The Scootch Doctor

Actually, the new guy is the "slide down" doctor but, that's beside the point. I expected him to say "You're 44 years old. It's perfectly normal." I was totally unprepared to hear "Your uterus is enlarged. I'm going to order an ultrasound."

Aging Parents

My Mom and I planned on going to Mass at 10:30 a.m. on Sunday. At 7 a.m. she called Time & Temperature to find out what the temperature was so she could decide what she was going to wear. I said "You checked the temperature now to decide what you're going to wear three hours from now?" Then, of course, she looked at me as if I was the one who just did something that didn't make sense.

Today, she has a doctor's appointment at 10:30 a.m. At 7:30 a.m. she started getting ready. Beginning at about 8:45 a.m. she will sit in a chair, completely dressed and ready to go, watching the clock, so she won't be late when the time comes to leave for the doctor's office ... at 10:15.

Yes, I know everyone has idiosyncrasies that drive other people crazy. I wonder why people develop more of them when they older.

Cyril Wecht

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but I covered two events at which he spoke. One was on the 35th anniversary of President Kennedy's death; the other on JonBenet Ramsey. Several days after the Kennedy talk, I received a hand-signed letter from Dr. Wecht in which he told me I did a good job making a complicated issue easy to read, and he appreciated it. Cool, huh?

I also recently learned that he was involved in the real-life unsolved murder that inspired my first novel, Contempt of Court. GSG said he was very well-informed about the case and had very vivid recollections of it, despite the fact it happened nearly 30 years ago (at the time GSG talked to him). Maybe I should send Dr. Wecht a complimentary copy. Now, that's an idea.

So, although these are serious subjects about death and murder, me being me, I have to add a little self-serving humor (even if I'm the only one who thinks it's funny. There's now only one degree of separation between me and Dan Abrams (aka "my boyfriend"), because he's interviewed Dr. Wecht.

Matchmaking Part III, um, or IV, uh ... Oh, who cares?

I talked to the guy who's been attempting to do some matchmaking for me. He told me he hasn't forgotten and he's still trying but he's having trouble because, and I quote, "I didn't realize what jerks my friends are." One good thing is that he said he doesn't want to set me up with a jerk. Thank you. I've been with enough jerks to last a lifetime.

Johnnie Cochran

Short-sighted, uninformed people with closed minds really piss me off. He was about so much more than the O.J. Simpson case. He was, possibly, one of the greatest civil rights, and human rights, lawyers of all time, certainly of his generation. He righted so many injustices. He was a champion of the downtrodden. Please, if all you know about him is "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit," please go read more about him. And, even in the O.J. trial, he managed to point out corruption and bad practices in law enforcement and certain practices in evidence collection and storage, as well as incompetance in the L.A. District Attorney's office.

I was totally appalled when my boyfriend said that after his first show last night he got e-mails from people saying they would never watch him again, and lost all respect for him, because he declared his friendship for Cochran and spoke nicely about him. These people need to get a clue. I would think that people watching the most intelligent and balanced news show on the air would have already had a clue. Apparently not.

Michael Jackson

I don't remember if I've written anything about Michael Jackson. I can't imagine that I have because it's just too sad on so many levels that I wouldn't even know where to start. So, the only thing I'm going to write is something David Letterman said last night:

"I'm beginning to think he's peculiar."

The Dentist

I like my dentist. One reason is that he gives me lots of Novocaine so I can't feel a thing. Because of the bad dentist I had several years ago, I hadn't been going for a while. He was an old guy and shouldn't have been practicing dentistry as long as he was. The last time I went to him, he drilled right into my cheek and into my gum. OUCH! And that's an understatement. So, after that, I didn't go to the dentist for years. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that when I started going back, I needed a lot of stuff done. I'm such a hypochondriac and drama queen that I thought for sure I was going to have most of my teeth pulled and get dentures. Luckily, it was mostly fillings, along with two deep cleanings and one extraction. The last filling was today. But now comes the hard part. Root canal. Yikes! Even the sound of it scares me. But I keep telling myself I'll be glad I had it done. I hope I still like my dentist after the root canal.

Stupidity

My ex has bouts of extreme jealousy, even now after we haven't been together for four years. He was even jealous when I weighed 220 pounds and simple logic would tell a normal person that no one else was even looking at me, let alone thinking about doing anything with me. A couple of days ago he told me he saw a friend of mine (a guy I'll call The Trouble Maker) at a convenience store and The Trouble Maker mentioned that he just saw me there the day before. My ex said to me "That's why you go there, isn't it? Because he lives across the street." I said "No. I go there because cigarettes are 40 cents cheaper, the coffee is always fresh and it's 1 mintue from where I work." He didn't believe me. He still believes I go there to run into The Trouble Maker. But, he didn't bother to take this consideration. I didn't tell him, but still. I've been going to that particular convenience store since September because they had this awesome pumpkin spice cappucino that I quickly became addicted to. That's when I learned that cigarettes are way cheaper there. In the six months I've been going there, I've seen The Trouble Maker one time inside the store. However, I talk to him at least, at least once a week at work when he calls and/or comes in. We call each other at home for other reasons and I see him at other places around town a few times a week. We've been to each other's houses, and are welcome at each other's houses any time. So yes, I switched convenience stores so I could run into him once in six months. Sheesh!

Seinfeld vs. Real Life

Thanks to an episode of Seinfeld the "kiss hello" has been immortalized. If you'll remember, there was a problem with a woman Jerry didn't know that well (I think) giving him the "kiss hello," and he thought it was inappropriate. Comedy ensued. Anyway, because of that episode, there is little mention anywhere of another greeting, which can be misconstrued. The hug hello. I must admit I hadn't even given the hug hello much thought until this morning.

Let's add some background, shall we? There's this guy (Surprise! Me talking about a guy!) who I've known for quite some time. In the last year or so we've gotten to know each other a little better because I volunteer at a place where he is quite frequently. But I still consider us on the borderline between acquaintances and friends. When I first started volunteering at this place, I had fleeting thoughts about a relationship with this guy. But, when several months went by and nothing happened, I figured he wasn't interested.

Fast forward to this morning after church. I was walking through the parking lot, saw him getting into his car and waved. He got out of his car, waited 'til I walked up to him, and then he wished me a happy Easter and hugged me. Unlike the kiss hello, which was unwelcome, the hug hello, albeit unanticipated, was nice. So nice, in fact, that I was thinking Whoa. Can we do that again? Now, I hope I can explain this properly. The conversation we had was uncomfortable in a good kind of way. It was kind of like we were both saying "I haven't seen you in about six weeks and I missed you, but I'm too shy to tell you that so I'm going to make silly small talk about anything I can think of just so we can keep talking."

Ya know, sometimes the answer is right in front of you. You just have to open your eyes and look. Now I have to wonder if this is the answer. I'm sure you know updates will be forthcoming. ;)

Personal hygiene

Have you ever been in contact with someone who really stinks? I mean really stinks, so much so that you practically gag because the smell is just so overwhelming? So much so that the smell lingers after the person leaves the room? So much so that if you hang your coat next to this person's the smell permeates into your coat so you have to get it dry cleaned? I don't get it. Can't they smell themselves? Doesn't it gross them out, too? Or are they just so used to it that it doesn't bother them? But, I mean, really, they must know, mustn't they? Doesn't common sense tell you that if you don't take a shower or wash your clothes for a week you're going to stink?

I realize people have issues. One of the reason I got fat isn't that I didn't want to be attractive to guys (for reasons I've mentioned before but don't feel up to writing about now). But, I got over it, lost weight and I'm pretty much ok now. Are smelly people purposely trying to disgust other people so they won't get close to them?

I have a friend who had a hard time taking showers, or being around water at all, for that matter, because he was sexually abused as a child and the pervert used to make him perform oral sex in a swimming pool. But he eventually worked everything out.

So, see? I do understand about issues. I also understand about working them out. If, however, the issue is laziness, that's just fucking rude. Have a little consideration for the people you come in contact with everyday.

Birthdays

Today would have been my dad's 80th birthday. I was thinking about that last night at work. When I got home, I was sitting in a chair and thought I heard a bell ring. I asked my mom if she rang the bell she uses when she needs something from me. She didn't. A couple of minutes later, she came downstairs, tapped on a music box thingy that's a Leprechaun that my sister got for my dad for his birthday the year before he died. Mom asked if that was the bell I heard. It was. So, I guess my dad knew I was thinking about him and wanted to thank me or something.

Scary

I tried really hard to keep my eyes opened after work last night so I could watch the rerun of my boyfriend's show. Thanks goodness his rerun was on to keep me awake. Then, at 1 a.m., as I was about to get toothpicks to prop my eyelids open, I'm all ready to see Dan but, nooooo. It was Joe Scarborough, who I do not like. But I didn't panic yet. I figured if I could manage to stay awake for another hour I could watch the rerun of the Special Edition of The Abram's Report. I knew Scarborough wouldn't keep me awake, so I switched to VH1 and watched "The 40 Least Metal Moments" or something like that. Some were funny. Some were weird. Some were stupid. But there was one that was downright scary and I hope I never have to see it again. It was Celine Dion singing AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long." Scary, I'm tellin' ya. Scary. And it was sick and wrong, too. Please Celine, for the love of God, do not attempt to sing that song again.

Good Friday

When I was a senior in college, my three best friends and I went to Bermuda for Spring Break. Instead of staying in a hotel, we stayed in a guest house, which we thought would be way cooler. It was. The people we stayed with, George and Ida Storms, even told the people at their private beachfront country club we were allowed to go in as their guests. It was a nice change from the crowded bars and wilder-than-we-were college kids. (side note: The hunky bartender called us "Charlie's Angels." How could we not love it there?). The three of us who are Catholic promised our parents we would at least step into a church on Good Friday. So, as soon as we woke up, instead of heading straight for the beach, we got on our mopeds and searched for a Catholic church. We couldn't find one, so we thought Episcopal would do. I mean, we didn't promise we'd step into a Catholic church. Just a church. After that, we went back to the guest house and, on the kitchen counter, found a loaf of freshly baked banana bread with a note that said "Happy Good Friday." We kind of looked at each other, confused. Happy Good Friday? We also learned that Good Friday is the day of the annual kite flying contest and the whole day is a big celebration. I guess when you live in a tropical paradise with pink sand beaches and pastel-colored buildings your perspective on things is a little different.

More best friend woes

Why, oh, why must he tell me he "loves" the sound of my voice? And, must he tell me during the second long distance phone call within two hours? Not that I want him to stop, of course. I'm just sayin.

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Last one

Barring unforeseen circumstances, this will be my last Terri Schiavo post. First of all, I need to say I feel sympathy for her parents. I wouldn't wish this situation on anyone.

With that said, I must repeat that it's about what Terri wants. All the people who say she hasn't been represented in court are wrong. That's what her husband is trying to do. Nineteen. Count 'em. Nineteen times the courts have ruled that there is evidence proving she didn't want to be kept alive like this.

What's bothering me the most now, however, are the lies. Now, after 15 years, there are signs of abuse? Now, although part of her brain has "melted" away she's speaking? Sounds like desperate, last ditch efforts to me.

I suppose it's a moot point now, but I hope people eventually come to realize this is what she wanted. Not that I know for sure but, despite the problems with it, I do belive in our court system. I believe the judges have ruled in her best interests.

Again, it's about what Terri wanted.

This could be a problem

I just found out my boyfriend is a vegetarian. Low carb and vegetarian don't mix, ya know? But I'm sure we can work it out.

Disclaimer: For the record, I know he is not my boyfriend, although, heretofore, unless he tells me to stop, he will be referred to as such in this blog.

Another reason ...

... I don't like to write about serious stuff is that sometimes I feel weird switching gears & getting back to normal. But I'm going to do it now. For my entire life, or at least the part of my life since I started thinking about this stuff, I have been thinking that the first president of my lifetime was John F. Kennedy. Last night, out of the blue, it hit me that Kennedy was elected in 1960, which means he wasn't inaugurated until 1961. That means Eisenhower was president when I was born. So, what's my point? I don't have one. It was just a random observation.

My Dad (continued from yesterday)

When my dad went into the hospital for the last time in March 1989 he was on life support for 10 days. For the first few days, he was able to write us notes and communicate, make jokes, tell us he loved us (through notes and sign language), watch television (the St. Patrick's Day parade, in particular, I remember). But as his condition deteriorated and we realized he would have to live the rest of his life on feeding and breathing tubes and a catheter, we knew a decision had to be made. If he couldn't walk around, especially outside, go out to buy books he wanted to read, and interact with his family and friends, his life wouldn't be what he wanted it to be. Ultimately, it was my mom's decision to discontinue life support. My mom's decision. My father's wife. The person who should make the decision. Not his son or daughters. Not his brothers. His wife. Believe me, it was not an easy decision but, because she was his wife, the rest of the family supported her decision. We would have supported it no matter what it was because we knew that she knew better than anyone what he would want.

My mother has let me and her doctor know that she does not want to be kept alive through artifical means. If she can't go shopping, go to Mass, garden, interact with her family, especially her grandchildren, her life would have no meaning. Unless, for whatever reason, I die before she does, I know I will have to be the one to give the order not to keep her alive via machines. However, I do know that's what she wants. It'll be hard, but I can do it. I can't imagine what Michael Schiavo is going through, knowing that he's trying to abide by his wife's wishes and her family won't let him.

If the Schindler's and Terri's so-called advocates insist on using right-to-life as an argument and continue to ignore her wishes, I hope some part of their minds are wondering "What if Michael is right?"

Oh, and by the way, did you know that the video clips of Terri from four years ago were gleaned from hundreds, hundreds of hours of video tape? Hundreds of hours and they could only come up with less than two minutes worth of clips that allegedly show she responds to certain stimuli? I say "allegedly" because medical experts say that, during hundreds of hours, random responses will occur and could be interpreted as a valid response. But they're not. They're random.

Also, I wish her family would stop saying she's being denied food and water. That's not the case. And, medical experts have also said she can't feel hunger or pain so when people say she's being starved to death, that's a misnomer.

It's not about any of that, though. It's about what Terri wanted. Please remember that. It's about what Terri wanted.

For the record, if I can't read, write, take pictures and interact with my friends and family, there's no point for me to be alive. My family knows that. Does your family know what you would want should you end up in Terri's condition?

My Dad

I didn't want to write about this today in relation to Terri Schiavo because it was 16 years ago today that my dad died. However, as I was thinking about my earlier post, I thought it was important to mention that I have actually been through the end-of-life decision with a human being.

I'm at work so I really don't want to get into it now because I'm sure I'll get too emotional. But I will write more tomorrow. For now, I'll leave you with this ... My dad was on life support. Then, he wasn't.

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Isn't it ironic?

Terri Schiavo is in the condition she's in because of complications from an eating disorder. Now, she'll die because her feeding tube was taken out. Talk about irony.

I usually don't get into heavy, controversial stuff on this blog because I'm too sensitive to the negative comments I would get. But I can't keep quiet about this. I'm upset with the people who don't understand that the court battles are about what Terri wanted. I've lost track of how many judges ruled that there is evidence that she didn't want to be kept alive like this. Her parents do not have evidence that she wanted to be kept alive. It seems totally reasonable to me that she would tell her husband about her wishes and not her parents. Husbands and wives tell each other things every day that they don't tell their parents.

I realize that this isn't the same thing that Michael Schiavo is going through but, my ex is paranoid schizophrenic (and has other medical/mental illness conditions). When I realized I couldn't deal with any of it anymore, I was ready to move on way before he was ready to let me. So, I can't blame Michael Schiavo for moving on. There's no evidence that he was having an affair before Terri's heart attack and subsequent condition. In my opinion, he's being realistic by moving on. But ... and this is a big but ... if we are to believe him, he's still fighting for what his wife wanted. Dan Abrams had a good point last night. He said he hoped his wife would fight for him this hard if he'd made his wishes known only to her.

I also realize putting a pet to sleep is not the same as deciding to remove the feeding tube from a human being. However, five years ago this month we had to decide whether to put our 13-year-old beagle to sleep. Because we don't have children, she was our baby. Only pet owners, especially those without children, can understand the bond between a pet and her people. The reason I'm writing about this in relation to Terri Shiavo is that it's a quality of life decision. Our dog's back legs were paralyzed and the vet said "There's nothing I can do for this dog." Yes, we could have kept her alive but she would have had to scootch around on her butt because there was no hope for recovery. Could we do that to a dog whose passion in life was running in the woods? No. As I said, a dog and a human are not the same but the quality of life issue is the same.

I do feel bad for Terri's parents. Of course they don't want their daughter to die. Of course they want to keep her alive. Of course they say they will see that she's cared for. But ... is that what she wanted? I wish her parents could look at that as the main issue. Perhaps they could see that, because of their daughter, thousands of people now have Living Wills because they don't want their families to go through what this family is going through. If her parents could see that their daughter has left a legacy and her situation has helped so many people it would be easier to let her go.

Tip of the Day

Never fall in love lust with your best friend.

There probably isn't a need for an explanation here but, I feel I should expound just a bit. When you feel as if you're falling in love lust with your best friend, you sometimes tend to read more into things he/she says and does than was actually intended. For example: I needed to call you. Needed? What does that mean? Wanted to? Yeah. I get that. Felt like it. Yeah. I get that, too. But needed?

If only he wasn't married and didn't live hundreds of miles away. *sigh*

The perfect guy

A few months ago I wrote about what I'm looking for in a guy. I'm revising that. I want a clone of Steve who lives closer to here and isn't married.

Of angels, saints and signs

Let's review, shall we? For several months I've been trying to place my trust in angels and saints and the power of prayer. But, because I'm somewhat of a skeptic, I have trouble totally letting go and believing the angels, saints and whatever higher powers are out there are going to help me, so I ask for signs. Usually I get one. I get coins mysteriously appearing in front of me as I'm walking. Front plates on vehicles that have a message I've been asking for or, in the case of my prayers to St. Theresa, roses of some kind. Last week, I watched "The Sound of Music" and heard "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." So, because a door was recently closed for me (the coach being "with someone") I've been looking for the open window. Also, since that door was closed, I've enlisted the help of two friends to help me find the right guy. I'm not looking for "The One," because I'm not sure "The One" is out there for me. I just want a guy to hang out with, go to movies with, have dinner with sometimes.

Now, onto the events of yesterday. As I was taking my daily walk I was stopped at an intersection waiting to cross the street. One of the people who's helping me find a guy stopped in his car, rolled down his window and talked with me for a while. Right before he drove away he said "I'm workin' on it," meaning he's still looking for the guy. So, I continued on my walk and, as I was walking, I was talking to the angels and saints and God and, at one point, I said "Please help me find the open window." In my head, I heard "Duh!" and saw the image of my friend rolling down his car window. I started laughing and thought, "Man, I didn't think the open window thing would be that literal." So, I realized that the answer to that question is to let my friend keep working on it. He'll find the right person for me and I should just stop obsessing over it.

But that's not the end of the stuff that happened. I had said my St. Theresa prayer for five days, like I was supposed to. The belief is that within five days of finishing the five-day prayer thing, St. Theresa will send a rose to let you know your prayers have been answered. Well, yesterday was the fifth day and I hadn't seen a rose yet. I was starting to get depressed about it. Anyway, I had to do an interview at 5 p.m. and I wasn't exactly sure where the house was that I had to go to. I decided to walk a block out of my way on my way to work so I could walk down the street the people lived on and find out exactly where the house was. As I was walking, I was talking to St. Theresa. I told her I knew she had until midnight to send me the sign but, because she knows how much I fret and worry, I wished she wouldn't make me wait. I said that one more time as I turned the corner onto the street I don't normally walk on. Just as I turned the corner, I saw the front plate on a van. It was a picture of a big red rose and it said "Bed of Roses." I smiled and thanked St. Theresa.

However, skeptic that I am, I couldn't totally believe that was my rose (Yeah, you can shake your head at me now.) so I asked for another sign to let me know that rose was my sign. I went to the place I usually buy coffee & water before work. As I walked in the door, I noticed a penny on the floor. I'm sure most of you know that coins are signs from above. Anyway, I didn't pick up the penny because there were too many people around and I would have caused a traffic jam. But, as I was leaving the store, the penny was still there, so I picked it up, knowing it was the sign I'd asked for. How did I know? Well, I've often wondered if all the coins I find are really signs or messages from above. Yesterday, at least six people besides me walked by that penny and didn't pick it up. If it wasn't meant for me, wouldn't someone else have picked it up?

I don't know if any of this connects, or if anyone else believes this the way that I do but, it all made me feel better, so I guess that's the important thing.

My non-existent love-life

Before I get into the serious stuff -- Okay. Semi-serious. -- I have to say this. I vowed that I will never get married again because I'm just not the marrying kind. But I think I'd make an exception for Dan Abrams, the hottest lawyer since Joe Manzarelli. What? You don't know who Joe Manzarelli is? Read Contempt of Court and Actual Malice -- especially Actual Malice if you want the hot stuff.

Anyway, now that the coach is with someone and GSG is not who I thought he was, I have to start looking at other options. That's why I've been surfing the online personals. Just wanted to see who's out there. According to their profiles, there are a lot of guys who say they're looking for a woman like me. So, why can't we manage to find each other? Here's my theory: They lied in their profiles. Simple as that. Okay, maybe that's not it. Maybe I'm not as accessible as I think I am. But geez, it's not as if I don't have a high profile job and no one knows how to get in touch with me. Well, maybe things will get better soon. I have two people I trust keeping their eyes and ears open, looking for acceptable guys for me.

I was watching "The Sound of Music" the other day and the line "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window" really hit me. Ever since I found out the coach is with someone, I've been looking for the open window. It's gotta be there somewhere, right?

Speaking of the Lord ... You know how Dear Abby and other advice columnists suggest single people look for mates in church or church groups? Obviously, they haven't been to my church. No prospects there that I've seen.

Okay. I think I've done enough feeling sorry for myself for one morning. I'm off to do something constructive.

Trash Talking

Our trash is picked up on Thursday, which means we need to put it at the curb on Wednesday because they come anytime between 3 a.m. and 10 a.m. That's 3 A.M., people in my neighborhood! Not 3 P.M. on Wednesday. There is no reason to put your trash out on Wednesday afternoon or, even worse (as my across-the-street neighbors do), Wednesday morning. I've always wondered what these people do with the trash they generate after they put the trash-to-be-picked-up at the curb. Save it for a whole week? Apparently. That's just weird.

As for the ... OK. What's the politically correct term? I know it can't possibly be "garbagemen" anymore. Anyway, the garbagemen piss me off. I realize that after they dump the trash cans into the truck they can't be expected to put them back neatly on the curb where they found them. But, must they throw them back, blocking the entire sidewalk? They're called sidewalks because people walk on them. Every Thursday morning I have to go through an obstacle course of trash cans. It's really annoying. And, I'm sorry, I'm not going to stand every trash can along my route upright. As Freddie Prinze as "Chico" said "That's not my job." I do it sometimes, though, for some people whose trash cans I don't mind touching. But I digress. The other thing that's annoying, and potentially dangerous, about the garbagemen just throwing the trash cans wherever they please is that on one street the curb is a couple of feet above the street. Sometimes, the cans roll into the road. That's going to cause an accident someday, I'm sure.

I don't know ...

... what I do when I'm sleeping but, for the last week or so when I wake up my blankets are either on the floor or in a ball at the end of the bed. Maybe I'm having hot flashes that aren't waking me up.

Anyway, I've been praying a lot lately. Although I go to Mass almost every week, I still consider myself a lapsed Catholic. That's probably because I don't believe in a lot of the church's teachings. However, praying to saints (Saint Theresa and Saint Anne, specifically) has made me feel better. I also do some talking to God. Not actual praying. Just talking. Shell's dad told us this story once about a man who said he never really learned how to pray. Bill, Shell's dad, said "Did you talk to your father?" The man said he did. Bill said "Talk to God the way you would talk to your father." So, that's what I do. I pretty much just ask Him and all the angels and saints to help me get my life in order.

Remember at Christmastime when my little nephew told his mom I'm "da bomb?" Well, apparently, I'm not all that after all. The birthday card I sent him had Bear in the Big Blue House on it but, that's not why I picked that one. I picked it because it was the cutest card with a "4" on it. So, he got it in the mail, opened it and said "It's from Bear in the Big Blue House!" My sister said, "No, that's what the picture is but the card is from Aunt Anne." He said "Oh." But he was excited about the "dollar" that was in it. And, no, I'm not that cheap. It was more than a dollar. But he's four. They're all dollars, no matter what the number on it says.

Work sucks. No explanation. I just needed to say that.

More odds & ends

Ya snooze, ya loose. The coach is "with someone" now. Oh well. I guess it wasn't meant to be. Surprisingly, I'm not that upset about it.

I never read any Harry Potter books. Didn't watch the movies either. But, for the heck of it, I watched the first movie last night. Loved it! Can't wait to see the other 2.

I don't want this to sound snobby but, people who are just discovering blogs ... and don't even have one ... then criticize what I have on mine really bother me. I've been at this for 3 1/2 years and it's not even close to what I want it to be yet. So, until you've at least tried blogging, lay off, okay?

Odds & Ends

I hadn't planned on starting with this one but, since it just happened & it's fresh in my mind here it is:

Some people should not be allowed to drive! I pulled into the post office parking lot (which is very small) at the same time a girl, who obviously didn't look in her rear view mirror, pulled out of a parking space and almost hit me. I was just mailing a card in the mail box outside the post office so I didn't park. I got behind this (I use the term loosely) driver who, aside from not knowing the purpose of a rear view mirror, doesn't read signs. Specifically, she ignored the "no left turn" sign and forced those of us behind her to wait until she made her illegal turn. Ugh!

Next ... The Academy Awards. I know a lot of people didn't like the new stream-lined version of the show. I did. As far as I'm concerned, they could speed it up even more. I realize I'm probably betraying my fellow writers and other artists but, c'mon, does anyone care about anyone beside the best actor/actress winners? Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really like the Oscars anymore. Give the Golden Globes any day.

And I don't care what any of the experts say about the best-dressed people there. I say it was a tie between Beyonce and Drew Barrymore.

When I was a kid, I sometimes wondered if, when I was my parents' age, I would like new music. That's because my parents, pretty much, didn't like any music that came out in the '70s. I'm happy to say that I just bought The Killers CD. Love it. I love Maroon 5, Train and, um, a couple others. But, I still love Elton John.

I'm glad Dan Abrams admitted that the Martha-Stewart-getting-out-of-prison coverage was stupid and would probably end up as an SNL sketch. I agree. So why the hell did I watch it?

Before starting its latest ad campaign, did Capital One say "How can we make David Spade even more annoying?"

Sometimes I really miss John Belushi and Gilda Radner.

As I was watching "Stripes" the other night, I realized that 2 of my 4 favorite Christmas movies have SNL alumni: Christmas Vacation and Scrooged. Wait. Make that 3 out of 4. I forgot Mary Gross was in The Santa Clause. BTW, my fourth favorite is "Miracle on 34th Street." "It's a Wonderful Life" comes in fifth.