Thursday, February 21, 2008


Wow! Looking back through some of these--I should not type a batch of posts late at night. Barely legible. My deep apologies! Gomen. Also--I am not mad (well, not related to this anyway). Apparently there IS a spell check bug in Blogger. They are working on it. I thought it was my computer at home but it doesn't work here at work either. I'll try to proof read a little better.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

I'm sorry

Just went through friend's posts. I'm sorry Matt, I'm sorry Joan.

I don't know what to say. Life just sucks sometimes--more than anything.

Errata--Things I'd like to do

Spell check and proof my posts. Add good tags and group for easy viewing major topics such as book reviews, film, tv, personal, observation.

I'd also like to clean out my bookmarks and burn everything I've downloaded and make discs for friends--like good 80's alternative for Musing...

This is beyond what I should do, like make a website, set up an Etsy shop, make a portfolio.

I made a vo tape. Perhaps it is all possible after all.


Tama Janowitz is a very good writer. She just doesn't write about a world I'm interested in--because it seems so horrible and conspicuous in its consumption in the world in which I live.

The conspicuous consumption of Lily Bart's world is so distant that it is easier to be entertained, but perhaps one grew out of the other and if so, what is growing out of this?

Women I'm Not Sure I Would Like

Just before Christmas I purchased on impulse "The Maltese Falcon" mentioned below, and "Cakes and Ale" by W. Somerset Maugham. I love Maugham's style. I think "Of Human Bondage is one of the most amazing pieces of writing. I hadn't read this one so I grabbed it, even though we were moving and we didn't need more books.

Like much of Maugham there is real emotion struggling through the satire. The story is about an older writer who is asked for his recollections on a famous writer who has just died so that a hack writer can write the approved biography--approved by the surviving widow, the second wife. The older writer is Maugham, the hack may or may not be Hugh Walpole. The famous writer may or may not be Thomas Hardy--Maugham denied it. I will say that I guessed it must be Hardy before I read the Wikipedia entry for which I was quite pleased with myself. I had no idea it might be Walpole but that sort of proves the point. Also singled out for mention by name in the book is the real life person of Evelyn Waugh:
"A little while ago I read in the Evening Standard an article by Mr. Evelyn Waugh in the course of which he remarked that to write novels in the first person was a contemptible practice. I wish he had explained why, but he merely threw out the statement ... I read The Craft of Fiction by Mr. Percy Lubbock from which I learned that the only way to write novels was like Henry James; after that I read Aspects of the Novel by Mr. E.M. Forster, from which I learned that the only way to write novels was like Mr. E.M. Forster... As we grow older we become more conscious of the complexity, incoherence, and unreasonableness of human beings; this indeed is the only excuse that offers for the middle-aged or elderly writer, whose thoughts should more properly be turned to graver matters, occupying himself with the trivial concerns of imaginary people. For if the proper study of mankind is man it is evidently more sensible to occupy yourself with the coherent, substantial, and significant creatures of fiction than with the irrational and shadowy figures of real life."
I looked this up. The book came out in 1930. Maugham would have been 55 and Waugh 26. Waugh's satiric novel, "Vile Bodies," would have just come out, and he would have probably been compared to Maugham for it. (Because everything I do or see is connected, "Vile Bodies" was recently filmed as "Bright Young Things," directed by Stephen Fry (see below) and featuring James McAvoy of "Atonement" (see further below)). In 1945, when Waugh was just entering his 40's he wrote "Brideshead Revisited," and had apparently revised his earlier thoughts as it is in the first person! One other bit of trivia I found fascinating was the narrator's observation of a young man's beauty--odd in a novel 0f 1930 even by a man who was avowedly bisexual. It was still illeagal in Britain.

Moving on. The story is primarily about the narrator's experience as a young man with the first wife. She was common and slept with many men, but unlike the women below who seem surprised to find themselves in bed with men, she seems to feel it's merely a natural extension. I make you a good dinner, we have good conversation and then we go to bed, and there are no more consequences tomorrow than from the dinner or conversation--it's what I have to give. This too is alien to me--though there have been times in my life when I wish it were more in my nature. Notes on the novel compare Rosie with Molly Bloom of Joyce's "Ulysses" which I have not yet read. Forces of nature--earth motherish. And yet, I question whether these women can exist--or whether sex will always be a little bit more of a hang-up for most women than for men. That somehow there is a sorrow in the going to bed, a loss, no matter whether it is desired or enjoyed. These women are written by men, and the other kind--the ones who have the low self-esteem afterwards are written by women. But is it only because society teaches girls that an "easy" woman shouldn't be proud that they feel themselves soiled. If McCarthy and Janowitz liked themselves better or were writing novels in which the woman is not being punished, woud they write women more comfortable with their own sexuality? And yet, even Maugham says that these are not women who inspire love, but only great fondness. What good is that, then? I was never big on women's studies in college, but reading these all in a row seems to really open the door to the question. I don't think that I've really ever met a woman that comfortable with sex. Some have said they were, but the scars were visible. Most earth mothers I've met have been quite monogamous.

Undoubtedly, Maugham is a little in love with his earth mother--certainly more than the second wife who makes the house look, "exactly like the house of a writer should look." I believe this is a not so subtle jab at his own society wife, Syrie, whom he had just divorced. There is also a pointed description of a patron of literature who can make or break a writer but if the writer should disappoint is more than vicious in her own sense of personal betrayal (I thought fleetingly of Oprah here).

At any rate it's a brilliant book full of both humorous satire:

"The Americans, who are the most efficent people on the earth, have carried this device to such a height of perfection and have invented so wide a range of pithy and hackneyed phrases that they can carry on an amusing and animated converstion without giving a moement's reflection to what they are saying and so leave thier minds free to consider the more important matters of big business and fornication."

And within the satire a piece of agonizing honesty:

"It must be that there is something naturally absurd in a sincere emotion, though why there should be I cannot imagine, unless it is that man, the ephemeral inhabitant of a an insignificant planet, with all his pain and all his striving is but a jest in an eternal mind."

Girls I don't like

Don't worry. This isn't going to be a rant like that last one. This is actually about two books I just read. I've been reading odd books because I'm trying to weed things in our new place and I have a box of books that I've picked up here and there and I'm not sure if the books are worth keeping. So I'm making a point of pulling books out of that stack.

And thus I came to read Mary McCarthy's "The Company She Keeps." I have read nothing else by McCarthy, despite or perhaps because of her having written about VietNam. As she was or had once been a communist, she would have been forbidden (or as forbidden as my father got about books) in my house. All I really knew of her was that she famously said of Lillian Hellman, "every word she writes is a lie, including 'and' and 'the'," because I did read a great deal of Hellman in high school (despite her communism) and did a monologue about her. (Sidebar: The film "Julia" with Jane Fonda and Vanessa Redgrave--which would have been truly forbidden in my childhood home--is really quite awful, avoid it).

So I read TCSK. At first I wasn't sure it was a novel--it's six novellas or short stories, though loosely they are about or feature the same woman. In the first she is a young married woman who begins an affair out of boredom, it seems, and having broken her marriage then realizes she really doesn't want to marry the second young man. I disliked her horribly. I know women like this--who want to be engaged for the excitement and the fuss, but really don't want to be in the dull humdrum of marriage. Even worse is when they like the excitement of being pregnant--the showers and the being fussed over--only to realize that they will never again be the center of the universe once the child is born. It horrifies me and makes me a little sick. I almost stopped reading. The second section was so different in style--really just observing a boss she had who ran a somewhat shady antique shop--that I didn't realize that she was the same character and kept reading. Then she has an affair on a train, observes a certain type of society host (today we would recognize him as a possible queen, bitchy and controlling and yet somehow still drawing people in), is observed by another young married man with whom she has another brief affair, and finally, confesses all to her therapist.

The style very 30's/40's, could be Dorothy Parker except that the subject matter is too frank for Parker's short stories (not her life or poetry, just the short stories). It's a style I find engaging if stilted. I also recently read "The Maltese Falcon," which is nothing if not the language--my favorite being the way Hammett (Lillian Hellman's long-time and unfaithful lover) describes a character saying a two word sentence, the first word being a short imperative verb ending in "k' and the second being "you."

So after that, I read "A Certain Age," by Tama Janowitz. And it too, describes a young woman (although at 32, not so young--the certain age of the title) who drifts from affair to affair, her goal being to marry money, and lots of it. Nothing else is real or important except for that goal. She spends double what she makes--most of it on personal upkeep, and clothes to appear to be the kind of person who should marry money. Both women want marriage, and yet both women find themselves having passes made at them, and seem to accept the pass without much thought despite being repeatedly surprised by it!

I started it, put it down and then picked it up again, because I realized that it is merely a retelling of Wharton's "The House of Mirth," but while I felt deeply sorry for Lily Bart who must marry, I felt more and more angry at Florence who lives in a time when it is certainly not necessary for a woman to marry. And yet, on reflection, Lily need not marry either--she just cannot be single and live in the manner to which she is accustomed. And neither woman will settle for middle class. Both women turn down the deeply eligible, kind men in their lives because they will not be RICH. Fabulously and filthy rich. Both need to marry big money to pay off the debts they've incurred trying to marry money. Both find themselves accidently embroiled in others scandals and both find themselves taking drugs to forget and by the end of the novels are ruined. Lily is dead, perhaps accidently perhaps deliberately through an overdose of laudenum and Florence is homeless, locked out of her apt. and away from her things because of non-payment, wandering New York and yet still looking down on those who are trying to help her.

Here's what I think--these women should be smacked.

Ok, that's unkind. But I both do and do not understand these women. Sure I wanted, hoped and even sort of expected to marry money. But I didn't and I didn't pursue it. I expected to make my own money--which I also did not pursue, but that's another story. I spent more than I made in my 20's expecting to make the money to pay off my debts at some future time. Not so wise. I've bought silly things to make myself feel better--but $25-$50 worth of silly, not $500-$1000 worth of silly.

But the thing that I do not understand about these women, (well, not Lily--that would have been impossible for a Wharton heroine) is the way they fall into bed and then wonder why they don't like themselves much. Is the lack of self-esteem why they accept the cheap passes? Or do the cheap passes and their acceptance lower the self-esteem? Each time they seem surprised.

Maybe I don't understand because I've never had passes made at me. At least I don't think I have. Sometimes I wonder about this, because I am not considered unattractive. I laugh with the guys, but I'm not a Smith girl (if you know what I mean). And then I wonder if passes have been made and I have simply slipped right past them--unaware of the intent...

Anyway--I just don't get it, any more than I get or like the women on "Sex in the City." That's not a way of behaving that I have ever been engaged in. But I have known a few women like this.

I have a friend/aquaintance who reminds me of these women--more the McCarthy than the Janowitz, because she wasn't in it for the money--she had the noble cause of being poor for theater, but she did seem to drift in and out of a lot of beds. Every time declaring that she had opened herself up for love. In a horrible Dr. Phil kind of way, I could have told her that she opened herself up for excitement and for passion, but not really for love.

I can't seem to find it now, but Mirror's wife was in a play last year called "sic" and I think I posted about it, and it had the best lines about how I feel about this person:

"Well, I like her
Or I want to like her
Because other people I like like her
But the truth is
I don't like her...
But then I think Why don't I like her
Do I not like her because I think she doesn't like me...
or do I not like her because I can't relate to her intellectually
But if I can't relate to her intellectually is that because
she's smarter or Stupider OR are we in fact such
intellectual equals
that we can't recognize the intelligence of the other so
blinded are we by the relection of comparable thought
But frankly...
I don't think that's it
and anyway the larger quesiton is
Why Do I Want To Like Her...
and I have to say that I don't think I actually have Any
Interest in liking her
I Just Want Her To Like Me...
and and
of course the truly haunting aspect of all of this is that
All Of The People I Like Like Her...
At The Same Time As They Like Me
so so
Where does the true affection lie ...

I will probably keep the McCarthy and give away the Janowitz. Solely because the McCarthy is a classic and the Janowitz isn't. In truth, I should give them both away.

It hurts

I stupidly read a one-page interview with Paris Hilton today, and it actually made my teeth hurt as though I'd been sucking on sugar or ice. I really, really wish I could erase it from my mind.

Why does SNL S*@k so much?

Last week I sat down at the computer at 11:30 on Saturday night, just for a few minutes (which turned into about 45) and left the TV running in the next room, because I wasn't going to be working long, right...

So something comes on the station--and it takes me a bit to figure out what it might be--Bill and Hillary's Halloween Party (old episode, writer's strike and all) but I had realized it must be SNL by the time Barack Obama had made a cameo as himself to say the lines, "Live from NY..."

And I'm listening all the while. And nothing was funny! Absolutely nothing. Well, the host was a newscaster who's name absolutely escapes me and he sort of poked fun of himself in a monologue that was ok, but he could have been doing that on the Daily Show or Olbermann and it would have been the same.

And the audience wasn't laughing either. Oh, they cheered when Obama came on, but that's not the same as laughing. AND this is without me actually having to watch the ghastly acting with everybody keeping their eyes on the cue cards like the world might end (or their careers) if they looked away.

Now, I've never been a big fan of the show, ever. My parents never watched it because they found it deeply offensive when I was a child (as my mother always put it, "They're probably high when they write it and think it's hilarious," which was probably true), but my husband was a fan of the early days and I've seen some sketches that were funny from several of the casts. The commercials are usually pretty good.

But here's the thing. Even in the glorious first season, there are still some terrible sketches which we tend to forget because we only see the specials where the best bits of a whole season are strung together. Quite frankly I've seen better sketch comedy on a number of shows, and now it's just excrutiating.

So, why is this show still on--nostalgia? Drugs? Stupidity? I just don't know.

Hugh Laurie used to do sketch comedy with Stephen Fry. AND he's a real actor. He inhabits characters in 30 second sketches. From what I've seen, none of the SNL actors since possibly Mike Myers gets into a character in an entire movie, let alone a sketch. It's painful, and it's embarrassing. Someone put them out of our misery, please.

My Voice-Over Demo

Well, it's taken me years, but I finally did it. I finally made a voice-over demo! And like almost everything, it did not warrent the worry I put into it. I have been virtually promised work for a year by one production company if I only had a tape to show around. The work I've done already THIS YEAR for said company nearly paid for it. And yet, I hesitated because I wanted it to be "perfect," whatever that might mean. Perfect script which showed off every aspect of my voice, all kind of accents, etc.

In the end, it is a straightforward commercial tape with a little narration and a single "character" voice. No accents, no cartoons. The only odd thing is the inclusion of a poem at the end because I have already been hired to read poems, so it seemed a strange necessity--a bit of originality and differentiation. Plus it's at the end, where most prospective employers won't even hear it.

It will remain linked at the side. If/when I do a webpage--which seems more likely with my nice new Dreamweaver books and the practice I'm getting at work--it will be there as well.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Speaking of post-war Germany...

So the same week that we watched The Good German, we went to see the play Copenhagen. When we chose the movie, we really didn't think about the connection. It's not like we thought to ourselves, "Oh, let's watch something else about the atom bomb, Germany and WWII."

I'd always wanted to see Copenhagen and it was a good production. Will LeBow, Boston's resident theater God was Niels Bohr. John Kuntz, Boston's resident clown, challenged himself with the role of Heisenberg. He received very good reviews and my husband said (we saw him afterwards) that he would have never guessed that John would sound, well, like a queen offstage, based on his role onstage. I know John peripherally, but he'd recently been in a show with Mirror's wife. We actually ran into Mirror, his wife and another mutual friend at the show. Very fun, at a not so fun play.

It's about a mysterious meeting between Bohr and Heisenberg in 1941 when Denmark was under German control. Being an amateur physics geek I've been intrigued by both men for years.

The play is beautiful--an exploration of the possibilities of what they talked about, of the possibilities in every life, interwoven and tied to Heisenberg's own Uncertainty Principle (as a note--people I know who are real physicists tend to be bothered by this application of a mathematical/scientific principle onto human behaviour--I've been trying to tie Kuhn's Paradigm shift to social interaction for years.)

The one false note was Bohr's wife played by a major player in Boston theater. I really didn't think whe was very good, and that was before she fumbled and ultimately lost a line and actually had to call for line!

John was good, but Will was effortless. Sometime ago I posted about my problem with theater and acting and Mirror wrote me an email talking about how Will LeBow is terrific from 5 feet away and from 500. He really is.

Interestingly, going back to The Good German for a moment, the questions of what we must do to survive and what we owe our country also came up. And Heisenberg too, spoke as Clooney's character does, of not believing the reports of Hiroshima when they came. That it could not be possible. Partially because it was unthinkable, but also because he himself had believed he had proved it impossible--or so one of the threads of the play woulld have us believe.

And he too described going home through a devestated Berlin at the end of the war.

If the German people "deserved it" for what they had allowed, then what do we deserve?


I had a dream over the weekend that I ran into someone I used to work with and was complaining about my job and he said that when he was stressed he joined merchant shipping vessels for a three month tour. The pay was good and it was only three months. So he and I went down and somehow he was turned away (maybe don't ask, don't tell?) but I was taken (even though I'd be lucky if I could carry 50 pounds a foot) and I had a half an hour to go home (and it was close to my home) throw some t-shirts and scrubs into a bag, tell my husband I'd wire him money for the rent and I'd be home in 3 months.

Now the weird thing is that I could see my old co-worker doing something this bizarre. He was always jumping on schemes. But me?

Do I really want to leave my job that much?

I voted today!

Because of stupid immigration issues I couldn't vote until I was 29 so this is only my second presidential election. It is a good feeling. I enjoyed jury duty too.

I remember six months ago thinking--dear, God, we're going to be tired of hearing from these people by the election. And yet, getting to the milestone made it somewhat exciting again.

Betamo met McCain and Obama's people and her mother saw ex-Pres. Clinton speak but they're up in NH so they were courted. We weren't so courted.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

The Good German

I wish I hadn't heard anything about this before I went in, because having heard it wasn't very good I didn't find it very good. And I really would have liked to have. I think I shall have to watch it again in a different frame of mind.

That said, it's like Casablanca turned on it's ear. Instead of the noble Ilsa, we have the ignoble Lena. Instead of the jaded Rick we have the weary Jake. And we have Tobey Maguire playing the kind of character you hope dies a horrible and painful death. And instead of the heroic but barely seen Victor Lazlo, fighting the Nazis, we have Lena's husband, a mid-level nobody, who was as she puts it, "Good with numbers," in a postwar world where the world has too many shades of grey.

Lena does what she must to survive, to survive in a brutal, primitive place. It's so hard for us to understand today, or even, I think for older Americans to fully understand what it must be like to be in countries in the aftermath. What you must do. We say we would never do certain things, and yet, do we know that. There was book that came out last year or the year before written by or at least from the POV of a woman in post WWII Berlin. I would say that Lena's experiences mirrored those.

And, of course, the Americans, the Russians, all feel ends justify means yet punish the individual who does the same.

The performances are spot on, of course, which all depends on what you think of George Clooney, whom I happen to like. Much has been said about the cinematography. I really like Soderbergh, but all of his films look overexposed to me. While it seems appropriate for the Ocean's films, or Traffic, or even The Limey, it seems odd here. He manages to make post-war Berlin both dimly lit and overexposed.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

On a similar theme

Well, not really. I just caught a new HBO series called In Treatment with Gabriel Byrne. I wasn't going to watch, because I thought it might be painful, and it was, but he said something quite good about what therapy is supposed to be--that he (the therapist) couldn't make a decision for you or tell you what decision to make, but that he could help you figure out what was bothering you about the decision.

I'd go with that.

I have one friend who wanted a therapist to tell her how not to be unhappy after just a few weeks of therapy and quit when he couldn't/wouldn't.

I have another friend who went to couple's therapy and wanted the therapist to tell her husband all the things he was doing wrong and to tell her if she should stay.

I tried, as gently as possible, to say that perhaps they had unrealistic expectations from therapy. It really didn't take and I couldn't say any more without jeopardizing the friendship.

I like therapy. If I had more money I'd probably do it all the time. If I really need it anytime in the future I'll certainly go back.

I've had 5 therapists, I think. One was terrible and one was just mediocre. Two I loved and had for years and one was very good, but the nature of that particular therapy was that it come to an end.

If I am not entirely "healed," then it is because I was unwilling/unable to do all the work at that time. I own that wholely. I also am coming to own that there is no "healed." There is only acceptance/non-acceptance. What one should accept about one's life to enjoy it. What one should not accept and make an effort to change.

It's like the Serenity prayer only less sappy.

So I was missing some books...

My husband is going to have a drawing room of his own in this new place and so many, many books will be stashed there. He hasn't finished upacking/sorting them. So I realized I was missing a few of mine and since he wasn't going to be finishing his part anytime soon I took a look at all the boxes...

AND found all kinds of books of mine/ours that are supposed to fit in bookshelves that I have carefully ordered to fit the books I had!!!!

I was most annoyed and asked why he can be so organized and logical at work and not at home. Because he opened all of these boxes and didn't give me mine even though I asked him to pull out all of mine. And we're talking things that are clearly mine like books on sewing and cross-stitch, not things that were open for debate like children's and reference.

It's a question we've touched on many times in the past. I also know that I am more focussed at work and would never say waste an hour playing a video game or blogging before starting--because people are watching and because I have set goals and deadlines.

So why don't I do that for myself at home. Or why doesn't he? I will say that when I do a project at home I do it completely and with efficiency which he doesn't seem to be able to do.

I just got a set of Dilbert magnets and one from Dogbert was, "Dance like your in pain, love like you need money, and work like people are watching." I'd go with that.

Friday, February 01, 2008

I also recommend

It won't make much sense if you haven't seen the film (and may even disturb you profoundly), but it's really funny if you have. You probably also need to log in.

EDIT: Actually, this is better, and you don't have to log in.

Shoot 'Em Up

The morning after we watched "Shoot 'Em Up" with Clive Owen and Paul Giamatti, I watched my rear view mirror as a woman put on her make-up in the car behind me. We were stuck in traffic, and she worked on it for about 10 minutes in start and stop traffic before we got on the highway. I don't know if she continued after she got on the highway.

Meanwhile, the guy in front of me kept flicking ash out of his window with his RIGHT hand???? and finally tossed the cigarette butt out too.

And I thought, "Man, I wish I were Mr. Smith right now."

I loved this movie. Fantastic escapist fun and very, very visually clever.

Owen plays Mr. Smith a mild mannered misanthrope who's catch phrase seemed to be, "You know what I hate..." When Mr. Smith sees a yuppie (is that still a term?) take a handicapped parking spot he steals the guy's car. He runs another off the road for not using his turn signals.

Obviously I don't really believe in vigilantiism and the body count is enormous in this with no one really bleeding or dying slowly in agony (well, except for the one guy who was shot in the buttock, but he doesn't really count as he wasn't dying, just whining a lot). Realistic violence takes me apart. Cartoon violence cracks me up--and this is a live action cartoon. Mr. Smith walks away (well, ok, limps away) from things that should have killed him--and the running joke is that Giamatti's character just won't stay dead. Plus Clive spends the movie chomping on carots (and disposing of people with them--in ways I don't think would pass Mythbusters). He even finally says, "What's up, Doc?" As you may recall, I blubbed my eyes out for "Children of Men."

Which brings me to my main point. This film is the META of all metas. Unlike in my post, I don't think I'm giving anything away by talking about COM now. In that, Owen must save the last pregnant woman on earth and then she and her baby from two factions that want the baby for their own ends.

In this, Owen delivers a baby by shooting the umbilical cord (the mother is later shot) and then spends the rest of the movie protecting the baby from two factions who want the baby for their own ends. You can't tell me they didn't cast Owen on purpose. There's some serious "Sin City" references. Giamatti says something about moving "SIDEWAYS," in a way that's too deliberate to be accidental. There's even a mad taxidermist from "Pacte de la Loupe," to pull in Monica Belucci, the sort of heroine. I'm sure that there are even more references I didn't catch. Oh, and the end credits sound like the Bond theme. You know, Clive Owen, who was almost Bond...

But it's the action sequences that make it, and it's pretty much all actioin sequences. Some were in the commercials, but the one falling from a plane with parachutes have to be seen and then watched in slow motion again.

Terribly good fun. Never has a film been so literally titled.

Oh, and it has Monica Belucci in it. Did I mention that?

(Spell check is not working for me--forgive me for that too.)

The internet can suck you in like quicksand

I was looking at friend's posts and got caught up in David Seah's (which has the funniest gift giving solution ever). And he linked to Advertising Age, and I was thinking, "Oh, I shoud subscribe to that newsletter." And then thinking I'll come back to it, but I'm finding more and more that I don't come back to things, so I clicked on it then and there, and then started reading and started clicking--and had to just stop myself. You could do that forever.

I'm back. Did anyone miss me?

Sorry, sorry, gomen, je m'excuse, etc.

I had 264 posts for last year. 101 off of perfect.

Now I'm 30 off for this year. I've decided to try for 3 per week. I read a whole bunch of other people's posts about setting realistic expectations.

I added a new link under Cool Famous. He's not really famous, per say. He created my new favorite cartoon, Chowder, and voices one of the funniest characters, Fred Fredberger, on another of my all time fav. cartoons.

Wicked busy at work. (Yes, I've been in Boston too long).

I also wanted to get my house in order before I started taking time out to blog, but I found I still had time for video I should have time to write, right? I think the house will be set after this weekend--saying I keep my husband motivated as well. Or as near as d@!nit (ha ha, the computer wants that to be an email addresss, wish it was!).

I have head blogs about a lot of movies we've watched and books I've read. Some will be interesting to some people and not others. Some will be interesting to no one but me. Interestingly I had someone respond to my post on Paprika from last year, which was pretty neat, so these are my drops in the ocean. Will they ever again touch someone else's skin?

Having a housewarming at the end of the month. First party I've given in years. I've very excited. Hopefully people will come. There's nothing that makes you feel more like a loser than having one or two people come to a party. I can invite the one or two anytime. I WANT A PARTY with conversation and silliness combined.