Things I learned this week (October 23 – October 29)

This week I learned…

…that apparently my husband can either relate to or, more likely, commiserate with the characters of the new sitcom Whitney.  I’m not really sure how I feel about this because Whitney is nuts.  I’m a lot of things, not all of them flattering, but nuts is not one of them.

…that my obsession with the Real Housewives franchise is waning.  I guess all things, including guilty pleasures, must run their course.  I’m a little sad by this, but I’m sure it won’t be long before something equally trashy comes along and piques my interest.  I only have to look as far as the Bravo network.

…that nothing makes you appreciate a former co-worker like having to deal with some of her former crazy clients.  Boy, do I wish I could tell you all about it.  I can’t.  You know, that whole confidentiality thing.  Attorney’s are sticklers.  Who can blame them?  Getting sued sucks.  But trust me when I tell you – clients are CRAZY.  I miss you, Val.  Seriously.

…that failing to remember to do something and then have it negatively impact your child sucks. I forgot to refill my daughter’s lunch money card.  She didn’t complain – just texted a sad face.  Poor kid.  However, I tried make up for it by arriving to pick her up from school with a PB&J in hand.  She’s a good girl with a forgiving heart.  I earned a smile and an “I love you”.  I will try to do better.

…that I am having a serious case of writer’s ADD.  I’ve started five blog entries (unrelated to Man vs. Beast or Things I learned) and have lost interest in all of the subjects.  Perhaps, lost interest is not really the right way to describe what I’m feeling.  Maybe I am going through a period of self-doubt.  When I started this whole blogging thing, I swore to myself that I was going to write as an exercise and not care if anyone really read it. Now that I see people do read it, I am worried about writing uninteresting things.  No offense, but I think I need to go back to not giving a shit and just write for me.  I seemed to be more productive that way.  Of course, I love writing the Man vs. Beast and Things I learned blogs too.  Oh man.  I’m so…SQUIRREL…

…that the honey badger just don’t give a shit…

…that the Princess Bride is a wonderful movie.  Megan and I watched it for the first time over the weekend.  She was less enthusiastic about it and told me that it was stupid.  I’m going to venture to guess that this just wasn’t her thing.  Not that I’m surprised.  Next, I’m going to make her watch D.A.R.Y.L.  I think she will like that one better.

…that my Western Civilization professor is a Monty Python junkie.  As a means of helping us understand the role of knights in medieval Europe, he had us watch clips from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  I’ll be honest, I’ve never really understood the allure of this genre of comedy, but I love that he has a quirky sense of humor.  This alone will earn him a positive review from me on www.ratemyprofessor.com.

…that as a history major, the History Channel’s Ancient Aliens incites a vast array of emotions in me.  None of them favorable toward the show.  However, there is one thing about it that makes me giggle like a school girl.  Giorgio Tsoukalos and his ever-growing hair.

…last but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought you by my brother, Rob.   He was kind enough to pass along this adorable picture of a chimp giving its kitty a hug.  Enjoy.

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Things I learned this week (August 29 – September 2)

Hello, September.

I thought you’d never get here. 

That means there are only 21 days left until the official start of fall and 114 days until Christmas.  Tick-tock.  Better start working on that list and checking it twice.

Since last Friday, we’ve been allotted a few passing showers – though temperatures have not been any less scorching.  However, in the midst of one random rain shower on Tuesday morning, I believe I smelled a hint of fall.  Or maybe it was just this cold Megan was kind enough to share.  Hard to tell.

This week I learned:

…that I sadly, I jumped the gun last week when I reported there were no new bear attacks.  It seems that on Friday, they found the body of a hiker killed by a grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park.  This makes two for them this year.  You can read more about this attack (here).  I think something hinky is going on with this nation’s bear population.  Perhaps they are plotting a hostile take over.

…that reading page after page of text regarding dawning civilizations (the Egyptians, Phoenicians, Arameans, Philistines, Hebrews, Assyrian, Persians…) right before bed will give you very bizarre dreams.   I also learned in regard to these readings, that the hours I spent glued to A & E’s Mysteries of the Bible and the History Channel’s Engineering an Empire were not in vain, contrary to what my family said.

…that sometimes you just have to say enough is enough.  No matter how much it hurts.

…that hearing my beautiful, sweet-natured eleven year old daughter announce that something, “just sucks, mom” and that she just didn’t “give a crap” will leave me speechless and floundering for a response.  (It should be noted that this was her way of voicing her frustration over something that happened at school and not in response to something I said or did to her.  There would have been a decidedly different outcome if that had been the case.  I don’t do sass.)

…that Dick Cheney still reminds me of the Penguin.

The Penguin/Dick Cheney

…that Mother Nature seems to be having a bad case of PMS.  Tornados, fires, floods, endless scorching temperatures, hurricanes.  I think somebody needs a hug and a big box of chocolates – the really good expensive ones and not that milk chocolate crap.

…that I miss the music of my youth; the music of my parents’ youth.  You know, music that had a soul.  By and large, popular music today sucks – no soul.  Sure it’s catchy – gets stuck in your head – but it has no relevance and therefore, no staying power.  I say this now because I watched today’s biggest artists “perform” their over played, auto-tuned bullshit on the VMAs this weekend.  I’ve come to the conclusion that humanity, as we know it, is doomed.  I blame the hip-hop.  Seriously.

…that the local weather folks have pulled the old switcheroo on us again this week.  When we began the week, we were to be in the 90s by Thursday with a good chance of rain by the weekend.  Now, it looks like we will have to wait until next week for relief from the temperatures and can kiss the promised chance of rain goodbye.  I think the weather folks are spin doctors and liars.  Just like our politicians.

…that sometimes bears get what is coming to them.  You can read about this heroic Alaskan hairdresser who saved her dog by punching a bear in the snout (here).  She is my hero.

…that in all the excitement of the last couple of weeks, I forgot that my favorite sporting event began on Monday.  I’ve missed the first week of competition at the U.S. Open.  I hear Robin Soderling has dropped out.  Maybe Rafael Nadal will retire, as well.  I’d like to see my boyfriend favorite player, Roger Federer, win again.

…that I am suddenly hungry for some pumpkin pie.

…that there is a Mrs. Smith’s pumpkin pie left over from last Thanksgiving still in my freezer.  Wonder if it’s any good?  Hm.

…that I just can’t resist clicking on the headline “Raccoon Found in Naked Man’s Car Near NASCAR Track”.  I understand that it takes all kinds of people to make this little world of ours go ’round, but come on.  Shouldn’t there be some sort of law against this kind of stupid.  Anti-reproduction clause, at the very least?

…last but not least – our week-ending awwww moment:

Caucasian Leopard cubs (AP Photo/dadp/Uwe Meinhold)

Until next time…

Things I learned this week (August 1 – August 5)

What day is it?

It’s Friday.  You know what that means.  Yep, time for me to bestow upon you the new bits of knowledge I acquired this week.  Think you can handle the excitement?  I think you can.  Let’s go!

"Nympheas" Claude Monet circa 1920-1926

I learned this week…

…that my skin isn’t nearly as thick as I thought.  Or maybe it’s just that I’ve had enough of the cyber-anonymity induced nastiness that seems to have inflicted everyone with a keyboard and an internet connection.  I think it’s time to bring back basic human civility.

…that I should never make the mistake of illegally parking in the capital city of Lithuania.

…that Utah governor and presidential hopeful Jon Huntsman plays piano (he used to play keyboards in a band called Wizard back in the day), likes Cherry Garcia ice cream, and is a fan of the Grateful Dead.  I think the good people of Utah have been holding out on us.

…that the idea of Texas Governor Rick Perry becoming a contender for the top office makes me want to vomit and move to Europe.  I was okay with him as long as he stayed in Austin, hidden from view, but to unleash him on the entire country…well, we might as well just lie down in the street and await the coming apocalypse.  Doesn’t make sense, does it?  I can’t explain it myself.

…that I am to be the grandmother of a bouncing baby girl.

…that I seriously regret complaining about the frigid temperatures and ice we were plagued with just six short months ago.  I sincerely apologize to my Karma and beg forgiveness – and relief from the suffocating heat.

Ten day forecast. - ugh.

…that not writing every day doesn’t make me any less of a writer.  Distractions are a good thing.  In moderation, of course.

Central Park Zoo peacock

…that sometimes you just need to get the hell out of dodge.

…that “The cliché “start your novel with action” has a flaw—and it’s a major one: What good is the action if it isn’t grounded in context that’s important to the story or draws you to the main character? It’s much, much better to start your story with tension, like a character conflict or a character who’s not getting what he wants. This gives the reader a reason to feel connected.”  – Brian Klem, Writer’s Digest

…that MTV turned thirty this week.  In its inception, MTV was innovative and just plain cool.  It certainly shaped my exposure to popular music.  Now, thirty years later, is it still as ground breaking?  Well, you will just have to wait for my upcoming blog to find out my thoughts on this.  And I have lots of thoughts on this subject.  Shocking, right?

…that nothing beats my homemade sauce after eating out for a week

….that I am captivated by this face and the sage intelligence I see lurking behind his eyes.  I wonder what is he thinking?  What has he seen in his lifetime behind bars?  If he could talk, what would he tell us about ourselves?

Issouf Sanogo/AFP - Getty Images

Guilty Pleasures

We all have them.  My husband is a lover of bubble gum pop.  I will tell you, there is nothing funnier than listening to him sing all the words to a Lady Gaga tune at the top of his lungs, while driving his very manly truck down the freeway.  It’s one of the reasons I love him. 

I have one too – guilty pleasure, that is.  The Real Housewives of (insert random city here).

Snicker away.  I’m not ashamed.  I’ll tell you why.

I’ve been a vocal opponent of “reality” television’s hostile take over of primetime scheduling for a very long time – since it’s onset in the early part of the last decade.  I would much rather go skinny dipping in a tank of hungry sharks than lower myself to the level of watching grown people eat bugs, sing bad karaoke or strategically sabotage each other all in the name of prize money.  Give me a well written drama or situation comedy or even a news magazine show highlighting a gruesome murder and I’m a happy girl.  Of course, every fall they give me exactly what I want only to yank it away ten episodes in and replace it with some mind-numbingly stupid game show or yet another version of the Bachelor/Bachelorette – because one’s true love can always be found by putting twenty men (or women) in a house together and making them compete for your affection – oh and a rose.  Absolutely, a sure-fire way to find your soul mate. 

The fact that I am now a full-fledged Real Housewives junkie is a testament to the power of a flu-like illness.  About two years ago, I was lying in bed in a fever induced fog, flipping channels.  I blame the fact that I’m not an accomplished napper for the ease in which I was sucked into this franchise.  If I’d been asleep, like any normal person should have been, I would not have stumbled upon a Housewives marathon.  But I wasn’t and I did.  I don’t remember which city it was and it really doesn’t matter.  What I do remember is being completely mesmerized by the train wreck playing out before me on the screen.  It was absolutely breathtaking.  These women’s antics – all unscripted, of course (wink-wink) – were the funniest thing I’d ever witnessed on television.  I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard in my life.  I watched for two days straight and from that moment on I was hooked.

Now, two years later, there seems to been an endless stream of Housewives to choose from, for your viewing pleasure.  Just as one ends, another begins.  Right now, New York and New Jersey – my favorites by far. Why, you ask?  Could it be Ramona S’s crazy eyes and demands for cases of Pinot Grigio?  Teresa G.’s table flipping temper or her flair for um…fashion? Caroline M.’s voice of reason and sage advise?  Jill Z’s proclamations that “that’s just not who I am” (but she really is)? The Countess’ belief that using the word “darling” and dropping the names of European “royalty” we’ve never heard of makes you classy?  Or maybe it’s Dina M’s adorable Grandma Wrinkles?

I can’t decide.  It’s all so fabulous.

These women are like caricatures to me.  I equate them to characters I might find in saucy novel.  Not real housewives by any stretch of the imagination.  But, really, would a television show about real, honest to goodness housewives be any fun?  I think not.  I was a housewife once.  Nothing remotely interesting about it.  Unless you want to chronicle the number of times I was poo’ed on, puked on, or walked around in a sleep deprived trance.  I once put a carton of milk in the cupboard instead of the fridge and didn’t notice for several hours.  Funny?  Perhaps.  Television worthy? No.

Judge me how you will.  I care not of your opinion of my viewing choices.  I’m unashamed at my obsession with the manufactured adventures of these synthetic women.  They make me laugh.  Out loud.  Until I wanna pee myself.  It’s great.  Now, I ask you – can Big Brother do that for you?