction of bliss. Nothing is a better lunch than movie theater popcorn and Cold Stone ice cream. (What am I saying? Better lunch? Hell, there is no better meal, period!!) I sure am lucky to have enjoyed that...

**Once we got home, Ol' Scotty went downstairs to wail on his guitar and find his "perfect tone" - which I guess is only slightly harder to track down than the truth about large-scale disasters. (This will make sense in a minute.) I decided it was the perfect time to engage in one of my favorite obsessions: watching 9/11 conspiracy documentaries. While I have long loved to do this, a few days ago I hit the mother load: an entire online site dedicated to top documentaries on every subject imaginable. Thankfully, a large number of these are about the 9/11 Truth Movement. Over the past two days, I have watched approximately ten of them. (Though I understand I am prone to exaggeration, this is an honest number. And I'm not even half-way through the list! Blessed, glorious internet!)

Scotty P. queried whether I had discovered the truth yet. I informed him as I will inform you: Not yet, but I think I am getting closer, and I will die trying, if necessary. He then added that, if the Powers That Be get wind of my obsession, I may very well die trying. If that is the case, then all my cynical, conspiracist musings will likely be proven true, won't they? And that will only serve to further my goal! (I do not, however, want to become a martyr for this - or any - cause. So, let's hope I don't fall to such a fate.)

Right now, I am eating a big, fat, piece of red meat (raised free range, of course) and organic broccoli, questioning the federal government's version of September 11, and watching a peaceful Chessie sleep at my feet as a curious Beagle scours the kitchen for wayward crumbs. We are all content as can be here on a rainy Saturday night, the end to a glorious day.

Life is good.

Wonder Why?

2010-05-12T15:23:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I just wonder about things in this world. Ol' Scotty P. doesn't seem too interested in my wonderings, so I just have to get those things out in this blog post...

**When I watch "48 Hours" or "Dateline" or "American Justice" or any of the many, many true-crime stories over which I obsess, I wonder why they feel the need to say "in a hushed courtroom, the defendant took the stand..." or some such thing. What other kind of courtroom is there? Have you ever seen the inside of a courtroom whilst a trial takes place that is raucous or otherwise so engaged? Are there jugglers or clowns or vendors wandering the aisles hawking popcorn and COLD Bud Light? Unfortunately, no. (But, that would be all right by me if there were, seeing how much time I spend in courtrooms.)

By definition - and order - the courtroom is typically hushed. Or the bailiff takes offending parties out. (I've seen several drunks escorted from the courtroom before. At 9:00am. In Avery County. Enough said, if you know anything about Avery County...) And, on top of that, most people inside said courtroom are bored to tears, which tends to lead to silence. So, in the interest of efficiency, I think they can leave that part out of the description. Thank you.

**Why do people think a sticker on the back windshield of their vehicle is an appropriate tribute to a dead person? I can't tell you how many decal crosses and birth-and-death dates I've seen driving down the highway, right next to a Dale Earnhart sticker or "My Kid is an Honor Student" decoration. Seriously, if I died and someone put a decal on their car next to the Pittsburgh Steelers decal, I would be pissed. Because I am anti-tacky. (This also goes for those roadside crosses/memorials. I argue that is littering and should be illegal. I better not see any of this nonsense from the other side or I will haunt you. Consider yourself warned.)

**Why do Facebook users need to update their statuses with things like, "I am REEEAAAALLLLY MAD RIGHT NOW AND DON'T EVEN ASK ME ABOUT IT BECAUSE I WILL NEVER EVER TELL YOU EXCEPT TO SAY I AM REEEEAAAAAALLLLY MAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!!!!" (Excessive exclamation points and capitilization intended to copy their over-dramatic emphasis.) These statuses are, naturally, followed by loads of comments like, "OMG - Are you okay?"

Of course the person is okay. They updated their Facebook status, didn't they? So they are clearly not incarcerated, in a coma, paralyzed under a semi-truck, or similarly incapacitated, which would impede their Facebook updates. They are, however, in my humble opinion, attention-seekers who need nothing less than a slew of "OMG - HOW CAN I HELP YOU?!?!?!?!?!?!" comments. What they might need is to be ignored so they might realize their pitiful, childish cries for attention are, um, retarded. There, I said it. This type of behavior is retarded and should result in a lifetime ban from Facebook, thereby eliminating at least one avenue from which these histrionic souls can derive attention.

Okay, for today, these are the most pressing issues I can think about. Until later, then, let the questions continue!

Dream On

2010-05-11T15:22:00.000-04:00

Being rather lazy, it's no surprise I like to sleep. And, as one who likes to sleep, it's no shocker that I love to dream. I don't, however, always love my dreams because they are bizarre and extraordinarily crazy. I do, though, love to dissect my dreams and, just the other day, Ol' Scotty P. told me to "never" tell him about my dreams again because "it scares him."

I tried to find out what specifically terrified him about my most recent tale of flying a small scooter-type airplane through the Parkway Playhouse's director's home (a place which was most definitely not real due to its labyrinth style of secret rooms and layered hallways.) Did he not like my inablility to land the device, which I repeatedly crashed into the hardwood floors? Was he bothered that dream Scotty P. shut down his office suddenly to become a file clerk and tried to move us to a million-dollar home? Did he get jealous because I got invited to Dollywood and he didn't want to come with?

No, it turns out, as he explained, my dreams "scare the s**t out of him" because what goes on inside my head is "f'ing insane." (He is nothing if not eloquent, I always say.) I can see his point, but countered that if he's scared by secondhand versions of my nightmares, he should try spending a day living with what's going on inside my head. Seriously.

Regardless, I decided to continue telling him despite his wishes to the contrary. It's good for a couple to share things between them. If I had never told him about my dreams, he would never know about the time dream Steph was having a dream baby and dream Scott insisted it be named Wilhemina, if a girl, or Danny Todd, if a boy. (We had a girl, by the way, and I stuck the newborn in a cardboard box and forgot about her. We did name her Wilhemina. It all turned out because it was only a plastic baby doll anyhow. Dream Steph was glad it was a girl because as bad a name as Wilhemina might be, Danny Todd is, um, atrocious.) He also would have missed out on all my tales of dating Peyton and Eli Manning and how they fight over me in my sleep.

Okay, so I see why he would prefer I just keep a dream journal or something. But what fun would that be? A few nights ago I dreamt that the Penguins won this series against the Canadiens, a scenario which looks right now as likely as my dating a Manning brother.

But, it's fun to share these things with him - clearly more fun for me than him. It's okay, though. I think he secretly likes my creativity and wit.

At least, he does in my dreams.

They Said, "Athlete!"

2010-05-06T10:40:00.000-04:00

Last week, Ol' Scotty P. and I went on a swanky dinner date with two other couples who are good friends we don't see often enough, even though we all live within miles of one another. It was fabulous. I got to wear a new dress I had just found for a steal and some fancy shoes, so already, even before the wonderful food and enlightening conversation, the night was successful in my mind.

But the food was absolutely, memorably delicious and the easy, breezy conversation filled with laughter. It was joyous. For a bunch of grown-ups, we had a way better time than I ever had at the beer bashes of my twenties - even if you could not have convinced me of that back then. This fact never ceases to baffle me, as I am just so darned resistant to classifying myself an "adult" sometimes, until I'm reminded of how awesome it is to finally be one!

Lest you think it was all stuffy talk of gardening and parenting tips, I'll just tell you those things did come up, between asking classic questions like, "Which athlete would you most like to sleep with?" Now, this is one of my favorite games to play, made all the better after a few cocktails. (Another difference between being a pseudo-adult and a full-fledged grown-up: You can afford the good liquor. And mixers. And you can order these concoctions at the bar, instead of having to stick to the beer special in a pitcher. I never thought I would see the day. Life really does get good.)

Of course, this is a good question because it limits you as to choices - versus, say, "actors" or similarly vast categories. I chose Sidney Crosby because he is a stand-up guy, lives with Mario, is sweet as can be, talented, cute, has a gold medal AND a Stanley Cup ring, and is Canadian. (I like the accent.) Plus, we are smack in the middle of hockey playoffs, so he graces my screen (hopefully) every other day or so. (And, on a side note, though my campaign to bring Big Ben retribution continues diligently and he did apologize to the city of Pittsburgh, we are not quite ready to throw his name into a conversation like this. Yet. Give it time.)

A few days ago, long after this little back-and-forth took place, Ol' Scott and I were watching the Pens lose a miserable game in the Eastern Conference Semifinals and he remarked, "I can't believe you chose Sidney Crosby over everyone."

I jolted upright from my sad, prone, Pens-are-losing-a-real-stinker position, "Yeah, but they said athlete! Not just anyone! Who would you rather I have chosen?"

He did not respond right away, but then said, "Yeah, you're right. They did say athlete. I guess that's a good choice." And we resumed cussing at the ridiculous play on the ice while willing the Pens to do better in Game 3. (Which they sure did, by the way, making it a 2-1 game lead heading into tonight's showdown!)

The point is this: We have grown up. Like it or not. Tank tops and pitchers of Bud Light in a smoke-filled bar have given way to fancy martinis and multi-course meals. (Most of the time. I won't pretend that you'll never see me in a tank top with a glass of Bud Light, but it is way less frequent now.)

But it's good to know that, even in adulthood, you can play a game like this one with your friends and you can stick to the rules of that game. And you can ponder over the answers with your spouse later because everyone is mature and happy to be that way. I hope that next time we see these dear friends, we can play another version of this game or one similar.

Because it's that sort of connection to the silliness of youth that lets me relish completely the joys of growing up, even if I sometimes don't really believe I have.

Yippee-Kay-Yay, Broadway Lover!

2010-05-05T11:58:00.000-04:00

This is a Broadway musical kind of time of year! The Tony nominations were announced this week. I heard all about it from my gay radio boyfriend, "The Ahmaaazing" Seth Ruetetsky on Sirius XM Broadway channel which plays non-stop in my car. (Don't ask me again: Seth and I have a kind of a "thing" going on and I can't explain it right now. Trust me - it's showtune terrific and, yes, ahmaaazing.) On top of all that, the Parkway Playhouse is gloriously near to beginning rehearsals for "Annie" - the first of two musicals I will perform in this summer.

Needless to say, my life is one big, elaborate musical number in my mind right now. (And when I say "right now" it could translate to "all the time" - except seriously more right now.) I've been humming showtunes all day long and dwelling incessantly on the emotions of my favorite shows. I am, simultaneously, attempting to train for a 5K which is coming up this Saturday and, while it is slow, plodding, and not entirely likely to continue for the 3.1 miles, I do so enjoy picking a new Broadway soundtrack on my iPod each time I go out running. It's like a melding of the physical and emotional in the best possible way.

Some time ago, it was my current obsession, "Wicked." I have likely listened to this complete soundtrack no less than 1000 times in the past five months, and it never ceases to amaze me. When I saw it onstage during a freak February snowstorm in South Carolina, my already-perfect vision of it was etched forever in my mind as a fantastic memory. After it had ended, and while the tears were likely still fresh on my cheeks, Ol' Scotty P. and I slipped and slid our way over a magical snow-covered bridge to our cozy hotel room (me, of course, in ridiculously impractical Italian leather three-inch heels, holding Scotty P. with all my might so as not to tumble) and we ate take-out New York Carnegie Deli cheesecake while I wore my souvenir Wicked track jacket and remarked that it was almost as good as being in NYC. And it was, almost. Kind of like how listening to the soundtrack now is almost as good as that night in South Carolina. Almost.

Last week, for example, I chose "Miss Saigon." This is maybe not the most obvious option, but I do love it so. It reminds me of being a naive young adult who still believed in that kind of perfect, self-sacrificing love. I used to listen to my cassette tape copy of it in my freshman dorm room at WVU while I did my homework and tears would stream down my face at the tragic, sorrowful end - which I will not reveal, in case some dear readers are not familiar. (To which I say - get out there and listen! There is no greater joy than immersing oneself in a musical story from start to end, in one sitting, to discover a story told in glorious, delicious song...)

I remember the first time I saw it onstage in Pittsburgh, and how excited I was to finally put a visual to the songs I had memorized for so many years. I've seen it another time since, but somehow, it never had the same emotional kick that those cassette tapes held for an 18-year-old kid away from home, clumsily finding her way to adulthood. That is what that show really means for me, and thank goodness for it. It's a lovely memory to match a lovely show.

And then, a few days ago, in the steamy humidity of the afternoon, I could not help but pick "Oklahoma!" I so wanted to relish the memories of last summer's Parkway Playhouse production - to feel the stickiness of the backstage in the summer heat, to sense the butterflies of "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" when it begins so precious and sweet. As anyone who has ever talked to me in the past year knows, if I could bottle those nine or so performances from last year and relive them forever, I would in a heartbeat. It was therapy in the best sense of the word - I found myself on that old wooden stage in Burnsville, NC, and I vowed to hold onto that joy forever.

So, when I set out running to those terrific tunes, it was like coming full circle. I ran and I thought - about all the new memories of this summer coming up, of the changes on the horizon, of making my home here in the mountains of North Carolina.

That is the true story behind the Broadway love - what it means for me, the feelings and love that rise in my soul when I hear some showtunes and can't help but belt along. It is, as Seth would say, "Ahmaaazing!"

And I cherish it so.

Crosby on the Bedpost

2010-04-22T11:39:00.000-04:00

Right now, my Sidney Crosby jersey hangs triumphantly on my bedpost, right where I hung it after the last victory over Ottowa. It will remain there until the Pens no longer are alive in the NHL playoffs - hopefully sometime in June when they lift the Stanley Cup in a repeat of their 90's repeat. I wear it every other day and then I hang it up in its spot for the next installment - a routine I hope to continue for some time. It's a happy reminder in the morning, to know that there is something toward which to look forward and about which to smile.

So much else in my sporting world is less than happy. The Mountaineers' devestating loss in the Final Four, poor Santonio's trade to the Jets, and, of course, Big Bad Ben. Goodness gracious, you'd think he had killed someone...like, say, Ray Lewis or Dante Stallworth. You'd think he'd been convicted of something...like, say, half the rest of the league. But, no, not really. He is, apparently, evil enough to dominate the negative press of every major sports-shouting show and internet site and, thus, I can no longer watch those shows or read those articles. I can't explain my views in this blog because I can't exactly pin down my views.

But, don't count me in with the rest of the frenzied bandwagon "trade him!" followers. In my mind - and plenty of others' - he's still a great quarterback. All these people loved him in the final 40 seconds of Super Bowl XLIII. What, now because he may be sexually aggressive he's no longer able to throw a precision pass under pressure? I guess that is the same logic that because Tiger is a man whore he can no longer...putt. (I don't know enough about golf to make an intelligent analogy here. All I know is that it's fun on the Wii and boring as crap in real life.)

In the real world, I know plenty of respectable people who are great at their jobs, and up to whom others may very well look. I also know that these same folks have made mistakes - sexual and otherwise - in their lives. I don't really think differently about them and don't suspect others would either, even if they knew the facts. I might not agree with the actions or mistakes or missteps or...whatever. I also don't want to start down the slippery slope of legislating/criminilizing morality and/or stupidity. We simply don't have the manpower in this country to keep up with all that!

So, for now, I'll just sit here on my bed with my Crosby jersey and keep all my energy on the ice, where it would be now anyway, even without all the other distractions. I know Sid and Geno and the rest of the Mighty 'Guins will give it their all, making the 'Burgh proud no matter how far they go in the post-season. Because on the ice, at least it's still all about the game.

So, Let's Go Pens!! Because I want that Crosby jersey to stay put a while longer.

Summery Summer Goodness

2010-04-14T08:51:00.000-04:00

It's not quite Spring proper, but it feels like Summer, so I've moved on. Sorry, Nature, but I feel secure that once my over-confidence in this weather fully manifests, you will snatch it cruelly away from me and replace it with cold, wet nastiness. So, time is of the essence and I must revel in the joys of Summer Planning-Palooza, 2010:

**After last summer's inaugural performance in "Oklahoma" I have, once again, been given the chance to be part of the Parkway Playhouse's Summer Season. This community theater has changed my life and I am not being overly dramatic. (Dramatic, maybe, but not overly so.) For 64 years, the Parkway has delighted the Burnsville area and I am prouder of being a part of it than I have even been of anything in my entire life. (Check it out at parkwayplayhouse.com. If you are in the Western North Carolina area, it will be good times if you stop by and see it live!!) The unbridled happiness I experience when working hard to bring the production together is more rewarding than I can translate.

This summer, I will be part of "Annie" - wherein I will not play an orphan, contrary to popular belief based upon the age I appear (and likely act, though people don't say that to my face) - and "Guys and Dolls" - in which I may (fingers crossed) get to play an adult! (Or at least a teenager.) I can't wait for late-night practices, cast meltdowns, and general comraderie with other actor-types. It's a blast. I can think of no other way to spend the summer, and don't comprehend other opinions. (Namely, ol' Scotty P.'s, who sincerely seems baffled by me during these months of rehearsals.) Who cares? The show must go on and, in this house, it will, believe you me...

**For the umpteenth time (thank goodness) I will see DMB live and thus summer can be complete. Somehow, after all these years of loyalty, we have scored Gold Circle seats at the Charlotte show and I'm already dizzy with the idea of being that close to my musical gods. Summer is somehow a bit sadder when you don't see crazy Dave dancing and hear (hopefully) "Two Step" live on a humid, sweaty evening. It will be a long wait until July, but let the countdown begin! ("Celebrate we will...Life is short but sweet for certain...")

**After almost four years at my current job, I'm moving on. I don't know what to expect. For the first time in my life, I'll be my own boss. And knowing full-well the type of employee I can be, I may become fast frustrated with myself. But, to grow in this life, you have to take chances and move ahead and that is what I intend to do, as I think positive thoughts and hope to quell any panic attacks.

But don't be crazy! I will be leaving my current job at the end of June and won't begin the new venture until at least September. So, I'll have plenty of time to enjoy the rest of my summer adventures! Let's not forget what type of employee I am...

**Along with the more glamorous, there is the glorious mundane: the sunny days outside with the dogs, dinners downtown Asheville, my birthday(!), family visits, new flip-flops with freshly painted toenails, not-so-white legs, weekend cabin trips, ice cream cones, the smell of sunscreen, sundresses, blonder hair, and all-around heavenly sunny times.

Bring it on, Nature! I'm ready!

What-sa Goin' On?

2010-04-08T09:48:00.001-04:00

Since my last blog post, it has miraculously become summer from winter by the beginning of April, I snagged a snazzy new pair of brown clogs on a tremendous sale, and the Mountaineers got all the way to the Final Four in the NCAA tourney. (Some other stuff happened, too, but I try to hit the high points.) Ol' Scotty P. and I have made some pretty big decisions about our joint future - namely, a swimming pool would really be sweet right now and, unfortunately, a new Beagle puppy is not a wise addition to our little family.

In honor of this fresh new time of year, a renewed sense of dedication to this blog. I vow to do the following:

**I will play less Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook and use my time more sensibly. This will particularly make Scotty P. happy, since he firmly believes I spend roughly 75 percent of my time on this sparkly little computer game - when it's really a little less than that. We'll find a healthy compromise.

**Even though I receive almost 500 e-mails a day from Bluefly.com, I will not (repeat: WILL NOT) succomb to these discounted designer wares. I will not buy any beautiful Kate Spade heels or cashmere fingerless gloves or flowy Free People dresses, no matter how lovely those things may look together for some night on the town and no matter the special sales Bluefly claims are TODAY ONLY! My will-power will just have to defeat Bluefly's relentless temptation. Stay strong and breathe...and avoid Bluefly.com like it's a New England Patriots fan with the swine flu.

**I will work harder to write more regularly, since that usually helps to quell the other time-wasters. Wish me luck!!

Today, I Will

2010-02-04T11:22:00.000-05:00

Today I have lots of obligations. Tomorrow I have those same obligations, but we are only going to talk about today. Because of today's to-do list, I currently suffer from acid reflux, a sour stomach, a headache, eyes that are on fire, and cold feet. (Well, to be fair, the cold feet are the result of chasing one contemptuous Chessie into the icy yard to cease her digging up our entire yard, as well as the neighbor's, in her quest for moles. While in hot pursuit, I eliminated shoes from the equation and only wore my socks. It was not my brightest moment. I also did not stop the dog from her hunting instincts, which kind of makes sense when you think about it.)

It is fairly easy to get caught up in negatives. Being a natural defiant personality, I will attempt to list some positives to rebut that initial tempation:

**Right now, one overly repentent Chessie is curled in front of the fire, quiet and behaved and ever the model of dog obedience. She also licked my face several times upon finally coming inside. My read on this was an apology for her earlier ill-tempered refusal to listen. I don't know if dogs' brains really function this way, but I will stubbornly hold to my thoughts that they do. I can't stay mad at her because she doesn't ever stay mad at me, even when I did lose my temper and swat her nose. We love each other like that.

**Concurrently, one lazy Beagle is curled at my feet on the couch, snoring away into the afghan-covered pillow upon which she is snuggled ever so sweetly. I know she wants up on the couch because it is warm and fluffy and comfy. Sometimes, I like to think she also wants to comfort me as I trudge through my numerous have-tos. There is something about a Beagle at your feet which makes even the dreariest of tasks perkier. She is such a baby, and that is why I baby her...or the other way around.

**Tonight I get to go to dance class, where I can lose all sense of stress in favor of physical challenge and laughter with a bunch of teenagers. Never, in all my life, have I ever felt better or more myself than when I am dancing. I might not be the most technically proficient dancer and I might never master all the skills, but my soul is happiest when I am trying. Unlike any other thing in my life, being even mediocre at this one hobby has made me happier than any of the other things I have tried or mastered. Who cares if I could (literally) be mother to my classmates? They remind me of all the best and worst aspects of being a teenager. I am happy with my place in life and happy to test my ablities with theirs. It makes me a better dancer and gives me a better outlook on llife, too.

**Yesterday, I found a specific dress at Target which I have loved, loved, loved since Christmas-shopping season and it was half-off. And it is super cute and I love it even more now that it is in my closet. No matter that I have no less than one hundred dresses hanging beside this new one. I will not apologize for my love of clothes, nor will I ever again make a ridiculous statement like, "Please stop me from buying any more dresses." (Which I uttered this past summer after one dress spree too many. Perish the thought those words even escaped my lips!)

Because if I wasn't buying too many dresses and dancing, curled up with dogs at my feet, who would I be? Not someone I would want to know, I'll tell you that!

So, back at it now, acid stomach and all. At least I know what's really important. And let me tell you: a Beagle can do wonders for icy cold feet - they are almost completely warmed up now! Sometimes it really is the littlest things that bring the most peace.

Shut the Crap Up!

2010-01-31T11:18:00.000-05:00

While I rarely use the blog to rail against any real or perceived enemies, I sometimes feel the need to share the running commentary in my head with all the world...or, put another way, whoever chooses to read my blog posts. I will preface the following by stating that all uber-obvious choices are just that and don't warrant any repeats here - for example, see Sarah Palin, Brett Favre, and Phil Simms for starters.

So, Shut the Crap Up:

**Tim Tebow. If I desired to know your inner-most thoughts, I would read the Bible verse printed on the greasepaint under your eyes. However, I don't care. And I highly doubt too many other die-hard football fans do either. So, on Super Bowl Sunday, when you "star" in your little anti-abortion/Focus on the Family commercial, I will probably be in the bathroom or getting a beer or eating nachos like everybody else.

I will not, however, be listening to you because the last thing I want to interrupt a good-ass game of pigskin is a wanna-be quarterback spouting propoganda. Shame on you, CBS, for infecting Super Bowl Sunday with anything not about football or beer or that talking E*Trade baby or Viagra or anything else considered ultra-American on that day.

And as for Mr. Tebow, I do believe this commercial is as close to the Super Bowl as you will ever get, judging by your less than stellar performance at the Senior Bowl. Maybe you should try putting all that energy into learning to drop back and pass. I might actually care about what you're doing then. Until that imaginary point in time, just shut the crap up. Thank you.

**Jay Leno. Oh goodness, the Brett Favre of NBC television. You decided to retire. You knew Conan would take over The Tonight Show when you did so. Then, I guess you pulled a fast one and didn't want to leave after all. (Hmmm...wherever would you have gotten such a hair-brained idea like that?)

So, NBC puts you on at 10:00, which I don't think went over well, lending credence to why NBC's numbers are in the toilet. Then, I guess you convinced someone to put you back on the show from which you retired, thereby kicking out the successor you were well aware was taking over for you. Geez, the similarities between you and one infamous QB are striking!

I used to be a fan. I really was. However, now, not so much. You, Mr. Leno, now hold the illustrious place of annoyance just one slot below Number Favre. (Who can't really be replaced in my mind by anyone because that would just be...wrong.) So, please, enough.

**Nancy Grace. I'm over all the missing kids already. I'm pretty sure we know Natalee Hollaway is dead and so is Caylee Anthony. There - cases closed. Jon Gosselin doesn't really need your help to look like a douchebag. (He can shut up as well. Any time now. We, collectively, are waiting...) You seriously give lawyers an even worse name than they have now. Do you realize how hard that is? For crying out loud - shut it!

**Heidi Montag. You need to not only shut the crap up, you need to disappear entirely. I'm not sure why you are newsworthy - strike that, you are NOT newsworthy. We just have a poor imitation of journalism in this country and possibly a poorer imitation of humans who actually follow stories like this. (For the record, I don't count myself in that category because I get my information from printed materials, like Entertainment Weekly, and not Good Morning America. I'm just pointing that out.)

Heidi, Speidi, whatever. Your cries for attention are pitiful. Your plastic surgery is ridiculous. Your "husband" is kind of a waste of space. You are pretty much an idiot. You can't sing - and I'm not the only one who thinks this, as your new CD sold less than 1,000 copies its first week. The only redeeming factor to your existence is that Joel McHale has a field day with you on The Soup and I look forward to a good belly laugh weekly because of it. (So, maybe, don't shut up? Hmmm...that's a tough one. No, do shut up. Joel will find another target.)

And, that's all I have for one day. I'm sure that, in time, I can come up with a brand new list! Until then, I myself will just...shut up.

Championship Sunday, In the Books

2010-01-25T01:51:00.000-05:00

Things I noticed from the NFL's Championship Sunday, even though my own beloved Steelers saw fit to lose to unworthy opponents midseason, thereby eliminating even their contention on this most exciting of football playoff days (not that I am bitter):

**If I was a Jets fan who bought one of those pre-marketed shirts or hats which read "AFC Champions Jets" or some such thing, I would be both disgusted at the J-E-T-S JETS! JETS! JETS! and, more importantly, myself for being enough of a dumbass to buy a shirt or hat with a boast of a victory before my team even played the game of which they are claiming victor status. I'm not sure how many of these suckers are out there, but I guarantee you they don't come forward and show themselves. If I were one of these suspected folks, I would either shove that thing so far in my closet I forgot it existed or burn it. Seriously. That is going to be a hard thing to explain later on. (Like, anytime after about 6:30 this evening.) If you did this, you need to get rid of the evidence. Now.

**Do you think Eli Manning is secretly pissed off at Peyton when Peyton does so well and Eli has to watch from that cozy little box in the stadium? And, furthermore, do you think Peyton felt the same way several years ago when the roles were reversed and Eli had the amazing post season on the way to Super Bowl immortality? And, most importantly, do you think big brother Cooper is clamoring from somewhere in the background, "But, hey guys, I was just as good as you too! I'd be just as good as you now if it weren't for my gosh-darned back! Hey...guys?" I wonder about the dynamic between those Manning brothers more than is natural. Or healthy, really. (See: my recurring Eli/Peyton/Steph love triangle dream. Enough said, I think. I have problems.)

**Do you think Rex Ryan's head might actually, literally explode off his shoulders during one of his many tantrums? Even though his anger was quite proper in a few of those non-call situations, I think he needs to settle down before he strokes out. He's a big fellow. All that running around and fitting can't be good for his heart.

**Can Mark Sanchez eat a hot dog in peace now? For crying out loud, that kid was freaking good today. I like the "Sanchize" tag with which he's been saddled against his will. And speaking of him, wouldn't it have been a trip if the Jets had actually made it to the Super Bowl with their rookie quarterback, only to play against the team that beat the team with the Jets' old (emphasis on old) quarterback, who they hired last year specifically to give them their best shot at a Super Bowl, after which they failed to even make last year's playoffs? Isn't it still awesome that the Jets made it this far with this talented rookie QB, given that above outlined situation?

**Now that Jim Caldwell is coaching the Colts in the Super Bowl, do you think I might remember his name? This guy has to be the most low-key coaching figure ever because I forget his name about half the time. (Or it's just early onset alzheimer's.)

**Isn't it ironic that two of the biggest stars of the day were named Pierre and each played for the winning team? I mean, Pierre is hardly a common name, in the NFL or anywhere outside France. Or Montreal. I enjoy little trivial tidbits like that. Because I am an uber-dork.

**Which interception do you think bothers Brett Favre more: the one he threw in overtime as a Green Bay Packer against the eventual winner New York Giants, or the one he threw today to send the game into overtime against the eventual winner New Orleans Saints? I mean, that first example was, like, twelve retirements ago (i.e. 2008) and this one was only the last play of the season in which he was to redeem himself and make his "Favre Watch" melodrama look like good strategy instead of ridiculous adolescent indecision. I don't know, but he'll have some time to think it over...good golly, could he really be done for good? Does it matter right now, given that we do know he won't play another game this season? Shouldn't we just be thankful for small blessings?

**Do you think that poor little Saints kicker thought about the parade of missed field goals during this playoff season before he strolled onfield to make or break the hopes of an entire city of crazed, drunk hooligans? How drunk do you think he is on Bourbon Street right this very instant? How jealous am I of those drunks on Bourbon Street right now? (Don't answer that. I can tell you: plenty.)

Anyway, good for the Big Easy and good for old Peyton, too. This goes out to J.W., the Steelers fan from Indianapolis my sister and I hung out with at the Pittsburgh Hilton bar after the Steelers beat the Ravens a month ago. If he thought he had to hear about how "Fu%$ing Great" Peyton Manning was before today, I'm pretty sure he's in for it the next two weeks.

Good luck, buddy. You are definitely going to need. it. Stay strong. And, just for good measure, it's never too early to start: Go Steelers!!

The Greatest (Oz) Story Ever Told

2010-01-24T02:06:00.000-05:00

As my annual movie-centric time of the year beckons, I realize I need to get busy on prospective Oscar nominees and am grateful that I have a bit more time this year - the ceremony occurs in early March. However, the decision to nominate ten films for Best Picture will no doubt make my quest that much harder - a fact about which I am still confused and somewhat bitter.

Nevertheless, I can't help but pay homage to those classic films which have shaped my love of film. This need for tribute definitely came about because of the 70th anniversary DVD editions of two such cinematic marvels: Gone With the Wind and the wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Most people of pretty much any age can relate to some memory of the mesmerizing Wizard of Oz from childhood. I can't actually recall the first time I saw the film. It's just always been a part of my soul. My mom, being a serious film enthusiast herself, never held the fondness for Oz that I did, since Ms. Garland's voice "bugged" her. I, however, like millions of gay men before me, was fascinated by her and the entire production. Though it never became one of my "classic" obsessions, I am quite fond of all things to do with Oz. Re-living it through this new, restored edition, I am reminded of many afternoons in my living room as a kid, crouched down watching an old VHS copy of the film and singing along.

I also did the same thing with Gone With the Wind, though I don't know if all kids felt the same way. When I was in my Civil War phase (see: North and South scrapbook in my basement, created circa 1986) this was certainly a staple of mine when parked in front of the television building Lego houses or playing paper dolls with my little sister. I really believe that these viewings let me in on what was truly a cinematic masterpiece - somehow I understood the magnitude of it. Now that I am an adult and again watching this tremendous epic, I realize I genuinely, innocently missed some of the sexual nuance and feminist underpinnings of Scarlet.

But that's okay. In my heart, when I see both these films, I am a kid again in the living room, flabbergasted by what I see. When I watch the Oscar nominees for this year, I won't be cognizant of the influence on the way I view films.

But it's always with me, just like the joy of those early memories of these masterpieces.

Spectacular Spectacle

2010-01-19T18:15:00.000-05:00

"Some people" might like to say the television set is the source of all evil, with its inherently mind-numbing distraction from human relationships. (This is a coded way of saying Scotty P. likes to tell me I routinely rot my brain with some crap on TV.) I like to say it is the source of all that is good in this world and, as evidence, I point to the following, which would be lost to all humanity were it not for the good old boob tube:

**Little Miss Perfect - showing near-constantly on WEtv. (The second season just began this week.) WEtv is like Lifetime's wanna-be cousin who fancies herself more high-brow because she sends money to Feed the Children infomercials and is, therefore, informed about the plight of the world. Regardless of what you think about these so-called "women's entertainment" channels and their stereotypical portrayals of female wiles, there is no way (NO WAY) you should miss out on this little gem.

Little Miss Perfect is the name of a beauty pageant for children, seemingly always taking place somewhere in the south (often in the Carolinas) in a very ritzy venue. Like the ballroom of a Holiday Inn, with all the conference tables pushed into the corner. All the pageant moms are, um, well-fed. And obviously they have spent most of the family's disposable income on makeup, spray tans, and outlandish drag-queen ballgowns for their young, impressionable daughters who may or may not end up on the top of a stripper pole. (I'm not passing judgment on children in beauty pageants. I mean, teaching a five-year-old her main attributes lie in the quality of her blond hair extensions and fake eyelashes doesn't automatically mean you will saddle the kid with self-esteem issues...and strippers make good money here in the south, so there is that.)

Anyway, these kids and their overbearing moms are old news. We've all seen it before. That's not the reason you should watch. You need to see the pageant coach/coordinator/emcee, Michael Galanes. This guy is seriously underrated and he needs more facetime. He holds this entire debacle together with a wide smile on his unnaturally orange face, and manages to stay upbeat while in a constant search for the most perfect-est little girl ever.

Now, I'm not saying he is gay because he spends his time immersed in the world of beauty pageants. Nor am I saying immersion in beauty pageants will make you gay. I'm just saying. The dude is not a straight man. He's also entirely awesome. He infuses these B-level affairs with some serious enthusiasm. While he might tell a parent that winning is everything, he also reminds these kids to just have fun as they try to achieve that most attainable goal: perfection. He is a friend to each dysfunctional family equally.

He also sings what might be the greatest song ever written in the history of music - I can't explain it to you except to say, one line goes a little like, "there are misty-colored rainbows, on the o-ther...sii-iiii-iiii-de!" (Make sure the vibrato on "siiii-iii-de" goes on a while and shimmy your shoulders while you do it. I happen to serenade Scotty P. with this ditty quite often. He's a pretty big fan, as you can guess.) I love Michael Galanes. He's so cliched, he almost can't be real. Except he is. Glorious madness.

**Teen Mom - showing on (arguably) the most important social achievement of the last hundred years, MTV. Golly, where to begin? The name alone conjures up all sorts of images which can't begin to compare to this show's episodes. An actual train-wreck could sue this show for upstaging it.

Now, these teenagers aren't new characters. They are the protagonists from 16 & Pregnant, which aired over the past summer. Except now, the drama has moved up about a hundred levels as these poor kids try to raise their own actual poor kids. I'm not saying it makes parenting look completely wretched. I'm just saying that, as a thirty-something, it scares the crap out of me and makes me question breeding. Ever. This one experiment in reality television could do more to promote birth control than any number of public service announcements.

Some of these girls are truly sympathetic and do a fairly decent job, given their often lowly support systems and inability to financially prosper. Watching actual pain is not fun, and that's not why you should tune in. You need to see the ones who are selfish brats with families enabling their every bratty move.

That is mostly Farrah, with her mom who is basically ordered to watch the baby because Farrah tells her so. Obviously, Farrah needs to find a man, and being a teenager, she needs a social life. You know, I thought to myself, that makes perfect sense. Having a baby shouldn't preclude dates to the pizza parlor and mini-golf! Farrah's mom agrees. She often tries to talk sense into Farrah, as she holds the baby and yells while Farrah is doing her makeup to go out. Of course, I also thought to myself, I bet Farrah wouldn't go out so much if she had to, you know, work and pay bills and live on her own. But...details. Seriously. This show is fun, if only to remind you of your own sensible view on the world.

There are plenty of other instances I could go on about, but for now, this seems like enough. Although, no one could be complete without logging onto youtube.com to watch possibly the greatest spectacle of all time: General Larry Pratt's original hit, "Pants on the Ground." Even though I gave up on American Idol after the skeptacular Bo/Carrie disaster, this is worth your time.

Don't dare to try and get it out of your head - and why would you want to? It's terrific - in fact, just this past weekend, I wowed an entire crowd at a local Waffle House with my own rendition. (Granted, it was, like, 2:00 in the morning and the crowd was, well, slightly intoxicated and maybe easy to please, but still...Brett Favre reportedly pumped up the Vikings in the locker room before their beatdown of the Cowboys by singing his own version. And seeing how I hate Brett Favre and would never, EVER, compare myself to him in any way, I have to give him props for at least this. And, the world may have officially ended as I wrote that last sentence. I will go throw up now...)

So you see, stay tuned to the television and be amazed by your fellow humans on this planet. Find some time in your busy day for one little bit of spectacle. Or, if you'd rather, just wait for me to watch it and then ask me to recap it for you. Because we all know I will find that time in my day. It's how I roll. And I'm not about to stop now!

Looks Back, Wishes Ahead

2010-01-06T00:16:00.000-05:00

Last week, Dick Clark and I rang in not just another year, but another decade. There are many things to think about over the past year and last ten years. It's usually better to look ahead, however, and not back - even though this year will be the decade mark for my marriage to Scotty P. and the sad one-year anniversary since Pittsburgh's "City of Champions" title. But enough about all those nostalgic memories - here are a few things I personally can't wait for in 2010:

**Jersey Shore. Okay, I cheat a little because my addiction to this blessed bit of MTV goodness began last year. But, to be fair, it was pretty darn close to year's end and I can tell the madness is going to really heat up in the coming episodes. Why am I completely bonkers over some twenty-something Italian kids with dark tans and big hair? I can't really say. My sister and I have already spent hours analyzing our delicious attraction and haven't truly pinned it down. Does it matter? This is one mindless, fun distraction about which I won't apologize or feel embarrassment. Instead, run with it! (Fist pumping all night long!)

**LOST. It is bittersweet, knowing that the whole thing will wrap up and we'll know (hopefully) the answers to every burning question. And that is also the greatest thing ever. I can't wait for it to begin, and I will be sad upon sadness when it ends. It isn't often the writing and intrigue in a show can not only sustain, but get better each season. This one is primed to be a doozy. Maybe when it's all said and done and I have tons of free time on my hands - which Scotty P. would argue is, um, right now - I'll enroll in that "LOST University" through the BluRay disc and totally immerse myself in Dharma and Oceanic Flight 815 for good. Oh, won't that be the day? (I hope I can finally figure out that giant wheel and Faraday's mom and...oh, forget it. I'll just wait for J.J. Abrams to help me here in a couple of months...)

**The Twin Peaks Festival in North Bend, Washington. (Dates are not yet announced. I've checked.) I have no idea whether I will make all my dreams come true by actually attending this yearly event, but hope springs eternal. I would fit right in with all those oddballs still obessed over a show which ended in the early 1990's. ("Fit in" would be an understatment...) I have several ideas in mind for the costume contest. I would give a limb to see the recreation of the Black Lodge and those creepy red curtains. If I bone up on the DVD Gold Set, I might have a prayer in the trivia rounds. Cherry pie and damn fine coffee is starting to sound like a slice of heaven right now! I have big dreams to make it out to the west coast for the first time this year, and I can't think of a better catalyst than this! Wish me luck!

**Career guidance. I hate to get all serious here, but I am really anxious to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I have several plans in mind to get me on the right track to making that choice. It's not meant to be cryptic - I just need to ponder a few things and then will get back to you on this one. I do know that, one way or the other, I am headed to at least a toe or two on the right path.

**Jeff Probst and Ryan Seacrest coming out of their respective (gay) closets. Enough already, fellas. It's painfully obvious to me that you guys sincerely need to come clean and live your lives. I've recently re-watched a few episodes of Survivor and, honestly, Probst's shirts say it all. Seriously - this could be the year of truth.

Maybe there are more - I would certainly hope so! Right now, this is a good list to get me through these bitter cold days and dreary gray skies and, along with some beer, I should be good to go by springtime! Until the next time, Merry New Year and all that jazz!

Things the Steelers Ruined for Me, 2009 Edition

2009-12-08T08:46:00.000-05:00

So, the Steelers' record rests at six-and-six, and the playoffs loom ahead as opportunity for teams who haven't blown their fair share of fourth quarter leads over the past three months. We in Steeler Nation collectively weep into our beer-stained Terrible Towels and cry out in despair, "Why? Oh, the talent wasted! Oh, Troy, please come back and save us with your superhuman-ness! What the heck kind of defense is that? Are you seriously telling me we can't score a touchdown in the red zone against the Oakland Raiders? Oh, spare us from this never-ending nightmare!" (If you think this is exaggeration, you clearly have never done busniess with a die-hard Steeler fan...)

While some might wonder where to put that frustration, I will place mine squarely into this blog post, so appropriately titled. Here, dear friends, are the things now ruined for me - at least for the time being:

**My morning routine. I can no longer watch "Mike and Mike" on ESPN or, conversely, listen to them in my car on my way to court. No, they might inadvertently mention the NFL season and that could send me straight into apoplexy. Now, I have no direction while drinking my coffee and flip mindlessly through the channels trying desperately to avoid all sports information like the plague. When I come out of bed in the morning, Greenie and Golic don't greet me anymore like they have in the recent past. Ol' Scotty P. has that ridiculous Robin Meade from HLN blaring her cheesy pageant smile and I just can't take it for a minute. My whole start to the day wrecked. Thanks a bunch, black and gold.

**Christmas. You just know there will be packages under the tree filled with Steelers' trinkets and wares. And while I still love 'em with a white hot passion, every sight of black and gold memorabalia is currently like a kinfe in the gut, a reminder of what could have been. I'm sure this feeling may diminish in the next few weeks - especially if there happen to be at least a couple of wins mixed in there - but right now, this is where I am and I can't help it. (And I know I'm not alone, either.)

**Weekends in January. As if the post-holiday depression and weight gain isn't bad enough, I am slowy coming to the sad realization that my weekends will be devoid of football games about which I actually care. Nothing to look forward to when the tree comes down and the presents put away. No hope for that extra game in February. Gone, all gone. Blah.

**My motivation to cook dinner. I don't get any domestic traits honestly, so for me to actually get into the kitchen and cook takes some doing. Usually, I can put on "Around the Horn" (aka "Sports Shouting" for all you 30 Rock fans!) and listen to Woody and the fellows debate while whipping up one of my signature dishes - of which I only have several. All the sports stimuli truly gets me into the culinary spirit and, dare I say it, I find it enjoyable - especially when "Pardon the Interruption" follows. As you might guess, I can't watch these shows anymore and, thus, I have zero drive to cook anything. I hope we don't starve. I really, really do. But unless something turns around on the gridiron, I can't promise anything.

**My will to live. Just kidding - come on, now! I know I'm crazy about those stinky Steelers, but I haven't completely lost it! Especially when you consider there are still four more games on the schedule and if all the stars aligned just so and several AFC teams got lost on their way to the stadiums on Sunday afternoon and perhaps a few of them took pity on Pittsburgh and forfeited, we're still alive for a Wild Card spot!! Here We Go, Pittsburgh - Stairway to Seven, baby!!

Wants and Needs

2009-11-22T08:46:00.000-05:00

This time of year, one might be tempted to give in to the urges from advertisers that you "NEED" this or that or some other thing. One may find oneself bombarded with catalogues from Sears and Lands End and Bass Pro Shops every time the mailbox is opened. To combat this I shop consistently all year long, so that this time of year is no harder or easier than, say, the middle of March.

But I kid - kind of. It is easy to get caught up in looking around to marvel at all the stuff out there from which to choose. Sometimes, in the grocery store, I get a slight panic attack when I realize just how much food is in there. I remember the stories of foreigners from, say, the old Soviet Union who visited American supermarkets to nearly faint at the sheer amount of fresh food available at all times with no rations or shortages. These tales play through my head as I push my cart around and around and past all the aisles of wares I've never even looked at, let alone eaten. (An aside: I hate the grocery store. This is only one of many reasons why.)

As if this wasn't enough, Christmas piles on the pressure, even though it is often subtle. I'm fairly adept at ignoring most ploys, but sometimes I find myself pulled into a pile of overpriced sweatshirts and actually consider whether to purchase one. Then, I may see a pretty charm bracelet placed ever so conveniently next to this display and think, "Hmm. That would match so nicely." Before you can blink, I've racked up a potential price tag of over one hundred dollars.

Is it the soft Christmas music playing and the warm, homey smells of the small store? Why do I suddenly feel that I simply can not leave without these trinkets? I don't know how to answer this, but I quickly come to my senses and realize these are not necessities - especially at over one hundred dollars. Good golly!

Yes, that red sweatshirt and silver bracelet might be things I want - especially at that moment. But when I return home to find two excited pups and one smiling husband waiting for me, I understand precisely how much those things do not matter.

I do have all the things I need right here. All year 'round.

Impending Holiday Mayhem

2009-11-19T09:06:00.000-05:00

It's Mashed Potato Season - aka Thanksgiving and Christmas-time. Time for frantic holiday traveling schedules and overindulgence of food and drink. And I, for one, can't wait! Bring it on!

But, the hidden excitement for me in this time of year lies in the cinema. The quality films are set to debut, and there are more than a few I am anxious to see. Even though the list is mainly high-brow, there are several movies destined for no bigger an award than the MTV movie popcorn man - and I'm not ashamed to admit that. Don't count out a pleasure just because it happens to be guilty!

**The Twilight Saga - New Moon: Okay. Spare me the criticism. I have plenty of problems with Ms. Meyer's books and that could be a series of blog posts itself. But, no one could accuse her of not telling a damn fine story or failing to invent intriguing characters. And I might be the only person on the planet who found the "Twilight" movie somewhat more fascinating than the first book - it could be the stylistic director, Catherine Hardwicke of "Thirteen" fame, or the mystique of Robert Pattinson's oddness. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but it somehow penetrated my subconscious and, thus, I am looking forward to the next installment in a way even I had not anticipated. While I won't be able to muddle through crowds of squealing teens on the first weekend, I will catch it eventually. (FYI: I'm Team Jacob. Big time. How is that even a debate?)

**The Blind Side: My big weakness when it comes to movies? Sports stories. Even better? Football films. This true tale of Michael Oher's life and eventual draft into the NFL could be only mediocre and I guarantee I'll still shed tears. The trailer alone is kind of a weeper. But, the early reviews are that it's quite good and after reading a story about the real adoptive mother, Sandra Bullock's Leigh Ann Tuohy, and how she's such a pistol even Ms. Bullock was intimidated when meeting her, I'm so looking forward to this one. Strangely enough, "serious" movies are often uber-depressing and realistic. We already know this one comes out with a happy ending and so you can look forward to two hours of goodness.

**Precious: Definitely designed to make you squirm and think rather than feel good about yourself, this award season front-runner is high on my short list. Helmed by an unknown youngster, Gabourey Sidibie, and comic Mo'Nique, this is a dark inner-city tale of an abused teenager surrounded by poverty and bleakness. The acting is rumored to be devestating and the melodrama nearly on the brink. Having said that, one can guess my husband is hardly interested, as the trailer alone is way "too real" for him. As for me, I am pretty much frothing at the mouth to get my ticket. It can't get "too real" for me, as evidenced by my love of documentaries and films like "Sherrybaby." And I'm rooting for director Lee Daniels to become only the second African American nominated for Best Director at the Academy Awards. (John Singleton for "Boyz 'n the Hood" in 1991 is the first - and only, at this point. And a bit of trivia for you: Lee Daniels is openly gay, a fact which would make his nomination doubly influential in terms of Oscar history.)

**Invictus: The true story of Nelson Mandela, played by perennial good guy Morgan Freeman, and the inspirational 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa, this one is destined to be fantastic. If you don't know the almost too-good-to-be-true tale - which I didn't until the Espy awards this past summer - Nelson Mandela basically united a bloody, torn, damaged nation through rugby. While that is incredibly overly simplistic to the point of being offensive, I think we should all just see this Clint Eastwood movie. (What screams "Oscar" like Clint Eastwood?) To drive home the point - Matt Damon stars as the rugby team captain. Ahhh...what could be better than that?

**Brothers: After seeing the trailer while watching "Public Enemies" I became obsessed with this tale of two brothers, Jake Gyllenhaal and Tobey Maguire, and their war-influenced love triangle with one brother's wife, Natalie Portman. Again, this looks disturbing and dramatic and...awesome. It might not win any awards, but I'll be the judge of whether it wins a spot in my DVD collection. (Early odds indicate yes.)

**Up in the Air: I truly don't know many details about this new George Clooney film. But, knowing it stars George Clooney, what other details do you really need?

And I'll see you at the movies...after the last helping of mashed potatoes, naturally.

Spooktacular, Spooktacular

2009-10-28T10:19:00.000-04:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year: fall. The weather and leaves and smells are all great. But, really, it's the football which truly makes it all perfection. Our weekends in Morgantown for WVU games have simply been heavenly and this past Sunday, we capped it off with a bonus trip to Heniz Field to jeer Brett Favre to his first loss of the season. My sincere inner peace at this simple feat can not be exaggerated. There are no words. It. Was. Awesome.

Anyway, now it's all downhill to Halloween, which is one of my favorite holidays, even though I don't always get to dress-up anymore and my trick-or-treating is a past memory. But, I do make it a fine tradition to scare myself silly with some spooky flicks. I can enjoy the traditional "Halloween" and "Nightmare on Elm Street" and I'm not squeamish when it comes to gore. I had a fine time with "Sorority Row" and "Last House on the Left" - both the old and new versions. But, I thought I'd share some of my real favorites - not just movies, but true films:

**The Exorcist: Simply put, it's the single best, most frightening film ever made. Even now, having watched it a million times, I appreciate the underlying horror in every frame. The director's version with that new shot of the "backward stair-walk" caused me sleeplessness for a few days - and I was in my twenties.

**Rosemary's Baby: My absolute favorite in the genre, the tone of this movie is one I find most interesting. I've watched it so many times, I can recite the dialogue by memory. Mia Farrow is absolute perfcection. That devil rape scene? Pretty darn disturbing.

**The Sixth Sense: Nothing compares to the first time, but even after you know the reveal, the whole film holds up well. It's a modern masterpiece, I think.

**The Shining: Oh, Jack, you are something else. Nothing compares to the book for sheer terror, but this film, with its eerie wide shots and haunting score still gets under my skin. Classic.

**Picnic at Hanging Rock: Not your regular horror film at all, but if you have not seen this Peter Weir marvel, you should. It's got the creepiest foreboding dread and will certainly stick with you. Nothing outrageous happens, but I don't like to watch it by myself.

I hope to add to this list, as "Paranormal Activity" has arrived in Asheville. I love when tiny films like that take everyone by surprise. I also read a story that when Stepen Spielberg screened the DVD at this home, he walked into his hallway and found his bathroom door locked, which caused him to believe the DVD was haunted. Now, that's a movie I must watch!

Have a Ghoulishy Wicked Halloween. Don't get too scared!

Second Verse, Same as the First!

2009-10-07T10:55:00.000-04:00

It always amazes me how everything runs on a cycle and there really are no new ideas. (Except possibly in Quentin Tarantino's mind, which is another topic entirely.) Witness the latest installment of rewind: the television series "V."

There are several distinct examples of obsession from my childhood which reign above all the other more minor ones - my desire to be a red-headed orphan ala Annie, my bonnet-wearing days where I hoped to gain buck teeth and morph into Laura Ingalls, and then my love of lizard-skinned aliens in the "V" miniseries and the weekly serial. When I first saw those scaley skins under the fake human facade, I fell instantly in love - and to me, that does not mean that I just enjoyed the program a little bit. Oh no, when Steph finds something she loves, all bets are off: it's pure, unadulterated infatuation from that point forward.

To put this into perspective, I will tell you a little tale of my fifth grade year: I spent every recess putting on grand reproductions of "V" on the playground. Because I started the idea, I got to be Mike Donovan, played by the dreamy (to me at the time) Marc Singer. I knew the most about the "V" world and I brought the weapons to school, so I was in charge. (I realize that today, bringing fake guns to the schoolyard would get me expelled and possibly thrown into juvie. Let this be a lesson to the over-reactors out there: I am today a functioning member of society. Who at ten years old chased my classmates trying to stun them into submission every afternoon with a white plastic weapon. I think we can all see that not every kid with pretend artillery turns into Columbine-like murderers. It's worse. They could turn into attorneys.)

Anyway, I decided recess was not enough time to carry on my charade. So, I started inhabiting my role of Mike Donovan all day, everyday in school. I would not respond to "Stephanie" anymore - only Mike. I wrote Mike Donovan on my papers and talked in class incessantly about "V" and my theories on the plotlines. My less-than-desirable teacher wrote a note home to my mom about my behavior, but I don't think my mom ever got that note because what dumb-ass teacher gives a kid a note to deliver to their mother? Seriously. (I later got in trouble for that because, apparantly, if a dumb-ass teacher writes a note for a parent and hears no response, they assume the note never reached its intended destination. Oh well - I say I get points for trying, anyway...)

This was the first time in quite forever since I had really fit in at school and had any friends. Kids in my class would approach me on the playground and ask if they could be in "V" with me. Kids from other classes started to show interest, too. If I didn't like them much, I made them faceless, nameless aliens who would be gunned down unmercilessly at any given time. I waited with baited breath for Friday nights to spend that glorious hour watching "V" and planning my attack for Monday morning. It was a great highlight in my history, I can tell you.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. Pretty soon, I had to give up my daily acting (against my will, I might add) and go back to answering to my given name. It got cold outside in western Pennsylvania, so the days of gunning down aliens ended. I still loved "V" but came to a conclusion: not everybody was as "into" it as me. (This lesson has served me well throughout my life, too. Just because I spend every waking minute thinking about something I love a lot does not mean other people share my exuberance.)

And now, after all these years of re-watching grainy VHS tapes and upgraded DVD versions, there is a new installment ready to appear. Could it be any better than that old one? Probably yes, to a new generation. No doubt the special effects will have improved - though that fact alone makes me a little sad. I hold a special fondness for those old shaky sets. There won't be any Marc Singer in the cast (that I know of) but we do have Scott Wolf of "Party of Five" fame on board and Juliet from "LOST" so I don't think it's all bad.

I guess we'll have to wait and see. But for me, as I hearken back to those old days of "V" and the love I hold for it, I have an inkling I'll be dusting off the old version and popping that into the DVD player more than I will be transfixed by this new one. We'll see, of course. I'll try to post an update of my reaction after I've seen it. Until then, if I can get my hands on any plastic weapons, would anyone care to join me in my backyard for a game of chase-the-alien-and-stun-it-into-submission? No? Okay.

I didn't think so, really, but it was worth a shot.

Stuff I Learned From the Boob Tube

2009-09-30T21:58:00.000-04:00

And "they" say TV will rot your brain...whoever "they" are anyway:

**If you are married to a man who never lets you see him naked and has a strange past history, you very well could be married to a woman pretending to be a man. This seems quite preposterous, but I've heard it time and time again and it's even been on Oprah - not just once, but several times. And for crying out loud, everyone knows Oprah only deals in hard cold facts. So, do whatever you need to do out there to protect yourself from these types of con artists. Because this would be a hard thing to explain to the friends and family, you know?

**If you happen to be in front of Judge Judy for any reason, don't put your hands in your pockets. This ticks her off. As do a slew of other inexplicable behaviors, like trying to explain your side in a case. But, really, if you've decided that Judge Judy is the proper arbitor of any contested matter, then that's on you.

**If, by chance, you have killed a spouse in a certain way (i.e. drowning them in a hot tub/bathtub or pushing them from a mountain) and seemingly gotten away with said crime (i.e. you are free to marry again) don't decide to kill the new spouse in the same manner in which you offed the first one. It's suspicious. You tend to raise a few eyebrows. Then, they just tack on the first murder to the second, and that doesn't do your chances at acquittal any justice.

**In keeping with the above example, there are numerous creative ways to murder someone. Most are extremely effective, especially the slow poisoning. Or the fake robbery set-up with a dead witness. Or an axe to the head. Unfortunately, most killers get caught. But, at least give yourself a fighting chance by not using too much repetition.

**People don't understand that when you have a child, you are responsible for teaching them right from wrong. Small humans aren't necessarily programmed to just do what you tell them to do. You actually have to instruct them using this method called reinforcement and punishment. In this case, repetition is not only recommended, it is crucial. If you don't do this properly, there are several options available to you: Supernanny, Nanny 911, or learning the proper etiquette for jailhouse visits. I guess it's up to you, but I'd just go with common sense and realize that a kid is not the boss of me.

**Attorneys are not, as a general rule, attractive people who should be allowed before the camera, even if it's only for a lame bit about "getting money for you." Seriously, it's just one more example of my belief that we ought to go back to our roots and bring back the powdered wigs and costumes to the courthouses. Because some of these jokers who want to represent you need a serious makeover. And a good diet plan.

**Late at night, people will plunk down their had-earned cash for just about any piece of crap you want to sell them. Witness the popularity of the "Snuggie." And the "Snuggie for Dogs." I really think these people are just up late buying trinkets from infomercials because they are drunk off their asses. And speaking from experience, you've got to be pretty loaded before this stuff looks so appealing that you just can't wait 'til morning to call in that order.

So, stay tuned folks - because the life lessons just keep on coming! And they can't, they won't, and they don't stop!!

Happiness Abounds

2009-09-29T15:10:00.001-04:00

As promised, it's not all Negative Nelly around here - there are plenty of things for which I'm super-duper happy and I'm not afraid to say it!

**No list can be complete without mention of my two best friends - the dogs. After little Beagle Gracie suffered a seizure at the vet's office two weeks ago, I realize how deeply I care for both pooches. And though that experience was scary, it put things in perspective and I see how precious each day is. I'm thankful I have such terrific pets and such a fun little family with whom I can spend my days.

**I'm glad for my love of documentary filmmaking. I can't be sure where it started, but I have a very early memory of sitting in my parents' living room at about seven years of age watching a documentary on PBS about a Holocaust survivor re-visiting some of the camps in Germany as a grown woman. The impact of that has stayed with me and now, I am riveted by documentaries and the often painful stories they tell. The insights I've gained from such films are undescribable, and I'm grateful I can appreciate this often under-appreciated film medium.

**Although I often complain about having gone to law school and deciding upon that particular career, I am quite happy that I have such a degree and opportunity in my back pocket should I ever need it. Sometimes I don't think of it as a benefit - more as a curse or some sort of embarrassment. But, in reality, it's not something I'd give up. I might change some of my choices here and there as they relate to my career, but the main decision I'd probably keep the same.

**Above most other things, I am supremely happy to be lucky enough to have grown up in the Pittsburgh area. At one point in my life, I would not likely have counted this as a blessing. You really don't appreciate things as much as you should until they are removed from you. Now, this is such a large part of my heritage and I am most proud of it.

Thanks For Nothin...

2009-09-28T09:14:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, it is rewarding to think of all the things in your life for which you are grateful and take a moment to ponder life's gifts, both big and small. This is not one of those times.

Thanks for nothin':

**West Virginia PowerBall. Yet again, you let me down with your picking numbers which did not match the ones the computer picked for me. Now, I have to continue with my life's goals to make money and retire like a normal person with such goals. No magic dream vacation to some private island where I sip Mojitos all day long whilst laying about in the sun on a perfect beach of bliss. No endless shopping trips to the Kate Spade store where I get to buy things full-price and not off eBay. No payoff checks for my mortgage. No RV to drive to Mountaineer football games. Yeah, thanks for nothin'.

**Pittsburgh Steelers. You, upon whom I pin my entire week's happiness, can't seem to honor me with a win lately. I know you can't win them all. I'm not asking to win them all. How about winning more than you lose? How about that? Huh? Don't you know I am only one of millions in Steeler Nation whose entire Sunday night may be ruined after you allow the pitiful Bungals to score a touchdown after two consecutive 4th and 10 conversions? Yeah. Ugh.

**WVU Mountaineers. Okay, you aren't so bad as the Steelers. Yet. Let's keep it that way and forget that dreadful rainy performance in Alabama a week ago. Please.

**Academy Awards. Seriously, I wait all year for this night - which is bigger than most other nights in my life (unless the Steelers are in the Super Bowl which, at this point, looks like a longer shot than the West Virginia PowerBall, making the Oscars the premiere event of the winter in the Poling household) and I work diligently to see all nominated films. Now, you expand the field to ten nominees for Best Picture, so that unworthy commercial projects can be included and further reinforce the idea that the public's opinion is the same as critical opinion. Now, I love a dumb, guilty pleasure as much as or more than the next person - I mean, I own the movie "Hush" with Gwyneth Paltrow and I love that movie and no one will ever accuse it of being quality filmmaking. But come on. We don't need any more attention paid to these projects. Why mess with something which works for the most part and which makes me happy? Don't you know I am change-adverse? Please come to your senses after this year and change it back, so my little world can return to normal.

**Brett Favre. Can't you just suck in your umpteenth comeback so I could have that small bit of atonement? Maybe later? Okay.

All right, I think I'm done now. Whew. Feels better, I'll tell you that. Next up, I will accentuate the positive. For real.

Grow Up and Eat Some Scones

2009-09-09T10:09:00.000-04:00

Football season is mercifully upon us - thank goodness for small miracles! It's been a long, hard summer filled with endless replays of the Super Bowl - I just about have the on-field calls and announcers' play-by-play memorized, which means it really and truly is time for some new games to be played. Tomorrow the NFL will kick off at Heinz Field, where the defending world champions will get to business creating new magical memories for another season. Until then, around here it's all Mountaineers all the time...

Over the past weekend, WVU opened their first Pat White-less season in recent memory with a win at home - and, wouldn't you know it, it took me moving from Morgantown all the way to North Carolina to score season tickets to the 'Eers! Now, for every home game, I will watch WVU live and in person at Mountaineer Field and I will treasure every minute of it. I even came home with a new motto: "If you're lucky enough to drink a Heineken in the Blue Lot at 9:00 on a sunny Saturday morning surrounded by thousands of crazed Mountaineer fans, some of whom look as if they haven't yet been to bed, you're lucky enough."

But I digress. As many tailgates as I've attended over the past decade and a half (and I stress the word MANY) this one took the cake. It wasn't that the cast of characters had changed that much - a few additions and several old standbys from the good old days. It wasn't just that I got to park in the Blue Lot and sit in box seats - though that helped. It clearly was that I have changed. Dare I say it out loud lest it be true: I think I may have grown up.

We ate omelets and fruit salad and had a table and a tent and a small stove, set up by people who weren't out boozing until 3:00 in the morning. In fact, our tailgating crew was up bright eyed and ready at 7:00, not hungover at all. We drank cold beer out of actual coolers. I brought scones for crying out loud. Scones. I doubt I even knew such things existed several years ago when tailgating equaled someone stopping off at Sheetz to lug a case of Natural Light to the parking lot.

Yes, we truly were among the adults. And I belonged there. And it felt awesome. It's taken a while for me to make this transition, as I've spent so many years of my life in school or getting back into school, surrounded by students younger and wilder than me. (Okay, maybe not wilder, but certainly younger...)

Everywhere I turned, I saw families with small kids, indoctrinating them as they should into the Mountaineer traditions. Dads threw footballs with their sons, little girls bounced around in their replica WVU cheerleader outfits, moms sipped cocktails and their husbands grilled hot dogs and downed Bud Light. They've been there all along in the Blue Lot, kids growing up this way and fans bleeding gold and blue. Only, this was my first time as a part of it, to really see it through new eyes.

It often feels that things stay stagnant, that there is no meaningful change. But this time, I can say the change in me is remarkable. I'm not a different person entirely, but I do feel I've turned a corner I'm not sure I had foreseen I would.

And it seems right. I can't wait to get back there this weekend, to share another day of comraderie at Milan Puskar Stadium. I haven't decided what I will contribute to the tailgate yet, but the fact I am bringing something of worth is in itself a step forward. And even though I did see a beer bong after the game ended, I am confident I won't be on the receiving end of that. Those days are behind me. I am now (mostly) a grown-up.

At the tailgates, anyway. As for the rest of my life, we'll have to just wait and see...

They Went About As Far As They Can Go

2009-09-03T11:05:00.000-04:00

It's no secret I love 90210 - the old, vintage one, not the new, slick one. For Christmas, much to his chagrin, my husband bought me three seasons of good old 90210 on DVD. Lately, I've been pathologically addicted to Season 5, which is (in my expert opinion) the best, juiciest, most delicious season ever.

This should suprprise no one who even remotely knows me since Kelly's cocaine days are the highlight of the entire series! I could go on about this, analyzing my admiration for this season's highlights (Valerie's evil turn sleeping with Ray Pruit, Kelly burning up in that frat house fire and getting mixed up in Professor Findlay's cult of "evolution", Dylan's bad-ass trip to Mexico to rescue Erica, etc.) but I will spare you any more gory details of major plot points.

Last night, I realized there is even another reason to adore Season 5 and that would be the hidden reference to "Oklahoma!" Now, it also should surprise no one how much I adored being a part of the Parkway Playhouse's cast of "Oklahoma!" over the summer. I have only recently ceased my near-daily replay of the soundtrack on my iPod, but still admit to random snippets of the performance in my home - you could find me with a certain Beagle and Chessie singing "Farmer and the Cowman" while enjoying a little jig...

Anyhow, in a conversation between Andrea and Peter - the doc with whom she's having a not-very-secret affair while Jesse is off interviewing for judge clerkships all over the country - she mentioned casually that one potential job might take Jesse to Kansas City. In response, Peter says, "I hear everything's up to date there!"

HAH!! Who knew those 90210 writers were so savvy? Not me, I tell you - not until last night. When I heard that, I swear that I sat straight up on the couch, disturbing two snoring dogs snuggled with me, and my mouth flew wide open. Had I heard that right? Had one of my favorite shows really and truly referenced the single greatest experience of my entire life? Upon rewind, I was pleasantly reassured that, yes, it had. As if Season 5 didn't have enough highpoints, I had found one more.

It only goes to show that just when you think things couldn't get any better...you get an off-hand "Oklahoma!" comment and they do. While this might not work for everyone out there, it sure brightened my evening.

It might not take much to make me happy, but I can't apologize for that - there are 3 more discs of Season 5 to relish! Game on!!

Yes, I Can!!

2009-09-01T11:18:00.000-04:00

Below you will find the sure-fire tips to successful home canning, developed by none other than...me. (**Note: These steps will take between 8 and 12 hours to complete, so be prepared.)

Step One: Pick your vegetable of choice. For me, it's tomatoes. Endless piles of smelly tomatoes, lined up as far as the eye can see...

Step Two: Pick out the ripest ones and discard the gross ones. Try not to throw up due to weak stomach and dislike for tomatoes. Wash the vegetables and lay them out to dry on a clean dishtowel.

Step Three: Realize you don't have enough clean dishtowels, so begin a load of laundry to get ready for task at hand. Also realize you have never washed that cute little purple Woodstock tank top and decide you want to take that on the weekend trip to Morgantown and wash that too. Also realize you may need the new jean skirt clean to complete the outfit. Decide to start with the delicates, so you'll be ready for next weekend - since you'll spend most of your waking moments between now and then on the tomatoes.

Step Four: Wait for the laundry to dry. Spend said time reading the third novel in the "Twilight Saga" even though you are just about sick to death of Bella's longing and whining. Nevertheless, decide that "Eclipse" is a way better book than the first two and begin to strategize how to get your hands on that fourth one as soon as possible.

Step Five: Look longingly at tomatoes on counter. Make a pouty face.

Step Six: Find something delightful on television to occupy your mind. Discover an episode of "Law & Order:SVU" and watch the first few minutes. Come to conclusion that the tomatoes can wait until the episode is over.

Step Seven: Who are you kidding? Everyone knows you can't watch just one episode of "Law & Order:SVU." Get comfortable!

Step Eight: Get tired of the couch and meander to the kitchen. Boil water.

Step Nine: Find a good-ass movie (or several) to keep you company for the duration. Try to stick with themes from the DVD collection. One real-life example might be "fun teen flicks" like Cruel Intentions and Mean Girls. Another might be "instant modern classics" like Boogie Nights and Jackie Brown. This step is absolutely, positively the most crucial part of turning canning into a pleasant experience. If this step goes awry, it is literally all down hill from here. Do not ignore my warnings.

Step Ten: Soak tomatoes in boiling water and begin the arduous task of peeling and cutting. Make a huge mess on the counter and watch as tomato juice spills down the cabinets and onto the floor. Marvel at the quickness of a beagle to lick spilled juice from floor and thus become permanent fixture in kitchen as she impatiently awaits more spillage.

Step Eleven: Boil mason jars for 5 minutes to prepare to fill them with boiled tomatoes. Become anal about these steps as one does not wish to cause botulism.

Step Twelve: Decide that time has come to begin drinking due to extreme heat in kitchen. Rummage through all available brands of beer in refrigerator to determine just the right one. Real-life examples might include a nice Blue Moon or Yuengling.

Step Thirteen: Skip this step due to superstition.

Step Fourteen: Watch tomatoes boil. Remove jars from water with special tongs and avoid splashing hot water on self. Fail at the last step and cuss as water burns small patches on skin.

Step Fifteen: Fill jars with tomatoes. Replace in boiling water. Notice water seems less hot. Cuss as you see that burner is not working (again) and try to slide burner back into position without placing bare hand on scorching metal. Cuss profusely as sweat seeps into eyes and makes job much more miserable.

Step Sixteen: Finally get burner to work and start timer for 40 minutes. Begin clean-up process. Continue the drinking for sanity's sake.

Step Seventeen: Throw all tomato residue into bag to be dumped into the "Comp-gross" pile. Stick said bag outside to wait for husband to actually dump it due to aforementioned weak stomach.

Step Eighteen: Sit back and take a load off, admiring all the hard work you were able to accomplish in the past 10 or so hours. Decide as you sit that you are absolutely disgusting and head for the shower.

Step Nineteen: Get ready to do it all again tomorrow, due to the endless piles of tomatoes that await you...

**Adendum: Shortly before this writing, but after the idea for this writing, that sad little broken burner actually burnt itself out for good. Thus, the tomato canning has been put on indefinite hold until a solution can be reached. Updates will be provided as new information is received. Until then, it looks like "Eclipse" and movie classics uninterrupted by stinking tomatoes!! Cheers!

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

2009-08-20T12:08:00.000-04:00

What I did (and did NOT do, since updating my blog certainly falls into that second category!) over my summer vacation:

**I did not reflect constantly on my life, obsess over the way things could all fall apart dramatically at any moment, worry, or otherwise occupy myself with negativity. Instead, I chose to live for the moment, make spontaneous decisions (like buying a pair of Calvin Klein jean shorts...full price...not on any sale...and with relatively minor guilt after talking myself into doing so) and just concentrate on day-to-day happiness. This is easier than one might think, once a pattern is begun.

**I spent two glorious, forever-treasured months in the cast of "Oklahoma!" at The Parkway Playhouse and, honestly, it changed my life. Something opened up in my brain and screamed out, "HEY!! Remember how you used to linger in this creative outlet all the time? Wake up and get back to it!!" If I could become a permanent, lifetime member of this cast, I totally would. I might be one of only several other members (and you know who you are) but I wish I could relive it. I also spent enough energy relishing every moment of it that I don't feel regret or sadness when I dwell on those memories. I only feel joy.

**I took minor setbacks in stride and learned it doesn't make a bit of difference in the long run anyway. It does, however, help in the moment to make my life easier and more enjoyable.

**I cheered loud and clear for the Pittsburgh Penguins' Stanley Cup win and found great joy in being a member, albeit however far-removed, of the City of Champions.

**I turned 35 years old and realized I need to get my life on track. Instead of lamenting over this decision, I also formulated a plan and, so far, have kept the plan on track. (I also got a Wii for my birthday and will attempt to balance my future plans with playing Madden. Goals abound, you see!)

**I became a bit addicted to Guitar Hero while at my sister's house and have (so far) resisted buying one of my own so as not to derail the aforementioned plans for my future.

**I made some good friends in my new town who reminded me there are places I do indeed fit in and make a contribution.

**I took holidays, relaxed, laughed, and soaked up every ounce of exuberant joy I possibly could.

Of course, there are always constants, which are necessary. One thing I have yet to figure out: Brett Favre. As I've always claimed, I will be dead and he'll still be playing quarterback in the NFL.

Maybe, to spin that into a positive, I should be thankful - it looks like I have one more year left in me!!

Mortal Words

2009-05-18T22:59:00.000-04:00

Every day you live, you are technically closer to death. Sobering thought. It reminds me of when I worked in the psychiatric hospital with the inpatient adolescents. We had one particularly inquisitive young lady who would walk around the unit and ask, "Am I going to die?" over and over and...over. Again. All day long.

One day, a clever medical resident answered her with, "Why, yes, you are. Someday. We all are going to die." Though it startled (and amused) me at the time, it also seemed to calm the poor kid down. And it's often replayed in my head over the years because it's simple and true: yes, we are all going to die.

You just hope you can go out with dignity and at an appropriate age. That last part is always funny to me because, the older you get, the younger that age seems to feel once you reach it. Doubtful you'll ever turn over a birthday and think, "Well, this is an appropriate age to die! See ya later then!"

Today, I discovered that despite my youthful appearance, mental age of twelve years, and tendency to wear my hair in a ponytail, I am getting older. I've begun to face up to the fact: as much as I'd hoped never to grow up and mature, I can't help but age.

Cooincidently, HBO Documentary Films is debuting their series on Alzheimer's disease. I've TiVo'd all the episodes, but I haven't brought myself to watch them yet. Tonight, I"ve started down that road and discovered how depressing and fascinating it all is. The idea of growing old is not scary in and of itself - but the thought of losing your sense of spirit is terrifying.

It's that last part which causes the fear. What happens when you no longer remember those tidbits of memories which make you who you are? What do you really become then?I hope desperately that I won't ever find out - not that I"d really know in that state whether or not I knew. But...still. It's all just another good reason to write my thoughts down, to keep faith in words. Later on down the road, I might appreciate it more that I could ever imagine.

And if not, I'm certain it will provide a chuckle here or there - whether from me, or those closest to my heart.

Guess What? I'm Back, Baby!

2009-05-12T22:57:00.001-04:00

I've begun to emerge from my long fog of "word hiatus" and thus, my posts should go on from here as previously scheduled. In the past month, I have experienced/realized/enountered the following:

**I re-examined my mental health and decided it needed attention. And I am giving it its due care. Have you heard how much I love therapy? I could literally go everyday...and I"m not kidding. (Though, my plan only includes weekly sessions...for the time being.)

**I've immensely enjoyed the Penguins' playoff success...and thorougly detested their recent loss in Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals...and I have faith they can pull out a win in Game 7 to advance. Let's Go Pens! (Amidst the warm, spring weather, I feel a draw toward cold Canadian hinterlands this time of year and find myself cheering for "blood on the ice!")

**I visited Twin Peaks on several weekends, from the comfort of my cozy new bed. And though I never left my home, the trip was as "trippy" as I remembered and more so. I will visit again in the future, I am certain. (Thank goodness for the Definitive Gold DVD Box Set - David Lynch, I could kiss you!)

**My job became almost unbearably ridiculous, but this has motivated me to get my act together and think about my future. This thinking stage could last a while, but it's a new start anyway.

**The sunny days have been heaven and I've noticed the greenest greenery around me, awakening me from my "winter coma" just in time for new flip-flops and sundresses. (Of each, I have purchased several versions and I relish the chance to wear them!)

**Brett Favre insists on continued torment of my psyche and I've decided he should concentrate a bit more on his own emotional health, as I think he may be mentally ill. I try so hard to ignore his repeated attempts at harrassment. I've only mildly succeeded, as expected. Really? Deja vu all over again...

**I have a renewed focus on my writing. And I vow to keep it, no matter what happens in the next month, or two or three.

Ahhh, the sweeness of a rejuvenated soul!

Life Just Is...

2009-04-14T07:41:00.001-04:00

I'm up and ready to go - though not by choice. The past few weeks have been a struggle, internally and outwardly. It's tough sometimes to push yourself to keep going and going when all you'd like to do is crawl under the covers with a good DVD marathon (like, Twin Peaks or 90210's Fourth Season).

Nothing bad happened, no trauma. Just life. Sometimes, that's enough to drive someone back to bed for a while. I am confident it will pass and as the days get warmer and longer and brighter, my energy and mood will follow right along.

Until then, I'll count my many blessings and keep right on "keepin' on." The week's bright spots will help: NHL hockey playoffs and the Pens' upcoming match-up with Philly, a new book to read.

And my sincere belief in all things rosy.

Anniversary of Sorts

2009-04-05T09:55:00.000-04:00

It really stinks when you have to work harder than you would like and it robs you of your fun time. I can't exactly complain because my job is flexible and mostly cake, but still. I like to blog, read, watch movies, and screw off on the internet better than I like to work - even at a flexible, cake job.

But, enough of that. A year ago this week, on the eve of the NCAA men's basketball final, I decided to start a blog. The next day, before the Monday night activities, I wrote my very first blog post. I hoped this exercise would get me writing more, hopefully push me into a motivated, disciplined state. I had big, fantastical dreams of getting that memoir finished or being discovered, plucked from obscurity and handed a super-duper contract for my unique, insighful ideas.

Okay, not really. But I did hope to better my written skills and become a more consistent writer. I think it probably has happened, to an extent. I find myself more expressive, more often. I no longer have fear of others reading my work. My writing has become (I think) more streamlined, my words chosen carefully to be succinct.

Mostly, this blog provides a real opportunity to connect with other people. I've had some random comments from strangers, which shows folks stumbled upon my words and read them all the way through. That is kind of scary and neat all at the same time.

So, hopefully the next year will bring even more fun. And hopefully, that basketball game tomorrow night will be just as exciting as last year. I know I live in North Carolina right now, but...Go Spartans!

Dancing Stars of Nonsense

2009-03-27T10:37:00.000-04:00

I have a love/hate relationship with several things and though I try to keep it under control, I just can't sometimes. Such is the case with "Dancing With the Stars."

After last time, I swore off the whole thing. Brooke Burke and her do-nothingness drove me to the brink of insanity, and the judges are ridiculous. (Except Bruno, who is kind of awesome.) I really and truly meant the words, "I'm not watching anymore. That is it."

And then I saw the new lineup of stars and, well, damn it. I had to tune in. Shawn Johnson, for crying out loud. The only other way they could hook me bigger would be a Pittsburgh Steeler. Gymnastics is my other true weakness and so, here I am again, beholden to that (has to be) rigged Monday night fiasco.

I don't watch the whole thing live, as those days are far behind me. There are highly specified rules. I DVR the episode Monday night and only watch after it is completely over or the next day. I only watch the dances, except for my favorites for whom I will sit through the practice highlights. (This is currently Shawn, Steve-O, and my little pocket cowboy, Ty Murray.) I don't watch the judges' comments if I hear any negativity. And, most importantly, I can not hear one peep from Samantha Harris, lest my entire head explodes right here in my living room.

After all these built-in safeguards, I still find myself riled up frequently. There is no Tuesday results show for me, save the last five minutes when I see who is going home. And even so, I can't keep myself from angry outbursts - and it's only like the second elimination. Ugh.

Why must I get so deeply involved in this ridiculous so-called competition? Because I like to feel the passion that comes with being involved. The win is made so much better when you've gone the distance. Likewise, the loss is that much more bitter, but with the highs come the lows.

I wish I could feel a different way about it, but I can't. We'll see how it all plays out, but so far it is not looking so great. When Teletubby clone Steve "The Woz" Wozniak is still bumbling around and Denise Richards is gone already, you know you might be in for another long, long season. (Not that she was good, but she could at least walk straight. I suspect the Cloris Leachman phenomonen...)

I'll try to remain somewhat sane throughout, though I won't make any promises. Obviously, after last season's vow never to return to this forsaken show, we all know how those promises work out anyway.

Reimagine Your History, Kids

2009-03-14T23:15:00.000-04:00

My family insists I practice "revisionist history" on a regular basis, meaning I tend to "creatively reimagine" events from the past. I deny this vehemently and really believe my own press - I don't think I do it. It's just that everyone remembers the facts a certain way and I contend my memories are closest to the truth. So...there you go.

This past week, I have partaken in two films where imagined history is a large part of the plot. The first is "Watchmen" which is popular, mainstream, anxiously awaited, and gloriously violent in its heightened over-the-top fashion. I enjoyed it, even though I have no familiarity with the graphic novel and did not know the story going in.

The strong movie style fascinated me nonetheless, and part of that dealt with the film's ability to place the fictional Watchmen in all the important parts of history. It created a brand new version of the familiar world in a satisfying way, so that you felt the on-screen events truly could have been just that way. That blended reality with pure fantasy made for a deep, insightful trip into a strange, yet plausible universe of moral and cultural dilemmas. This is just the type of film you can discuss for hours afterward - always a treat.

The other film was completely unknown to me before my sister alerted me to its showings on IFC. Unfortunate, really, that more people haven't seen it and I hope that changes after reading my highly influential blog posts. (Sarcasm intended, naturally.) It is called "CSA: Confederate States of America." From this point forward, whenever I am asked of the most terrifying film ever, this will be my response.

This is a mockumentary from a very highly reimagined, scary world that could have been, at least in the minds of these particular film makers. After the South won the "War of Northern Aggression" the Confederate States of America went through, as you might imagine for yourself, radically different experiences. In this version of reality, Britain has made a "documentary" which chronicles this new America's history, from Abraham Lincoln's exile to Canada to present day high-tech gadgets to keep your slaves from taking off.

This film is a marvel, in that the documentary - done in PBS-style, with dry narration and clips from "films" made throughout history - is spot-on. The acting matches in such a truthful, authentic manner, you're sucked into thinking it could be real. (In fact, I had moments of panic when I thought of some redneck stumbling onto this, not knowing what it was, and thinking it was some racist, facist propoganda for their ridiculous positions. Then, I tried to tell myself that most stereotypical rednecks don't stumble upon the Independent Film Channel very often...or, at least, I hope not.)

The clincher is it comes complete with fake commercials - for pills you get from your "veterinarian" to keep slaves calm and submissive, offensively modeled fried chicken establishments, and horribly named tobacco products, among others. This is what really crawled under my skin. Though I admire the finished product, I took a break in the middle so I could watch from beginning to end: it just felt too disturbing. And when I did get to the end, I found an even bigger surprise awaiting me which provoked even more feelings of unease. (I won't say what that is, because you are all going to rush out and watch this!)

So, history reimagined both made me think and scared me out of my wits. But, it intrigued me too. Because history is precarious, prone to differences we live with just because that's the way it ended up - and we don't often spend hours upon hours thinking of how it could have been, given a few alternate moves on the board. And as strange as things seem to be, it seems things have worked out okay for us so far - as compared to the terror-ific alternatives.

I hope when we look back from ten or twenty or one hundred years in the future, we still think the same thing.

Mad About March Madness

2009-03-11T08:19:00.001-04:00

January and February are pretty blah months, when you think about it. Even though I love the events during that time (The Super Bowl, The Oscars, etc.) the actual time of year is pretty depressed. It's cold, it's snowy, it's dark, it's dreary.

But, the past few days have been filled with sunshine and warm breezes and, though I've been super busy in my life, it fills me with an energy I desperately need. And to top it all off...

It's Selection Sunday this weekend, which means the NCAA March Madness is upon us! Yea! Something to look forward to each day and night, game upon game where you cheer for teams you may have never heard of before and get involved in the latest, greatest Cinderella team of the tournament. Which was sw-eeeeeet when that team happened to be WVU a few years ago. ("You've been Pittsnogled!")

I'm ready to get my brackets down to a science and I can't wait to see how things turn out. Things like this make odd bedfellows, as they say, when you find yourself rooting for schools and people you otherwise might detest, or ignore completely. As of now, Florida is one bubble team on the outs for the big dance and that alone is one early mark in my "win" column. We'll see what else comes to pass on Sunday evening.

Ahh, it's nice to have some big time sports competition to distract me from regular, real life. Time to cut down some nets!

Circular History

2009-03-05T22:01:00.001-05:00

Everything old is new again...or something like that. Yesterday, I heard a new Offspring song on the radio. A few minutes ago, I watched a preview for "Last House on the Left." Noah Wyle is on ER tonight. What year is it anyway?

My deduction: there are really no new ideas out there. Things just go 'round and 'round. ("Like a record, baby, right round..." This ditty is being sampled on a new tune, by the way.) Leggings are a good example. I wore them in high school and when I saw them return in present day, I vowed to resist. This too failed. Check my closet for proof.

Might as well give up and roll with it. Whether it be politics, pop culture, or fashion, we can all just buckle in and ride the cycle again. I hope someday we will learn from mistakes in the past, lest we be doomed to repeat them. (For example, spandex and bodysuits. These should be relegated to the halls of West Beverly High for repeated DVD viewings of 90210, not beyond.)

But wisdom like that, too, is about as likely as Michael Jackson really going into retirement as he so claimed. It just is not the way things work, be they big or small.

Banned Together

2009-02-25T12:51:00.000-05:00

If you are a fan of Mike and Mike in the Morning on ESPN, you know that when they receive disagreeable e-mail comments they will "ban" people from the show for specific periods of time. There have been lifetime bans, month-long bans, and bans for only a day or two. I've decided to take a page from that playbook and "ban" some things of my own.

Lifetime ban to all cheesy furniture outlet commercials. Here in Western North Carolina, the offensive annoyance is Mattress Max. The people on television should not be permitted before the camera. Ever. And they think they are bloody Hi-Larious, with their geeky little promos. ("Mattress Max will save you mo-neeeeeeey!") Um, no. This is not indiginous only to this area, as everyplace I've ever lived had their very own version. (see: "Chuck's Furniture Mart" in Morgantown. You know where it is: "to the right, to the right, to the right of the Morgantown Mall.") Ugh. Go away low-budget, self-produced horrors of advertising. You. Are banned.

Lifetime ban to American Idol and any remnants from said show. I know my bitterness rises from the skeptacular Bo/Carrie finale, but really. I think we know now that the winner of this show is not necessarily the best singer from the group. (i.e. Jennifer Hudson, superstar loser.) So, can we put it to rest? It's on seventeen times a week, it sucks the energy from everything in its path, Randy hasn't given a sounder critique than, "Wow, dog, you are...wow, dog" since Season Two and Paula continues down the incoherent rabbithole in which she is queen of her own little world. To top it off, even I know about Sanjaya and that pathetic crying little tweener in the crowd - and I don't watch the darn thing! Enough already. This is what has created the horror known as The Jonas Brothers. (I don't need proof. I just know that's true.) You are banned, the lot of you. (You too, Jonases. Now, go away.)

Lifetime ban to the Octuplet Mom. Go home and take care of the FOURTEEN kids you now have through artificial means. You asked for those fertility treatments and obviously, that worked out. Right or wrong, I am so incredibly tired of hearing about her and her gaggle of offspring. I understand that these kids might lose in the end, but there are lots of kids out there born with the short straw. It's sad. Life isn't fair. This lady certainly did those kids a disservice and I'm truly sympathetic - for the kids. But can we let her fifteen minutes of fame expire? Please? Banned, I say!

Whoo. I feel better now that I got those things off my chest. So, everyone say it with me now: Banned Together!

Oscars and Beyond

2009-02-23T11:04:00.000-05:00

My sister got married last year and afterward, she described a condition wherein new brides have a post-partum-like depressive period when all the pomp and circumstance is over. I think now that the Oscars and Super Bowl and football season and holidays are all said and done, I may enter that same blue time myself. But, before I go, one more post to honor this most wonderful time of year!

So, the Oscar producers certainly mixed it up. They veered away from the traditional order of business and handed out the awards in a totally different sequence. All I could think was, "What if nominees, as I would if I were there, counted on that same-old order and went to the bar to get a drink and missed their category completely? Do you think someone warned them beforehand? I hope so!"

They tinkered with the stage and props, added a bunch of bells and whistles, and poked a lot more fun at Hollywood than usual. I can hear the rumblings from staunch purists (like, me!) But, although change is sometimes hard, by the end I decided I liked most of them (though not all.) This morning, I see online that many of my favorite parts are everyone else's pet peeves. Go figure.

But, most importantly, the winners! I personally adored the five past actors giving little speeches to the nominees, in place of the tired old film clips. It might not be for everyone, but it touched me to see true emotion on the nervous nominees' faces when honored by acting legends like that.

Penelope Cruz's win for Best Supporting Actress - not surprising, but satisfying. Heath Ledger's family certainly spoke with heart and emotion, and though I was prepared for that moment, it still left me teary-eyed. Kate Winslet finally made it to the podium and her bit about practiced speeches in front of her bathroom mirror really hit home for me. (I am guilty of such tricks to this day!) And Sean Penn? Awesome, deserved, funny, humble (for him) and lovely. A terrific and important moment.

"Slumdog Millionaire" really had its moments, and props must go out to all involved in the film. (For a minute there, it seemed all of India might join them onstage to accept the big prize!) My personal favorite: all those little kids. If you've seen the movie (and now, you all have no excuse not to!) you know the importance those children play and how precious their cinematic performances. It tickled me to see them recognized, almost as much as Danny Boyle's shout-out to Tigger! My love for him shot up tremendously in that moment, as we both apparently hold great affinity for Winnie the Pooh.

I don't know if next year's telecast will return to the more traditional version or not. It would be nice to see them incorporate some of the best ideas from last night's show and move toward more innovation. Regardless, I can take a small break from super manic movie-watching and go back to my normal habit of just plain old movie mania.

In closing, this year was most satisfying, even though my fave film did not win. I can't take a thing away from "Slumdog Millionaire" because it really is a great story. So, another year down and another new crop of movies on the horizon. Before we totally move on, just a couple personal highlights of mine:

**I loved when "Man On Wire" balanced that Oscar on his nose and did a magic trick! But my first thought as he ran up there, when I saw his eyes glance skyward? "Oh my gosh, dude's going to climb something!" (Hee!)
**Seth Rogan and James Franco in the "Pineapple Express" bit about the alleged comedies? Brilliant, especially when they showed the "Milk" kissing scene. That truly was laugh-out-loud funny. (And a reminder that James Franco got seriously snubbed.)
**Hugh Jackman did an opening song! I had resigned myself to only having that luxury when Billy Crystal hosted. As soon as it ended, I thought to myself (and said aloud to my husband), "I must learn that!" (And for those who don't know, my sister and I can sing all Billy Crystal's little parodies from each year, on cue, anytime you ask us. Add this one to the list - give me a day or two.)

So, that's it. I guess my Oscar posts have come to an end. Boo-hoo. On the other hand, it's never too early to start prepping for next year! Yay for art and flim and acting and great perfomances and movie stars! (And, in passing, yay for whoever coined the phrase "Angeloony" in description of those, like me, completely infatuated with Angelina Jolie. That is just too good - as is she.)

See ya next time!

Oscar Watch 14.0

2009-02-22T13:59:00.000-05:00

This is it. Movies are watched and picks are made - in the big categories, in the little ones, all the way around. The competition within the family is always furious - the winner of the pool gets bragging rights and that's about it, but apparently for us, it's enough. Even though I see many of the nominated films, I don't always win the pool, usually due to my incessant need to go with what I want to win and not what will likely take the prize. We'll see how it goes this year! Drumroll please...

Best Picture: I picked "Slumdog Millionaire" because I bet it will win. If I were an Oscar voter with a real ballot, I'd still pick "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." It stands out even now as the most well-rounded of all the films, and I will stand my ground on that.

Best Director: I'll go with Danny Boyle for "Slumdog Millionaire" though I'd love to see David Fincher get it for "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." His ability to combine cutting edge special effects with deeply moving performances in an epic film amazes me.

Best Actor: A close call, but I'm going with Sean Penn in "Milk." Incidentally, this is also my choice as the best of the year. Mickey Rourke comes a close second and I won't be surprised if he won, but Sean Penn's Harvey Milk resonates more and more.

Best Actress: Another close one. I've picked Kate Winslet in "The Reader" in a real slugfest with Meryl Streep in "Doubt." I think Kate wins it by a hair and is my choice as the best. Though I do agree with some recent rumblings that if any other actress acted as well as Meryl Streep, she'd win hands-down. Meryl Streep is so good in everything, it works against her apparently.

Best Supporting Actor: Of course my pick is Heath Ledger and everyone in the pool, even those who typically go against the grain, has picked him. Alive or dead, it's the best performance of the bunch this year.

Best Supporting Actress: Might as well stick the names in a hat and pick one randomly. These ladies are all so good, I still can't decide. I finally marked my ballot for Taraji P. Henson in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" but don't even know as of now if she's really my choice as the best. Anyone who wins this one deserves it wholeheartedly and it should be exciting just to see who does take it. I think it might be Penelope Cruz, but as evident with my pick, I think the advance buzz could be wrong. Good, tense races like this make it fun!

So, the tension builds until the big spectacle tonight. I'm especially anxious to see Hugh Jackman as the host and for the rumored Baz Luhrmann song-and-dance numbers. Most of all, I can't wait to see who wins what, what surprises may come, and which stunner packs the most emotional wallop. (Last year, hands down, it was Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard winning Best Song for Falling Slowly from the remarkable indie hit "Once.")

There's always something which warrants a rewind - and if you don't believe me, stop by sometime and we can review the Oscar ceremonies from the past fifteen or more years. Happy watching!

Oscar Watch 13.0

2009-02-22T08:52:00.000-05:00

Today, there will be two posts: this final review post and then my own picks for the Oscar ballot. So, with no time to waste, I must get to it!

Penelope Cruz is nominated as Best Supporting Actress for "Vicky Cristina Barcelona." This is Woody Allen's latest relationship comedy and it delivers. I have not traditionally placed Woody Allen on the same pedestal as other film geeks, but I generally enjoy his work. This film places Rebecca Hall (Vicky) and Scarlett Johansson (Cristina) in Barcelona with Javier Bardem (Juan Antonio) and gives them all sorts of sexy scenarios in which to play out fears and desires. Penelope Cruz joins in as Maria Elena, Javier Bardem's unstable ex-wife, who complicates the interludes with her antics.

The film overall is pleasant and provocative. I enjoyed it and could watch it again, as the dialogue and acting are sharp. Mostly, it looks fabulous. The Spanish landscapes are gorgeous and a testament to Spain's obvious beauty. (To quote Liz Lemon on 30 Rock, "I want to go to there.")

Penelope Cruz really brought this film to another level. At her first introduction, you think her inclusion could melt into jealous sterotypes and simply add tension to the semi-established relationships. But it is not the case. Credit goes to Woody Allen's writing, but also to Penelope Cruz's ability to make Maria Elena likeable, yet unbalanced in a somewhat understandable way. And her character's decisions seem to make sense - to both those onscreen and the audience.

This is Penelope's second nomination in recent years and she might win this time. The Best Supporting Actress category is absolutely the most difficult to pick, as all five women gave emotionally satisfying, memorable performances. The Academy likes Woody Allen (possibly less-so than before the Soon-Yi debacle) and could reward him through this nomination.

Regardless, "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" is enjoyable and Penelope Cruz does a good job in her role. Her fate on Oscar night? Well, at this point, it's less than twelve hours away, so we shall wait and see!

Oscar Watch 12.0

2009-02-21T08:29:00.000-05:00

As they say in sports, it's almost time for the "talking to stop and the game to begin!" The Oscars are here in a little more than a day. I am proud of my "movies seen" record. It always occurs to me that I may see more nominated films than those who actually cast a vote, since seeing the movie is not actually required before the voting. The injustice! Oh well...

When you sit down to watch a Clint Eastwood film, you can guarantee it won't be a dull experience. His string of recent directorial marvels includes "Mystic River" and "Gran Torino." (That latter film is tough, raw, edgy, and highly emotional. Although not nominated, it is something to see and discuss.) He owns two Academy Awards for directing "Unforgiven" and "Million Dollar Baby." While I may personally not like those films, I won't disagree that they are powerful pieces of work.

In his film "Changeling" he creates another dark, gritty story and Angelina Jolie anchors it with one of her strongest performances ever. She is such a big movie star, sometimes I think her awesome acting chops get overlooked - and then she does work like this to remind everyone. (Should I recuse myself from review? Because my admiration for her is hard to put into words. I think she's talented beyond belief and her strange quirkiness only adds to her charm. I love her big, sprawling, ecclectic family and find her beauty mesmerizing. She is considered a bit of a hero, if you will. I'll attempt to regain some neutrality...)

Her work is the film's sole big-category nomination as Best Actress. She plays Christine Collins, a single mother in the 1920's whose son, Walter, disappears one evening from their California home. The perpetually corrupt LAPD brings her a boy and claims victory in the reunion - but this boy is not Walter. And when Christine tells them so, they go to devious and terrible lengths in their treatment of her to defend their (dis)honorable reputation.

This is a crime drama wrapped in an emotional saga of pain and justice. The look of the picture is unquestionably remarkable, the story is strong and all the supporting players near-perfect. But Angelina Jolie is what you will remember after the credits roll. Her love and determination tears at you through the screen. This film is based on true events and you have to think, were the real Christine Collins alive, she would approve of Ms. Jolie's delicate, nuanced portrayal of her courageous fight.

As per usual, Clint Eastwood has fashioned an emotionally difficult picture through which to sit. But, also true to form, it pays off in spades. "Changeling" is worth a rental. Angelina Jolie could very will win an Oscar for this role. I don't know if that will happen this year, but her nomination is certainly well-earned.

Oscar Watch 11.0

2009-02-17T18:07:00.000-05:00

A round-up of two different acting noms: Melissa Leo, Best Actress hopeful for "Frozen River" and Robert Downey Jr., Best Supporting Actor contender for "Tropic Thunder."

These two couldn't diverge more if you scripted it. (Neither is to blame that I chose to lump them together in my meager little blog post!) Melissa Leo has that real quality about her - which means she actually looks like a real person in this movie, not like a Hollywood glamazon dirtied up to play poor. Robert Downey Jr. puts on black face and is hilarious doing so.

"Frozen River" is a tense little thriller. It engages you right into its cold, odd little world. Melissa Leo is Ray, a dollar-store cashier who just wants a new double-wide for her two sons and herself after her husband takes the last of their money and traipses off to Atlantic City to gamble it away. She unwittingly gets mixed up in smuggling illegal aliens across the American-Canadian border with a girl native to the adjoining Mohawk Reservation.

It's not a typical picture, but it more than holds your interest throughout. Melissa Leo is actually understated in many ways - which makes it a bit of a surprise the Academy noticed her role in a small film released before the late-December rush. But it's refreshing, and though I don't know if she will beat some of the power players she's up against, she could. It is certainly a mesmerizing performance.

Conversely, Robert Downey Jr. plays an Australian method actor in black face in the witty "Tropic Thunder." The Academy's well-known discrimination against comic performers in actual funny roles is literally only the second biggest hurdle he must face, as he is up against Heath Ledger.

As a fan of Robert Downey Jr., both before and after his difficulties with cocaine and the legal system, I am happy to see this nomination for this role. He's ironic and hysterical. This movie isn't perfect - there are some real uneven moments - but it's pretty darn funny. Robert Downey Jr.'s take on this character makes the film for me, and in any other year, I might even say he had a real chance. Just not this year.

Both of these actors are real long shots to win the gold man Sunday evening. It's nice to be included in the group, though, and you just don't know: strange and wonderful things sometimes happen on Oscar night.

Oscar Watch 10.5

2009-02-16T09:41:00.000-05:00

A few nights ago, I pondered deeply: How many times in the past ten years have I been disappointed with the Oscar wins? I tell myself it's about half the time, but I don't know if that is accurate. So, let's see:

1998: "Shakespeare In Love" over "Saving Private Ryan." Ugh. While I may like "Shakespeare In Love" better, it's because war movies aren't my speed. But is it better? Um, nope. This year was a disappointment for sure, all the way around.

1999: "American Beauty" takes it all. I won't disagree with that choice per se, but the movies were all so strong it's hard to pick the "Best." See the nominees: "The Green Mile", "The Sixth Sense", "The Cider House Rules" and "The Insider." It's hard! But, the real snub came when Russell Crowe did not win Best Actor. See: Next year...

2000 : "Gladiator" beats out "Traffic" even though Steven Soderbergh wins Best Director and Ridley Scott does not. That is always the sure-fire way to tell no one can make up their minds. I did not agree at the time, and still have trouble with this...but not nearly the problem I have with Russell Crowe winning Best Actor this year. I love, love, love Russell Crowe, but his win should have come last year for "The Insider" and not here. His performance in "The Insider" ranks, to me, as one of the very best ever. An example of the right actor winning for the wrong role.

2001: "A Beautiful Mind" wins and "Moulin Rouge" does not. Enough said. I can appreciate the reasons behind it, but I don't agree. The Academy has a hard time rewarding new filmmaking styles. (Witness "Pulp Fiction" losing to "Forrest Gump." I rest my case.) So, Baz Luhrman's frenetic, hyper-realized musical certainly does not look like the traditional Best Picture, no matter the visual brilliance of it. I won't say it's a total wash, though.

2002: "Chicago" beats both "The Pianist" and "Gangs of New York" and no once since the ceremony ended will let anyone forget it. The outrage - from some of the same people who voted for crying out loud! This is just wrong on many, many levels - even though I adore "Chicago" on stage and screen, love the music and wish I could play Velma Kelly sometime. But seriously, people...just, seriously. At least there is a silver lining - Adrien Brody's surprise win for Best Actor in "The Pianist" ranks as one of my best Oscar moments ever! They got that right for sure.

2003: "The Lord of the Rings - Return of the King" is awarded top prize, since Peter Jackson had to be rewarded for his groundbreaking trilogy. I would personally have picked "Mystic River" but I appreciate the choice. In terms of filmmaking on a whole, Peter Jackson did create a new mold.

2004: The "Million Dollar Baby" year. Oh, boy. It's hard to even talk about it. Clint Eastwood is a major Hollywood player and last year, for "Mystic River", I would have stood up and cheered for his win. But this? I can't get in line...too bad because "The Aviator" is tremendous and one of Martin Scorsese's best.

2005: The whole "Crash" debacle. I think I"ve already discussed this. Suffice it to say that "Crash" manipulated its audience and likewise, manipulated itself into the top Oscar spot. It's not a terrible movie and I don't hate it. But it's not the best of that year.

2006: Finally! "The Departed" wins Martin Scorsese's first Best Director prize. (That itself is scandalous.) This is by far the right decision. Yea! A lot of cheers for this one!

2007: "No Country For Old Men" and the Cohen brothers win. I love the Cohens. I don't agree with this choice over the more deserving "There Will Be Blood." But, Daniel Day Lewis did win as Best Actor, so I guess there is some atonement in that.

So, all in all, I only count four years I could say were personally satisfying and one that was truly awesome. So, forty percent of the time I'm happy. Huh.

Doesn't matter! The Oscars are less than a week away! I wonder how it will turn out this year? I can't wait to find out. I hope you can't either!

Oscar Watch 10.0

2009-02-15T12:17:00.000-05:00

A week from today, the Oscar race will be over and the statuettes awarded. I'm almost prepared to start preliminary predictions. Still, there are a few performances of which I haven't yet written. One in particular will transcend the movie and nomination and analyze all that the Oscars really mean to me: Heath Ledger in "The Dark Knight."

It's been a year since Heath Ledger's tragic death. I have yet to totally believe it's real. I know I had no personal relationship with the actor, but his work onscreen feels so meaningful, so heartfelt. Like so many others, he impacted my life with his talent and will forever be missed. Perhaps that is why it's difficult to talk about him and his likely sure-lock to win.

"The Dark Knight" certainly lays claim to being the year's most popular movie. I recently rewatched it and, honestly, it's a fine piece of filmmaking. But it is Heath Ledger's Joker who makes it sizzle. Christopher Nolan fashioned a fine new Batman in "Batman Begins" and you will never hear an argument from me when Christian Bale is cast as the lead. (Though, given recent events, you may hear an argument from him...)

But let's be honest: there was no Oscar buzz for "Batman Begins" and rightfully so. I think "The Dark Knight" draws its strength from Heath Ledger in such a powerful way, he infuses himself into every ounce of that movie, whether or not he is actually onscreen.

For those reasons, I believe his nomination is deserved and the right place in which to honor this picture. I can feel the criticism bubble around me, as I know many feel passionately that this movie should be nominated in the prestigious categories, too. But, honestly, if not for Heath Ledger, this is a great summer popcorn flick that rakes in a bunch of cash. And it's well-done. But it is not the art film it is in its current form. Heath Ledger rises above and beyond what anyone could have expected from him, and in turn raises the bar for this picture. Plain and simple, Heath Ledger makes "The Dark Knight."

I'm sure he will win the Oscar next week. It saddens me because he should be here to accept and bask in that moment, although from what I've read about him, he would likely be quite uncomfortable in that sort of spotlight. In actuality, this whole thing highlights a major flaw in the Academy Awards. (Not the only one, mind you - I have a whole post planned for my biggest Oscar pet peeves and why, though I love the Oscars, about half the time I highly disagree with the Academy's selections.)

Heath Ledger should have died an Oscar winner, for his gut-wrenching turn in "Brokeback Mountain." Now, I love Philip Seymour Hoffman and "Capote" showcased his brilliance, but he should not have beaten Heath Ledger for Best Actor. The "Brokeback Mountain" year still has me incredibly miffed. If you ever want a spirited discussion wherein I turn red with disgust, ask me sometime about "Crash" winning Best Picture that year. Total travesty...

Regardless, I know the ways of the Academy. Sometimes, youngsters don't win for the most-deserving nomination because there is someone else that year who, for a myriad of reasons, will win instead. It's political, plain and simple. It drives me nuts because I am a purist in most every area and especially in this one. If you turn in the best performance in a year, you should win. I don't think it should matter whether your competitors previously lost and now need the "make-up" win. I don't care if the Academy feels you must "pay your dues" or "have time" to win later. (A rule that the Academy only follows in certain cases and other times throws right out the window when someone, you know, deserves to win!)

I don't know what the Academy as a whole thought when they cast their ballots that year - or any year. But, Heath Ledger had that buzz about him - he was great, he was destined for big things, and he'd probably win an Oscar or two or three in his time. "Brokeback Mountain" apparently was not his time.

And then, his time ended. Yes, it stings when people die prematurely and no, no one could really predict that coming. But it just shows how fragile it all is. Anyone can go at any time. Thus, in my opinion, you should be rewarded when what you've done deserves the prize. (And believe me, I have thought that he lost that Oscar fair and square because the voters belived Hoffman's work better. But, frankly, I don't buy it.) You should not have to wait because no one, not even famous, talented movie stars, is guaranteed time on this Earth to fulfill a destiny.

So, unless something completely nuts happens, Heath Ledger will be an Oscar winner next week. And he deserves it. Is he the best this year? Well, it is debatable - but hardly worth the time because I don't see a scenario wherein he does not win. And I'm not angry about that, and would not be even if he were alive and well.

It is a bummer, though, that he is not alive and well. His last performance will eerily live on as his legacy. Real life is not fair, you know. And apparently, neither is life onscreen.

Love, Love, Love...

2009-02-14T10:37:00.000-05:00

Isn't it weird that Valentine's Day this year comes on the heels of Friday the 13th? Or is it just appropriate? I mean, I love Valentine's Day, mostly because it is all pink and hearts and smiles and hugs. But let's be real about it: it's a Hallmark holiday, made up for consumerism. Today, beleagured men line up to buy overpriced flowers and jewelry to show how much they "love" their partners.

I've never really been too much about the material gifts, though in my younger days I can admit I fell victim to the enormous pressure to make this day count. I've received some pretty nice things over the years from various suitors, some expensive and some just thoughtful. Not all of them meant true love. In some cases, no real emotions were involved whatsoever. So be it. I'm sure it was fun while it lasted!

Some of my best V-Day memories involve my girlfriends at our favorite bar, dancing the night away with the rest of the lonely singles. And that's okay too. Love, for me, has always included both the romantic and the platonic and each is most important in its own way.

This year, we've decided against the traditional celebration. In meager college years, this day equalled an excuse for a fancy dinner out. Sometimes, this day has been roses and lobster dinners at home. Last year, it was an extravagant trip to Las Vegas, with Cirque du Soleil and gourmet eats. (It has also been long lines in restaurants where the very next day, you can eat the same food without waiting a minute. Long gone is the insanity of that!)

Now, we are going with pizza and an evening of "The Princess Bride" - my all-time absolute favorite film ever, inspiration for a fairy tale life of love if ever one existed. We will curl up with the dogs and then eat chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream and just be together. Not much different from other nights, really, because as you get older, that is what love...is.

Happy Valentine's Day to one and all. No matter the celebration you choose, may this day of love be filled with just that in all its treasured forms.

Oscar Watch 9.0

2009-02-13T09:07:00.000-05:00

There are some films which just reek of strong acting and while you watch, you realize the amazement to see such talent together onscreen. "Doubt" certainly falls into this category.

Notice the nominations alone: Meryl Streep, who seems to garner a nod for showing her face. And this is not to say it's undeserved, as she's simply marvelous and grows more so with age. Amy Adams, who is one of my absolute favorite stars ever since "Junebug" so fascinated and enthralled me. (If you have not seen it, go do it. Right now!) Philip Seymour Hoffman, a fantastic addition no matter what he does and no matter how disheveled he looks doing it. And Viola Davis, a newcomer who has one tantalizing, suspenseful showdown with Meryl Streep which will stick with you long after the film's end.

This, too, was a stage play, much like "Frost/Nixon." I bet it was a doozy onstage, though it certainly did not star the caliber of actors we have here. The premise is instant intrigue: a priest, Philip Seymour Hoffman, at a Catholic school shows (too much?) interest in a young boy, who also is the first black student admitted to this New York City private school in the 1950's. The nuns, school principal Meryl Streep and teacher Amy Adams, delve into whether something inappropriate happened and what, exactly, they should do if it did. Along the way, there is a mighty confrontation of the young boy's mother, Viola Davis, which only serves to complicate.

As you might imagine, this is a dialogue-heavy, intense drama which pulls you along its path. I can bet it worked better onstage, but the look of the film adds to the foreboding nature of its plot. There is a lot of rain and wind and blustery cold. And in the end, there is no real contrition, if you will.

But it's the journey that matters most. And to witness the talent of these fine actors is something to see. I don't know, given the master class of actors involved in the Oscar races this year, whether any of this film's nominees will walk away a winner. (Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman already have won, of course.) I do think they are worthy addtions to the group, and I think the film shows them off nicely.

"Doubt" will get you thinking and could start some interesting conversations. That, too, is a testament to a fine film.

Oscar Watch 8.0

2009-02-12T08:18:00.000-05:00

Oscar night draws gleefully nigh. (Don't you just love the word "nigh" in modern times - or is it just me?) I am excited and ready. There are few performances I must catch before the big night and luckily, they will bow on DVD prior to Sunday, February 22nd. (Melissa Leo in "Frozen River" and Angelina Jolie in "Changeling" for starters.)

Sadly, I must do without a few films as well. "Revolutionary Road" and its nominated supporting actor Michael Shannon never fit my schedule and, most disappointing of all, I will miss Anne Hathaway's leading performance in "Rachel Getting Married." I so wanted to see that latter film, but it just slipped away from the theaters too quickly.

But I won't dwell on the negative! Next up for review is a small, impressive film you could rent on DVD right now, today - "The Visitor." Its star, Richard Jenkins, is nominated for Best Actor. He himself describes his chances to win as, "Please. I have no chance." But, regardless of that, this movie is well worth the watch, especially since this type of film often does not get the audience it deserves. (And on a side note, any film which can motivate me to think about possibly going back to the practice of law is quite an achievement! That in itself should win some kind of award!)

This movie touches on many social, relevant issues - our country's over-zealous immigration laws, right versus wrong, love and loss. Richard Jenkins is the type of actor who plays in numerous films, but is kind of nameless - like, you'll recognize him as "that guy who was the dad in 'Step-Brothers'" or something like that. He really marvels here in a touching, warm-hearted portrayal of a middle-aged widower who accidentally discovers he can still feel passion for people and life.

Sometimes, I truly prefer these small movies. And sometimes, I will admit, I long for the ditzy Hollywood ending because the realism hurts my heart too much. This is not a "feel-good" film. It's depressing, though humor slides in at many turns. It is, however, worth your time. I hope Richard Jenkins can transform this into some more starring turns. He is very, very good.

"The Visitor" likely won't win anything on Oscar night. But the attention it's garnered with its nominations surely won it a few more viewers. And that is the realy beauty of the Academy Awards.

Did You Ever Notice?

2009-02-10T17:42:00.000-05:00

Randomly, and with no particular point to be made, things I've noticed and/or learned in this new year:

**Mitch Berger, the Steelers' punter, deserves an Academy Award for this on-field theatrics - maybe "Best Flop" for his performance in the AFC Championship game. (Not that you'll hear any complaints from Steeler Nation, mind you. I"m just saying...)

**People can be mighty righteous. See Exhibit A: Michael Phelps and a bong hit. Come on, now - he's a twenty-something-year-old kid at a college party who smoked some pot. Half the folks ready to lynch him as a "bad example" probably smoked their fair share in college, and the other half wishes they had. Some of them might even roll a fat one now and again, on weekends away from the family when they re-live the freedom of irresponsibility. (I, for one, am suspect of anyone who did not get high in college.) Michael Phelps is a super-talented millionaire who took a bong hit. It's not like he toked up pool side in Beijing, for crying out loud. I'm ready to boycott Kellogg's for their dropping him as a sponsor. Don't we collectively as a country have bigger things on our plate than a little bit of weed? Seriously...

**We're supposedly in a recession, but I still can't get out of Target without waiting in line while shoppers in front of me buy necessities like new 300-thread-count sheets, bottled water, and dog toys. I'm not criticizing, just noticing. (I myself can't seem to check-out without spending at least a hundred bucks, so no stones thrown by me.)

**There are those walking among us who buy into infomercials. In fact, one such person sleeps next to me at night. Say it isn't so! But I recently read an online article about the Snuggie - you know, blanket with arm-holes - and its influence on pop culture. (My favorite part of the advertisement is when the family all dons their respective Snuggies to keep warm at a sporting event - they look like wizards ala Harry Potter and company at a Quiddich match! Priceless.) I guess even when times are bad, folks can scrounge $19.99 for a ShamWow. Those genius marketers know what they are doing! Good to know.

So, wisdom comes in odd packages. Like the ShamWow spokesman says in his other masterpiece campaign for the SlapChop, "Linguine, Fettuccini, Martini, Bikini!" (That has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I just find it hysterical and will quote it whenever I get the chance, no matter the situation.)

Words to live by, my friends. Keep your eyes open in this wacky world - there is no telling what you'll see!

Oscar Watch 7.0

2009-02-08T19:26:00.000-05:00

Next up is the last installment in Best Picture nominees: "Frost/Nixon." In addition, perennial Hollywood favorite and all-around nice guy Ron Howard scored a Best Director nomination and Frank Langella a Best Actor nod.

This docudrama tells the story of British talk-show host David Frost's infamous televised interviews with newly-resigned President Richard Nixon. The story is told as if a documentary crew followed up with the folks involved in bringing the interviews to life. This method adds some intrigue to the already fascinating journey to make these interviews happen.

With all the circus-like coverage of Tricky Dick's White House departure, no one had gotten the former Commander in Chief to confess his actual wrongdoing or apologize to a cynical nation and David Frost sees a gold mine in being the first to get it done. Mr. Frost is played with a twinkling eye and unerlying wit by Michael Sheen. He truly embodies a radiant energy and turns in a layered performance. The bond he forms with Richard Nixon, purely by accident and to his surprise, is brought to life by strong acting on his part.

Frank Langella does a great job as Richard M. Nixon, showing a symapthetic side to the much maligned historical figure. He won the Tony Award for this perfomance on Broadway, in the stage play upon which the film is based. Having been a baby when this played out in real life, I don't remember the actual events. (President Nixon resigned the day I was born. Literally.)

I do know that this story has been fictionalized and much dramatic license taken. But I do not care. It is suspenseful in a much different way from an action film and allows you to see layers of a character usually thought of in one-dimensional tones. In the end, Richard Nixon was a lonely and confused old man who had poor social skills. Does that excuse his inexcusable actions? Of course not. Does it make him human? Yes.

Is this movie worthy of all the praise heaped upon it? I'd say it is. It is not for everyone. But if you like history made into movies, this is a good one. I doubt it will take home any big prizes on Oscar night, but it's well-acted and well-directed and touches upon a story not everyone remembers.

And it is a story worth telling.

Oscar Watch 6.0

2009-02-07T09:01:00.000-05:00

Next, a bit of a departure. Besides the great big important categories at the Oscars - picture, actor, actress, director, and the like - there are smaller races just as exciting. One such contest is Best Animated Feature. Some might argue quite effectively that great films get relegated to this subset simply because they do not star human actors. This could be the case with "Wall-E."

This is a truly unique animated film. No talking animals, no silly dance sequences, no ironic sarcasm, no green ogres. And while there are cute creatures with whom to fall in love, the entire movie does not at all feel like an extended marketing campaign.

"Wall-E" spins a fascinating yarn about a robot sometime in the future designed to pick up trash on an unliveable Earth. In this imagined time, humans have over-consumed so that our dear planet is overrun with debris. People live on a cruise-like spaceship while robots try to find signs of ecological life. The beginning of the film is almost devoid of communication, as Wall-E is entirely isolated, with only a cockroach for a friend. His joy is saving "treasures" from the piles of trash and transporting them to his lair. It is remarkable to see what he has created from the stuff left behind.

One of his obsessions is replaying a VCR copy of "Hello Dolly!" as he sings and dances to the melodies of a bygone era. He twirls and recreates routines with a deep joy familiar to anyone who has been swept away in music. It is touching, emotional, and brilliant. In my perception, this one idea elevates the film to a level I have not experienced in animated storytelling.

One day, a new type of robot arrives: EVE. The two hit it off immediately. Wall-E shows EVE his cache of loot and they fall in love. Eventually, they find themselves on the human's starship and realize they each hold an important key to Earth's success.

This film looks amazing, as do all Pixar productions. There is a strong and wise message attached. But the story and the way it is told is simply genius. I enjoyed every bit of this smart, insightful, deep little gem. For a movie aimed at kids, it is more intelligent than most so-called grown-up fare.

When I first watched this film, it struck me as "simple." I don't mean that in a derogatory way. It is a bit old-fashioned in its approach to story and message, and that is refreshing. I am sure kids found a great deal to fall in love with. Adults could benefit in an even greater way.

This one is on DVD now, so get out there and find yourselves a copy! This is a must-see for any generation. And the message could not be more timely: We need to pay attention to our planet and to each other.

Oscar Watch 5.0

2009-02-05T16:02:00.000-05:00

One of the biggest surprises of my Oscar season has been the thoughtful, deep, and insightful film, "The Reader." It is nominated for Best Picture, and Stephen Daldry is nominated as Best Director and Kate Winslet as Best Actress.

Stephen Daldry always brings interesting stories to the screen (for example, "Billy Elliott" and "The Hours") and often scores himself an Oscar nod - though he has never won. In "The Reader" he really outdoes himself and much of it hinges on Kate Winslet's remarkable talent.

This is Kate's sixth nomination and she's only thirty-three years old. (Geez. I'm older than her. What have I done? Kind of makes me feel small and insignificant...) She is often hailed as the best female actor of her generation and even before this film, I would not argue. However, after this movie, it seems almost written in stone as truth.

"The Reader" tells such a complex and moving story, I hate to ruin it. I will say this: the basic plot tells of a thirty-something German woman, Kate Winslet, in post World War II Germany. By chance, she meets a fifteen year old boy and they begin an affair which ends suddenly and without warning. What happens from there deserves to play out onscreen, but it involves Nazi war crimes, dark secrets, books, and growing up. I can't do justice to the storyline and won't try. This is one film where the less you know before going in, the better.

Kate Winslet's paramour is played by a breathtaking young man, David Kross. He is absolutely wonderful and I can't wait to see more of him. He not only has chemistry with Kate Winslet, he transforms from kid to adult in such a believable, human way. To top it off, his acting is on par with Ms. Winslet's, and that is no small feat. (And as a bonus? He is played as an adult in the film by Ralph Fiennes, whom I savor in any performance.)

This picture is brilliant and suspenseful, and certainly not in the traditional sense. Something like this could easily get lost in the shuffle and I've heard mumblings that its inclusion as possible Best Picture is what knocked out "The Dark Knight."

I understand the anger at that exclusion. However, after seeing "The Reader" I can't say it should have been slighted either. The twists and turns in the story, the seemless switches in tone, the look of Germany through the decades, and, most of all, the acting are all first-rate. It is hard to argue against this film as a strong contender.

But in the end, I come back to Kate Winslet. I have not yet seen all her competitors, but I can't believe she will be bested. Her character here is not entirely likable or even good - which makes her performance all the more amazing. She should probably write that speech, if she has not already done so.

If you can find this one, do it. I gurantee you won't soon forget it.

Oscar Watch 4.0

2009-02-04T15:33:00.000-05:00

I'm still obsessed with them "Stillers" and their remarkable, mind-blowing victory, but bear with me as I attempt to focus again on the next exciting chapter in my life: the Oscars.

So, "Slumdog Millionaire" is on quite a run. It's certainly become quite the hip and trendy film. And all the positive attention is deserved. For its two frenetically paced hours, you are transported to India, with all its grandeur and flaws. You climb inside a world which feels authentic, yet alien to what we know day to day. Danny Boyle has directed several projects over the years, but will forever be linked in my mind with "Trainspotting" and that dead baby on the ceiling. (It still gives me chills...) Whichever way you see it, this film is quite different and, honestly, superior.

The backdrop of the story finds Jamal in the hot seat on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire." As the questions come one after the other, he answers them correctly to the surprise of host and audience. Suspicious of the slumdog's intelligence, he's automatically taken in as a cheat. To explain his knowledge, the film flashbacks through his life and tells us his story. We meet the main players - Jamal and his big brother Salim - when they are kids. Their pasttimes include romps across garbage-strewn landscapes as they navigate a tough, poor life, until one day something terrible happens which leaves them to truly fend for themselves. On their new, scary journey they meet the other protagonist, Latika, and from there on, their individual stories weave through and around each other for the rest of their lives.

By the time Jamal gets to the game show, he has already spun quite a tale. The combination of tension in his life and on the show never feels forced. The film keeps you engaged on both levels. The fact that you don't recognize the faces in the film adds to your being wrapped up in the action from start to finish. Everything about the atmosphere - the dingy feel of the city, the engaging soundtrack, and the true chemistry between the two romantic leads, Jamal and Latika - is spot on. These two young actors - Dev Patel and Freida Pinto - are on the rise and rightfully so. All in all, this film works at every turn.

That said, I enjoyed Slumdog's journey. I'm not sure I'd say it's the best trip I've taken at the cineplex this year, but I admire its tenacity and the places it goes.

Super Bowl Superstition Six Pack

2009-02-02T12:22:00.001-05:00

Woh. That's all I can say about the wild, crazy Super Bowl spectacular last night. The Steelers aren't going to win any style points and if you hated them before that game, you probably really hate them now. (Sorry, Steelers West. Destiny still lives in the Steel City, despite Kurt Warner's claims otherwise. Don't bet against Steelers D. Ever.)

But, pretty points aside, the Steelers won their sixth Lombardi trophy and captured the hearts of Steeler Nation and did it the old Pittsburgh way: trying to give you a simultaneous heart attack, stroke, and meltdown before pulling it out in the last, desperate minutes. As I get older, a portable defibrilator might be a wise investment.

Before the game, my mom led me to an interesting website wherein Steeler fans posted their wacky gameday superstitions. Anyone who knows even a tidbit about me knows I'm super-superstitious and often so nervous, it's hard to actually watch the game. So, reading about other kooks out there with even wierder problems than my own warmed my soul and made me feel closer to my fellow Steeler fanatics.

About halfway through the fourth quarter in last night's fiasco, I retreated to a familiar area: the hallway, where I pace, hope, jump up and down, breathe heavily in series of fives, and repeat mantras in a whisper (things like, "Please, D, please, oh please, you're the best in the league, please, oh please!" You know, things like that.)

We changed our gameday-watching setup mid-season. So, my gameday-watching freak-out routine had to change too. I think my current habits began in the Dallas game and gained strength from there. It culminated during the last few minutes of the second regular season Baltimore game, as I watched Big Ben's game-winning drive through that crack in the door. In my mind, my position there is key to last-minute, game-winning drives to victory. (After last night, don't even attempt to tell me that where I stand and what I do does not matter to the on-field action. I simply point to the highlight reel as evidence and rest my case.)

My mind raced through so many emotions, it would be impossible to pin any one down. But, somewhere, I held out hope that Big Ben and Company could do it. I flashed back to those other games, those other gameclocks ticking dangerously close to quadruple zeros and I thought, "We can do this. One more time, for history, for the Rooneys, for all of us pacing in black and gold hallways around the world. We just can't lose. We just can't."

I won't claim I knew the outcome would be favorable - or, clearly, I might have left the hallway and actually entered the room with the screen. But I felt something pull me closer and closer to that doorway crack and I pushed my eyes into that space and watched Santonio Holmes pull down that perfect pass, through three defenders, in the teeniest space at the edge of the endzone and I totally lost it. It wasn't compelely over at that moment, but I knew in my gut. I felt it.

The Steelers will break your heart sometimes. Last night was not one of those times. Congrats, Ben and Troy and Willie and James and Jeff and Santonio and Mike T. and Hines and Heath and all the rest of the heroes big and small. Congrats to the Steeler Nation and most of all, the Rooney family.

Congrats to me, too, for physically making it through not only that game, but the entire stressful season. Now, only one thought comes to mind: I can't wait for next year! Here we go Steelers - Here we go!!

Oscar Watch 3.0

2009-01-31T10:13:00.000-05:00

Next up on the Oscar list is a movie I saw last weekend and needed some time to digest: "The Wrestler." Its star, Mickey Rourke, is the front-runner to win the Best Actor prize.

First, a confession. Although I am an avowed child of the 80's and adore most all cheesy pop culture of that era, I have never watched wrestling. I don't recall much interest in a fake event which starred sweaty, bulky men in spandex who throw chairs at one another. My one wrestling-inspired memory is of a late-night college drinking game which involved topics where everyone took a turn and the person who could not continue the thread had to drink. When one person named "Famous 80's Wrestlers" as the theme, I did a lot of drinking, as I could only name Hulk Hogan - and that did not go far. So, my personal experience with WWF (as it was called back then) is pretty much nil. (Though my experience with the WWF of today - the World Wildlife Foundation - is well-documented. Everyone should support it!)

But, this is one good film about the underbelly of professional wrestling. Darren Aronofsky has a skewed vision of the world, often choosing to look at the dirtiest, seediest avenues where the most troubled souls reside. His "Requiem for a Dream" is one of the toughest movies to watch, and no doubt it will leave you with the oddest taste in your mouth. If ever there was a blueprint for not doing drugs, that is it. However, his talent for grainy, realistic looks at a side of society most people want to turn from is brave and different.

Much has been made of Mickey Rouke's nominated turn as Randy "The Ram" Robinson in the title role. His parallel personal struggle as a former 80's star on the rise leads to many comparisons between him, the real person, and this fictional character. Both are in many ways broken, beaten, and mostly forgotten. His casting is pitch perfect and draws you in on that other level, too, something for which Darren Aronofsky must be praised. He fought hard to make that happen and it paid off in spades.

The scenes in the ring, with staple guns to naked skin and old men pulling shards of glass from wrinkled bellies, made me want to watch through fingers. But the real pain comes after The Ram suffers some revelatory setbacks and attempts to put his disheveled life in order. It is the heart-wrenching conversations with his estranged daughter which ring most true. His flaws are deeply rooted, as are those of most people, and just because one wants to change doesn't mean one has the ability to actually do it. Unlike the shiny glamour of a lot of films, there is no gloss here, no feel-good happy ending. It is in this realism that I believe the film is strongest and much of it exudes from Mickey Rouke.

Marisa Tomei is nominated as Cassidy, the stripper who tries to be The Ram's friend. Despite the best of intentions, their relationship is doomed by their own dysfunctions. Both these actors believably inhabit this pitiful world and they have a good chemistry onscreen. (They do, however, both look like they are in need of a long, hot shower. My hats off to the makeup and costume designers for that!)

"The Wrestler" delves into both physical and emotional gore in a way most unusual, yet compelling. This aging man is stuck in a decade past, still banging his long, bleached blonde locks to hair metal and wrestling other middle-aged former stars in American Legions and the like. The audience for these bouts? It is filled with similar poor folks likely just as afraid of the way the world changes around them. They all try to cling onto what they know as familiar, even the pain and misery, as so many do in times of upheaval.

"The Wrestler" is not for you if you only like your films sprinkled with that Hollywood pixie dust, if you only like glamorized versions of hookers ala "Pretty Woman." But, if you like strong, in-your-face acting and films that make you think, then check this one out for sure.

**As a side note, there is a documentary (maybe my absolute favorite genre ever) called "Beyond the Mat" about steroids, professional wrestling, and the toll taken on the stars of that time. I myself have not seen it yet. After this movie, I definitely will.

Oscar Watch 2.0

2009-01-30T21:55:00.000-05:00

Onto the next installment in my Oscar-y blog posts: the picture with the most nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actress, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button."

Once in a while, a movie is more than just a movie - it transcends into such an emotional event, it's hard to separate my personal feelings from the film's actual quality In my experience, this is not common. It happened in "Titanic" (all five times I watched it on the big screen.) It happened in "Moulin Rouge" and "Pulp Fiction."

And in some ways, it happened in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." For the sake of this blog post, I will attempt to keep my personal feelings (i.e. this is my "favorite" picture) separate from my attempt to critique its strengths. (But, it really was "my favorite!" And my passions are hard to keep at bay...)

This film is directed by David Fincher, someone I've long admired for his unique vision and storytelling ability, though the stories he's told lean to the macabre. He helmed "Se7en," "The Game" and "Fight Club." He also directed the underappreciated "Zodiac." So, once I heard he was behind this fable, my intrigue rose.

This film is quite different from those others, but no less well-done. The look of the picture is superb, with some of the most interesting camera work and special effects in some time. Most impressive is that none of this is done to draw attention to the sublime work behind it. It is simply a part of the film and blends so easily into the entire story, it might be only afterward that you think back and wonder, "How did they pull that off?" Aside from this grand style of filmmaking, the subtle themes are the treasures - especially one recurring tale of lightning strikes. It is in the tiniest touches I found the biggest payoffs.

The plot is fairly simple: a baby is born an old man and ages backwards. As a child, he looks elderly, and he dies an infant. It is his life along the way, of course, in which we find the story. He has many adventures and loves, particularly his kindred spirit, Daisy, whom he meets as a young boy/old man and treasures forever. The premise is not only new, it is smartly portrayed.

Cate Blanchett, one of the most reliable and steadfast in her craft, plays Daisy. She is a real character, with flaws and mistakes. Brad Pitt is nominated in the lead role and while not many will argue against his handsomeness, I've had several disagreements over his acting chops. He, too, is often underappreciated and overlooked. This film certainly brings out the truth of his talent, aided by the special effects which allow him to age in reverse. It is a rich and layered job, with nuance and humor and real emotion.

Perhaps the biggest revelation is Taraji P. Henson, who plays Benjamin's adoptive mother and who earned a nod as Best Supporting Actress. Her warmth and unconditional love for this strange little soul on her doorstep breathes through the life of the picture, and she has some of the best lines. She is touching and lovely, and it's always a treat to see new faces onscreen.

All in all, this is quite the event picture. I, for one, felt breathless and teary-eyed at its conclusion and knew I'd witnessed something innovative. For sheer finesse behind the lense, this one will be hard to beat. The fact that it also packs a strong emotional punch makes it a strong contender.

I don't know whether this movie will end up "The Best Picture of the Year." But it is worthy to land on the short list. It's well-written, well-acted, and looks great. Its goal is to say this: any life is filled with drama and laughter and heartache and loss and triumph. The odd way in which Benjamin lives his adds only another dimension - it does not change the fundamental idea of what it is to fumble along the paths we choose. Like any good fable, it teaches a lesson in an easy way. The small moments lead me to love the film. I recommend it for all of the reasons listed.

But most of all is this: Who doesn't like a good fairy tale once in a while?

Oscar Watch 1.0

2009-01-27T08:59:00.000-05:00

This is quite a busy time: besides the constant Super Bowl frenzy, I am frantically movie-watching to prep for Oscar night. In fact, I've had a few clamors for more information on my personal cinematic habits and so, I officially put it out there in the form of a proposed series of blogs. And off we go!

I'll start with "Milk." Best picture nominee, this Gus Van Sant gem is a biopic of slain gay-rights activist and politico Harvey Milk. Any discussion of this film must start with Sean Penn's nominated performance, a study in losing oneself in a character. Sean Penn is no stranger to gut-wrenching, moving roles - and he already has one coveted gold man on his mantle for "Mystic River."

His Harvey Milk is a strong, sympathetic man who really, at baseline, wants to make a mark on this world before he goes. This theme is what struck me the most, since it is pervasive in any one of our lives. Prior to seeing the movie, I heard a critic marvel at the quiet moments in Sean Penn's performance and point to that as the crux of the acting.

He got that right. There is a scene near the end with Sean Penn and Victor Garbor, who plays mayor George Moscone, the other casualty of Dan White's rampage. Unbeknownst to either of them, their respective fates are sealed. After their conversation, Harvey makes a move out the door. Sean Penn, in that one moment, captures the heart behind Harvey Milk's unbelievable journey. It is that gesture, the look in his eyes that sticks with you afterwards.

The entire movie is masterfully comprised of seamless archival footage blended with the actual film. Shots of Sean Penn and Emile Hirsch in their roles layer over actual 1970's activists in the streets, actual news footage of election night. It creates an experience unlike many others.

Gus Van Sant is not a surprise at the helm of such a rich picture. "Good Will Hunting" remains one of my all-time favorite movies for more reasons than just the emergence of Matt and Ben. "Milk" ranks as a touching, important piece and should be enjoyed as well as admired for both its artistic qualities and its resounding message: peace, equality, acceptance.

"Milk" is a wonderful experience. It can't be ignored that Sean Penn is the star. But, praise for the other players is deserved. Josh Brolin, nominated in his supporting role, embodies the paranoia and desperation of Dan White in all its uncomfortable truth. Emile Hirsch, Diego Luna, and Allison Pill as Harvey's companions - some personal, some professional - are underrated, yet lovely.

And Jared Leto, as Harvey's true love Scott, is a revelation to me. I have admired Jared Leto for some time, as I think he could easily fall into the "pretty boy" stereotype and get rich from "Spider Man" and the like. But he takes chances, especially in this film. He is brilliant, and he could have easily scored himself an Oscar nod had this year's Supporting Actor race not been so crowded. I look forward to more from him and feel his work here is integral to the dramatic arc of this story. Well done.

"Milk" has honestly earned its spot among the Best Picture nominations this year and its actors rose to a fine occasion. It is a must-see, particularly to point out that the more things in this wacky world change, the more they stay the same.

Who Has Time For This? Well...

2009-01-26T12:28:00.000-05:00

So, for me right now, it's all Steelers, all the time. I try very hard to keep it all in perspective and to relax. But then, I'm reminded of the craziness of Super Bowl Week.

As I prepared some bills and organized my files for the week, I listened to NFL Network - more specifically, the 1981 San Diego Chargers' "America's Game: The Missing Rings." Not that I'm super interested in the 1981 Chargers, but it soothes me to hear football speak in the background of my life and I did hear some interesting tidbits about Kellen Winslow. (Kellon Winslow, Sr., of course, not his "soldier" son.)

All of a sudden: Breaking News! The Steelers U.S. Airways charter flight arrived at Tampa International Airport! This is big on NFL Network. I watched live as the team, coaches, staff, managers, owners, et. al. exited the plane and boarded team buses.

Mike Tomlin was the first big-wig off the plane. He looked snazzy in a brown suit - and he did not smile. Duh. Ben Roethlisberger wore a long sleeve under a polo shirt - one of my personal favorite looks, on guys and myself. He's kind of always a bit disheveled - but not as much as Eli. He had a camcorder to capture the memories. Adam Schefter pointed it out several times.

Adam also sounded relieved, as was I, that Hines Ward moved "perfectly." (Of course, he only walked about ten steps on that bum knee, but so far, so good...) Heath Miller took the metal stairs one at a time - which struck me as odd, as he is pretty agile on the field. He looked awkward coming down. I empathize. I imagined he might be wary of taking a tumble, as I always am coming down those rickety plane steps and I'm not even broadcast live on NFL Network! I understand, Heath. Just catch the ball and run fast.

Everyone arrived safe and sound and they looked all business. Adam Schefter pointed out it was 66 degrees in Tampa and only 19 degrees in Pittsburgh, which means the Steelers are in a warmer climate now. Thanks, Adam. He talked a few minutes about how nice it likely felt to be in a warm climate because some players described Pittsburgh as "dreary" the past few days. Nah, not Pittsburgh! I shook my head because I myself, two weeks ago, traveled from cold weather to warm and sunny Florida, too. The Steelers and I aren't that different after all!

This is all pretty crazy, you know. How much pressure it must be if your plane arrival is "BREAKING NEWS!" on NFL Network. Who is sitting around watching this? Get a life people!

Except, I genuinely got excited and pressed "record" on the TiVo. And I re-watched it and will show my husband when he gets home and I guarantee he will be sincerely interested. (Not like some other gems I TiVo and make him watch, like various dog shows on Animal Planet and one memorable episode of "Meerkat Manor." He only lasted roughly thirty seconds, but still...)

Yep, it's only a game and I tell myself it will be fine, no matter what. It's great just to get to the Super Bowl, what an honor - wait, what? Deion Sanders will interview Big Ben this afternoon? Hines Ward on Total Access tonight? Well, sign me up!

Yes, people, it's going to be this kind of week, you know. And I, for one, could not be happier. Keep it coming - no detail too mundane, no stat too meaningless.

Not for me. Not this week. Not ever.

It's A Brand New Day

2009-01-20T16:04:00.001-05:00

Today, on a day of dreams, I relish the abundant riches of this week. The Pittsburgh Steelers are headed to Super Bowl XLIII and Barack Obama is inaugurated the forty-fourth President of the United States of America. Life is good.

Most of the best days in my life, the most proud moments, the memories of which I think most fondly are things that happened around me, not directly to me. I don't complain about this, as I feel quite fortunate to have the happiness I do. Like millions of others today, I feel connected to this glimpse in history and I recognize the importance and grandeur around me.

And in my own little world, I am ready to turn over a new leaf. Because on this day of change, when America looks toward hope, I, too, will set my sights on something new. I don't know yet how I might accomplish this, and I'm not entirely sure what direction my path might take. But I am inspired by this breathless idea that one can turn into the light and come out stronger, braver, better able to focus.

These next two weeks, I will immerse myself in sports shows and Steelers highlights in preparation for the "Bowl that is Super." In the future, I will immerse myself in the hopes of an entire world, and I will be better.

Yes I will.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

2009-01-11T22:16:00.000-05:00

This happened to be quite an eventful day, even though I never even left my house. I am totally exhausted and can't exactly put the right words down to address the enormity of today's events, but I must stress that my world shifted a bit. I will, then, for simplicity's sake, focus on the obvious.

The Steelers won their playoff game, which is the cause of my sheer exhaustion. To watch the game, in my world, is not a sedentary event. It requires both physical and mental energy. One must jump, pace, hide in corners, run in place, breathe heavily, order husbands to "lucky" spots in the room, high five, hug beagles, and pump fists. For roughly four hours. All the while paying close attention to field position, play-calling, the announcers' inept commentary, and referees' attempts at sabotage (of which there were several.)

So, after three games before this one, after three home teams' fall from grace, after a bad feeling in my gut all week long, the Steelers played a near-flawless football game and brought themselves within one game of a Super Bowl berth.

Unbelievable. It caps a tremendous weekend of football and a stressful season of close victories. It marks a hope to be the first franchise with six Lombardi trophies. It brings a fear of playing the Baltimore Ravens for the third time in a season, but in a good way. My head spins from the enormity of it.

Now, as for the rest of my strange and exciting day, I will have to leave that for another time. Because the Steelers' win is really and truly enough for now.

Here we go!

Snowflakes of Joy

2009-01-08T14:04:00.000-05:00

Today, it snowed. And it wasn't like the usual flurries which count for snow down here. Big, fat snowflakes fell from the sky, almost too perfectly, like what you'd expect to see in a "Peanuts" comic. It struck me as absloutely beautiful.

All my life, I've hated snowy winter. I inherited my attitude honestly from my parents, and who could blame them? In western PA, snow starts about October and in April, the dirty, ashy snowpiles on the roadsides begin to melt. Winter means treacherous roads and cancelled plans and long, cold days with no sun in sight.

But today, I realized snow can be lovely and fascinating, even. Of course, it doesn't stick on the ground for any length of time and the roads are clear and tomorrow, the weather is to be sunny and warmer.

So, today's snowfall appealed to me, knowing it would all be gone soon enough. I could appreciate and admire it. And I enjoyed a fresh look on something I've detested for so long.

It does not change my opinion on the stuff, though. There are too many Pennsylvania winters in my past for all that. Overall, snow can go.

Get Your Priorities Straight, Sister!

2009-01-07T18:38:00.000-05:00

Oooh - this is a good time of the year. Yeah, I have the annual post-holiday blues and feel like I gained ten pounds (I really did not) and hate the cold, snowy, winter weather. But, the "Mighty 'Guins" are on a possible icy upswing (Let's Go Pens!), the WVU basketball team will enter some high stakes inner-conference play soon, it's NFL playoff time and to boot, the movie award season is upon us.

Naturally, things are bound to be busy around here. If I'm not careful, work and responsibilities can really get in the way of all this excitement. So, I must devise strategical plans to make sure my priorities stay in order. In the past, I've faced some real challenges in this area, but I always persevere. To commemorate, I thought I would relay a few instances of which I'm most proud.

In my Senior year of high school, the Penguins won the second of their back-to-back Stanley Cups. Awesome. I got to skip school the next day and stayed up all night to watch the television coverage. I was set to graduate about five minutes later, which is, I'm sure, why I got away with this. I like to think it sincerely set the tone for the rest of my adult life. (A shout-out to my parents for that one!)

During law school, when time could get tight, I'd sometimes be forced to skip classes to make sure I fit in all the Oscar nominated movies in time for the big night. When you think about it, this is not much of a sacrifice. I'd also skip class to catch the end of a good Lifetime movie (i.e. "Death of a Cheerleader" or, as I so refer, "the one where Kellie Martin stabs Tori Spelling with the knife") or watch especially good 90210 reruns (i.e. Kelly's cocaine days.) In addition, I blew off my third year Insurance final to make sure I saw "Eight Mile" with Eminem before it left the theatre - totally worth it, since I'll never understand Insurance law anyway and it's not like that final was going to be the difference.

When the Steelers made their fantastic, stupendous Super Bowl run a few years ago, I was lucky enough to work a job where I traveled much of the time, so my presence at the office was hit or miss anyway. The day after Pittsburgh beat Denver to make it to Super Bowl XL, I made a trip to southern West Virginia and then straight home to watch SportsCenter highlights. The day after the Super Bowl victory, I simply did not show up at all and no one even wondered why. (Due to my frenetic Steelers love, I'm sure they put it together. Attorneys are supposed to be logical, analytical thinkers, right?)

My best memory, though, is the release date of the Steelers Super Bowl DVD . As fate would have it, I was on my way to Wheeling, which led me right through Western PA. So, I stopped off at the "Little Washington" Target, bought my DVD, and was home by noon to watch it and re-live the glory. When my office called to see when I might be in, I told them the DVD release was a "holiday" and I'd see them the next day. (I'm pretty sure they thought I was kidding. I assume they figured out I sure wasn't. Back to the logic.)

Of course, I don't have the energy to recount every time I called off work or blew off homework or sat through three movies in one day to make sure I could "fit it all in." That's just part of my daily life. These more exceptional examples make me proud. I'm nothing if not loyal.

So, bring it on. I'm super excited and ready and I can not wait. Because this might be the most wonderful time of the year.

Happy New Year, Six Days In

2009-01-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

Happy 2009! While I suffer from the year's inaugural head cold, which felt the need to arrive, uninvited, on New Year's Day, I have recalled a few of my brighter points from last year.

After watching the movie "Hancock," wherein Will Smith eats these fabulous-looking meatballs, I felt inspired to make homemade meatballs myself. This might not be monumentous, but I am really not much of a cook. By summertime, and that popcorn flick, I'd already sat through an entire season of "Top Chef" which had started the inspiration, and marveled at the animated culinary skills in "Ratatouille." Those meatballs pushed me over the edge and now, I tend to step into the kitchen more regularly and actually like it. Who knew?

Even though I certainly was no less lazy, I managed to make my peace with this character trait last year. After the umpteenth time I put off a work project to the last possible minute, I realized something: I'll never be a real go-getter. It's possible I may not find my true calling or establish goals. This used to easily depress me. But, I accept this now and will simply be content to work around it. That's what I've done anyway, if you think about it, except I've just concurrently beat myself up. Now, I'll procrastinate without the familiar beratement and emerge in the same place as before, but without the feeling-bad-about-myself. Who knew?

About a month ago, when I decorated my tree and put up all my Christmas decorations, I did so in a different order from other years. At one point, this probably could not have happened, due to my incessant internal demand that things be done in the same way, all the time, to establish consistency and control. After I realized I broke my own rules, with no consequences and no sense of guilt, it has opened up a whole new world of possibilities. I've already tried it out in some other areas of my life. Of course, something like this necessitates baby steps, so it won't alway be perfect.

But, it's a start. Who knew?

Oh, If We All Were Mountaineers...

2008-12-28T11:41:00.000-05:00

First off, Merry Christmas and all that jazz - hope everyone had a good one and continues this happy holiday season with food and family and fun. I myself will lead by example...

What's really important is this: the WVU Mountaineers' bowl win on Saturday. We were lucky enough to see it live in Charlotte, with thousands of other gold and blue faithfuls and it proved to be a great game - in fact, I could have used a bit less on-field drama, but the Mountaineers wouldn't have it any other way. Pat White, who may emerge as one of my all-time favorite people in the world, did not disappoint and it meant the world to see him go out on a fantastic finish. Good work!

But, onto what I found most ineresting about the game, aside from the actual play: the fans. I am accustomed to the WVU legions and will forever feel at home surrounded by them and their seemingly endless supply of Bud Light, no matter in what geographical location we find ourselves. But UNC fans? I felt unprepared.

Some of them wore blazers and button-down shirts. Some had preppy powder blue sweaters and khakis. Some ladies were dressed in heels. And skirts. To go to, you know, the football game. Now, you will be hard-pressed to find many skirts in the WVU crowd, unless you count the man known as "Big Cat" and that little number he's worn the past one hundred years and I don't think I will.

Many of the Tar Heels appeared ready to go to some sort of fancy mixer. Some WVU fans looked like they might need their stomachs pumped. One intoxicated Mountaineer (And really, is there any other kind?) yelled to the Tar Heel section of the stadium, "Yeah, wine and cheese at a tailgate! This is UNC football!"

Wow. To top it all off, I sat a few rows behind a Tar Heel fan in a blue bow tie. I once knew a guy who wore a bow tie everyday at WVU law school. He seemed nice enough, but I am leary of bow-tie-wearers walking amongst me daily. But, I swear, even he took it off on Saturday morning to drink from a keg before Mountaineer games. I saw it.

Seriously, folks. It's a football game. And you live in North Carolina. It's a nice place, I know. I live here too. But, it's hardly the Hamptons or Boston or some similarly snooty place where this is considered normal. (If this sort of place even exists outside prep school movies ala "Scent of a Woman.")

Take off the bow tie for the bowl game. Put on a stained hoodie like any other self-respecting football fan, grab a hot dog and chug a Natural Light outside the stadium before you have to go inside, and scream your head off for your team. Maybe paint each side of your face different colors. Or take off your shirt in sub-zero temps. Something.

Or maybe, this is just what we do at WVU. And in this, too, we wouldn't have it any other way.

Hotlanta

2008-12-16T10:14:00.001-05:00

We spent the weekend in Atlanta. I have never visited the "new Capital of the South" as it was so referred in the Marriott's guide to the city, so it seemed a good time for a new adventure. While I spent most of the day Friday Christmas shopping in a mall (not the biggest, grandest plan I might have had at a different time of the year, but one must prioritize...) I did get to see a bit of the city on Saturday afternoon.

Scott and I took in the Georgia Aquarium, which fulfilled quite nicely. We have come to compare all aquariums to the one in New Orleans and always hope those poor creatures escaped Katrina's wrath. Anyway, Georgia's version wasn't equal to NOLA's, but we had a grand time nonetheless and I especially enjoyed the otters - they never cease to amaze, or amuse, me.

Before a gluttenous and wonderful dinner at New York Prime, a steakhouse of top repute, we strolled around the Centennial Olympic Park, centerpiece of the 1996 Summer Games and unfortunate home to the tragic Olympic bombing. This weekend, there was outdoor ice skating and blaring Christmas music, which made me super warm and fuzzy, though I could not convince Scott to join me for a wobbly turn around the rink. There are numerous statues and tributes to the city's Olympic hosting, and an interesting "Quilt of Remembrance" for the victims of the bombing.

As this visit was totally my idea, I couldn't help but take in every detail and one of those included the homeless who hang out in the park, not as tourists to remark on the spirit of the Olympics, but as residents of the streets. It saddened me, especially at this joyous time of the year and only solidified my gratitude at the very blessed life I do indeed live. While on my way to fill my belly with too much food and drink, I couldn't help but close my eyes and savor my fortunate existence.

It's nice to visit new places to remind me of my own warm and comfortable life. Happy holidays for sure.

Fear Not, Small Beagle

2008-12-09T18:26:00.001-05:00

I put up all the Christmas decorations over the weekend. For someone as obsessive as me, it took a while. After each little thing had found its home for the next month or so, my husband pointed to the Christmas Steelers snowman stocking which hangs from a corner of the television cabinet, 'Is Gracie still afraid of that?'

I gasped. I had completely forgotten about that phobia! In years past, Gracie the Beagle pup had an irrational, yet hilarious, fear of this black and gold snowman. When she saw it hanging lifeless in all its terror, she barked, cowered, and ran from it wildly. We discovered through trial and error that she seemed afraid of anything black and gold - my Terrible Towel, the dancing football man, a Hines Ward jersey. Quite a hazard in this household, let me tell you.

Squealing with anticipation, I grabbed the stocking from its nook and yelled, 'Let's find out!' So naturally, I stuck that stocking right in the Beagle's face as she lounged on her brown dog bed in front of the roaring fire.

What I got was absolutely nothing. Not a peep. Not a howl. Nary the bat of a Beagle eye. She looked at me as if to say, 'What? Can't you see I'm chilling over here? Take that thing and do what you will. What do you want from me?'

My husband and I shrugged and hung that stocking back up. Later, I thought how wonderful it would be if we all could let go of our quirky neuroses as easily as Gracie seems to have let go of hers. In a year's time, what once held such a terror had become completely forgotten. It held no power over her anymore.

Maybe we all will be so lucky. Maybe we all can learn to let go of our fears as quickly and easily as a Beagle.

Face to MySpace

2008-12-05T23:34:00.000-05:00

In the past week or so, I've discovered the evil nemesis of MySpace: Facebook. (In reality, I don't know that the two are enemies. In my mind, they are polar opposites and thus, must be pitted against one another. Cue the evil cackle - mwaaah, mwaah...)

While I naturally enjoy the more adolescent tone of MySpace, with the surveys and layouts and music and, well, surveys, I have to say it's been quite a trip to catch up with some long lost pals on the more sophisticated Facebook. In fact, there is also a bit of overlap, with more than one MySpace friend drifting with me between the two sites, updating profiles and pictures and current status.

In a way, I feel like I am a voyeuristic stalker of these other folks - and in large measure, of my own past. When I see those faces from days gone by, it's like a flashback to a whole different life. Was it really that long ago we were all hanging out at Kegler's on a Friday night? Gosh, that seems like yesterday.

Or, put another way, was it really only six years ago? Feels like forever. Our lives moved upward and onward and did so quickly. It happened in such a blur, I was hardly aware of it. One day, things were different, changed in some fundamental way while I turned my head for a second. Marriages and pregnancies and families and now, we're all hooked into each others' lives through virtual networking sites.

It's just as well. A lot of these old friends still have real-life, in-person relationships with each other, miles and lifetimes away from where I sit typing my random thoughts. Others are like me, off on our own to trudge through life on alternate paths.

I guess I'm just glad to have a connection where I can get it, even if it does come with a twinge of nostalgic sadness. These people are still my friends, even if we can't sit at the same table anymore to trade laughs and smokes and carefree whimsy. We have all gone to our respective corners, which is as it should be as you grow.

It is good to know everyone seems well. It is good to realize we can still share the love, even if we no longer can share a pitcher of beer. It is good to think that maybe, someday, in some spin on the universe, we may sit together again in person, laptops put away for a night of honest-to-goodness comraderie.

I, for one, hold out hope for that. I also know that Facebook may be the closest I ever come.

Ho, Ho, and Here We Go

2008-12-01T19:41:00.000-05:00

After turkey and cranberries and football and shopping, it's time to hunker down and settle into the Christmas spirit. Usually, I'm annoyed by the early onslaught of Andy Williams' "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" blasting through the mall in mid-November, but this year, I am ready.

And to prove it, I've made a list of holiday things I for which I can not wait:

I can't wait to give all my spare change to the Salvation Army bell ringers in front of the stores. It's a great way to feel fuzzy inside, to help out those who are less fortunate, and to unload about five pounds from my purse. Everyone wins!

I can't wait for that NFL game right before Christmas day when the sports shows have the wreaths on the front of the desks and the little trees in the shot and everyone is all festive. This year, that game will be the Steelers against the AFC powerhouse Titans. Oh boy - it will be a doozy! (And the decorations will only make it better in my mind.)

I can't wait to fight through crowds at the mall, right before the big day, when I need that one last thing. I know this sounds miserable, and in a way it kind of is. But, deep down, I love the pressure and exhileration and look of panic on my fellow shoppers' faces as we all scamble through American capitalism.

I can't wait to see the Biltmore Estate all decked out for the big day. It's fabulous and breathtaking and a true joy of living here near Asheville.

I can't wait for the frantic traveling, with all the quirks each family brings to the holiday traditions. At times, I can complain about the pace of running to and 'fro, but really, it's pretty fun.

I can't wait to spend Christmas morning with my little family in front of the fireplace and gorgeous tree. Merry times indeed!

The Dog Days of Thanksgiving

2008-11-26T09:48:00.001-05:00

This morning, I had to drop off my dogs at the kennel, where they will spend the next 5 days while I travel to the midwest. It's always a sad time because I would much prefer they be with me over this holiday time. However, no one wants that but me - they are not the most well-behaved pooches and you certainly can't just show up at the Thanksgiving dinner with a hyperactive 80 pound Chessie and a whiny, neurotic Beagle in tow.

No, that just is not acceptable. But I often think (and mention aloud to whoever will listen) that I could show up with some poorly behaved children and everyone would just have to deal with it and talk about me behind my back like any other self-respecting family. Yes, that is the difference when you've chosen canine kids over the more common human ones.

Oh well. Such is my life. And I would not trade it for anything in the world. It will be a happy reunion on Monday when we all come together in our happy home. While I am super excited for the holiday time and the family visit and shopping and laughter, I also can't wait to come back to my own little world here. That will also be a great feeling.

So, Happy Turkey Day - to both my peeps and my pups.

Get Down With Your Bad Self

2008-11-24T17:40:00.000-05:00

You know how "they" always like to say things like, "Well, things are never black and white, my dear" and you cringe because it is so cliche? Well, it's true. And as much as I hate to admit it, we'd probably all do better to remember the world works in various shades of gray.

We are all tempted to parcel everything out - you to the "good" column, you over here to the "evil." No exceptions, no negotiations. Right vs. wrong, positive or negative, everything has its place and a place for everything. I suppose some succeed in their own minds at this impossible task, though in reality, it's simply inconceivable to look at the world this way.

For the past five years or so, I've been involved in the court system. More specifically, I work with the criminals. Some of that time, I worked putting them away. Other times I helped spring them free. Now, I sit squarely in the middle, striving only to help when I can and taking no firm position. Yes, most would think the criminal courts provide some vindication because if you commit a crime, you're bad, right?

Except not always. And it's frustrating (and only somewhat depressing) to see horrible judgement calls from otherwise quite likable folks. These people are often a lot like me and even you - and are certainly similar to scores of people I have known in my life, except they've been caught in their crimes while other criminals roam free, untouched.

Sometimes luck is the only thing standing between prison and freedom. It certainly doesn't stand up to reason that everyone on the street is living a crime-free life. In fact, most people in your own day-to-day routine are guilty of a crime for which they have legally skated by any consequence.

Because having not been arrested does not mean you are automatically a stand-up citizen. And doing a bad thing does not always make you an overall bad person.

Sometimes, I wish it did. It would make my job a whole lot easier on the soul.

A Typical Saturday

2008-11-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

It's a weekend before Thanksgiving. Tomorrow brings the annual holiday separation, as my husband and I go our own ways for the next week. We might catch each other somewhere around "hump day" or so, but largely we're solo for the next seven days.

It's okay, if only a bit unconventional. This works for us and we have grown into this little tradition. There are deer to hunt, you know, and only one of us can do that - or wants to do that. (Hint: I root for the deers.) So, we go on our private treks for this holiday season.

But not yet. For today, as always, Saturday mornings are meant for coffee and something warm on the television. (I choose "The Daily Show.") The pups are in their usual routine - Gracie fans out on her dog bed just inches from the roaring fire and Emma paces the perimeter watching the snowy yard from the window. My husband is at the gym for his weekly racketball game and we're geared up for the Mountaineers' afternoon contest. (W! V! U! WVU!)

We will relish this normalcy for one last day. Then, after a week of travel and over-eating and family fun, we'll reconverge in our little abode here and take back our little family traditions.

All is right with our world.

I Wish I Might Make A Wish

2008-11-15T14:48:00.000-05:00

My very own super-duper, stratospheric wish list for today: a lazy, rainy, spend-the-day-in-front-of-the-fire-with-the-pups North Carolina Saturday:

I wish I worked at Dunder Mifflin (I know it's fictional, but still...) with Jim and Dwight and Pam and the 'Nard Dog so I could say Michael Scott is my boss, too. Jim could put my stuff in Jello anytime!

I wish I could just win the PowerBall any of the 2 or 3 times a month I play it, but I am everyday grateful that I only want the winnings for frivolous things and don't need it to live.

I wish the Steelers' offense all the best in the coming weeks because I love them and know they need the luck.

I wish someday I could meet one of my celebrity crushes (i.e. Matt Damon, Ryan Gosling, Dave Matthews, Russell Crowe, et cetera) in person, buy him a drink, and pick his brain about the genius of his craft. Really, that is what I would most like to do.

I wish I had known Carrie Bradshaw (I know it's fictional, but still...) and been one of her best friends.

I wish I had these awesome brown boots I saw last week, though they are way, WAY out of my price range.

I wish I had a completely stress-free life, where wishes frequently came true, and I wish everyone else had that life as well.

(I know it's fictional, but still...)

Thank Goodness!

2008-11-11T08:19:00.000-05:00

It's almost Thanksgiving. Well, kind of. I used to love Thanksgiving above almost all holidays. It's just not the same anymore.

As a kid, I'd wake up to smells of turkey and stuffing and watch the Macy's parade in my living room while my sister and I made place cards for the three grandparents who would attend - because with three extra people at the table, how would anyone know where to sit? My sister would also wear a cardboard pilgrim hat she made in kindergarten - when she ceased with the hat, she was likely a teenager. (I don't think that's a totally happy memory for her, but it is to me!! I know my mom still has that hat, so watch out sis!)

Now, Thanksgiving means travel. It is still awesome, don't get me wrong. We have new traditions - good ones, like the annual Black Friday shopping trip, which is highly anticipated each year. I still wish I could wake up at home and watch the parade, but seeing the family is certainly worth the extra steps taken to do so.

I think the real reason I loved Thanksgiving, though, was that moment when we went around the table and explained for what we were thankful. I'd think and plan my little speech to make sure I did not leave anything out.

Now, I realize I don't really need Thanksgiving day to be grateful for the good stuff in my life. All days, I find at least one thing for which to be thankful - and I can always find way more than just one! So, I don't get to watch the parade anymore (I miss the Rockettes most of all...)

But I do get to be thankful. Each and every day.

Best Week Ever!

2008-11-06T20:29:00.000-05:00

As weeks go, this one went pretty darn great. If I look back seven days from today, it's pretty scary how many great moments I experienced, not really knowing when I began how wonderful it would turn to be. In the tradition of our instantaneous culture, where yesterday's news is not too new to analyze historically, I shall partake for my own sake. (And make a little rhyme, too!)

I showed up to my sister's house last Thursday night and we got to spend some treasured and rare time together. We stayed up late and talked over the finer plot points of the movie "Atonement" while repeating our disdain that the Oscar went to "No Country For Old Men" (a terrific flick, don't get me wrong) over "There Will Be Blood" (infinitely better on so many levels) while we also mentioned the striking similarities between Bob from "Twin Peaks" and Randall Flagg from "The Stand." This might sound like the most boring way to spend an evening, unless you are us.

On Friday, we traveled to our "home-home" where we visited the parents, celebrated my sister's birthday, and then took the 'rents to dinner to belatedly celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary. We surprised them with a trip to Atlantic City and they were sufficiently shocked as we had hoped they would be.

Saturday brought a Mountaineer win (big time!) and a Michigan loss (ha-ha) and even an overtime thriller where Pitt pulled it out. Now, I know as a WVU fan I must hate Pitt - and I do - but in a "lesser of two evils" scenario, where Pitt played Notre Dame (oh, the hatred runs deep...) I had to pull for Pitt. Don't shoot me, as I did grow up an hour from the 'Burgh and followed my heart to WVU and deplore Penn State...I had to root the way I did. Notre Dame must go down when possible, especially when WVU becomes bowl eligible on the same day Michigan loses its own eligibilty for the first time in thirty-plus years.

Sunday brought more family time and Monday night I relished in an important Steelers win against the Redskins - what a show! In any other week, that alone might have been enough to send me over the gleeful edge, but on Tuesday, our fine country elected a fine new president. The week literally could not have been better. (Unless I win the West Virginia PowerBall - then, it really could!)

Sometimes, this strange cycle of ups and downs does shift your way. I realize not everyone had such a fine week, that some perceptions of the very same events lead some people to the depths of despair. I myself have been there (oh, about four years ago...) My joy is tempered with this understanding and I can sympathize.

But I will not apologize for the happiness I feel. I just can't, even if I wanted to do so. The world looks a bit brighter for these days and I will bask in such glow for a little while at least. Not everyone gets a week like this one and I may never see another.

And I am thankful.

Yes, In Fact, We Did!

2008-11-05T00:50:00.000-05:00

The night is old or the day is young, however you wish to put it. I am rosy red with emotion and pride - all lovely elements in the wee hours of any morning, but more poignant somehow on this morning, historic in our blessed country.

My thoughts will likely be better put tomorrow or the next day, but right now, I must let out some of the joy which brims and bubbles not just under the surface but through it and over it, too. It's been a long road. I only imagine how those who have walked the path must feel, deep down in that place not blue or red on a map.

While I sat on the sidelines, breathless, they marched for a change in this nation, unprecedented in scope. It's not just the relief that I can't keep in, it's the hope which I forgot I had the chance to feel, forgot was still in me. It waited, patiently, for the chance to escape safely and lo, it appears to have arrived on a warm day in November.

The more insightful ideas will come, rampantly I am sure, in the next few days and weeks and months. Right now, my thoughts present in snippets and tears.

For tonight, I leave in full the text message from my best friend, with whom I've shared my passion and concern for the fate of our country:

"Thank god for obama! we can all stay in the country - who would have thought they would call it before midnight. back to bed good night!"

Indeed. Good night, good luck, and good bye!

Jinx, Shminx

2008-10-29T16:34:00.001-04:00

Do you believe in jinxes and superstition? Do you make wishes at 11:11, eyes closed in deep thought? Or do you believe all this is a bunch of hooey?

Logically, I understand I can't change the world based upon the clothing I choose. However, if you heard a story about a girl who wore a particular Steelers fleece sweatshirt last year for the AFC Wild Card game aganist the Jaguars (which we lost) and who then did not wear that fleece again until Sunday for the match-up with the Giants (yep, another loss) would you think the fleece sweatshirt was cursed? Or merely a cooincidental theme?

It might sound crazy, but today when I went to vote (which we can do early here in NC) I put that fleece sweatshirt on and then debated whether I should wear it while I cast my ever-important vote. What if it really is cursed? Could I bring down the fate of the nation? I thought maybe I should just rip it off and wear something else.

But, I did not. My more rational belief process won out. While I do not fully trust our version of an "electoral system" I don't think my vote will matter more or less due to the clothes on my back.

Gosh, I hope it turns out my way. Or I will forever blame myself and that fleece sweatshirt. As crazy as it sounds, I just can't help it. I don't want to have to wrangle with that idea for the rest of my life - never mind the opposite choice in office for the next four years.

But I'll think twice anyway before I wear it again on gameday. Old habits die hard, I guess - and with the Steelers, any little bit helps.

I'm Dreaming of a White...Halloween?

2008-10-28T13:37:00.000-04:00

It's freakin' freezing down here in the alleged "south." It snowed this morning and the wind is brutal - and all before Halloween. The multitudes of political signs on the roadside even remained snow-covered on my way into work! (I still know at which to wink and at which to scoff, though - I guess I've got them memorized at this point.)

I thought when I moved to North Carolina, the "Carolina" (which in my mind equals sandy beaches, sun, and seagulls) would somehow outweigh the "North" (i.e. snowy snow and snowflakes laced in snow.) But, I guess the mountainous terrain keeps us firmly planted in seasonal changes and days like this remind me more of gray cold Pennsylvania than southern skies.

When I first got here, I routinely became perturbed about this weather. Darn it, I moved south for a reason! But today, while I shivered due to my ridiculous outfit (what the hee was I thinking?) I actually appreciated what nature doled out.

Some gorgeous autumn leaves still hang on the trees, while the rest roll about on the frozen ground. While the temperature is Santa Claus, there are still pumpkins on porches and fall is in full effect. (I do feel a bit bad that Halloween costumes might need altered for this colder spell - boy did I hate having to put a sweater over a carefully calculated outfit for the annual parade. Gah!) The change might be a bit drastic, but it reminds of the shift in time, from summery greens to wintery nights, warmed by fire and love.

There are, of course, good things to be had in all times of the year. I don't think I really took that in as much in my past. In a way, it took this move south for me to truly appreciate all the good things colder days and nights provide.

It just can't be summer forever, you know...

Come Josephine in Your Psychic Machine

2008-10-26T13:12:00.000-04:00

(Sorry in advance for the longer-than-usual post, but a promise is a promise...)
In honor of the ten-year anniversary this month:

Her name is Josephine and in north central West Virginia her psychic status remains legendary. (She may be dead now, if women of her power ever die…I don't know and would prefer to think of her as alive and kicking, if you don't mind.) For many of my Morgantown years, she remained a theoretical mysticism, only spoken of in third-hand accounts. To add to her intrigue, she had no advertisements for her services and you only got her phone number through personal references.

I'd always heard rumors she did private home readings, so when a brand new friend invited me across the Pennsylvania state line to a "party with Josephine" I breathlessly shared my enthusiasm. We made the trek with several other excited girls only to discover the address and directions led to an empty house, fully furnished but certainly unoccupied on that date. We drove home with a palatable disappointment.

My life went on, of course, always nagged by my unfulfilled psychic visit. Part of my routine became to peruse the pocket books in the supermarket checkout. Each month there would be new installments to decode your dreams and astrologically decipher your life and I ate it up.

One early spring night I visited the all-night grocery with a potential suitor (we'll call him "Dave" because that's his name) who had taken to cooking savory dishes after midnight. I looked at those tiny books along the aisle and wondered out loud at my supernatural fascination. While Dave paid the bill, the customer in front of him looked over at me and mentioned out-of-the-blue, "I just came from Josephine tonight. Do you want her number?" He then pulled out a coupon card from Garfield's restaurant, wrote that long-coveted phone number on the back and handed it to me, dumbfounded, in the check-out line.

Strangely enough, I did not call that number right away. That night I mulled it over with Dave and pondered the reasons I wanted that psychic vision. What did I want to hear? For what did I search? Days and weeks and months later, I still reached for those answers and left the card in my planner, a daily reminder of that for which I both longed and feared.

The spring turned to summer, which flew into fall. The circle of friends I had adored so much had broken into fragments and scattered, not by my choice but certainly to my advantage. Still, my little life started to feel foreign a bit lost.

One night, while under the influence of Molson Golden and pure adrenalin, my new roommate and I decided to finally call Josephine on the phone and make an appointment. Why that time? I can't say, except that whatever Josephine told to me could certainly not disappoint. At this particular low point, you could say I had the most open mind ever.

Josephine answered on the first ring and informed me I would be coming on Monday at 6:00. No negotiations or wrangling. No directions. I'd call one half hour before I left my home on Monday to find out how to get there. I'd bring someone with me, of course. I hadn't told her the appointment was for two.

So, I called her Monday afternoon and got the directions. My roommate and I drove the twenty or so miles to find a small residential home, where we entered a welcome, warm kitchen. It smelled like it looked: a grandmother's house, all electric heat and remnants of food and soft surfaces. A middle-aged lady sat at the round kitchen table and told us she had a standing appointment with Josephine every week. Josephine had predicted all the major mine disasters in the town, a neighbor's husband's death, and any births and deaths on the typical horizon. Sit, she told us. We were in for a treat.

Josephine's bedroom door opened and she summoned me inside. She stood barely five feet tall hunched over. She had gray hair in an old-lady frizz on her head and wore a calf-length housecoat and slippers. When I see the Oracle in The Matrix movies, I picture Josephine, with only the ethnicity swapped.

She motioned me toward a card table and metal folding chair. Josephine handed me a deck of playing cards, directed me to sit, and told me to shuffle and place them, face down, into four piles.

I formed my four, fateful piles. Then, she turned card after card after card and began to lay out my life's plan, as she saw it. A half hour later, I left a vastly different girl.
***
The details of her reading intrigue to this day. While on an early date with my eventual husband Scott, I realized he was a "dark, handsome man from my past" just as I'd been warned one would try to contact me. Josephine had told me I'd be married or engaged within a year of that reading, that I'd likely marry someone "a little above me" in terms of money or education (since I do not prefer a "caretaker" role) and that he'd likely be named William, yet use an alternate moniker. So when I became engaged to William Scott less than a year from the psychic visit, it seemed spooky to say the least.

A great deal has already materialized in ten years – my move south, my career switch, my additional education, the marriage, an increased financial state. I still think all the time of my visit – me, with my "long, happy lifeline." I wonder if I'll ever meet that third child of whom she spoke (there were three kids in my lifeline, not all of them mine; same with the two marriages; Scott does have two kids from his first marriage, you know…)

Over the years, Scott has grown to worry about my turning right in the rain or mist (because "that is it" she warned) even though he maintains an outward skepticism. Yes, Josephine does play a role to this day.

These past ten years only solidified my belief in her truth. And also in my belief that nothing beats a good story – especially if it's a story about a seemingly truth-telling psychic around Halloween.

So what if it did take me years to get her number? It was well worth it, I'd say.

Deja What?

2008-10-23T09:28:00.001-04:00

Since Halloween is near, I post the following. (Not my original idea, as you will soon find out...)

I began to write about my spooky experience with The Psychic. A few sentences in, I made a decision to save that idea and use it for tomorrow night's edition of Eve's Night Out, the women's writing bonanza I try so hard to attend each month.

So, I opened a new window to copy my already-started post and had a stronger-than-usual sense of deja vu - right down to what little Mike Greenberg blathered on about on "Mike and Mike in the Morning." Cooincidence? Maybe. But when it surrounds The Psychic story, one can not be sure.

My deja vu happens at least five times a week, no joke. It is a powerful phenomenon which I find so fascinating and exhilerating, I hope it never diminishes. (I am also quite creeped out by it, but my curiosity trumps my fear. Maybe in this case only.) It's happened several times as I've dealt one way or another with The Psychic story, so I've convinced myself there is an otherworldly connection.

I wish I could be dialed in with the supernatural, ala John Edward, to tap into these ideas and access the other layers of consciousness. I don't seem to have that gift. Sure, there are times I can predict the phone will ring and who will call and the like - but I chalk it up to energy forces and not true psychic ability, the same idea as those boardwalk beach ladies who overcharge you on vacation. True psychic visions are rare and beautiful to me and I will forever be in awe of those with such talent.

All I can do is repeat the personal glimpses I've had in my life. I feel blessed to have even that to share.

Scary? You bet. Worth it? Absolutely.

The Filthiest Towel in the Whole USA

2008-10-20T09:26:00.000-04:00

In honor of the Steelers' important win yesterday and to commemorate the fact that the "Curse of the Smokers' Barn" (long story) appears obliterated, my homage to a legend:

All real Steelers fans have at least one Terrible Towel. You hang onto it, take it with you to games and thrash it about in wild enthusiasm when good stuff happens. As a crazed fan at real-life Steelers games, I've walked my ice cold beer past venders hawking bright yellow Terrible Towels, hot off the iron. I've visited the Steelers store many times and marveled at the piles of brand new Terrible Towels, and once even bought one so mighty Myron Cope could autograph it. (That particular version hangs on my wall, never to be used in any other way but decorative.) But as for my own towel, well...

My faithful Terrible Towel is not bright yellow, though it may have once been - I don't know because I haven't known it since its inception. Now, it's more of a dingy mustard color. I received it as a gift and I think my dad might have found it outside good old Three Rivers Stadium years ago. This could also be a family urban legend in itself 'cause no one is for sure. I know it's old and beat up and I've had it for well over ten years. Before that? Your guess. The edges are frayed from being swung and pulled and thrown in frustration, stepped on, forgotten behind at Kegler's to be frantically retrieved, and drug to and 'fro from single apartments to married homes.

There is no discernable smell, though there should be, since I've used it as a bar rag to soak up bar spills, a napkin to wipe beer and hot sauce from my face, and a weapon to ward away rival fans. I've never washed it, out of fear it might fall apart and out of superstition that it could lose some of its magic. It is, then, far and away, the absolute filthiest, most germ-ridden article ever allowed in any of my many abodes. (Some of which, in college, were themselves quite prone to filth and germs.)

And I love it. I'm proud when with fellow revelers that my towel is of the vintage variety - not brand new and pristine. My towel has seen the thrills of victory (the Colts go down on Vanderjagt's "accuracy", the Steelers win the Super Bowl) and the agony of defeat (Super Bowl loss, how many times did the Patirots beat us?) I've had my faithful towel way longer than most boyfriends or any one of my jobs. You can't beat that kind of loyalty with a stick.

So, I drag that dirty old thing to a new generation of Steelers. From Gary Anderson to Jeff Reed, it's with me through thick and thin. Every time I see it, I smile. I've been through a lot in the past fifteen or so years and I'm reminded that my towel has too, albeit in a different sense.

We've been together this long and I know we have many years ahead of us. Here we go, Steelers. Here. We. Go.

Life's Loveliness

2008-10-16T13:21:00.000-04:00

Sometimes life goes so fast and is filled with great excitement and I can't pause to reflect properly. Such is one of those times, apparantly, and you won't hear me complain. The past week and a half has been filled with both fun and insight. The highlights:

I spent one awesome, hot Sunday afternoon on a football field with thousands of my compadres to hear Barack Obama passionately lay out his plan for this country. At the end of his speech, amid the deafening noise, a flock of doves flew across the crisp blue sky and proud emotion overtook me. In that one moment, I truly felt filled with hope. The high has not subsided. (Later that evening, as if it couldn't get better, the Steelers thumped the Jaguars in surprising fashion. Let me tell you, I went to bed one happy camper that night, sunburn and all.)

Scott and Emma and Gracie and I renewed our fall tradition of a weekend at our West Virginia cabin surrounded by the brightest fall hues and smells of autumn. Though West Virginia takes its fair share of hits (some deserved, most definitely not) there is no better place to appreciate nature's glory - particularly at this time of year. Even the shacks along Tucker County's winding roads appear somewhat less sad when surrounded by red and orange brilliance. (To top it off, we listened to the struggling Mountaineers beat Syracuse at WVU's homecoming and our cheers might have been heard across those hills in Morgantown! Go Noel Devine, you little running man!)

Hopefully, these resounding memories will build upon themselves. In reality, I know life is not one beautiful scenario after another. Which makes it all the more lovely when you are handed some goodness.

Thanks, life. Thank you very much.

Spread the Love

2008-10-03T20:36:00.001-04:00

Technology often scares me. Last night I perused iTunes and found some cool music to add to my playlist and suddenly, a toolbar popped up on the side of the screen informing me of some other music I might like.

Now, I'll gladly take tunes suggestions from my friends or even a random dude on the street if offered, but from a computer program? That is just too creepy for me.

And how could the computer possibly be able to know what I might like? I myself can barely figure that out, which is why Kanye West and Alanis Morisette live harmoniously with Roger Miller, Christina Aguilera, Maroon 5 and scores of showtunes - not to mention Frank Sinatra, JET, and Bobbi Gentry. This is either the most open-minded, inclusive compilation or the most schizophrenic. Either way, it's all genuinely me.

My varied tastes speak to what I believe is my ability to appreciate lots of different cultures and standpoints equally. For example, I might really want to sing along with Reba's "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia" (mostly because I want to enthusiastically agree "Don't trust yourself to no backwards Southern lawyer!") A few minutes later I could totally be in the mood for angry old Eminem, then suddenly switch to Billy Joel's "Piano Man."

I don't think this is crazy, just wide open for anything that speaks to me. My diversity is one of my greatest assets and quite possibly the one of which I'm most proud.

There is no way iTunes could read me that deeply.

Stress-Sanity

2008-10-02T10:08:00.000-04:00

What a stressful week it's been. Never mind the Steelers' inability to put the Monday Night Football game away in a reasonable fashion, forcing an overtime they just didn't need before the match-up in nasty Jacksonville on Sunday night.

Put aside the fact that the Project Runway judges found it somehow reasonable to keep whiny, disrespectful Kenly on my television screen yet one more week (which I hope is the last week of her, though I know better.) And don't get me started on Desperate Housewives - how intrigued I am by this brand new mystery, which I can't keep track of already and it's only been one episode!

Sure, the country is in financial ruin, we don't have any gasoline in this part of the country, and my own personal household has weathered several emotional storms the past few days - and it isn't even Friday yet. I find it nearly impossible to keep track of what makes me anxious half the time, since it could be one of about fifty things I may or may not have made up in my head.

Such is my nemesis in this world: the mangled idea of danger around every turn. I have learned to keep this at bay much of the time - or, at least, hide it in the attempt to "fake it until you make it." I am a walking contradiction: happy, fun, lively, and wrought with anxious paralysis.

I try to take this insight and turn it into the way to help myself - accentuate the positive and downplay the problem areas (as Tim Gunn might advise.) This will not be fixed in a day, but for today, it's my mantra.