Naptiger

AAAAaaarrrr, Meowy.

2010-09-24T11:56:00.002-04:00

Pirate Kitten.

'Nuf said.

You can bet yo last money...

2010-08-03T18:37:00.004-04:00

Next week, I'm going to some shows. YAY! Deer Creek and Alpine Valley, here I come! This summer has been bittersweet, but I am looking forward to seeing it off with a bang. I just wanted to make a lil post about something I know has been bothering everybody for a while, now.

Why is it that in today's "urban" dancing movies, no one wants to just FOCUS ON THE DANCING. I don't mean that it isn't your protagonists' all-consuming passion, because it is. They just gotta dance, man. I mean the damn cinematography is friggin' annoying. It's all from above/from the feet/closeup of sweaty brow/from behind/closeup of shoes/closeup of boobies/from the front/and final pose. I mean, just leave the camera in front of the dance crew, let them dance, and then move it when they're done. I watched You Got Served twice, and was not sure who was doing the serving because the camera moved around so much. At least the director of Honey let you watch Jessica Alba fake-teach other people who actually DID some dancing. They should take a cue from the cheerleading movies. In Bring It On, they don't move the camera around during the cheerleading finals. All you see is their sweet, sweet art.

All this is precipitated by the fact that I am set to go see Step Up 3D this Friday afternoon.

I hope it does not disappoint. And if you want to know more about these type of fly movies, and study the link between old (Electric Boogaloo; aforementioned) and the new, please follow this link : nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2009/09/the_glo...
I will say, I don't fully support the inclusion of such movies as "Lambada" in the mix, purely because latin dance and what I consider Urban Dance are not the same, but it's a nice list, otherwise.

Anyway, I'll throw down some true OSD analysis in the next couple of weeks, but for the meantime, I'll borrow a phrase from the Master of Urban Dancers, himself, Mr. Don Cornelius.

You can bet your last money, baby, it's all gonna be a stone gas.

Whither art thou, dear Naptizzle?

2010-06-11T11:13:00.003-04:00

My sweet, wonderful mom died on April 8th. So I haven't been feeling blog-tastic for a while. I know you were terribly worried about why I wasn't posting, but no worries. Hard times are the stuff of life. I hope to alleviate some of that, at least for myself, by posting stupid crap.

So, what have I been up to? I got a blu-ray player and a 32" flat screen. And a new car, and a new apartment, and a new-old cat (Mom's Treasure Paws). She is kyoot, of course. I shall post a picture so you can get the idea.

She is exceedingly wee. A total of 6 lbs at 2 years of age, so the tininess implied in this picture is not that far off the mark. My homestyle pirate likes to call her "Cow-cow Chickenhead" because of her white-with-black-spottedness. Don't ask, I don't know where he gets this stuff. Her name is Mandy (Amanda if you're nasty) but I like to call her Manders. Or Mandini, or Mrs. Manderson. Or Miss Thang. She considers the stroking of her fur grounds for finger-licking goodness. She will thoroughly lick your fingertips if you let her. She will also flee from a rapidly whirling ceiling fan, as I just learned in my new apartment.

So, now the catz outnumber the humans in my home. That was their plan all along, I assure you. Everyone gets along, so that's a bonus, but nevertheless, don't let them fool you with that feet-in-the-air innocent thing they do. They are of the opinion that they are the boss of you. And this Mandini is the queen of all these fools. She has my poor Clyde (orangestuff) completely in love and retarded (follows her EVERYWHERE) and she personally grooms Jasputin to woo him into thinking she's his servant, which she is not, as she will occupy his warm spot immediately on his departure.

AAH precious kitties. I love your soft bodies, but love not your nighttime peeping. And you should start WORKING to pay for all this litter and kibble I'm shelling out for. Wouldn't you pay Manders to shill something for you? Permakitten for hire! She'll up the value of any product! Consider the orange and the black and grey fluffy medium and large versions, as well!

Naptiger out!

Jay Leno is a Giant Tool.

2010-01-23T11:20:00.005-05:00

I just had to say, I will miss Conan for the next few months, and I think he was done wrong in the extreme. Leno has been supremely unfunny for time out of mind, and way less personable, too. I have literally never been amused by him. On the other hand, Conan makes me laugh regularly. So I give props to O'Brien for standing up for himself, and I look forward to seeing him again wherever he lands, unless it's on cable, cause homey can't afford that. I also propose a boycott of NBC. They don't have anything good, anyway. Except the Office and I can watch that online. So there, beeotches.

I saw a tear in his eye last night as I watched him say goodbye to his fans and the Tonight Show. And then, to my delight, I watched Conan O'Brien get on stage and play lead guitar for a performance of Free Bird with Will Farrell on the mike and Billy Gibbons, of aforementioned ZZ Top fame, on backup, along with Beck and ~~Robert Randolph~~; oops! Ben Harper (I don't give a crap about either of those guys, so that explains my lack of knowledge, but thanks for the tip, dude) and some other guy I don't know the name of. Fly on, free Conan. I'll miss ya. And thanks for bringing a ZZ Top member into your send off. They don't get out much.

ZZ Totally Awesome.

2010-01-12T18:08:00.005-05:00

I was watching this CRAP movie the other day. I watch a lot of those (you have to sift through the chaff, right?) but this one pissed me off because it was billed as the next Office Space, which was a friggin cool movie with a kick ass soundtrack which I still listen to on the tapedeck in my tricked out 1997 station wagon. (If you haven't heard "Down for Whatever" by Ice Cube, you are missing out. It was my ringtone for like 3 years, until I switched it to Mary Jane by Rick James, and you can't really blame me for that, because that's one of the best songs ever.) ANYWAY, I was watching this crapfest, name of "Extract," which was directed by Office Space's Mike Judge, but which I won't go into explaining because that's not what this post is about, and they busted out a song that reminded me that I have to testify whenever I can. Testify about what, you ask? ZZ Top, man. That's right. I LOVE ZZ TOP. I have my whole life. I wanted the pumps/ruffly socks combo in that Legs video so bad I could taste it. I loved their beards, because as I might have mentioned before, I'm a beard lover. That biz just does it for me. That's why my boyfriend is a Hagrid/Grizzly Adams/Biker type. I love that stuff. Also, I love their whole Texas Blues sound, and their unabashed worship of the ladies. I saw them years ago performing in Savannah, Georgia, and they had Vegas showgirls up there on stage in addition to their fuzzy carpeted guitars. Now, if you are a person who is only acquainted with ZZ Top from early MTV, you may chiefly associate them with such tongue-in-cheek tunes as "Velcro Fly", "Tube Snake Boogie", or "Sleeping Bag." Maybe a hot song like "TV Dinners" off the Eliminator album. I don't even hate those, because I am a die hard fan, but you'd be really doing yourself a disservice if you didn't go listen to their best album, and perhaps one of the BEST ALBUMS EVER, Tres Hombres. It has songs like "Jesus Just Left Chicago" (SOOO GOOD) and "La Grange" (OMG) and "Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers" which I would get on my license plate if it would fit. These are some of the best flipping songs I've EVER HEARD. It appeals to my love of the outlaw, I guess. But the best song ever by them isn't on Tres Hombres, it's on the (arguably, because when I think about it, it might be a tie) second best album by the Boys, Deguello. This album has songs like "I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide" (YES!) and "Cheap Sunglasses" (Thrifty!). It is the song I hope to play at my wedding someday. It is "I Thank You," a song which, admittedly, was first recorded by David Porter and Isaac Hayes (RIP) but was made my favorite by ZZ.
So, there's this scene in the crappy movie where Mila Kunis (who my BF has an annoying crush on, dammit) is driving her car and parking it outside a building, and they bust out I Thank You. There's no reason for them to play this song right there, soundtrack-wise, it is just a case of somebody who loves it as much as I thinking that they should put it somewhere in this otherwise stupid and dissapointing film. It's too much song for such a mundane scene.
I have posted a video below of Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, and Frank Beard (the only one without a beard, ironically, but he's on drums here, so you don't really see him) performing the aforementioned masterpiece, complete with spangled jackets, for you to enjoy. Feel the power of the Outlaw, my friends. And rock out.

My kitten is growed up and feisty.

2010-01-08T16:16:00.005-05:00

I got this kyoot ass kitten a few months back. He was tiny, and orange, and fuzzy. He purred and curled up under your chin. He made tiny cat biscuits on your chest. He was the softest, warmest piece o' kittyflesh ever. He had an excruciatingly endearing face, with a pink nose and perky ears. His stripy legs and body showed the most exquisite marks in their downy fur covering. He peeped quietly when awake, and slept hard when he was sleepy. He played with stuff, but in a cute, baby-on-a-blanket sort of way.

Fast forward about 6 months. My kitten is HUGE. He is about as big as a full size cat, but I know he has a way to go, so I'm afraid he'll be as big as a dog when it's all over. That's not a big deal (big kittehs rock) but what is is the fact that while he is still a very attractive cat, he is possibly the most criminal kitten I have ever known. He thinks he's somebody, you know? He will find any small piece of plastic packaging, candy wrapper, receipt, barrette, paper clip, jewelry, check from somebody's dad in the mail, or other item that is somewhat small, and play with it. Not just play, but make irritating noises while playing, and then place underneath or behind furniture or closed doors where you will NOT find it. He also loves feet. Not just feet resting on the floor, but feet SLEEPING. And not just feet moving tantalizingly under the covers, but feet minding their own business. This kitten also has taken to spending time lying in wait to jump onto the toilet when you get up so that he can watch "stuff" go around and then drink from the bowl (EW.) This kitten enjoys sinking his claws into leather computer chairs that cost a pretty penny and ripping the upholstery with abandon. Why is this criminal, you ask? Is this not the behavior, more or less, of any good, red-blooded baby cat? Well, what's criminal is that he is old enough and has a stern enough Daddy that he is COMPLETELY AWARE of what bad kitties do and what will earn him a dousing with the squirt bottle and/or good whupping, but rather than avoiding these actions as a result of effective training tactics, he WAITS until we are sleeping/out of the house and proceeds to jump on countertops, drink from sinks, crawl on tables, remove things therefrom, and then destroy/hide them. That is a bad and diabolical boy. And also, he has a disturbingly large and bulbous ball sack. Just sayin'. It's rude, man. I haven't the time or money to get it removed right now, but boy I am hoping he is taken down a few considerable pegs when I do, because at this rate, he is going to destroy everything I own in short order, including my poor lacerated toes.

But, he does continue to make biscuits in the bedclothes, purr contentedly when napping, and be cute as the dickens, so I guess he's got that going for him. And when he crawls up on my boyfriend's chest and rubs his lil' pink nose in Brian's beard, it is disgustingly cute. So I'll let him live. Dunno about Brian. He has a short fuse for ill-behaved pets, but I did hear him say that he loved him in the other room a while back when he thought I wasn't listening.

So just a warning. Kittens grow. And get crazy. I think that happens with kids, too, but I don't have any. And, I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to cut their testes off.

MIA = Sad but getting better.

2009-12-29T20:26:00.002-05:00

Sorry I've been out of action for a while; I had some family tragedy and then the holidays compounded the stress, and while I've watched some movies in the interim, I haven't been able to muster the same joi de vivre that renders me unable to keep from typing up a veritable storm of commentary on movies that I truly enjoy. Things are looking up, and I hope to move into the new year with more to share and less to be utterly depressed about. Bear with me, reader, and I promise to inundate you with my wordy testimonials to the pop culture of my childhood that will have you mildly amused at best.

Here's to new beginnings, and THANK GOD X-mas is over,

Naptiger

Epiphanic Street Dancing = Pure Unadulterated Bliss

2009-10-31T14:57:00.010-04:00

Holy cow, guys. I normally don't post so often, but in light of the fact that my last was mostly just a big whine-fest about my current workload, I figured I owed you something good. Also, I'm bursting with things to say about this movie I watched last night. Now, I have seen this movie probably 30 or more times, and listened to its soundtrack, and practiced the dance moves therein, but I just watched it again for the first time since I had this blog on which to wax eloquent, so I had to throw down.

Dude. Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo (1984). That biz is hands down a frikkin' laugh riot from start to finish. Movies simply aren't this entertaining by a long shot anymore. I mean, the festival of optical excitement alone, what with costuming and break dancing and break dancing with special effects, is some top notch stuff. Then you have your actors, and the plot, and bitter social commentary, and this movie becomes the stuff of legend. I tell you they could re-release Breakin 2: E.B. in its original format, completely unedited, and it would be an instant smash hit. I am not kidding. Especially since, in spite of all possible taste, kids today are actually resurrecting the fashions (some of them, not all, thank goodness) that are featured in the film. Well, you might wonder why I am doing the sequel and not Breakin' itself. I'll just say that it took the second movie for them to distill the essence of perfection from the material that Breakin' 2: E.B. represents. Anyway, if you haven't seen it, it goes like this: Ozone and Turbo (played by Adolfo "Shabba Doo" Quinones and Michael "Boogaloo Shrimp" Chambers, which are two of the best names EVER) are street dancers who live together and work at a community center in a sort of East L.A-ish neighborhood. They dance in a team with Kelly, or "Special K," who is a rich white girl who has been classically trained but loves to break dance, and joined them in Breakin', which tells the story of how they met. Breakin' 2: E.B. opens with the two boys enjoying their volunteer work, but worried that the community center won't be able to raise funds to keep open, and Kelly finding it tough to get inspired by hoofing it in the chorus line as a professional dancer. She heads down to the slums to meet up with her homies and they introduce her to their neighborhood pals, at which point they all DANCE on over to the community center; Miracles, and she gets to see all the super stuff they are doing there to keep kids off the streets and teach them how to do giant synchronized dance numbers involving popping and locking. Miracles is a wonderful place; painted with vibrant graffiti from floor to ceiling, inside and out, with hundreds of creative youths practicing dance moves, acting, miming, gymnastics, boxing, and looking cool. Kelly decides while she's in between jobs, she'd like to help out, and becomes aware of their troubles with money. Meantime, a big developer decides that he wants the building for a supermarket, and begins legal proceedings to take the place over, since Miracles owes back taxes and isn't up to code. The kids decide to have a benefit, with break dancing, naturally, to raise the money they need to keep Miracles open. Kelly asks her dad if he can give them any advice, but he doesn't approve of her hanging out with the riff-raff and accuses her of trying to get money. Meanwhile, the Miracles crew has a DANCE RUMBLE under a bridge with their rivals, ElectroRock, who are clearly bad guys because their outfits consist entirely of red and black, with studs. They get served by Ozone and Kelly and Turbo, who are on the side of the righteous, so they are obviously better dancers. Later, Ozone realizes that ElectroRock needs to be on their side, because they are all from the same neighborhood and need to band together against White Developer Man. He goes over to the dance club where they hang out and pleads his case. I mention this because the club has a stage and on that stage is ICE T, performing in football shoulder pads covered in metal studs, studded belts, armguards, and fingerless gloves, plus sunglasses and a hat. It is...fantastic. There are animal tails on Ozone's hat, and pants. There are too many things about the way things look in this movie for me to give them all the comment they deserve, but MY GOD it is a sight to see. Right down to the final number, which features all the Miracles kids, and ElectroRock, and our protagonists, dancing in FLUORESCENT OUTFITS right up until the credits roll.

The thing I have to tell you is, after all this time, I finally realized that the funny little sequences where Turbo dances on the ceiling and Ozone floats through the air are not just for entertaining special effect. And the name Miracles doesn't just refer to the wonderful work they do at the community center. It refers directly to the MIRACLES that can be wrought when a group of young people learn to break dance, in unison and solo, for the forces of good. I don't know why I didn't make this connection before, but I now know. And I am better for it.

And because there are truly no words to describe how fantastic this movie is, I am going to attach my first ever clip of streaming video, so as to testify. FEAST YO EYES!

And if you are interested in learning more about the history of the dance forms featured in the movie, this website has a pretty good background for you.
www.fast-rewind.com/trivia_breakin2.htm

Non-Swine Illness, Self Publishing, and Mexico!

2009-10-29T18:31:00.010-04:00

Well. I was sick for a while there. Fever, snotty nose, sore ass throat, fever, sweating, bad stummy, etc. Doc said not the flu, but nasty as heck nonetheless. The only good thing about it was that my boyfriend got it too, so we were in the same boat (sorry, B) and I got to catch up on a lot of unwatched reality tv episodes (thank you, Gina, for telling me about realitytvfan.org!) and I got to play my new Lost game on the XBox. But I swear I wasn't having fun. I was sweaty and feverish, dammit! And very sleepy. But cats therapy and a good amount of cuddly napping, plus a dash of antibiotics, cured me. I'm getting a rep at work for being sickly, which sucks, because I never was in my life until I worked for both the public library and began attending a huge university. I mean, the germs are stacked against me, yo. ANYHOO. I went back to school and found out that even though some groups in my class get to present their project on December 9, and some on December 2, MY group is going to present on November 18th, because of Thanksgiving. So while it counts for my final exam grade, I only have like 2.5 weeks to come up with a 50 minute presentation on what Buddhism and Catholicism think of Abortion, from a religious ethical perspective, read Ethics for the New Millenium by the Dalai Lama, and write an analyzation of Martin Luther King's Letter From A Birmingham Jail. While concurrently composing a 32 page paperback book for my other class, comprised of Photoshop manipulated photographic images of my own design. Oh, did I mention that I'm getting together inventory for a craft show on the 14th of November? Yeah. By getting together, I mean creating from whole cloth, as it were. The craft show, or the Lee-Davis High School Band Boosters Holiday Craft Show, to be more accurate, was my bright idea for making money for my Thanksgiving trip to Tulum, Mexico, commencing on the 21st of November, and concluding on the 1st. At least there's a week-long taco and cocktail siesta at the end of the next couple of weeks, because I reckon I'll be friggin' pooped. POOPED. I swear, I tried to intimate to the doctor that some Xanax or the like would be helpful, but he didn't take the hint. They think you're a junkie or something if you are like "I just feel really stressed out" or "I get so anxious sometimes." Oh well. I suppose if I ate whole grains and slept and exercised regularly, I would handle deadlines and extra work with aplomb. Instead I'll handle it with snappish behavior and beer, like a good American. If Mr. Prez has to come up with a way for everyone to have health care, I can do a little homework, I guess. So, readership. Whoever gets me to 900 peeps (and everyone else, too) wish me luck in the coming weeks. I'm hoping for at least two B's and a couple hundred bucks for my Tulum Getaway. (And if Montezuma could possibly take out his revenge on someone else, I'd be truly grateful. I already left most of my intestines in Peru, 2007, so I've paid my dues to the gods of Latin America.)

Heck Yeah Obama! plus Roller Skatin' Fun

2009-10-09T10:07:00.000-04:00

Ahh. My favorite President EVER has been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, which is simply fantastic because my third favorite pres, Jimmy Carter, has one too. My second fave is not likely to get one, but I still think he's cool. And his wife, too. And for those who think he shouldn't have gotten one, I'd like to point out that if a bunch of Norwegians want to endorse our president for their own reasons, then we are already in a better boat than the one we were sinking in last year. ANYWAY, I just had to represent for a sec, because I would seriously walk through fire for Barack Obama. Or skate through it, maybe. Skate? What?

I gotta tell you, I like roller skating. Can I do it well? No. Do I ever go to the rink? No. But I still like it. I did it a lot when I was a kid, because it was the thing to do in the early eighties, and I remember it fondly. Also, the music they play at the roller skating rink (on "old school night" probably) is the music I like best. (Note my new funky slideshow feature at bottom of page.) I had a roller skating birthday party when I was about 9 that I missed most of because right at the beginning I knocked myself out and woke up on a bench with a bag of ice on the back of my dome about an hour later, after all the other kids had eaten cake. Unfortunately, my skills on skates do not match my fervent desire to be a jam skater of highest degree, so I just avoid the rink in general so as not to experience the frustration that is involved with not being able to execute the moves that come naturally to my dancin' feet when wheels are attached to them. So, I devote this post to the fabulous musical skate-fest that is Xanadu. Okay, kids, if you don't know the plot, here goes. Olivia Newton John (ONJ for short) is a Muse (yes, like Greek Mythology) named Kira, who wears those awesome barrettes with ribbons hanging down (I'm bringing 'em back!) and legwarmers and flowy ruffled stuff. She gets sent down to earth to inspire Sonny, a guy who is a great painter and rollerskater but just doesn't know what to do with himself. When she gets there she hooks him up with Gene Kelly, an aging and wealthy bachelor who had his heyday during the big band era. The two fellows decide to buy this great old art deco building and turn it into the most happening roller rink you ever did see, with all kinds of neon and shiny stuff and harem pants and gold lamé. There are many cool, or at least fascinating, music numbers, along with the obligatory 1980-or-thereabouts animated sequence, including roses blooming with drops of sparkling dew and our main characters turning into fishes. HAHA. At this point, if you've seen it, you know of what I speak, and if you haven't, you are like WTF big time. Ah, the fun of describing movies on me blog never gets old. Anyway ONJ falls for Sonny and all she wants to do is stay on earth and build a roller-rink-romance with him, but her parents, Zeus and Hera, are not trying to let her, so she makes a melodic appeal to them in a Tron-like landscape of glowing neon orange and red lines that is supposed to represent the realm of Mount Olympus, I guess, and she gets to come back at the end as a skate chick at the rink, who doesn't know who she was but is certainly down to get busy with Sonny. So all's well. We won't talk about the fact that roller skating rinks were probably not the best long term investment, because it was all about young love, man, and it doesn't matter when you've got a rink designed by a friggin' Greek muse, dude.
Anyway, watch and be blown away by the slice of life in 1980 that you get to witness in this movie, plus the fabulous clothes, hair, and rollerskating prowess of white Southern Californians.
ENJOY, and if you are a braver person than I, go out and learn to skate well enough to put them all to shame.

Party in the Hizzy

2009-09-26T11:58:00.000-04:00

Look, I know I usually post about movies from the seventies, and possibly eighties, with a smattering of earlier fare from the Old School Disney selections, but I just watched this movie with my boyfriend a couple of weekends ago and had to represent, so here goes.

Picture it: It's one of those nights where you want to watch a movie, but you've already been to the Blockbuster that week and you just can't be bothered to go again, and you'd rather sit at home and not go out anyway (Insert your "why doesn't she have Netflix?" question here. Answer: I tried it, and they were unable to ship to my apt successfully, so I quit. So there.) So, you peruse your HUGE selection of movies. You have seen all the DVDs what seems like recently. You decide to switch the cord to the VCR, thereby increasing your choices a hundredfold, because your selection of VHS is EVEN HUGER. You then realize that it is a little less huge because your boyfriend is now in residence, and he doesn't like "chick flicks" or animated children's films, more's the pity. So your choices are now limited to selections on VHS that have some sort of universal appeal to both men and women and are hopefully amusing enough for a Saturday Night with Beers On the Couch. This brings you, after a lengthy process of elimination, to a tape made by some guy that used to be a cook at the resaurant where your old roommate worked that he lent to her when she gave him a ride home. This tape has not one, not two, but three features on it. And they are named House Party (I, II, and III, respectively.)

House Party was made in 1990, that glorious year that distilled all the late eighties had to offer and gave you a taste of that most fabulous decade, the 90's, complete with mustard and purple rayon shirts for boys and stretch pants and sports bras and huge bangs for girls. And Kid n' Play, an immensely popular (at the time) "rap" duo ("rap" by the standards of a different time, man) that are featured as the main characters in the film, accompanied by Martin Lawrence and Tisha Campell, who are not a couple in the film, which can be confusing for those who watched a lot of the Martin show in later years. And also some hugely buff "thugs" that play their nemeses while wearing distinctly homo-erotic slashed sweatshirts and constantly suggesting that everyone but they are gay pussies (pardon me.) The plot is basic; Play is going to have a party 'cause he has the house to himself. It's a school night and it'll be hard for Kid to get to it because he got in some trouble at school and might run afoul of his dad. Also, some fine chicks (Sidney and Sharane, played by Gina and somebody you never heard of) have been invited and both Kid, Play, and their friend Bilal (Martin) want to sex them up. Hijinks ensue, yada yada yada, insert hilarity here, and the party gets going. Kid and Play rap, while Martin deejays at the party, and some smokin' hot dance moves are laid down. A little confusion about who has a crush on who plays out, with the girlfriends fighting over rights to Kid, who if you refer to the picture is an extremely weird lookin' dude but they seem to want a piece. What's funny is that these "kids" (Martin is like 25 I swear) go to all this trouble to party, and they just wanna dance! And have a good-natured rap-off! No drugs or boozing for these fine young gentlemen and ladies. Sex, sure, but that comes up later, when Gina (I mean Sidney) realizes she really likes Kid and he figures "Sure, why not" and they hook up. Also, there's a cameo by George Clinton in the movie, but it almost doesn't bear mentioning because he doesn't even perform and they sorely misuse his talents (which are some of the best, if not the best, talents ever.) Anyway it's a good-natured romp that is a fabulous snapshot of a time that I, personally, remember well. And it's funny, so take a look and go back to 1990 in all its glory.

I, Photoshopper.

2009-09-17T19:41:00.001-04:00

I have been taking a class this semester, name of Electronic Strategies/Computer Imaging. It is a Painting & Printmaking course, but we are mostly learning how to use different awesome and prohibitively expensive for the private citizen programs, like Dreamweaver for web design (look out world; I know HTML code!!! I can marquee whatever I want! AHAHAHAAA) and the incredibly cool and endlessly kick-ass program, Photoshop Creative Suite Four (CS4) which retails for like $700 and I am no way getting for Christmas from anybody, more's the pity. But, I can use it at school, so I thought I'd post you all a couple of examples of my superb creations that cost me $7.74 to print, with ink at .028 cents per square inch. To post on blogger, though, is FREE! Both were created with the use of good ol' Microsoft Paint (mostly the stretch/skew and inverse color tools) and screen caps of fabulously talented peoples' quilts, which I then altered drastically with Glorious Photoshop, which did I mention is freakin' cool as hell? Yes, I believe I did. What isn't cool is that no matter how I try, I can not get the final and truly badass versions of these files to upload to Blogger. Why? Not for lack of trying. So feast your eyes on the just-short-of-finishing-touches versions, and imagine how they might be a little cooler. Or I can tell you. This one down here has shadows and fades on some of it, and the one up top has a whole other level. But the gist is present, I guess. I'll try to get the real ones up soon....

Newbie + Littlekins = A whole lotta hissin' goin' on

2009-09-01T18:50:00.000-04:00

Well, I have some exciting news to report! Exciting for the likes of me, anyway; namely, a person who is thrown into flights of ecstasy over the presence of baby cats. I got a new one! My boyfriend called me at work on Saturday and casually asked if I would like a kitten (!!!). I casually replied "Oh, maybe, what do they look like?" while thinking "OMG! OMG!" and practically jumping up and down. It turns out his aunt had a couple left from a litter of fine countryside Virginia farm-cat stock. He said there were two, a grey-and-white, and a "gold" one. When he said "gold," I very un-spazzily asked if by that he might mean orange. Orange and white striped, maybe? And he said "Yeah, I guess you could say that." I then said "Is he fluffy? Is he healthy? How old is he? Is he tall? How long is his tail? What color are his eyes? Does he have large paws?" To which he replied "He looks cute to me. If you want him, I'll bring him over tonight." Needless to say, I could very much not concentrate on work for the rest of the afternoon, especially since if my boyfriend is willing to use the adjective "cute" on anything, then that's a really cute kitten all right.

Now, let me explain why I don't have a kitten already if I like them so much. You see, I have Smalls; ol' Jasper over there in the pic on the left, and he's quite a handful already. He co-habitated with another cat for the last six years, and thoroughly hated her ass the whole time, engaging in at least one bloody scrap-fest a day, coupled with all kinds of chasing, harrying, and cornering under the bed style activities. He is not called the Princely Prince for nothing, man. He is the man around the apartment, more's the pity if you forget it. So I was not going to bring some poor sucker into that world without a damn good reason. I did notice that when the other cat moved out for good, he seemed to be a little lonely with no one to lacerate on a regular basis. I also noticed that when my boyfriend spent time with him while I was at work, he seemed way less needy when I got home. So, I considered another cat, but wondered if Kins was perhaps one of those kind of cats that needs to be the only cat in the household. I have had a long-standing policy, though. That policy is this: If a kitten falls into my lap; be it found under a car/bushes/bench, thrust upon me by well-meaning co-workers, sleeping on my doormat, etc., I have no choice but to keep it. This scenario fit the bill, mostly. Also, I went to Chincoteague on a real vacation with my family when I was about 8 or 9 (meaning not visiting the relatives over the holidays, but just my family, with DAD who almost never got leave to spend time with us from the Navy) and it was a fabulous week of fishing all day for crab with my big brother and when not doing that, playing with the one thousand orange stripey kittens that lived on the docks across the street from our rental. I never had an orange cat, but I liked them from then on. So when this little "golden" fella fell in my lap, it was no contest. And Jasper's taking it well, all things considered. He was even playing with him this morning, even though when he saw me looking he pretended he was ignoring the kitten. A little swatting when the baby gets near the food dish, and the odd hiss here and there, but a much better reaction than I expected. It's just a tiny six-week-old baby, after all. So, Clyde, the Orange Kitten Of My Dreams, has now joined the household. May it be a long and prosperous relationship. And may the two cats start sleeping together in a squishy pile sooner rather than later, because that is some cute shit, man.

My trip was fun, and I'm on a mission from God.

2009-08-24T14:44:00.001-04:00

Well, as for the trip, it was good; except for the 2(!) speeding tickets that were garnered in upstate NY and the veritable monsoon that ran us out of the Phish show a tad early due to waterloggedness. Duck = delicious; caves = cold, and diverting but not the most impressive display ever; Gourmet dinner = outstanding; Phish show = hotel check in was a pain in my ass and everyone else's, but the show was pretty good despite the weather; Animal Park = awesome, even though we switched it to a different animal park that was more directly available on our route.

Then, after a few days at home, I headed up to NOVA to go to my friend's wedding party on Saturday, which was great because we've known each other forever and all our buddies from far and wide came to attend, and much reminiscence regarding who met who when and in what dorm, coupled with much beer and wine, took place.

Now, I'm in school again (alas...) and balancing that with work and the recent advent of my extremely cute boyfriend as a resident of my apartment has me exceptionally busy. But not so busy I can't tell you a little about a movie.*

As a result of a conversation with said boyfriend last week, I realized that I hadn't posted regarding my Favorite Movie of All Time. So, in an attempt to rectify my negligence, I will now say a little about the magnum opus of dear departed John Belushi and still-living Dan Aykroyd's careers, The Blues Brothers. This 1980 film, written by Aykroyd and John Landis, is the most universally defining movie of my life. I watched it one hundred thousand times with my brother growing up. Every line from this movie is permanently engraved on my cerebral cortex, and if an eight year old girl could have turned herself into either Jake or Elwood Blues, she would have done it in a snap. I idolized those guys like nobody's business. My brother named his two puppies after their characters 17 years ago. I can't even begin to explain how every nuance of this movie is exquisite to my personal sensibilities. For a white kid like me, there were no cooler people on the planet, real or fictional.

To summarize the plot, Jake gets out of the Joint (Joliet Prison, hence his nickname "Joliet Jake") and brother Elwood picks him up. They go visit the Catholic school they attended as children and find out that it needs money to stay in business. They decide to reunite their old band and have a benefit concert. The rest of the movie involves the two of them rounding up the old members and attempting to stage a huge show, all while falling afoul of the law in numerous ways that involve many car chases and crashes, one of which takes place inside a shopping mall. There are musical numbers by Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, Cab Calloway, James Brown, John Lee Hooker, and the brothers themselves, who had albums in their own right.

I love the blues, and I love sarcasm, and I have a fondness for outlaws, and my brother loves cars, and we both enjoyed the over-the-top car chases immensely. I will admit that my deep and abiding affection for this movie is probably entwined with my equal affection for my brother and our childhood together, but I will also attest to the fact that I have seen it plenty of times without him and it is still my top favorite movie ever. If I could be this movie, I would. I would be a black suit and sunglasses and a fedora, and I would be blues music as played and sung by the greatest purveyors of the sound, and I would be a Plymouth Bluesmobile, a performance of Rawhide in a honkey-tonk with chicken wire in front of the stage, Aretha singing "Think" in a soul-food dive, Elwood cooking toast in an apartment the size of my bathroom, and I'd be in that jail at the end when Jake and Elwood perform Jailhouse Rock for the inmates. And if I could live the scene in which this exchange takes place:

Jake: First you traded the Cadillac in for a microphone. Then you lied to me about the band. And now you're gonna put me right back in the joint!

Elwood: They're not gonna catch us. We're on a mission from God.

I would. I surely would.

And there you have it. Words cannot express properly, but if you get any of my meaning, get this: All movies I ever see are unable to hold much of a candle to this one. Watch and enjoy.

* I am trying to work up a Top 10 for the sidebar, just so's you know where I'm coming from. Stay tuned!

Plans for the Weekend!

2009-08-13T15:38:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow, I am heading to New York City to eat a chinese duck (as you can see on your left) with my extry family, the Brownings of Venice. This will be but the first leg of my fabulous plans, which after duck will include a tour of some caves in Upstate NY (with only one Browning), as pictured on your right. Then I'm going to have a fabulous gourmet dinner at the restaurant attached to the caves, as pictured by my belly, and including roast beast in gorgonzola cream sauce or some such delicious nonsense.

After the dinner, there will be a luxurious Best Western, and then the next day I'll be seeing my favorite band, Phish, for the 111th time, at Saratoga Springs Performing Arts Center, which is rumored to be a lovely venue, as pictured over here on your left again, followed by a night of revelry at the Saratoga Springs Hilton wherein I will pay an enormous fee to enjoy a hotel 1.7 miles from the venue, which is key to the whole revelry aspect.

THEN, on the way home, I'll be shooting through the lovely town of Harrisburg, Pa, where I will enjoy the fantastic sights at Lake Tobias Wild Animal Park, where, godwilling, I will get to do what these people are doing, namely, stroke an elk. And all manner of other critters in their fabulous petting zoo, as well as view non-pettables, like a tiger, and maybe a napping one at that. Then I must return to RVA and face the true End of Summer, as defined by the fact that I have to go to SCHOOL again and this time for like four months. Poo. But, I will take the memories of Duck, Loved ones, Caves, Good Food, Phish, the Hilton, and Wild Pettable Animals home to bolster me in my time of drudgery.

RIP John Hughes. I'll never forget you.

2009-08-06T18:34:00.001-04:00

John Hughes died from a heart attack today, out on a walk in Manhattan. He was visiting friends, and then he was gone, at 59. I can't really put into words how much his movies meant to me. It will suffice to say that he was the single most influential director in my life. I'm going to let his credits speak for themselves, courtesy IMDB.

Writer:
2000s
1990s
1980s
1970s
Drillbit Taylor (2008) (story) (as Edmond Dantes)
Beethoven's 5th (2003) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantes) ... aka Beethoven's 5th: Big Paw (USA)
Maid in Manhattan (2002) (story) (as Edmond Dantès) ... aka Made in New York (USA: poster title)
Home Alone 4 (2002) (TV) (characters) ... aka Home Alone: Taking Back the House (USA: DVD title)
Beethoven's 4th (2001) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
Just Visiting (2001) (screenplay) ... aka Les visiteurs en Amérique (France)
Beethoven's 3rd (2000) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
American Adventure (2000) (TV) (characters) ... aka National Lampoon's American Adventure (USA: complete title)
Reach the Rock (1998) (written by)
Home Alone 3 (1997) (written by)
Flubber (1997) (screenplay) ... aka Disney's Flubber: The Absent Minded Professor (promotional title)
101 Dalmatians (1996) (screenplay)
Miracle on 34th Street (1994) (screenplay)
Baby's Day Out (1994) (written by)
Beethoven's 2nd (1993) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
Dennis the Menace (1993) (written by) ... aka Dennis (UK)
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992) (characters) (written by) ... aka Home Alone II (USA: short title)
Beethoven (1992) (written by) (as Edmond Dantès) ... aka Beethoven: Story of a Dog (Australia: cable TV title)
Curly Sue (1991) (written by)
Dutch (1991) (written by) ... aka Driving Me Crazy
Career Opportunities (1991) (written by) ... aka One Wild Night
Home Alone (1990) (written by)
Christmas Vacation (1989) (written by) ... aka National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (UK: complete title) (USA: complete title) ... aka National Lampoon's Winter Holiday (UK)
Uncle Buck (1989) (written by)
The Great Outdoors (1988) (written by)
She's Having a Baby (1988) (written by)
Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987) (written by)
Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) (written by)
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) (written by)
Pretty in Pink (1986) (written by)
Weird Science (1985) (written by)
European Vacation (1985) (screenplay) (story) ... aka National Lampoon's European Vacation (UK: video box title)
The Breakfast Club (1985) (written by)
Sixteen Candles (1984) (written by)
Nate and Hayes (1983) (written by) ... aka Savage Islands (UK)
Vacation (1983) (screenplay) (short story "Vacation '58") ... aka National Lampoon's Vacation (UK) (USA: complete title) ... aka American Vacation (Europe: English title: video title)
Mr. Mom (1983) (written by) ... aka Mr. Mum ... aka Perfect Daddy (Philippines: English title)
Class Reunion (1982) (written by) ... aka National Lampoon's Class Reunion
"Delta House" (5 episodes, 1979) - The Matriculation of Kent Dorfman (1979) TV episode (written by) - Campus Fair (1979) TV episode (written by) - The Deformity (1979) TV episode (written by) - The Lady in Weighting (1979) TV episode (written by) - The Shortest Yard (1979) TV episode (written by)
Producer:
2000s
1990s
1980s
New Port South (2001) (executive producer)
Reach the Rock (1998) (producer)
Home Alone 3 (1997) (producer)
Flubber (1997) (producer) ... aka Disney's Flubber: The Absent Minded Professor (promotional title)
101 Dalmatians (1996) (producer)
Miracle on 34th Street (1994) (producer)
Baby's Day Out (1994) (producer)
Dennis the Menace (1993) (producer) ... aka Dennis (UK)
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992) (producer) ... aka Home Alone II (USA: short title)
Curly Sue (1991) (producer)
Dutch (1991) (producer) ... aka Driving Me Crazy
Only the Lonely (1991) (producer)
Career Opportunities (1991) (producer) ... aka One Wild Night
Home Alone (1990) (producer)
Christmas Vacation (1989) (producer) ... aka National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (UK: complete title) (USA: complete title) ... aka National Lampoon's Winter Holiday (UK)
Uncle Buck (1989) (producer)
The Great Outdoors (1988) (executive producer)
She's Having a Baby (1988) (producer)
Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987) (producer)
Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) (producer)
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) (producer)
Pretty in Pink (1986) (executive producer)
The Breakfast Club (1985) (producer)
Director:
1990s
1980s
Curly Sue (1991)
Uncle Buck (1989)
She's Having a Baby (1988)
Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Weird Science (1985)
The Breakfast Club (1985)
Sixteen Candles (1984)
Actor:
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) (uncredited) .... Guy Running Between Cabs
The Breakfast Club (1985) (uncredited) .... Brian's Father
Class Reunion (1982) (uncredited) .... 'Girl' in dress with paper bag over head ... aka National Lampoon's Class Reunion

John Hughes, 2/18/1950-8/6/2009
Thanks for Chet, and Bender, and Ferris, and Cameron, and Farmer Ted, and Duckie, and Uncle Buck, and Cousin Eddie, and Amanda Jones, and the Griswolds, and The Great Outdoors, which is one of the only movies my Dad and I ever bonded over. Thanks for everything.

Done with summer school and sick as a...kitty?

2009-07-30T18:47:00.000-04:00

I hab a rudny node. And me heed is swoled up with mucous. But you don't want to hear about all that. I used up all my sick leave a couple of weeks ago, so I'm forced to be sick at work, which is always weird. Cold meds will make you feel like you're on another planet. Somebody asked me where the photocopier was and I said "Okay." It's the kind of illness that isn't debilitating; just makes you tired and want to take a nippy nap. Especially when I know that my cat is at home laying in bed with his little fuzzy belly up and his paws making biscuits in his sleep while he emits loud rumbly purrs of comfort coupled with little trills of true bliss at being a cat taking a nap. Bastard. But, I did attend my last class of summer school this morning. Actually, it was just a meeting with my professor, so he could look over the body of my work from the course and tell me what he thought of my progress and what grade he thought I deserved. It was a good meeting and he seemed to think I did well for a beginner at screenprinting, but he had the obligatory art professor conversation with me that I've come to dread. Here it is: "You've obviously got skill, and the ability to execute the assignments. Now what you need to think about is what is in your deepest soul that you want to bring forth and express through your work." OMG BARF. That crap kills me. Forgive me if I sound like I can't take instruction, because I can, and my prof even said he liked that he didn't have to push me to do things and take chances. The thing is, I have lived 33 years on this planet, and been all around this world, and I have literally worked hard to turn into a person that could be proud of theirself, and I resent it when someone suggests that I am not imbuing everything I do in LIFE with myself. My deepest self. It's like they want you to freak out and say that you were abused and start drawing crazy biz or espouse a weird ideology and channel ancient cultures or some off-the-wall crap and I am just being ME and I don't feel like I need to force some shit that is coming from my fabulously talented fingers naturally. So that's the rub of art school. Someone always has an opinion, and that's fine. But one must keep in mind that art is the most subjective of concepts and no one can know what you're thinking. It's like when someone writes a bio on a "real" artist, one that's dead, and tells you that they just know that that fish head is a metaphor for the economy, and probably the color used in the sky represents the loss of innocence. Dude, case in point; Magritte was just trying to freak you out. If I had said to my professor this morning "I was just trying to freak you out" he would have scoffed and asked me what I was really feeling in my deepest soul. Poo, I say. I will do whatever shallow crap I want and it will be beautiful. And, maybe, it won't be shallow. And maybe, after I'm dead, some little girl will go to the National Gallery and look hard at my work and think "I will do that someday!", like I did, and she won't be trying to decide if the dog is supposed to mean my teacher used to hit me with a ruler.

I think you should know...

2009-07-24T16:06:00.000-04:00

Look. I know this blog is mostly about movies I like, tigers, cats, and names thereof, and nominally my personal life. There has also been a wee hedgehog. But I was just looking at AnimalTracks on MSN (good animewel pics if you like that kind of thing) and I saw this little bugger. His mom was killed in Mexico, and he and his three little brothers were brought to a Nature Guy to be bottle fed until they can go out and do Dillo-ey stuff in the wild. He wants you to know about him. And I happen to be privy to a little info concerning his more interesting factoids, so I thought to share them with my reader(s). There is only one type of armadillo that lives in the Estados Unidos. He's a Nine Banded Armadillo, referring to the number of plates on his shell. He can roll up in a ball to protect himself, but more often, he will escape into a thorn patch, or burrow down into the soft sand. He is known to jump when startled, and can jump like 4 feet in the air, sometimes 6! No kidding. He jumps when he sees a car, which doesn't help, but rather increases impact. He also needs to swim sometimes, but since his armor would make him sink, he knows how to inflate his intestines with air. No fooling. He (or she, as the case may be) always gives birth to four genetically identical quadruplets with every pregnancy. Amazing, indeed. He also, unfortunately, is one of the only animals that scientists can use to study the disease leprosy, because he can catch it, more's the pity. He likes to dig, and eat invertebrates; like ants and grubs and whatnot. He was also found in larger sizes back in the day, when children used to use him for a beast of burden. For reals. Now go out and spread the word. An armadillo isn't just the subject of unseemly roadkill jokes, he's a fascinating creature. And proof that no matter how oogly an adult version looks, the baby one is almost always cute.

I know you missed me, and probably Ralph Macchio, too.

2009-07-14T10:30:00.000-04:00

Well, where have I been? BUSY, that's what. I had visiting relatives, two trips to the beach, an afternoon of musical theater featuring German schoolchildren doing nasty things, fireworks, a little more family tragedy (no, I prefer not to comment), screenprinting despite a lack of skill, and a lot of math homework. And this weekend, I'm going on a much anticipated ACTUAL vacation to Ohio to see P-Funk, feat. George Clinton, one of the best acts in showbusiness. See, all the other stuff I've been up to has been squeezed out of weekends and holidays. This is a bona fide, see-you-next-Tuesday four day weekend with all kinds of debauchery in store. And I needs it, let me tell you. Times is hard, man. Times is hard. WHICH brings me to the subject, namely the fantastic cinematic jaunt known as Crossroads. NOT WITH BRITNEY. 'Nuf said. It features Eugene (Ralph), or "Lightning Boy" as he comes to be called, a classical guitar student at Julliard, who longs to be a bluesman, and Blind Dog Willie Brown, an old man in a rest home who Eugene figures can help him learn a lost song from back in the day. Willie (Joe Seneca) demands he be "sprung" from the old folks' joint, and Eugene complies. They hightail it to Mississippi, and Eugene thinks it's so he can learn the blues life, but what he doesn't know is that Willie made a deal with the devil at the crossroads way back when, and now he wants to break the contract. Yes, the devil. Or Legba. Or Ol' Scratch. On the way they pick up a saucy runaway played by Jamie Gertz, and tangle with all kinds of rough folk, until Eugene, or "Lightnin' Boy", is forced to participate in a guitar duel against the devil's proxy, (played by the virtuoso Steve Vai, of badass eighties fame) in a fight for Willie's soul. This final scene has a chicken dancing lady, which I can't even describe properly. And there's a another scene before the end wherein Lightnin' and Willie are obliged to play in a juke joint for money. One of my favorite lines is in that scene; something to the effect of "That's Willie Brown! I used to watch him when I was tiny!" and there's quite a bit of fabulous repartee between young and old in the film. I read somewhere on the net that some fool thought the movie pretty much crap until the duel at the end. To him or her, I'd like to quote Scratch's assistant in the movie, as said to Willie Brown: Ain't got no chance Blind Dog. You SOLD your soul. You goin' down, all the way down. Hell hounds on your trail boy, hell hounds on your trail.
Oh my goodness, it doesn't get much better than a line like that. Once again, 'nuf said.

Reunited and lonely

2009-06-18T20:02:00.000-04:00

Well, if you looked at my previous posts, then you are aware that my mom has been having some dangerous health problems. I was more scared than I've ever been there for a while, but now the shock is starting to wear off, and continuing good reports are making me feel better about everything. What is a nice side effect of Mom's misfortune is the outpouring of support from friends near and far, and a closer family bond as a result. Also, my ex boyfriend called. He heard about Mom through the grapevine, so he decided to hit me up to express concern and let me know he's changed his ways. We didn't really formally break up; I just stopped talking to him around Labor Day last year. Why? I don't want to go into it, but it will suffice to say that one of us was a gainfully employed, law abiding citizen who had a driver's license and didn't live with their mother, and the other one...not so much. So, I figured there was no way to compete with 'ol Peter Pan and his boyish ways. But, he who was once a bit adulthood-impaired has gotten the proverbial haircut and real job. And I happen to still find him exceptionally cute. And sweet. So, we had a nice reunion and it seems that there's plenty of caring there to build on still, and I am happy about it. Thing is, I've been so busy filling up my single lady time that I am literally booked for the next month. I have Father's Day in MD this weekend, Outer Banks beach house with my friends next weekend, and Fourth of July with my sister the weekend after that, and then a trip to Ohio for a FUNK MUSIC FESTIVAL after that. During the week, I work full time and go to summer school, thus taking up 12 hrs of my day. And he lives an hour away. And hasn't gotten that license yet, so I miss him already. Life is funny. Hope he still likes me in August....

Screenprinting, math, and a little bit of happiness regained.

2009-06-09T15:54:00.000-04:00

So, my wish has come true. As of Saturday, the 6th, my mom is home. She is doing really well, considering the damage to her heart tissue from the attack. She is on a lot of meds, and will be tired for a long time, and may have to have a defibrillator put into her chest in case she experiences the dangerous symptom of ventricular fibrillation, but she's ALIVE and that's what I hoped and prayed for so fervently last week. Now I just have to make sure Dad knows that he can't just feed her frozen dinners since she's supposed to rest and not do the cooking. He was going to give her one that had fifty one percent of the RDA for sodium when I was leaving on Sunday night. She's supposed to have only 2 grams total a day! Oh, well. It's a learning process for everyone...

On to summer school. Unfortunately, in order to get the required amount of credits I needed to get my student loan for the term, I had to enroll in two classes. No big deal, but it turns out that one of the only ones I could find that meets outside my work hours is a MATH class. I am an art student, and I haven't taken math since I was in tenth grade, back when Color Me Badd wanted to Sex You Up. I attended the first class last night, and I was pleased to find that I could understand what he was talking about to some degree. It is statistical math, with the supposition that you would be more likely to encounter the techniques in the real world (riiiiight). I now know, from one class, seven different ways to tally election votes, including the fact that poor Al Gore (I voted for you, man!) was indeed the Condorcet winner in 2000. And as for my studio art class, I am going to be learning how to screenprint, which is a long held desire of mine. It should be way more gratifying than ceramics, since I actually want to know how to do it. Hopefully I can get a project done in time to give it to Mom for her birthday at the end of this month. Even if I can't, I know this birthday, and the 43rd anniversary my parents are celebrating this Thursday, and every holiday for the forseeable future, will mean so much more because Mom might not have been there for them. Now, to keep all the promises I made to the Man Upstairs if he'd just help her get better.....

Happy Cat art by Paul Koh, courtesy Google Images.

It's all fun & games until...

2009-06-03T16:17:00.000-04:00

Well, I've been MIA for a few days. Unfortunately, it's because my beloved mom had a heart attack last weekend. She's doing okay; still in hospital for now, but expected to improve and come home soon. I had an extremely frightening weekend, though. My mom and I are very close, and she's always been the stronger of my two parents, healthwise, so this came as a horrific shock. Luckily my dad, who's got his faults, is still the dashing savior he's been my whole life, and got her to the ER in time by running every red light on the way. And my sister and brother and their spouses have been great; all of us are really pulling together to try and help our parents and each other through all this. When I got to where they live (two hours from me) and visited Mom in the hospital, I was afraid she'd look frail or sick. She didn't. She just looked slightly chagrined and vaguely shocked. She's embarrased to be the center of attention, crazy lady. The thing I didn't realize was that even though I knew I'd be sorry to leave her when visiting hours were over, I was even more sorry that her cats couldn't be there with her to keep her company. It may seem silly, but those animals are her constant friends, and even when my dad is out of town on business, she's got a warm creature on her lap that adores her with every fiber of its tiny body. And the other one, who's really my dad's devotee, still knows who's giving out kibble in the morning, and pays her proper respect. So, even though I get good reports from the doctor and nurses and Dad all day long, and I'll be seeing her myself tomorrow, I won't be totally comfortable until she's home getting the therapy only a fuzzy pal can impart. It might seem trivial, but if you've got a cat for a friend, then you know what I mean. I love you, Mom. Come home soon.

Aliens would be better if they were CATS - OSD

2009-05-27T09:51:00.000-04:00

Oh Disney. You used to know what real entertainment was all about. And it included cats. Where's the feline entertainment factor these days? You don't see Miley Cyrus solving a mystery with a dashing tabby tomcat in todays films. Probably would improve her image, too. ANYWAY, I digress. The topic of today's post is The Cat From Outer Space (1978). It goes without saying that I love this movie. It is just excellent. To break it down for you, a flying saucer crashes on planet earth and is confiscated by the government. Its pilot, a cat named Jake, wears a special collar that makes him able to telepathically communicate with humans. Jake enlists a scientist named Frank and his lady friend, Liz (Sandy Duncan, she of the Glass Eye that everyone who grew up when I did talked about on the playground, i.e. "Guess what? That Wheat Thins lady has a GLASS EYE! She can take it out and roll it around and put it back in!") to help him repair his ship and return to his planet. Hijinks ensue, especially when they figure out that what's needed to fix Jake's ship is GOLD! What is hilarious is, since it's 1978, the cat just wears this collar and speaks in the characters' heads. The collar lights up when he's talking, so you know what's going on, and he looks vaguely in the direction of the person he's talking to, but not always. I'm sure if it was modern times they would make some sort of cheesy CGI mouth for him, but I like it better the old way. He's a real cat! (Actually two cats acted in the film, a brother and sister named Rumpler and Amber. Rumpler is a good name!) And real cats don't always like to be held, as you can see from the switching tail and general irritated demeanor he has whenever Frank picks him up. Also, Jake claims without that collar that he'd be an ordinary cat, but if that's true, how did his "people" invent the collar in the first place? Perplexing indeed. Nevertheless, a diverting tale with a cat as its main character is never to be missed. Including the scene where there's a little alien cat assisted pool table betting. And Roddy McDowall. And a mouse named Drexel. So watch it and absorb all that felis domesticus has to offer the silver screen.

Photo fun + porcupettes = hilarious

2009-05-21T11:18:00.000-04:00

Working at the library gives you the opportunity to find out about all kinds of awesome things. I am a huge proponent of the Juvenile Nonfiction section. In a book meant for kids, probably no longer than 30 pages (with glossy photos) you can get the salient facts about any number of subjects, such as the GNP, flag, song, population, main exports, and currency of any country in the world, and the habits of all sorts of animals, and anything else you can dream of (that would be appropriate for juveniles, so no true crime or sex tips...of course). This has given me the edge on a million trivia games over the years, let me tell you. So, a few months back, I was looking at a kid's book from a series called "Nature's Children" that I particularly enjoy. This one was about porcupines, and the best thing I found out from giving it a glance (because I was of course diligently attending my duties) was that a baby porcupine is called a porcupette. This is incredibly cute, and I was immediately inspired to write a poem regarding the cuteness. Unfortunately, it got lost in a deleted email. It was genius, of course. Anyway, what this all boils down to is that the final lesson in my Web 2.0 training concerned fun things to do with photos. I chose to alter this photo of a baby hedgehog that my pal Sommer sent to me (as close a facsimile of a baby porcupine she could find) after I let her read my poem. Naturally, he's a bibliophile. I have uploaded dozens of photos, and even altered them with my pc's paint program, but the links in the lesson module gave me access to a whole world of fun things you can do to photos. Which don't necessarily have to be goofy, if you were trying to come up with a neat piece of visual appeal for a library program, it could be more understated for adults, but I find goofy always works. Yet another thing to thank my job for; goofy photo mash-up lessons! How cool!

P.S. The hedgehog had the sombrero on before I altered the pic. Go figure.

IKEA here I come!

2009-05-20T16:07:00.001-04:00

My beloved bestest-friend-ever roommate who is like a sister to me is moving out in the next few weeks to move in with her fiance. That's okay, and the natural order of things, and I'll miss watching a movie with her and her fluffy cat who has bad litterbox habits and playing seek-and-find games on the pc and all the million other things we did together, but one way I get to deal with it is by buying NEW FURNITURE to replace the things that are leaving with her. I am thrilled by this. I will be going to IKEA, that bastion of cheap and sturdy Swedish minimalist stuff, this weekend. Not only going there, but going there with mom, which means she might just foot the bill for a rug called SJARGSKA or something. Or a bookshelf called JIBTRUN with the two little dots I don't know how to make with the keyboard. Anyway, I am clearly ignoring my emotional distress at loss of roommate by the use of retail therapy, but who doesn't do that stuff? And really, once I'm done making my apt a fabulous new space (that will include just the right environment to turn my treadmill from a laundry holder to a fantastic new weight loss machine) there will be no reason to lament the fact that my BFF is living with somebody else who doesn't probably understand that Kits isn't really mean, you just shouldn't approach her from the rear. Or any direction. Or touch her, unless you are my roommate, or me. So good luck with that, fiance.

OSD comin' atcha, or A Cat in A Bonnet is EXCELLENT

2009-05-12T14:55:00.000-04:00

Today I feel the need to get down to the business of this blog; that of honoring our little squishy pals (in my case, the Earl of Stripylegs, who was happy as heck to see me last night.) And what better way than to mix in another recurring blog theme; honoring Old School Disney? That brings me to my point, which is a little gem called The Three Lives of Thomasina (1964). This baby, much like Darby O'Gill, has it all. Romance, excitement, witches, aincent Egypt, vicious Gypsies, veterinarians, Scotland, and a CAT. Basically, Thomasina is a cat who has a tragic accident and is put to sleep by Dad, the widowed vet. The townsfolk think that Dad is heavy- handed when it comes to euthanasia, and he has trouble exposing them to modern medicine practices as a result. Daughter Mary's relationship with Dad is strained (after an elaborate cat funeral) until a mysterious (and attractive) witch moves into a cottage in the woods and Thomasina, the cat, returns in a new life as her pet. This witch is talented at healing animals, and romance betwixt vet and witch ensues. Thomasina even saves the Mary's life at one point. Thomasina's afterlife sequence with forty siameses and a huge golden cat idol is both impressive and downright weird. According to IMDB, it was originally released in three one hour segments on a Disney TV program and later turned into a feature, but no matter. It certainly reads as a feature film when you watch it. It also manages to capture the love of people for their cats while not being cheesy/lame about it, in addition to bringing up the issues of mercy killing, and paganism vs. modern science, strangely enough. Thomasina is pretty funny too, as evidenced by the quote "They started out by calling me Thomas, but when they, um, got to know me better, they changed it to Thomasina." And the movie was indeed filmed in Scotland, so it has pretty authentic location footage. It is a tearjerker in parts, and can be totally traumatic for little kids, or so I hear, but I didn't see it until I was in my twenties, so I can't say that I was too upset by it. I was, actually, overjoyed to have another OSD classic to add to my collection and have it be about Cats, too! And BONUS: it is as equally eerie and whimsical as my beloved Darby O'Gill. It does end on a happy note, so no worries there. It is just a good example of what I always appreciate; namely, a movie with an ORIGINAL premise in a world where the same crap is regurgitated over and over. Of course, this was 45 years ago, so people hadn't gotten around to being quite so unoriginal yet...anyway, watch it and enjoy. I've got this one in my top ten OSD favorites, so you should take my word for it.

So. Sleepy.

2009-05-11T15:29:00.000-04:00

I got up at four thirty this morning to catch my flight at six in Detroit, arriving at 7:30 in D.C., then work at 12:30 in Richmond. My plane, of course, after I boarded, was determined to have a vague disease known as "equipment failure". We deplaned, waited a while, and found out they were commandeering a flight for us departing at 10:09 am. This made me feel guilty for the poor saps who were probably supposed to be on that plane, but facing a possible wait until 2 pm for the next scheduled flight to REAGAN national and being bussed to Dulles was even more upsetting. So, I was a couple hours late for work, but at least I got there. So now I just have to feel bad that my poor brother in law (who is a saint in many ways already) had to get up so early and drive me to the airport when I didn't even go anywhere for four hours after I got there. And I had to try and nap in an international airport. Which is not fun, let me tell you. I got sniffed by a TSA dog while snoozing on a bench with uncomfortably placed armrests that are put there specifically to keep you from lying down, even though they know perfectly well sometimes people have to wait at the airport and need to sleep. One thing that would have made the wait and attempted nap a million times better was a cat (although drug sniffing dog might have caused trouble there...) like the one in this pic. Alas, I suspect that nowadays you can't bring mammals through the security check, in case they have a bomb on them or some such. Anyway, I'll be home touching my own personal mammal in T minus 5 hours 12 minutes and counting.....

R.I.P. Captain Chaos

2009-05-05T16:36:00.000-04:00

Alas, the world has lost a funny guy. I'd like to say it's sad, but since he lived to be 75 and starred in a whole boatload of films, plays, and tv shows, I don't know how sad it really is (of course, I don't mean his wife, three children, and many friends when I say this.) What I do know is that he played a hilarious character in Cannonball Run and Cannonball Run II, and it was compelling to see the exchange of friendship and true humor that both Dom and Burt Reynolds shared onscreen. That kind of friendship is what life is all about, and from what I read, that's how everyone who met him felt. (Also, without making this a C-Ball Run post, you can't deny the power of Jackie Chan in a Subaru, or Jamie Farr the Sheik, or Sammy Davis Jr, for that matter.) So, props to you Dom DeLuise, and I hope there's plenty of delicious food up there in heaven, much like the recipes in the cookbooks you wrote in your second career as a chef. I will enjoy watching Cannonball Run soon, in your honor.

Studying African American Art History

2009-05-04T16:22:00.001-04:00

I have been busy these last few days studying for my art history final, which is tomorrow at 7 pm. This consists of memorizing the artist, medium, year of completion, and title of 45 works of art, and also studying up on the general history of African American Art for the 5 essay questions I'll have to answer. I'm not too worried, because I got an A on the mid-term, but I am still busy memorizing the facts. Not to mention, I have a Ceramics final project critique on Wednesday morning. Which means, since it's tiles, that I have to glue them to the board I bought, and then grout them and have them dry in the next 36 hours. While working and studying for the ARTH exam at the same time. And I wanted to go back to school why? Oh yeah, to improve my life. I personally would like to improve my time in bed, but that won't be happening soon because after my finals are over, I'm flying to Michigan for the weekend, because even though my Mom lives a couple hours from me, we have all decided to go to MI to see my sister and her family for the Mother's Day holiday. And I'm coming back on Monday morning, then driving from Dulles to Richmond to go to work at 12:30 that afternoon. So no snooze quality for me in the near future. But, on the upside, I've learned about an artist I really like (maybe even more than one, but this one in particular) that I really wish my high school art teacher would have told me about because I was making work that was very like his and thought it was weird and not really "worthy" because it was not in keeping with the Eurocentric ideals of art I was raised with. Then I get to be an adult and find out about Jeff Donaldson in an art history course, and all my artistic tendencies from 10th grade are now justified. I've given you the best example to explain why I now don't feel like all those hours I spent coloring in tiny squares that didn't look anything like French Impressionism were wasted. This painting is not only kick-ass, it's got a great title too. Feast your eyes on Jampactjellitite, by Jeff Donaldson, mixed media, 1988. And wish me luck on this exam, too.

I enjoy being productive!

2009-04-28T16:54:00.001-04:00

I am posting today about Online Productivity tools. The featured website for the lesson was Google Docs. I had never heard of it, so this one was new for me, as well. I have been familiar with a few different office suites in the past; mainly Microsoft Office and Open Office, but this is a little different in that you can work online and also share your work with others, or let others contribute to your files. I love a good slideshow, so here's one I made as a test run for Google Docs.

OF COURSE there're uses for this stuff at work. There's really no end to the possibilities here. I have just made a slideshow in like 5 minutes after the first time I ever saw the site, so just think what you could do if you actually had some time to learn the ins and outs. And now my silly slideshow is published to the web, so if someone else wants to use it to illustrate online productivity, they can. The gist of all of these new Web 2.0 applications being that you can both edit and share various types of information, and organize it as well, the sky is really the limit. I can't thank my job enough for giving me the exposure to these tools that I might not have had otherwise. More ways to impose my opinion on others.....YES!

Duty Calls

2009-04-27T14:33:00.001-04:00

I am sorry to admit I have been remiss of late; all caught up in the heady atmosphere created by blogging about old movies from my childhood. So, back to the serious business at hand, namely, my Web 2.0 training. So, firstly, let's discuss good ol' social networking. I'll confess I am somewhat ambivalent about social networking. I have Friendster, Myspace, and Facebook accounts. All of these were joined by me at the urgent behest of some friend or relative that explained that I just had to join so I could keep in touch with all of my friends or relatives. Especially Facebook, the newest one I belong to, wherein all my ultra-conservative cousins like to discuss their reasons to hate Obama (no likey). I can see how you could make use of them for business networking purposes, and especially on Facebook there are a lot of apps, like Virtual Bookshelf, that you could use for Library Purposes. On the other hand, people you thought you got away from in your past can search you and find you on these websites and make you feel guilty for not keeping in touch (also, no likey). Next up, social bookmarking. This is the first of the 2.0 lessons that was all news to me. I have not been exposed to the concept, except to ask somebody what that del.ici.ous thing was at the top of my screen sometimes. This is a totally cool idea. And clearly has myriad uses for anyone trying to organize information on the interwebs, and then share it with other like-minded users! Reference librarians can share with one another the website they found that is awesome for kids doing reports on Native American tomahawk construction, and not have to spend time rooting it up again next year when the new 4th graders ask the same questions. So cool. Personally, not really necessary at this point for my life, as my tag cloud would consist of "BAD CELEBRITY OUTFITS celebrity gossip CUTE CATS KITTENS weather IMDB TV LISTINGS naptiger" Which doesn't really warrant a cloud at this point. And also makes me slightly ashamed.

The Hotly Anticipated Results

2009-04-22T15:35:00.000-04:00

Poll voters, all 6 of you, you have spoken. When faced with the choice between Dolly Parton, Lily Tomlin, and Jane Fonda, vs. Lily alone, vs. Burt Reynolds, Dom Delouise, and a boatload of others, vs. Burt and Sally Field, the big winner with 50% of the votes is 9 to 5 (what a way to make a livin'.) I can't really blame all three of you, since that movie has a fun title track, rat poison, animated birdies, and several fantasy scenarios. Plus Dolly is a surprisingly talented actress. She is a testament to how being self assured makes all the difference when people might be inclined to not take you seriously. I would like to point out that someone also would have voted if there had been an "Airplane" choice. So that would have brought my total to 7 votes. Well, it was my first poll, so I'll have better expectations next time. And also, I'd like to point out, that while 9 to 5 is a boss hating movie, I am in no way a boss hater. I have been lucky to have incredibly nice and understanding bosses my whole working life, and I certainly wish my current one(s) all the health and happiness they can get. And no rat poison.

Old School Disney makes for excellent Leprechauns.

2009-04-20T16:12:00.000-04:00

At my elementary school, we used to have "Movie Day" at the beginning and end of the year. All the classes got to bring pillows and blankets and camp out on the gym floor as they projected Classic Disney films onto the wall drive-in style. This would have been from about 1980 to maybe 1984, when I moved away. So, for a total of about 8 times, I got to be exposed to some of the classics that have imprinted themselves onto my brain and forced me to shell out money as an adult to build my own collection of Old School Disney. There is an actual "Disney Classics" label which some of them have been released under, but there are others that I deem classic that haven't made it. One that has, though, and probably one of the finest of the whole bunch, is Darby O'Gill and the Little People. This is set in Ireland, and is the story of a older man (Darby, played by Albert Sharpe) who captures the king of the Leprechauns and tries to get him to own up to the whereabouts of his Pot 0' Gold. This man's daughter, Katie (Janet Munro), who looks after him, is unmarried and pays little heed to her old dad's crazy notions about the Little People because he likes to take a nip now and then. There's a subplot wherein our lovely Katie gets to have a romance with a young pre-Bond Sean Connery, who is incredibly handsome, and also a scene in which we see a banshee, which fueled many a nightmare in my younger days, which in no way affected my opinion of this movie. I LOVE IT. It has got an original premise, jaunty musical numbers, surprisingly good special-effects-tiny-leprechauns with live actors for 1959 (even though a few strings are visible here and there) and some excellent repartee betwixt our main guy and the leprechaun, King Brian. And if you aren't scared of banshees after you see this film, you are a strong character. I appreciate that this movie was made long enough ago that they hadn't started softening up and dumbing down plotlines for our precious youth, and really, if your kid is so protected from hardship, then maybe they only learn about death from movies, which is better than being forced to be a child soldier in Sudan or some such. I remember parents complaining 35 years later when the animated father lion got killed in the Lion King. Ridiculous! That banshee and various other aspects of Darby O'Gill lend it not only cultural integrity, but the right kind of thrills to sear those images into a 7 year-old's brain and make her blog about them twenty-some years later. AND, you get to be reminded again not to mess with the King of the Leprechauns, which is always good advice (along with that little chestnut about land wars in Asia). Incidentally, I feel a LOT of Classic Disney posts a-brewin', so if I ever refer to OSD in the header, that's a sign that you are about to go for a ride on the Old School Disney Nostalgia Express. Enjoy.

Beasts and the power to master them....

2009-04-17T13:41:00.000-04:00

Well, now it's time to delve into that other most revered genre of movies heretofore undiscussed; in a word, Fantasy. Oh, I still mean seventies and eighties movies, but instead of commentary on the state of society or relationships, as most of my previous posts regarding film have covered, I now refer to those films that contain characters or worlds outside of the mundane. And what more perfect film to represent the genre in all its glory, I ask you, than Beastmaster? This movie has it all, man. Holy cow is it good. Basically, the main guy, Dar, (Marc Singer) a prince, is abducted by the minions of an evil sorcerer, Maax (RIP TORN!!!) at birth. The minion in question (a witch) is then overpowered by a hunter, who then saves the baby and takes him to his village. As the boy grows, he displays the power to communicate with animals. When he is older, Maax sends a horde to wipe out his village. Natch, Dar uses his talents and some friends to help him exact revenge. This is a VERY skimpy synopsis, because I have left out the myriad things that make this movie truly enjoyable, not least of which are his two ferret pals that go with him everywhere and are exceedingly cute to look upon. There are also life-sucking bat creatures and crazed berserk warriors with green worms in their heads, a scantily clad girlie named Kiri (Tanya Roberts, who also played Sheena. Don't get me started. I literally couldn't get enough of that film for about 3 months when I was a kid. Example: "Sheena, your hair smells great, what do you wash it with?" "Why, zam-zam berries. What else would a woman use?" Spoken from the back of a zebra, no less. Enough said.) I would like to point out that there are also a falcon and a bear and a TIGER in the pic, and all of these animals both help and lend their power to our protagonist in the course of his adventures. I am not doing the movie justice with my description, I guarantee it. Suffice it to say that if you like muscles, loincloths, animals, doltish fellows, creepy monsters, RIP TORN(!!), stupid sidekicks, eye gouging, witchcraft, crossbows, swords, and severed heads, you've got your pick right here. And don't try to make claims on behalf of Krull, Conan the Governor, or Dragonslayer. I am way ahead of you. (I'm not totally unsympathetic to arguments in favor of Krull, but the others are nowhere close.) Beastmaster trumps the others because of the ANIMALS. This is Naptiger, man. Of course! Who doesn't fantasize about communicating with animals? You don't? Liar.

Baby Boom, reprise

2009-04-13T14:25:00.001-04:00

I am posting to inform the world that I am to be an auntie again. I have five nephews, three by my sister and two of my brother's. My brother's wife is expecting a new baby in October. I found out yesterday; a fitting piece of news for Easter, indeed. I said 'I didn't expect to be an aunt again!' and my sister-in-law said 'I didn't expect to make you one again, either!' So, little he or she is rather unexpected, but it will be fun to have a tiny baby to manhandle again. My brother's youngest is five, so it's been a while. Naturally, my mother's reaction to the news was "Well, it had better be a girl." So tactful, Mom. Not, "Oooh, a new baby! How wonderful! And wouldn't it be nice to have a granddaughter?" or "Not that it matters, but how nice it would be to have a girl baby in the family," but just It Had Better Be A Girl. It had better be, or the poor little bugger may be wearing frilly lace dresses regardless. My sister had her third boy entirely in the hopes that if they tried again, it would be a girl. No dice. Also, my sister-in-law's sisters only have boys, too. So there is a powerful lack of baby to bestow bonnets, bows, crocheted booties, and the like on. All I hope (and my brother and sister-in-law too) is that the wee one is physically sound and his or her mom has an easy time. But that's just me. I'll pretend like I care when discussing it with my other family members, so they don't think I'm a traitor to the cause.

Personally, I think it would be fun if the bambino came on Halloween, so that I could tell it that all that candy was for him or her every year until it grew old enough to catch me in the lie. That's what aunts are for, incidentally. Lying for entertainment. Hence my excitement about a new victim; the other ones are wise to me now. Good luck, little zygote, and I'll see you in a few months....

Internet Gaming is my friend, but Edgar is not.

2009-04-09T12:41:00.000-04:00

I have been a fan of internet gaming for a long time. As long as the internet has existed, as a matter of fact. I like to play seek-and-find games, which used to be less available, but are enjoying a surge in popularity these days. They basically consist of you looking for a list of hidden objects within a picture before the clock runs out. I can't get enough of that stuff. Especially because shooter or arcade style games stress me out (I'm afraid I'm going to get "killed" so much I can't play the game properly.) You know what else would stress me out? My PC trying run my household. Which brings me to the explanation of who Edgar is: one of the main characters in a movie called Electric Dreams. This movie is a straight up classic. I don't know why more people haven't seen it. When you Google it, it comes up as "obscure movies of the eighties" and its soundtrack is more famous than the movie itself. With good reason, since it features works by the Electric Light Orchestra (ELO to those of us who are fans) who simply kick ass, in my opinion, and UB40, whom I have all the albums of, as well as Culture Club and some nice classical cuts. Let me enlighten you as to the plot: Dorky Guy (Lenny Von Dohlen, who according to IMDB is now to be found on Ghost Whisperer...that's a shame) gets a computer with all the possible bells and whistles, and proceeds to install it in his home with the hopes that automating all of his appliances through the computer will simplify his life. Girl (Virginia Madsen, of Sideways fame among other things) moves in upstairs. Girl is a concert cellist. Guy becomes smitten. By accident, guy spills a glass of champagne on computer, making it sentient (!!) Computer then thinks to itself that it might have a thing for Girl Upstairs, and proceeds to make Guy's life hell by screwing with the house that he is wired to run (Stereo up loud! Doors locked! Coffeemaker haywire! Etc.) and driving Guy absolutely insane. Girl, meanwhile, has a jerky boyfriend from the orchestra and ignores both Guy and Computer until she realizes something funny is going on downstairs. Of course, in the end, Guy gets Girl and computer gets the shaft. Not before the Computer divulges that his name is Edgarrrrr in an awesome campy sort of "electronic" voice that is done by Bud Cort. The first review on IMDB for this movie states that the guy who wrote it fell immediately in love with it and would now count it in his top ten of all time. I couldn't agree more. I can only hope that my spreading the word will improve its veiwership worldwide. Especially because in the way of all that is good and holy from my childhood, there appears to be a plan to reprise the movie in a modern context to be released in 2010, which, needless to say, is a travesty. Original or nothing! Up with ELO! Down with stupid remakes with no cultural relevance in today's world! Okay, I'm done.

A word regarding the genius of Diane Keaton

2009-04-04T10:38:00.000-04:00

Okay. By now you've figured out that I'm a fan of movies from back in the day. (My back in the day, of course, being the seventies and eighties. Not that I don't appreciate the era before that, but I grew up on these, hence my affection for them.) Well, despite my recent discussion of seventies movies, and my poll at the bottom of the page which everyone is ignoring, I have plenty of eighties favorites, too. And this leads me to my point. Did you ever have a movie that, no matter what time it's on, no matter what you may have been thinking of doing, you feel you have to watch it in its entirety? You are literally compelled to watch the whole thing. And you want to, because you like that movie so much that it makes you feel glad to watch it again. Well, I have a few of these, but the first which helped me to identify the phenomenon is Baby Boom. This gem features Diane Keaton as a powerful shoulderpadded NY ad executive who finds herself saddled with a baby through a last-living-relative scenario. She initially intends to rid herself of "it", but becomes enamored instead, and tries to incorporate her new motherhood into her high powered career. This doesn't work out too well, so she hangs it all and moves to a farm in Vermont. The farm looks good on paper, but turns out to be a bit of a wreck, and she becomes despondent away from the city life. With the support of a handsome veterinarian, she gets on her feet and creates a successful business selling the baby food she's been forced to make out of boredom and a bumper crop of fruit from her orchard. She then, of course, gets a chance to meet with her former employers, who want to run her ad campaign, and she sticks it to them.

This movie is great on so many levels. It deals with the women's lib sort of "I can be a mom and work, too" concept that was so prevalent in the eighties, but shows how it can be possible only if a person retains their sense of family while working. And it shows how a woman can do anything on her own, but sometimes needs to realize support is not a bad thing. I would hazard that this is Diane Keaton's finest performance. I'm not kidding. Annie Hall is good, but she is ditsy in it and not a real, strong, independent lady. The Godfather stuff is fine, but it's not her own personal vehicle. And the stuff she's been up to lately doesn't even bear mentioning (crap). So, here's hoping I don't turn on the tv to check the weather some morning and find Baby Boom instead, because then I'll have to miss work, and I don't want to get fired.

Wikis plus a little splainin' to do

2009-04-02T14:21:00.000-04:00

Wikis are cool! I love Wikipedia; it's my default for reading about stuff I don't know (online, that is, not in real life, when I would of course use the many and fantastic resources of the Public Library.) I have yet to contribute to one, but as the training video about this week's lesson so aptly showed, the application of the wiki concept is useful for coordinating info, which is not something I had realized wikis were useful for. You know what else is useful? Giving your mom a tiny cat. You laugh, but I gave my mom one I came across on the side of the road last year, and it was a great move. She loves that cat. And, I am touted as a miracle worker for bringing the two of them together. They are like symbiotic creatures, one getting hedonistic lap scritchings 'round the clock, and the other getting all the worship a lady needs. My mom, I'm sure, has some nicknames for her (Treasurepaws). Her name, in fact, is Amanda for the vet, and Mandy for everyday. I, personally, like to call her The Chairman. (Of the Itty Bitty Kitty Committee. She's small.) My bff got to meet her in the few days she hung out at my house (before it became apparent that if she was to live, she needed to be absent from my cat's murderous intent) and dubbed her Tiny Naylor, after a restaurant owned by a sports celebrity that she used to frequent out in LA as a youth. So when we discuss her amongst ourselves, that's how she is named, i.e. "Did you see Naylor at your mom's last weekend?" and "Naylor is extremely cute. I may have to swallow her whole." This is all by way of explanation for the list o' cat nicknames you'll find on the left. I did put a disclaimer regarding my attitude towards cats, but I felt a deeper explanation of my love for nicknames and how they come about was in order. Which gives me an Idea. A wiki about cat nicknames? Ooh....

I lost 50 lbs in a week, and Lily Tomlin rocks.

2009-04-01T17:50:00.000-04:00

I am now obeying the one rule! (You've seen it, you know what I mean...) I am eating acai berries, brushing my teeth with two magic ingredients, super-cleansing my colon, wearing Spanxx, applying botox for hair (that's the latest, don't you know) and eating bars/shakes/pills instead of actual food.

These are lies. April Fool's lies, to be exact. Actually, I believe you would have to be a fool to fall for that stuff, but I guess someone does, or they wouldn't keep trying to shove it all down your throat. I also think there's a good chance that using all of the pills, drugs, food supplements or replacements, creams, injections, and various other products, both topical and internal, could make you shrink like Lily Tomlin. Oh, man, I love that movie. You know what I'm talking about? The Incredible Shrinking Woman! She's a houswife (and this is the seventies, when there were probably about 1000% less products available to shrink you) who uses a combo of cleaning supplies and toiletries that have the freak effect of making her shrink to a tiny little person who then takes up residence in her daughter's dollhouse and tries to avoid the garbage disposal and the family cat. I have tried to get it at every video store in town, and even Netflix didn't have it before I quit using them, so I may have to try and buy it through Amazon, but the DVD has yet to be released, and I don't want no stinkin' VHS for the likes of a Tomlin classic. I have Big Business on DVD, for goodness' sake, and that may not even be as good.

Kilns are bothersome and I needs a nap

2009-03-30T16:12:00.000-04:00

Here is my first-o'-the week whiny post. I have to work until Saturday (wah) and I am already tired just thinking about it. These striped sleepers are doing what I would be doing right now, had I my deepest wish at this time. I will not get to snooze for long tomorrow either, because while I have secured the right to show up for work a couple of hours late in the morning, it's because I have to go to school and fire a kiln. Fire a kiln you say? Yes, I do. What does that entail, Sarah? Well, let me enlighten you. It has to be candled, which means turned on low to prime itself, tonight. My instructor for ceramics has kindly offered to do that for me. Then, starting at 9 a.m., it needs to be turned up to low, low, off (three temperature dials.) Then at 10, it gets low, low, low, and at 11, medium, low, low, then at 12, medium, medium, low, at 1, med.,med.,med., then 2 is high, med.,med., 3 is high, high, med., and finally four is high, high, high! THEN the actual firing of my sculpture begins. Naturally, I can't be there for the whole day, but I was only able to find a classmate to hook me up with temperature adjustment assistance between the hours of 12-4. So I have to turn it up every hour from 9-11, then go to work, then get off of work at 5:30, head over to the kiln room again, check to see if the piece is done, and if not, go back over when I get out of class at 9:45 p.m., and finally turn the kiln off. It is supposed to turn itself off, but it may not do so, hence my need for supervision. And of course, heaven forbid my piece blows up or melts or something. This is all for a class I wouldn't have taken if my registration hadn't been late, and while I'm getting an A, I don't even like clay that much. Did I mention that I have slacked and don't have a student ID, which I'll need to get to get into the building after classtimes are over for the day, which means I'll have to go get one made between low, low, low and medium, low, low. Oh, kitties, how I wish I was free to nap eighty percent of the day, like your soft and snoozy selves. Maybe I'll train my lil' fuzzy buddy to turn temperature dials so I can sleep in next time....

Pics + computer = lots o' fun

2009-03-26T10:08:00.000-04:00

This is my obligatory Flickr post. I don't have much to say about it, because as you can see from my excellent visual aids, I already have facile abilities with the online photo sharing websites. I can tell you that I heartily enjoy the concept, and have a personal account with Photobucket, which is about the same. Alas, I have lost the wee cord that goes from my camera to the computer, so for the last little while I have been unable to upload. I got an email from Photobucket that said "your album misses you" and actually felt guilty. Just as I do when I don't post to this blog, or check my Facebook or Myspace and respond, or just my email (all 5 accounts). Cyberspace, how could you do me like this? I thought I had enough guilt from normal human relations (i.e. why haven't you called me? and how could you miss your cousin's wedding? etc. etc.) and now I have to feel bad when I don't upload photos to the interwebs! Also, not being able to do so poses problems, in that fabulous photos are mounting in number on my camera, and if I ever do find the cord, I will not be able to remember what they are about. On the other hand, the situation has probably kept me from posting self portraits that I thought were pretty good when I took them (Hey! If I put this one as my profile pic, my future husband just has to notice!) but turned out not so much the next morning. Anyhow, Flickr and the like are especially good in my mind because I never have the wherewithal to actually turn digital photos into print photos, but (if one has the usb cord) it is much easier to save them into a virtual album and forgo the whole paper thing. Of course, don't tell my mom that. REAL pictures are important for posterity and we should never forget that, you know.

2009-03-24T16:22:00.000-04:00

Well, it didn't work. In the course of attempting to influence the universe via the internets, I forgot the cardinal rule. You don't say (or in this case, post) your wishes aloud. Stupid! I have had that drilled into my head at every birthday-candle-blowing-out since practically birth, and then I went and dropped the proverbial ball, thus ruining my chances. There is, of course, as they so kindly mentioned in the "we regret to inform you" email, another opportunity to get tickets when they go on sale to the *gasp* general public this weekend, but then I'll be at the mercy of a million different factors, not least of which are my slow-as-heck laptop at home and the hundreds of thousands of other fans that will be trying to access the Ticketmaster website at exactly the same moment. Not to mention the freakin' impossible to decipher "captcha" thing you have to type (You know what I'm talking about. It's wavy, distorted, upside down, tiny, faint, or in a foreign language. Or all of the above.) before you can place your order. I will try, of course, but my hopes have dwindled considerably. Of course, I have tickets for other shows, and I could try to orchestrate a trade, but these things are not concrete, and I wanted confirmation in my hot little hands, dammit. It is a sad day in Tigertown, that's for sure. Not only am I not able to alter the future via my blog, but I may not get to go to Red Rocks AGAIN. Dang.

Psychedelic Kitteh wants to go to COLORADO

2009-03-23T12:44:00.000-04:00

Here is my attempt to influence fate by sending a fervent wish out into the world via the internets. Today, tomorrow, and the next day are the window in which the Ticket Gods will decide if my lottery request for Phish tickets will be awarded. I have requested two tickets for each night at the famed Red Rocks Ampitheatre outside Denver, Colorado. I have wanted to see them play there for the last 14 years. The band was actually forbidden to play there due to the excessive amount of fan insanity back in their heyday. I guess the powers that be decided that the new, reunited version of the band is no longer a threat. (This might have something to do with the fact that their core fan base is now in their thirties instead of early twenties...) I will have to sell a kidney to afford the shows and the plane ticket and accomodations, but I would gladly do so. This venue is legendary. You see the band play amidst red rock mesas towering over your head as the music is amplified by the near-perfect acoustics. Or so I hear. Please, oh mighty random lottery, grant me my wish! I want to pay your service charges and online fees! How can you turn me down!

This will work, of course. I can influence the universe with my blog, didn't you know?

You remind me of the babe, and I mean that in the nicest way.

2009-03-19T15:24:00.000-04:00

Haha! Don't get it in your head. You don't want it there! It's the most infectious ditty ever attributed to David Bowie! And now I've done it. I'll be mentally avoiding that business all day. If you don't know the tune to which I refer, go on out and get yourself a copy of Labyrinth, feat. Jennifer Connolly in her nascence and Bowie himself, as well as a fantastic array of puppetry. There are no tigers in the film, but if there was, it would be a puppet tiger and have a sarcastic attitude and a duplicitous nature. There is, however, a fox riding a dog, so that will have to do. Although I couldn't find a full body shot of him doing so, rest assured he does indeed have a sheepdog steed. (Sorry.) If this movie was a blankie, I would have worn it to tattered shreds by now many times over. Doesn't hurt that our protagonist shares my name, or that Jim Henson is responsible for the puppets, or that Brian Froud designed the look, or that Bowie is AWESOME. What does hurt is that tune. Damn, I don't know what kind of magic spell to use. Maybe some puppy dog tails. I'm too busy trying to learn how to juggle crystal balls across my knuckles to figure it out.

Asthma is for the cool kids now, and Golden Girls remembered.

2009-03-18T18:10:00.001-04:00

Hey! Did you ever want to read a blog by a genius poet? A bona-fide librarian? A thought-provoking and hilarious cartoonist? A rodent sympathizer? A founding member of the Hipster movement? (maybe not the last...she'll be killing me for that one, haha.) Of course you do, now that I've piqued your interest! Well, dear readers, you're one click away from the right place. My most excellent and revered friend has a great site, the Asthma Chronicles, to which you'll find a link on your left. My heartfelt thanks to anyone who goes there, as she has kindly offered to make me famous with a link from her blog to mine, so I'm returning the favor. I am also providing you with a lovingly rendered line drawing of a tiger, so you can begin to understand the flavor of the comics you're in store for (with far more humor than I could ever hope to provide) when you head on over there.

When I was a kid, the Dionne Warwick song that became the theme song for The Golden Girls struck a chord with me. It seemed like the ultimate (little kids are cheesy, give me a break) testament to friendship, and I used to sing it to all my stuffed pals with earnest feelings of love. Well, I'd like to think my taste in music (and testaments) has improved, but the thought still counts, and I'd like to say Thank You For Being A Friend to the asthmatic one. She may not be a psychic friend, but she doesn't cost $3.99 a minute to talk to, either.

Podcasting, plus destructive cats.

2009-03-16T19:14:00.000-04:00

Today I learned about the wonders of Podcasting. While the term has a sort of old school alien movie flavor, (Oh no! Monster Zero has podcast me into oblivion! Captain Kirk, my podcaster is malfunctioning! Quick! Podcast us into hyperspace! ) I really think the idea is cool. I am a visual person, so I like access to video about anything, but the whole idea that you could get whatever stuff you like sent to you via a feed is very exciting. There are obvious applications for any profession, but the library can benefit from recording programs and podcasting them, as well as book reviews, maybe computer tutorials, info about community events, etc. etc. No segue comes to mind between podcasting and bad cats, so I won't even try. In the illustration I've provided you today, you'll note a Tiger eating a Windshield Wiper Blade. My cat, who is looking all sweet and innocent up there in his portrait, is equally damaging to all things scratchable in the home. Were I to unleash him on the out of doors, he might even chew on a wiper blade. I wouldn't put it past him. He is probably a third of the way through the wood frame on the door out to the deck; in addition to having ripped the finish off of anything wood with legs in the home. He also has an irritating predilection for destroying cardboard boxes by ripping them into as tiny bits as possible and spreading them evenly throughout the house. How I adore him. Especially when he throws the litter as far from the box as felinely possible. That's skill! (Don't even get me started on his vocal stylings. Or his incessant peeping, to be more specific.) He's a cute fuzzy buddy, but one of these days I'm going to podcast his little butt.

What would we do, baby, without us? Or Captain Stubing?

2009-03-13T11:20:00.001-04:00

Whilst taking a break from perusing the financial pages, my old pal Alex P. decided to enjoy the company of a tiger. C'mon, Alex. You know you wanna take a nap with that kitteh. Incidentally, has anyone else been enjoying all that the net has to offer in the way of old tv shows? You can go to the network websites (like Nbc.com) and look at syndicated programs that they own the rights to, and also sites like Hulu and Tv.com have tons to watch. I have been reliving my youth (minus my jerky older sister telling me to change the channel) via these. I have watched about all the Love Boat there is out there (that is a freaking awesome show. Spelling knew what he was doing) and most of the Family Ties, except for what may be my favorite episode; the one where Tina Yothers decides to forsake Skippy in favor of the "cool girls" by wearing silky oversize blouses and horrible costume jewelry and talking like a mentally deficient person. Can't seem to track that one down. I recently watched a few Fantasy Islands (weirder than I even remembered!) and Facts of Life (exactly as I remembered. I watched that one a LOT) and One Day at a Time (Schneider!) and NO I don't have too much time on my hands. I'm really very busy. Busy being entertained by Captain Stubing and his wacky crew, that is.

I Can Lick 30 Tigers Today! Or not. Eew.

2009-03-12T14:45:00.000-04:00

This lesser-known Seuss offering is a little gem I came across today in my work. (Yes, working! Not blogging!) It gives me an opportunity to point out the disparity between the good Doctor's word usage and the current meaning thereof. In the twenty-first century, licking a tiger would involve fur and your mouth, which is both a yucky and exceedingly dangerous endeavor. In the olden days (or perhaps 1969, as the copyright date would attest) "to lick" actually meant "to beat up" and, while it would be equally dangerous, might prove less nasty in the oral hygeine department. In the story, the Cat in the Hat is contemplating whupping 30 tigers, and then comes up with various reasons to knock one or two at a time off the total, ending with just one, who then gets out of a lickin' in favor of lunch. So, it's an illustration of the old "I felt great this morning, but now I could use a sandwich and a nap" scenario. Which is a common enough occurrence in my world. Here's to licking tigers, and lunchtime, and scaredy cats with accessories.

Lardball all a-twitter

2009-03-11T16:14:00.000-04:00

This cat is an example of what my brain feels like when I have been looking at twitter; i.e., overstuffed. I recently joined Facebook at the behest of my sister, and am already overwhelmed by the minutiae that can be reported on a second-by-second basis through that website alone. So, twitter, in all its glory, is overkill. I need not know what people are up to at every moment, and frankly, I don't want to know. Yes, I was impressed when I read that lawmakers were twittering about the event during the president's speech to congress a few weeks ago, and I understand the implications of getting news and other forms of info sent to me, but what becomes increasingly clear the more I explore the wild and wooly web is that I feel like it's TOO MUCH INFORMATION. I guess the way to look at these tools is that they give you the power to select exactly what you want to know, instead of just being bombarded by random stuff on webpages. Still. I am going to have to pass on the tweeting. And you kids get off my damn lawn, too!

Dancing, dancing, and more dancing.

2009-03-10T15:14:00.000-04:00

Here are some silly dancing tigers to commemorate the weekend I just spent dancing my butt off. I got to go see Phish's reunion shows in Hampton, Va, after an almost 5 year "break up" (yeah right.) I saw their final shows in Vermont, for a total of 107, so these were my 108th, 109th, and 110th. They played really well, better than they had at the "goodbye" shows and for some time before that, and I'd venture to say that their set choices hearkened back to what I consider a "golden age" for Phish tour; somewhere between '96 and around '00. It was GRRREAT! Wonderful to see the Family again, and nice to know my 30-plus self can still bust a move for three nights running. I laughed, I cried, I spent a riDONKulous amount of money, I saw people from all over the country, and I slipped and fell on a beer-soaked floor 3 different times. A weekend well spent! Now, I'm back to work at my nifty job, and my continuing intrepid exploration of all that Web 2.0 has to offer. Whee!

Rss feeds are not tasty.

2009-03-04T19:45:00.000-05:00

Here is an actual feline pimp for your pleasure.

This post is satisfying my blog alter ego; the one that must comment on web 2.0 training, not tigers and their habits or associations. I learned about how to set up a reader and link RSS feeds to it today. This is an awesome feature of web 2.0 for some, I'm sure. I am still hooked on the anticipation of checking to see if a celebrity has worn a terrible outfit or my sister is cooking over one hundred cupcakes for her childrens' school party. I guess I don't consider my time valuable enough, yet, to give up surfing the web for all the things I'm interested in. But, I can understand the value of the feature, certainly for people who have busier lives than mine, or are interested in a vast variety of sites on the web. And I definitely think it is a wonderful application for libraries. I can just see moms getting their storytime schedules fed to them instantly, and what if people could get pre-overdue notices this way? Endless possibilities, really.

Tigers, piglets, and family life.

2009-03-04T16:06:00.000-05:00

This here is a tiger with several piglet babies. Dressed as tiger babies, naturally. Because were they not in poorly constructed tigerlet suits, they would be snacks, and not her precious brood. This is a lesson for us all. Babies dressed as alternate mammals are still in need of milk. Even if it is from a big ferocious carnivore. And babies who are getting that milk from said carnivore should not look like dinner.

They should look like little pimps, instead.

Gettin' clean, and the truth about cats and moisture

2009-02-28T10:08:00.000-05:00

Here are some tigres enjoying the bath. This, as anyone with a regular mini-size cat knows, is a rather unlikely scene. For the domestic kitteh, bathtubs are anathema. One time, my buddy Smalls (on your left up there; that's my boy) was skulking about the edge of the tub, and slipped. He made like an eggbeater, hovering above the water while whipping it about with just the tips of his paws. During this time, I became about as horrified as a bathing person can be when faced with a pointy eggbeater. Visions of the Dude and a captive marmot made me nervous....but 'ol Littlekins made his way out without actually succumbing to gravity and being fully moistened. And in the going on ten years we've been pals, I've yet to see him wet. Tigers, rather, seem to be all right with bathtime. I imagine these are discussing stock options...

Baby tiger and the effect of "-or"

2009-02-26T13:06:00.000-05:00

Here is a baby tiger with a bunninator for a friend. Very cute, and somewhat remarkable. And yes, I said bunninator. Because the rabbit is not to be trusted, and therefore gets "-or" put on the end. In the vein of the evil Skeletor of He-man fame, I have determined that putting "-or" on the end of things makes them inherently evil, and/or sneaky. For example, it's just a finger, right? But what happens when it's a Fingor? Scary, is what.

Kittehs, and the history of the term

2009-02-25T15:24:00.000-05:00

I could not help myself. Damn you, google images. All the stripey kittehs in the world, and so little room on my page. By the way, the origins of my blog's title are as follows: On a trip to the zoo with my friend and fellow buddy-to-cats, Casey, we had a discussion about how it is so comfy to take a nap with our OWN furry pals, that it must be much better to take a nap with a FULL SIZE cat, i.e. one of the snoozing tigers we were watching at the time. And yes, I realize they have pointy claws and ferocious teeth, but when sleeping, they are just kittehs, and stripey ones at that. My favorite kind. Voila, a username was born!

Web 2.0 and Blogging.

2009-02-25T13:54:00.000-05:00

First Post! I think the blog was incredibly easy to set up, that's for sure. And I am enjoying the Web 2.0 training so far because while I use a lot of 2.0 stuff already, blogging was not one I'd tried. So now I can foist my opinion on all kinds of weirdos of the wider world, and they have the wonderful County of Henrico Public Library to thank.