Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Well, shit.

Because I was under the misguided impression that RT started on April 23, not April 16, I have had to drop out of Assassins. Damnit, and I was going to be so good, too!

I'm still sick, and enjoying the view from behind my reading glasses immensely. Everything outside of three feet in front of me is kind of wavy and laid back. I know I'm probably going to go blind enjoying this gentle curve to the scenery, but Pink Floyd is on at Dino's and I just don't care.

Okay, so I read something incredibly dumb on TEH INTARWEBS this morning. See, in the online Pagan community (well, the Pagan community, in general, but especially in the online portion of it), you tend to run into individual who will spout all kinds of nonsense that they believe, stuff that makes absolutely no sense at all, and they expect everyone to bow down before their superior knowledge because PAGANISM CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT IT TO BE OMG!!!11!!! If you don't immediately go, "Right, you're really, actually a dragon, you just can't show me your true form because I'm not a Shaman and only Shamans can see dragons in their true forms without having their tiny minds blown apart," then you're totally persecuting them on a never-again-the-burning-times kind of way.

Now listen, I'm as flighty and flakey as the next New Age believer. I worship and pray to deities that do horrible things to mortals and themselves, and some who live in the trees and sleep all winter. I have as many issues as the next Pagan. But today I read something that made me go, "OMG, Pagans are fucked up."

The statements in question came from a LiveJournal post in which the poster says that while researching the ancient Celts, they found a drawing of an androgynous, animal-like creature in one of their Pagan books. They meditated on it with their "master" (here meaning "teacher", not like the kind of master Brynn writes about) and came to the conclusion that the Celts actually existed before humans. This is groundbreaking! To think that a group of humans existed before their species did!

When people pointed this out to the lunaticoriginal poster, they replied with, "I know this sounds so different from everyone elses, but I am coming from history in art and using sheer intuition."

This is the best excuse I've ever heard of for blatantly ignoring established scientific, archaeological, and anthropological evidence in direct contradiction of one's own personal theory. From now on, whenever I say something that is later proven to be wrong, I will argue that I am correct, coming from history in art and using sheer intuition.

Usually, I just blame everything on Pon Farr.

Seriously, random internet poster, you have just knocked "Because it's in the Bible!" out of the number one spot in my top ten list of "Stupid Excuses To Believe Something Ridiculous That Has Been Debunked By Solid Scientific Evidence."

So, the standings are as follows:

Jennifer Armintrout's Top Ten Stupid Excuses To Believe Something Ridiculous That Has Been Debunked By Solid Scientific Evidence:

  1. "I am coming from history in art and using sheer intuition."
  2. "Because it's in the Bible!"
  3. "Silver Ravenwolf said so in To Fly A Silver Broomstick!"
  4. "I saw it on Dateline!"
  5. "It happened to that kid who was on Wonder Years!"
  6. "Someone sent me a forward about that!"
  7. "My grandmother swore by it!"
  8. "It was in a Thai medical journal."
  9. "I just do what feels right to me."
  10. "My lawyer advised me to."

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Monday, February 25, 2008

This Probably Should Have Been A Friday Grabblog...

... but this is my blog, and if I decide that Friday content is for Monday, then it's going to be and you can't tell me what to do anymore because I'm not going to be held down by the man!

Anyway, this is a rare and horrible look into what it's like to be my friend. This is where I try to "interview" my friend Warnament. It all goes so terribly wrong.

It was still processing, last I checked, but it probably will work. I don't know how to use all this new fangled technology.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

I'm at Dino's. They're playing 50's/60's music (natch), and the song that is on has the perfect beat to Pony to. I'm going to get up and do it in a second here.

I am looking rough today, y'all. I didn't wash my make up off last night, I didn't take a shower this morning, I just wrapped my greasy hair up in a bun and spritzed myself liberally with lavender water and took off. I almost went straight home after I dropped my kid off at school, but you know what? This ain't no fashion show. I can do what I want. So I came out here.

Okay, quick American Idol update... is this the most lackluster season ever or what? None of these kids are talented. Sorry to say it, but it's true. Even the ones the judges are raving about. I bet if you stuck this batch in the Hollywood Week of season three, they wouldn't have made it this far. And what the heck did Paula say about Diana Ross? That her singing was a disaster or something like that?

Okay, the song, "Just A Gigolo" is on, the one that isn't by a hyperactive, spandex-clad douche bag David Lee Roth. Is that guy like, an evil dwarf or something? Not like, a dwarf as in someone with dwarfism. I mean dwarf as in wearing pointed shoes and granting wishes and hiding gold coins in the forest loam.

It should be painfully clear at this point that I have NOTHING at all to say today. I'm just typing to keep myself from falling asleep at this table. I can't even muster up a "Van Halen Sucks" rant to be interesting. You know I'm tired when I don't want to criticize the suckness of the music and lament the tragic waste of Eddie Van Halen's talents over the years.

Whatever, I'm going to go make faces at this douche talking too loud on his cell phone.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I'm gonna be in a play, yo.

So, I'm gonna be in a play. Assassins, by Stephen Sondheim. Pretty cool, huh? I thought so. Got cast last night. I don't get to shoot anyone, but there is singing involved.

Monday, February 18, 2008


Every year, I am duped by the weather in Michigan. After yet another long and horrible winter, the sun-- that vapid whore with her false promises of warmth and joy-- seduces me into believing that now, that snow and wet and dirty slush is all over. That life will be nothing but frolicking in fields of green for all times. And just as I begin to think that perhaps I can enjoy the graying warmth of December all season, Mother Fucking Nature takes a big, snowy dump all over my plans. Where's the sun now? Oh, she's off courting her Johns in the Souther Hemisphere. But she still loves you baby, hey-ay. Whatever. That bitch. "I'm gonna leave you to freeze and slide all over the damn road, but I'll still shoot a solar flare at you every now and then, just to, you know, make sure your cell reception is shit.

The good news is, I'm holed up at Dino's with a big giant cup of pumpkin spice chai (tastes like the red flavor of ACT mouthwash, really), and later I get to shop for work pants for my husband. The tax on the work pants shopping is a copy of The Tudors, Season 1 on DVD. The guy that plays King Henry in that would almost be schmecksy, but he looks way too much like one of my cousins for me to go to that particular place.

And the snow, still she falls down.

I learned today, for the first time, that there is a cabbage-like vegetable called rape. I'm going to plant a whole garden of it. That way, I can tell people that I've spent all day working on my rape, and I can keep them informed of how my rape is coming along. Also, I can stand at my garden's edge and say, "Look how lovely the rape is today."

Tell me something to cheer me up. I don't care if it's true or not, make it up if you have to. And make it sound warm. Or, give me recipe suggestions for how I should prepare my rape.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Why is it suddenly so hip to hate Valentine's Day? So many people I know (all women) profess to hate the day and even hold anti-celebrations where they bash it and everyone who "buys in" to the rituals of candy and flowers.

I, on the other hand, love Valentine's Day. It's such a positive time. According to many smart scholars of the Middle Ages, today is the day when birds get down. It commemorates the Catholic feast day of one or more guys with the same name who were possibly priests or maybe bishops and apparently martyred, but no one really knows. And the WTFery that ties chocolates and roses and candlelit dinners into that is completely unexplainable, and probably has something to do with that whole Medieval thing about birds fucking. What's not to like here?

I was trying to understand the psyche of someone who hates heart day when I asked my friend Cristin, a notorious hater, WTF was up with all the attitude. She told me that she's hated Valentine's Day since she was in high school. At her school, students could send roses to their sweethearts for a small monetary fee. Kind of like the candy canes in Mean Girls, the roses would get passed out during one of your class hours by a student would would come in and announce the names of the people who received roses. If your name wasn't on the list, you got a carnation, or a "loser flower", as the students called them. In other words, Valentine's Day was the day that you got singled out for being single, or, like Cristin, if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend at another school.

When she told met his story, my first instinct was to say "Why not send one to yourself?" My school had a similar "send a flower" program, but if I remember correctly we only sent carnations. In any case, I sent on to myself every year, even if I was pretty sure someone else would send me one. One, I had to cover my bases, and two, I sent it to myself with a little note that said, "I love you, self." It made me feel good, and upped my chances of receiving more than one flower, thus making me look like the supreme Baby Mac of Hackett High.

So, today I'm going to present to you ways to celebrate this most dreaded of days without throwing an anti-party or eating a whole tub of ice cream. Today, I'm going to give you ideas for ways to celebrate without being a bitter hag about it.

Alternate Valentine's Celebrations For Single People Or People Who Are Going To Be Alone For Whatever Reason On Valentine's Day

  • Compare Thyself To A Summer's Day Write a love poem or letter to yourself. Tell yourself things you honestly like about yourself. Don't let outside opinion color your prose. If you like the way you dance, but everyone says you can't, whatever. Praise it anyway. It's not like anyone is going to read this but you. Write all of this stuff down either in a silly way or a serious way (my favorite form is the "How do I love thee, let me count the ways" format) and really examine the many things that make you awesome. It might be hard at first, because we're taught from infancy to not like ourselves (thanks, society!), but once you think of one or two things, you'll start to think of more and more!
  • Candlelit Dinner For One Order your favorite item from every take out place you can think of. Like McDonald's fries? Get a large. Crab Rangoons from Great Wall? Snag those up. Lamb Biryani from Saffron? Get it, girl, get it. Make yourself an awesome buffet of favorite take out foods and assemble them wherever you want to eat. Then, light a candle and read your love poem to yourself. Or, don't. Whatever makes you happy. The real point of this exercise is to avoid crowded restaurants and get a buffet of happiness to express your love for your taste buds and tummy.
  • Dress Up Day! Come home, strip off those work clothes, and get super glam. Find the dress you never get to wear because you don't go anywhere fancy. Or that bridesmaid dress you spent tons on and never wore. Or, get into costume. Wanna dress like a hippie? A pirate? Do you want to be a medieval damsel in distress? Find what little bits and parts of your wardrobe you can use to build a costume up. The point is, don't get into your sweats and grubby t-shirt. Go the whole nine yards. Put on make-up, curl your hair. Make yourself beautiful in a way you rarely get to see. Then, take pictures of yourself so you can go back and see how hot you looked when you did that. Or, so you can use it as a MySpace picture. In that case, don't forget the obligatory MySpace sexy-face.
  • Romantic Movies I can hear your eyes rolling. Now, I know that the last thing you want to do on Valentine's Day if you're alone or bitter is watch movies of people falling in love. I also know that this is the first thing people recommend for Valentine's Day. But hear me out: Why are most people bitter and depressed on Valentine's Day? Because they feel excluded! So, give yourself the experience of falling in love through the movies. Every woman has at least one movie she can think of where she watched it and thought, "Wow, I felt like I was in love with that hero" or something similar. For me, it's the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice. And Shakespeare In Love. Also Tristan And Isolde, The Quiet Man, The American President, Dirty Dancing, Stardust, and Gone With The Wind. And Predator. But I keep that one close to the vest, you know? My point is, if you're sitting around TRYING to be bitter and unhappy, you're going to be bitter and unhappy. Shocker. So, let yourself be mushy, even if it isn't hip. But don't watch Becoming Jane, because you'll just want to kill yourself. I know I did.
  • Buy Yourself Flowers And Chocolates I don't mean that you should try to be all sly and send yourself flowers and candy at work and act like they're from a secret admirer. No one is buying that. You can send yourself flowers and candy if you like, but be sure to let everyone know that you bought them for yourself because you love yourself and wanted yourself to have something nice. Or, you could just go to the store and buy them in person. That takes awesome confidence.

Are you sensing a theme here? Don't hate Valentine's Day because it makes you feel bad about yourself. Use the day as an excuse to feel good about yourself. No one can make you feel inferior without your permission, especially not a date on the calendar.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Ding dang, I'm a Wonder Writer, y'all!

So, I'm totally psyched and honored to be the Wednesday Wonder Writer at Brynn Paulin's blog. She asks me some really hard hitting and hard to answer questions, which I answer with aplomb. I don't really know what aplomb means, but I'm going to use it here and pretend I do.

Go to Brynn's blog and check out the interview! Wonder Writer commands it!

Monday, February 11, 2008

RIP Admiral Bridger

Hey, remember how in Jaws he said "We're gonna need a bigger boat," and then later he was on SeaQuest and the SeaQuest Deep Submergence Vehicle was, indeed, a bigger boat?

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Now we do the dance of joy!

Yeah, so, I've been an irresponsible blogger. I take responsibility for that, fully. But you don't understand the lure that is Perfect Strangers on DVD. I got the seasons 1&2 DVD set, and I've been doing practically nothing but watching Balki and Cousin Larry, chortling heartily at their antics. Oh, Balki, pink lemonade doesn't come from pink lemons, you crazy Meposian!

Since I'm not done watching my newfound treasure trove of TGIF comedy gold and obsessing over Mark Linn Baker's hair, I'm going to make Wednesday a cop out catch up day and answer some blog comments from last week at random.

Ashley Ladd asked: What is "schmecksy"? Or the program about "Bob"? I never heard of them.

Okay, Ashley, I am happy to answer your very good questions. "Schmecksy" is the phonetic spelling of the way I pronounce "sexy," but only when it applies to the really, terminally sexy. For instance, Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs, or Iggy Pop. Either of those people are examples of schmecksy. It is an imminently changeable way of describing someone, and a single individual can pass in and out of schmecksiness as many times as I choose to upgrade or downgrade them. Brad Pitt, while very nice to look at it, has been in a sexy holding pattern since 1996, but Gerard Butler maintains the title of schmecksy, so long as he doesn't say anything boneheaded or wear ugly sneakers.

As for "Bob," he is a character from Jim Butcher's Dresden Files series of books, and the television program of the same name. In the show, Bob is played by Terrence Mann, who is currently just sexy, until he gets rid of that beard he was wearing at the Pippin concert.

Tez Miller asked a lots of questions: You has kitties? Will you photograph them for us, please?

I do have cats. Three, unfortunately. Her Majesty, Fred, and George (the latter pair named for the Harry Potter twins, as they are brothers from the same litter). I would photograph them and share, but I have a very strict policy about people forcing others to view photographs about their cats. Namely, what goes around comes around, and the moment I post a picture of my cat, I'll run into someone at a cocktail party who has a 3 gigabyte memory card full of cat pictures that I shall be forced to look at.

Do you drink the Diet Coke straight from the bottle? (I'm on small glasses of LA Ice MAX, which is a rip-off of Pepsi Max, Coke Zero.) I do drink Diet Coke straight from the two-litre bottle. I have a real problem.

Re Jenism: Do we come from outer space, or from the ground, where we rise like zombies?

In the post she left this comment on I had mentioned Jenism, my made-up religion. I'm glad to clear this bit of theology up. Jenism teaches that we're not entirely sure where people came from, but it's good that they did and that one of them had the idea for TV.

Re your chair: you know when the hard rubbish collection is coming up, and people put busted washing machines and whatnot on the nature strip about a week in advance of the collection? That's when you poke through other people's junk...and maybe find yourself a better chair.

I understood about five words of all that. I'm pretty sure "hard rubbish" is equal to "large item pickup" and that "the nature strip" is something to do with pubic hair. But the important bit is that I'm horrified at the suggestion of getting rid of my chair, no matter how uncomfortable, because I don't like change. I had to buy new underpants the other day and I've been a ball of anxiety for quite a while. When we redid our basement den I nearly had to be hospitalized for exhaustion. The real kind, not the celebrity kind.

Bronwyn Green said: I think you need to bring the uglyass unicorns out of hiding and post them on your blog.

I'm saving that idea for another day when I have nothing to talk about and would rather watch Perfect Strangers.

Lori from Plainwell said:one time, i met this cool author at B&N on 28th st. i explained to her about how i kept telling my coworkers about how we were going to be BFF after meeting. and then she agreed to sign a book i was giving a friend "to my BFF's...." she laughed and was a great sport. and then when i found out she sometimes writes at "coast", i had to drive by on my way to B&N on Westnedge today, just in case she was going in or out and recognized me and had to invite me for coffee.
instead i got to point it out to my husband and tell him she goes there sometimes. he wasnt quite as impressed. what does he know?? :)

That author does sound cool. Also beautiful and very smecksy, with great taste in sitcoms. I think I've heard of her, and also seen her down at Dino's, as well. This morning, in fact.

Ha ha, Cousin Larry is so not smooth with the chicks.