Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Test Post New Editor
Hello all, I've made the leap to "custom domain" with Blogger. I'm also trying out the new editor.
Large font in Georgia. Verdanna in the smallest. Trebuchet going normal. A bullet list:
Now I'll just publish this thing and see how it works! |
Test Post
| Test Post for Custom Domain hosting. Image test below.....  Abbey, Goth Chick Crime Scene Analyst Supreme |
Friday, March 26, 2010
Dinner Guest
 Seems like Bob has invited a dinner guest. Looks like his old boarding school buddy "Uni". In school they were roommates and had each other's backs. Being the only unicorn and the only camel in a rough and tumble boys academy can be tough. I bet they used to spend all their spare cash on alfalfa fluffies. I can just see them sneaking ciggies out behind the stables. Uni's looking pretty spiffed up today though! He's in PR for a theme park company. Smooth, ethereal, that whole species has an aura of truthful wholesomeness. I sure hope Bob's done some cooking though. It's Friday night, there's not anything left in the pantry but peanut butter and bread. Do unicorns eat peanut butter? Maybe they're allergic. This pic was taken from 'Lovely Listing', the web site with the worst real estate listing pics you will every see. It's a nice chuckle. It will also make you grateful for your humble abode in a hurry! |
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Now that I have your attention. . . .
 Yes, I am wearing a cat suit and a red wig. It was the only way to get Love Monkey's attention. He spends his life working, taking care on an iris plantation, caring for 10 cats, a dog, and 3 little old ladies. Since I didn't want to go the "little old lady" route, the cat costume was the only way. The outfit is tight and constricting but the claws are cool. This fabulous pic is from "Glamourpuss: The Enchanting World of Kitty Wigs" from Amazon.Com It's written and photographed by the folks who own a company that makes wigs for felines. The noise, that you can't hear, today is Falco's Greatest Hits. He's rapping and wailing away in a Germanic language with English spattered in. The beat is encouraging on a "Trashed out Thursday". However I feel like I need to remove my earphones and swab out my ears. The spittle flying into the microphones on those recording sessions must have been phenomenal. Bob topped off the MP3 player with Falco and more 80's remixes. He's trying to bop me through to the weekend. The insomnia has hit world record standings now. I have no idea what it feels like to sleep like a normal person anymore. I'll be here tonight until 8 p.m. making up time. I just have to get through tomorrow and I have a chance to rest up. I'm going to a retreat this Saturday with one of my favorite teachers Jennifer Louden. It's Saturday March 27th in Columbia MD. The day will be lots of fun little things to recharge, refresh, and refocus. Of course on a Saturday when I want to sleep in, I will have to find a way to drag my keester to Columbia by 9 a.m. Wish me luck. OMBH, sorry about the tooth ache. If you need a root canal, get one ASAP! The pain stops as soon as they open up the infected tooth. If you let the infection build it will fire up the major nerve in that quadrant of your mouth. Then you will feel like your head is going to fall off. Then you will feel like you want to hack your head off. No fun, for sure! Hope you start feeling better quickly! I've only screamed the F bomb at one medical professional and that was a dentist. He was a terrible dentist. Bob left a pile of camel pellets and some wee behind the desk in his office because he was mad about how badly the dentist hurt me. I'll be his "Orange Glo" didn't get that camel wee smell out. :) I agree the "Bloke" has gotten so annoying you want to smack him to bring him around. Before he was a bit confused and muddle headed, now he acts like everyone of his ideas is ground breaking and absolutely correct. He's starting to believe his own press. My mom used to say he'd gotten to the point where "he'd smelled his own pee". Mom used that phrase to refer to any male animal that was getting over impressed with himself. |
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
All es klar, Herr Kommissar?
 You can't hear the unearthly noise crashing through my head. But I'll describe it anyway. It's Falco wailing out in a remix of Der Kommissar. Bob the funky camel loaded an entire album on 80's re-remixes into my MP3 player. I am unsuccessfully trying to revive myself old school style by blasting the tunes, drinking caffeinated soda pop, and eating a pack of Lance crackers. Some times the old school computer geek things are the best. Today they aren't working. I had a nasty run in with Melatonin last night. Apparently doctors are recommending this stuff as a "natural" and "safe" way to help with insomnia. I took my doctor's recommendation and had a little "Mel". All this in contradiction to my steadfast postulate: "Cyanide is natural too." I woke up with a hangover like I haven't had since the last time I had something to celebrate. (I believe the Bee Gees were in their second heyday about then.) If I'm going to suffer like a party girl, I want the fun too! Sure Bob the Camel puts dance music on my MP3 player. He even makes "ants on a log" for snacks on the weekend. Now that spring has sprung and the grass is starting to green up, Bob has been outside eating cute patterns into the lawn. He tries. For a camel, he goes above and beyond. Last week he even edited an episode of Top Gear to take out "The Bloke". I rather enjoyed watching Jeremy Clarkson as a 'fireman' on a train. I really enjoyed seeing Richard Hammond all leathered up and flying down the highway on a Vincent Black Shadow.  Black leather, motor bike, dum dee dummmmmmmmm.............. Where was I? Oh yeah, I was talking about how good Bob is to me. He's a sweetie! Love Monkey has purchased a motor bike but I won't get to see it for a while. This week's big distraction has been the game "Vampireville" from Big Fish Games.  At first the game looks like a run of the mill hidden object game. Then the talking ghost dog shows up. The game actually has funny characters that give you a smile. It also has a good storyline. The narrator looks like Keanu Reeves and the animation is good. (Notice the permanent zit on Keanu's chin.) Another way that Vampireville is different is that you have to move objects around in the rooms to find things. You have to click on things willy nilly to see what will slide around or open up. Luckily the hints are unlimited and run on a "recharge" timer. Sometimes I could not figure out what they wanted me to click on so I'd hint my way through. Whether this is a must-buy I wouldn't say because everybody has a different sense of humor. I would say that the free one hour trial is worth a spin.  Another bright spot in the week as been Angie Fox's "Accidental Demon Slayer". A coven of senior citizen biker witches, a talking fox terrier, a beautiful Greek hunk that transforms into a griffin, and a dayrunner addicted pre-K teacher who finds out she's a born demon hunter. What else could you toss in? The book is an adventure packed story stuffed with humor. I gobbled it down in 24 hours and went back for book 2 in the series. The Bangles are bopping their remixed version of "Walk Like An Egyptian" so I'm going to scat now. Remember two of the greatest pharaohs of ancient Egypt died from dental abscesses. So brush and floss! |
Monday, March 22, 2010
Reach Out Touch Strings!
 The MP3 player has just served up a string quartet version of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus". Yes such a thing exists, complete with breath sounds in the middle just like the original. In fact there is an entire album full of Depeche Mode Goes String on my MP3 player. I can't say that Bob doesn't have a sense of humor! I thought the Baroque renditions of AC/DC were out there. This goes over the line and out into the back yard. I like it. Blends in with the Otmar Liebert and Jesse Cook on the player. In searching for the pic of Dave Gahan (Hunky lead singer for Depeche Mode), I found an article that he had been treated for gastrointeritus and a malignant bladder tumor. Reports from the DM press manager say Dave should make a full recovery and return to performing with the band for a June 8th concert. Please keep Dave in your thoughts, good wishes, and/or prayers. Over the weekend I registered for a crafty getaway retreat coming up in August. Many of the classes look similar to what I've had before but they look like a fun way to relax. I'm looking forward to getting away for a few days. I realized that I haven't spent a night away from home since I bought my house 3 years ago. It looks like there is going to be a group "High Tea" at a bed and breakfast. Also looks like we'll be near a slot machine parlor. There is also a "crafty room" that is open until midnight for attendees. Looks like I will be enjoying some play time around other kiddies who like the same toys. I'm really looking forward to it. I might even get to meet OMBH! That would be a super double cherry on the top! I've been on the warpath against my multi-syllable syndrome again. The body chemistry is all honked up. I will be trying another doc yet again. Everything is so out of whack that I either don't sleep at all or don't wake up for 14 hours. La-di-dah-fun-oh-fun. Went bonkers with Liberty of London stuff from Target. I even ordered a new bedroom linens set. It's like a big trip down memory lane into the 1960's. I think Target wants consumers to feel it's all Hep and Now but it feels like 1968 all over again. :) Groovy man. Groovy. |
Friday, March 12, 2010
The B**chfest That Is Bengies
 Bengies Drive-In used to be one of the great pleasures in my summertime. I could enjoy an evening drive over to Essex and meander into the drive-in to watch the sunset and nosh on some old fashioned movie theater popcorn. After the smooth sounds of the Platters singing "It's Twilight Time" faded away I could sit in my car and let the stereo bathe me in surround sound movie magic. On good nights, when I could keep my eyes open, I could see three films from the comfort of my buggy. (Let's face it most of my cars have been great when they were parked. And they all had kickin' sound systems.) Sure Bengies handed out a 4 page pamphlet with a one page menu and a 3 page list of rules. But the rules seemed perfectly reasonable. They included things like "Wear shoes", "No video taping", and "No booze". The evening's entertainment always opened with the National Anthem, a clip about going to religous services, and an invitation to follow-the-rules-or-leave. This was tailed by a sad video about drive-ins going extinct. That was followed up with a reminder that concessions was what was keeping Bengies open and "snuck in food" would not be tolerated. I was fine with buying my popcorn and soda pop from the drive-in. They even allowed me to bring my own vittals if I bought an "outside food permit" for 7 bucks. Reasonable. Very reasonable. We all know that popcorn is where movies make their money. I'm willing to shell out 15$ in concessions and 8$ in admission. It's very reasonable. I was gung ho to keep Bengies open. Last year a conveinence store was built next to the drive-in. The lights from the overhang around the gasoline pumps shone on the screen. Bengie's had a clause in the land use permit for the store that it had to "NOT" interfere with the screen. Legal hashing and public thrashing ensued. Last spring Bengies delayed its opening because of "light pollution". When they did open the conveinence store turned part of its lights off at show time. Despite the "light" a string of blockbuster movies made Bengies's popular again and the friendly box office list of rules became something else. Seeing that some folks came solo and sat outside with others and on some busy nights the drive-in filled up the owner of the drive-in jumped into overdrive and announced that on "busy" nights no solo patrons would be allowed. The owner ranted that it "wasn't fair" for solos to come and sit out on the grass with others because it kept other patrons out. It sounded more like, "I'm missing money so you losers beat it!" Admission is paid per person. A car with 1 person pays one admission. The prospect of 4 adults paying admission and chomping down 4 adult portions on popcorn and soda is vastly more profitable. However, instead of instituting a "per car" minimum admission, the owner outright banned solos. But not really banned them. A solo driver could come to the drive-in and wait in line for 30 minutes to get up to the gate and then see if they would be allowed in that night. "Busy" was to be determined on the fly. So it was perfectly fine for me to come in and spend my money in the spring before schools were our or for a bum movie when nobody else was attending. However if something good was playing I could drive 20 miles one way, sit in the admissions line for 20 minutes and Bengies would let me know if I was profitable enough to get in that night. I tried to appeal to the drive-in owner's association of America and I didn't get so much as a reply. The owner of this drive-in is on the board. This year the owner is again suing the city, city counsel, and the conveinece store owner over "light pollution". He already knows that they are not going to tear the store down. He already knows that if he asks nicely the store will turn its lights down during showtime. He already knows that he can raise a canvas barrier and blank out the light. Instead of looking like a wronged but rational adult he is still putting up "screaming" billboards and ranting online via his website and face book. (One face book entry said they liked it better when his father ran the business because he raved less.) Each time I look at the website to see when opening weekend is, there is something else he's railing about on the website. The rant against one local paper has been up for over a year. Instead of soldiering on in good grace, Bengie's as a business rants and raves like a slathering lunatic. I was just contemplating that my little rant here may get me banned for life, but then again since I attend solo I already am. |
NCIS
OR NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigation Services For the better part of the last week I've been asleep. If I've been awake it seems that NCIS was on television. It didn't matter the time or the network. NCIS was one somewhere at all times. I suspect it may have been holding the world back from absolute chaos. (NCIS and Thomas's Bagels.) Until a few weeks ago I'd never heard of or seen NCIS. Now, thanks to being semi-comatose in front of the TV for hours, I am well versed in its characters. First off there is Abbey. She is sweet, sunny, bubbly, loving, steam punk, Goth Chick extraordinaire with an addiction to fictional hyper caffeinated soda pop "Caf Pow!" Abbey, Goth Chick Crime Scene Analyst Supreme Amid feverish waking and sleeping. I noticed a man on the screen that looked vaguely familiar. His voice seemed like something out of my dreams. Then I heard someone say "Ducky I wonder what you looked like when you were younger." The familiar voice answered "Oh a bit like Illya Kuryakin." It struck me like a plank. Ducky Mallard, NCIS ME was indeed the same man who had played super cool, uber illusive spy Illya Kuryakin on "Man from Uncle".  From Hep Cat International Spy to Medical Examiner? "Man From Uncle" was must-see family viewing back in my dark childhood days when families had only one television and cable had not been invented. "Man from Uncle", "Wild, Wild, West", "Star Trek", and "It Takes A Thief" were rare moments when I got face time with dad. Those shows are ingrained in my memory like secrets committed to microfilm and hidden in a belly dancer's naval. Time shaken the sand out of its shoe and Ilya Kuryakin was dissecting genitaless plastic corpses and keeping me company through long nights while I languished in my antique bed. Sometime during my adventures with antibiotics I managed to shoot off an email to my real estate agent on how I would go about purchasing the mysterious house in my post a few days ago. I have even oogled a weekend rubber stamp convention/workshop taking place next summer only 5 miles from the fabled locale of childhood. Part of me wants to call the hosting stamp store and ask if they know anyone from that neighborhood. Would it be too much of a chance to find out if I could stop by the house and have a look around the yard? I don't want to appear stalkerish or unhinged. I just want to convince myself that part of my life was real. I can't be the only one in the world who wants to see where they used to live. It's a rather odd feeling for me. Any other place I've lived I've driven away while flipping the place the bird in the rear view mirror. I don't even attend high school reunions. I fought like hell to get out of that sump hole and I certainly don't want to go back and discuss old hell-hole times. Between bouts of television I did manage to play a bit. I downloaded "Insider Tales:Vanished Rome" from Shockwave. It's made my "short list" of recommended games. The settings are tranquil, the background sounds include cats meowing and streams burbling, the artwork is good, and there is no blood or gore. The hidden objects are difficult to find because they are hidden well. The artwork is not minuscule or pixillated. In some scenes birds hop about and cats blink and wiggle their ears at you. Very relaxing. I'm a nut for hidden object games. I've joined Shockwave for the year and I belong to the "Big Fish Game Club". Shockwave is good because once you join you can download and play any game without paying extra. Their selection of hidden object games is less then "Big Fish". So I move back and forth between the two providers to keep a steady supply of goodies. With Shockwave if I download a game and hate it, there is nothing lost. I'll download games from them that I might not feel like paying 7 bucks for at "Big Fish". |
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Gratuitous
 Gratuitous Bloke Who Must Not Be Named pic for OMBH Ok I want to ask somebody why this guy looks more and more like my alcholic Uncle H every time I see him? The squint and smile are starting to be terrifying. Seriously! Meanwhile, turn your face from the "terror" and plan on some summer fun! "We'll Always Have Paris Summer Retreat" starts registration next week. The web site for the even is up. Go over and take a gander at the available classes! I'm having trouble deciding! |
The Idea of Home
 When is a house a home? When is home a house? "Home is where the heart is." Home. Where is home? I used to say home was where I parked my car. Then I bought my house and parked in my own driveway. I could set the water heater as warm as I wanted. I could use the dishwasher. I could paint the living room any color I wanted. I could change the light fixtures. I could claim the mortgage interest tax deduction. Then I caught the creeping crud bug. I spent hours and hours sleeping. I spent hours and hours dreaming. I dreamt about a place I lived as a little girl. In dreams more real than reality, I walked through rooms I hadn't seen in years. In a moments work, I was back where I had wanted to stay so many years ago. The crud subsided and I worked the weekend. Lots of waiting time. Lots of time online to check that my mortgage company paid my property taxes. Time to try an address in the property tax registry in a far away state. Time to find out that the house in my dreams is still owned by the family that bought it from my mother. I followed a google maps link for a satellite view. One of the trees my father and I had planted is now full grown. One is gone. Google maps had a street view too. That's the current pic of the house now. The cut down the big oak tree in the front yard. I loved that tree. It was the only shade in the yard then. I spent hours playing under it. Somebody put a porch all the way across the front of the house. The roof blocks the afternoon sun from the living room. But the steep driveway and slanting lawn are still the same. I was 9 years when I tried to mow that lawn with a Black and Decker electric lawnmower. The extension cord wasn't long enough to reach all the way down to the road. We had a riding mower but I wasn't allowed to drive it. My father was no longer mowing the lawn because he had abandoned my mother and I. The day after my lawn moving adventure, while I was at school and mom was at work, somebody came and mowed the last three lines of lawn. I look at the photo of the missing tree, the new porch, the new fence around the back yard, and I want to return. I know that if I were to walk up to that remodeled front door my young mother and father would not be in the living room beyond. I know the blond haired little girl I used to see in the mirror would not be in the basement. The goldfish bowl would not be in the bedroom. The dog run would not be in the back yard. The world I remember can not be there. But it makes no difference. I want to get in the Cadillac and drive the 516.06 miles. I'll even wager I can make it in less than the 8 hours and 31 minutes mapquest says it will take. I want to drive up in that driveway and get out and walk up and touch the bricks in the wall. I want to prove to myself my memory is not just of a dream. I want to remind myself that there really was a time when I had a mother and a father. There was a time when I was safe. There was a time when I went to dance lessons and girl scouts. There was a time when my picture was on the mantelpiece and I was a beloved child in a family. There really was a time when I was fine just the way I was. How long ago it seems now. Long ago. I want more than to go to that house. I want to buy it. I want to own it. I want to walk right in and sit down in the middle of the floor and never leave again until I get ready. I want to move my mahogany bed into the big room at the top of the stairs. I want to put the red wall phone up in the basement. I want to tie a yellow ribbon around that oak tree in the back yard. I want to remember without fear, that life was once good. I want it to be good again. Here's a Rhapsody Playlist on the theme of Home Home: 1. Half Acre - Hem 2. Home Again - Hem 3. Sunny Came Home - Shawn Colvin 4. I Feel Loved (Danny Tenaglia's Labor Of Love Edit) - Depeche Mode |