2003-07-16

Lis, who gave birth to Dustin Andrew at 3:39am on Sunday (July 13th)!! I’m definitely looking forward to cute baby pics. And while I’m offering up congrats, congrats to Jessamyn and Geoff! Babies, babies, everywhere… Lastly (but certainly not leastly) a big, bad WOOT! to Erin, the triathlete, who surely is being coy when she says that’s a bad picture, because it’s about the most adorable picture I’ve ever seen.

* * * I don’t remember who recommended the Casey Jones series by Katy Munger, but I must take a moment to send out a big, fat “Thank you!” I was reading in bed the other night, and this passage had me howling: The band launched into a stuttering Isley Brothers medley and my dance partner leapt into action with alarming enthusiasm. I watched, open-mouthed, as Harry Ingram popped into the air, clicked his heels together and swept both arms over his head as if he were a tree being buffeted about by the wind. It was as if his secret ambitions to be a jazz dancer exploded in one terrifying moment on the dance floor. The crowd cleared away as Ingram bowed, twirled, bent and pirouetted his way into our collective memories. I was astonished that such a plump, soft man could sustain the pace – and somewhat dismayed at having to stand there, lamely bouncing my knees and trying to look cool, as my lawyer companion performed an interpretive dance that belonged in a Jules Feiffer cartoon, not on a dance floor in Raleigh, North Carolina. (copyright Katy Munger) There was an even funnier scene further in the book, but I don’t want to ruin it for anyone who hasn’t read it yet. I’m currently working my way from left to right across the middle shelf of my bookcase – it ends up being fairly random, because I don’t keep my to-be-read books in any particular order – so once I finished Money to Burn, I picked up the next book. What are the chances that I would finish reading a book wherein the main character is named Casey Jones, and then pick up a book wherein the main character is named Sam Jones? And further, what are the chances that the authors of the two books I read back-to-back would be co-founders of the web site Tart City? It’s a small, small world, I tells ya. I bought the new Janet Evanovich yesterday while I was in Target, but after having just read two Zany Chick mystery novels back-to-back, I decided I needed to quickly read something else to cleanse the palate, so to speak. I picked up Accidental Courage by Joe Kita, which Fred recently read and liked a lot. Joe Kita’s a writer for Men’s Health Magazine, which is Fred’s favorite magazine (and I even like it, I’ll admit. It’s got a bit of the Playboy tone, only without the nekkid chicks, and that can only be a good thing). If Zany Chick books fall into the Chick Lit category, I’d put Accidental Courage firmly into the Dick Lit category. Don’t get me wrong, there were parts of the book that were fairly enjoyable, but god save me from middle-aged men who whine about how they’re not really living their lives. Heh. That makes it sound like I hated the book, doesn’t it? I didn’t, really. Of course, the best part is that I’ve finished it, so I can start To the Nines. Whee! * * * We’ve been watching The Sopranos – I think I’ve mentioned that – and we’re about a third of the way through Season Two. Last night or the night before, we saw the episode wherein Meadow had a party at Livia‘s house, and the house got pretty well trashed. When Tony showed up to take Meadow home and she started with the attitude, I turned to Fred and said “That is a child who does not fear her parents nearly enough.” When Tony and Carmela (Fred calls her Caramello. Heh.) tried to lay down the law the next morning, I said “Make her clean the house! Make her scrub the entire house!” What was her punishment? They took away her Discover card for three weeks. Puh. Lease. I don’t know about you, but if I’d thrown a party in my grandmother’s deserted house, resulting in vomit, urine, and garbage everywhere, I would have been cowering before my parents with my hands over my heads, and praying that they’d let me live. They’d have taken away my car, grounded me for two weeks, and made me scrub that house on my knees TWICE, at the very LEAST. Take away the Discover Card for three weeks. Jeezus. Who the fuck uses a Discover Card, anyway? We sure do love that Paulie Walnuts – he always cracks us up. We’re pretty partial to Silvio, too. * * * Almost two years ago, I bought the best welcome mat ever (you can see it here). Recently, I’ve noticed that it’s gotten awfully dirty and moldy, and just downright disgusting. I guess the humidity (not the heat!) finally did it in. I tried cleaning it, but it was too far gone. See what happens when you ignore the welcome mat for too long? So yesterday, during a trip to Target, I purchased a new welcome mat. This one’s made to last (or so I hope), and is made of rubber and that stiff bristle-y stuff. When I got home I dropped the mat on the table and went off to eat lunch. Half an hour later, I wandered back into the kitchen to see Miz Poo rolling around on the mat, rubbing her face on it, and purring to beat the band. After rolling around, purring, and rolling around some more, she settled down for a bath and a nap. (Damn she reminds me of Bucky in that picture for some reason) * * * Can this possibly be comfortable? ]]>