Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Why Do You Ask?

One of the questions I dread getting most contains these five words – “What are you doing tonight?”

Why should that bother me? It’s a perfectly innocuous question. But it’s a loaded one at the same time.

My first response is, “Why?” That’s because the asker is leaving you very few options. The asker either needs your help with something you might not be interested in, or to attend a function that may not be up your alley.

So you have two options. You can ask, “Why?” right off the bat, which gives you some leeway in dissembling should you not have any urge to sit through a three-hour dance recital of children you don’t know just to keep a friend company. But it also makes you sound like a suspicious grump.

That’s okay, I can live with being a suspicious grump. Because your other option is to say “Nothing, why?” and then have to be bluntly honest when you’re asked to volunteer/attend/do whatever. “I’m not interested,” has come out of my mouth more than once during this ambush, leaving me feeling bad for being blunt and shooting down my friend’s proposal, when I could have spared their feelings or politely gotten out of said obligation by claiming a prior engagement.

If you don’t think fast, of course, next thing you know, you’re standing on the sidelines of a half-marathon, in the rain, handing out little cups of water and soaked to the bone when you’d rather be home under a warm blanket drinking raspberry tea and reading a good book.

You could always lie right off the bat, of course. “I’m meeting up with a friend,” is a safe one, but what if the proposal is something that DOES interest you? Now you’ve locked yourself out of doing this thing, and really all you’re going to do is sit at home and watch reruns of “Bones.”

You could also be wildly creative to buy yourself some time. "I'm taking the chickens to the cinema to see 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button'. They all want to know if they can go back to the egg." Or, "Aunt Mabel's socks need washing again in vinegar and pomegranate juice, so I've got my work cut out for me." Or, "Hey, the last time somebody asked me to jump out of a plane wearing a tutu, I had to say no."

Hopefully the asker will be so busy chuckling or looking puzzled that you can insert a merry, "What's up?" and get the information you need without committing yourself.

The better approach is this: “I’m doing a fundraising walk on such-and-such a date. Would you be interested in joining me?” That gives you, the respondent, the option to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t make it.” So next time you feel the urge to tackle a friend with, “What are you doing tonight?” resist – or don’t be surprised if the answer has something to do with chickens and tutus.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The Good Cat

My beloved 15-year-old cat is dying of cancer.

He was diagnosed a few months ago after steadily losing weight and interest in activities. It was shattering. I knew something must be wrong, of course, but I was hoping it was a bad tooth that could be pulled to restore his appetite. Hearing about the lump in his intestine reduced me to tears.

The diagnosis came with prednisone to shrink the tumor and give him back some life, and it worked, for a while. He ran around like a kitten for a few weeks, eating everything I put before him, and begging for attention.

He’s slowed down since then to a more sedate pace, still begging for attention when it suits him but only very rarely engaging in kittenish play. He’d rather watch me wave the string back and forth in front of him rather than snatch at it. He has no interest in feathers or catnip toys. The days of a wide-eyed yowl and a random tear down the hall, it appears, are now past.

Today as I petted him I could feel the lump in his side. And he looked up at me, as he sometimes does, as if he knows. He knows I’m grieving and he knows something is wrong with him. Is he waiting for me to make it better, to fix it, or does he understand that he has lived a good long life and it won’t be much longer now? Is he happy? Does he fear death or recognize it? So many questions without answers.

I dread the day I take him to the vet’s office for that last trip. I dread that he will feel as though I betrayed him, taking him from the home he loves, never to return, to die in a place he fears. I dread going home with an empty carrier and an empty house, full of tears and grief. I know this is the way it is – the cycle of life – but it makes it no less painful to part with the cat I’ve had as a companion for so many years.

He’s been a good cat in every way – friendly, gentle, feisty, independent, loving. I found him living under a van in a parking lot of an apartment complex that of course didn’t allow pets. I posted signs but no one claimed him and I’ve always thought they came out the losers in the deal. Of course I too had to move when the complex discovered I had him, but it was an easy choice to live somewhere else, somewhere that would welcome him.

He loves women and is suspicious of men, but will warm to them over time. He’s terrified of small children; even the sound of their voices outside sends him into an ear-pricked state of tension, and if they enter the house, he’s under the bed far away from grabbing hands and high-pitched voices.

Every day when I wake up he’s sitting on the end of the bed, and as soon as the alarm goes off or I stir, he makes his way up to my head with a chirp and a purr so loud I could put him on the phone. If I don’t move right away, he head butts me or reaches out with a paw and ever-so-gently touches my face with a paw and claw. It’s guaranteed to get attention.

He sleeps in the guest room on the bed at its head as though it belongs to him, or crawls up underneath it to sleep on a box of three-ring binders. He used to curl up in the bathroom sink because it was perfectly cat-sized and still wants water direct from the tap. Until recently he would tear out of his litter box as though shouting, “I’m lighter! I’m lighter!” before attacking his scratching post and leaving me holding my nose and calling him Smelly Cat.

Now he is thin and bony, his belly still regrowing hair from his ultrasound. Petting him I can feel every vertebra in his spine, and his hip bones poke my hand. He still purrs as loud as he ever did and still wants to sit on my lap, purring with a deep motorboat rumble, his eyes closing tightly and reopening in a sign of affection. He still wants his dinner and his breakfast, still wants a treat, and still wants catnip leaves straight from the plant.

Soon, though, there will come a day when the house is quiet.

I try not to think of that day.

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Rah Team Rah

As college football season starts, I'm pondering a human behavior that I don't quite understand. I'm wondering why you root for a school a) you didn't go to and b) whose town you don't live in.

Those seem to me to be the two main criteria for rooting for a college. It's not like a pro team - how many of us will ever play for the Lions? - because you probably paid your tuition at a certain school and maybe you went to the football games there to cheer for your alma mater and sing your fight song.

I do understand living in a college town and rooting for that college. It's hard to get away from that team and you probably get invited to games and see the memorabilia all around town and your coworkers in that gear.

I also see rooting for a school your kids went to - after all, you probably chipped in to the tuition - and maybe the one your parents or siblings went to. I have no problem rooting for the school my dad went to until his team goes up against my school. Same for my mom's school, which happens to be in the same conference as my alma mater. But I don't obsessively follow these teams, it's more like, if I had to pick one that's how I'd decide.

I think a lot of people pick a school and root for it because it wins. I admit it's hard not to pick a side in the big state rivalry. You won't find too many people who have nothing to say about Michigan versus Michigan State, whether they went to either school or not. But I also think a lot of people pick the state's winningest schools, whether they went there or had any connection or not. That seems just like jumping on the bandwagon because you can and so you never have to mourn losses, and that's what I don't quite get.

The Optimist

A tiny little spider has made an invisible web between my soap dish and my face wash. I'm not sure what he thinks he's going to catch besides splashes from the sink, but he persists. He's been there for at least a week and doesn't seem the least bit discouraged. I'm not sure how to explain to him that he'd be better off with other real estate but I'm not sure he'd believe me anyway.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Old Age Starts Here

I finally caved and bought one of those days-of-the-week pill containers. That's right, kids. I have so many pills that my purse rattled when I walked. I had to do something better.

*sigh*

Has anyone seen my Metamucil?

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Movie Review: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Note: This review assumes you've either read the book or seen the movie; contains spoilers.

Harry Potter is all grown up and the girls like him for it. Half-Blood Prince, the sixth movie/book of the series, focuses on a more mature Harry and friends Ron (who looks like he's been lifting weights) and Hermione (charmingly attractive). The petulant teenager from Order of the Phoenix is gone, and a more goal-oriented Harry is in his place, listening to his mentor Albus Dumbledore with increasing clarity.

The book focuses thoroughly on the sixth year of school - potions classes, Quidditch matches, and most importantly, hormones. Teenagers are goopily in love throughout the entire book, and the movie has seen fit to milk this for all its worth. Hermione fends off the arrogant Cormac MacLeggen and moons at Ron with far more ardor than is ever displayed in the book; Ron snogs Lavender Brown with just as much enthusiasm as in the pages. Also clear to us is Harry's crush on Ginny, Ron's kid sister, again touted much more heavily in the film than the book, sometimes to awkward effect. This probably pleases the teen audience, but when they finally do kiss it lacks the surprise and emotion of the printed moment, as well as Ron's reaction, which I was looking forward to.

The movie does make significant changes from the book in ways that didn't make a lot of sense. I get that it doesn't work to have Harry running around under the invisibility cloak much in the film - because obviously you can't see him - but his inaction in the final action sequence (you know the one) comes across as much more cowardly than had he been frozen with the Petrificus Totalus spell under his cloak, unseen to anyone and unable to move.

Voldemort is a menacing background presence but it's the Death Eaters who are front and center - Severus Snape, Bellatrix LeStrange, Fenrir Greyback, who is never fully introduced in the movie. You have to know who he is to understand his role. We are also denied the final battle at the base of the astronomy tower. Bill and LeFleur don't make any appearances, but we are treated to a scene or two not in the book, including at the Burrow - a move I'm not quite sure I understand the need for. We don't get the funeral, which I was also looking forward to, nor Harry's speech to Ginny at the end, which I think is an important one. It shows where Harry has chosen to go in the seventh book and why he's chosen the path that aims to spare her and the other people he loves from harm. I would have included that speech, however heartbreaking, because of its impact. He gives a small snippet of something similar to Hermione.

One thing the movie does is make sure the same students come back to play familiar roles. I was pleased to see Neville, Seamus, Crabbe and Goyle among the familiar faces, Neville especially having grown exceedingly tall and looking quite grown up. It's too bad they couldn't give these guys more lines but it's nice to see them all the same. Nice, too, to see in limited roles Tonks and Lupin; however, some of Tonks' scenes are given to Luna Lovegood (ditzy as usual) which made very little sense. Even though I rather like that dipsy Luna and her spectrespecs, I would have preferred sticking to the book.

That's not to say this is a bad movie, only that I made what could be considered a mistake for reading the book just before seeing the movie. In fact, many lines, especially early on, come straight from the book, which is refreshingly fun. I also think that not having read the books leaves you at a bit of a disadvantage. You're missing the supporting characters (for example, you don't know what a full prat Cormac is, you only get a hint of it) and some of the subtext (Ron threatening to kill for snogging his sister, unaware his best friend wants to do exactly that but would choose his best mate anyday). You miss the real struggle Harry underwent to get the memory from Slughorn or how he continued to excel at potions thanks to his potions book. Still, they can't do everything. Even at 2 1/2 hours or so the movie moves quickly and there's barely a still moment, especially if you know what's coming up. And as usual the visuals are stunning - a ring of fire has never looked so incredibly grand and powerful and awe-inspiring. And I still nurse a strong crush on Hogwarts itself - its Gothic arches, its dark passageways, and the touches of magic that make it so alive and unique.

Jim Broadbent does an admirable job at Horace Slughorn, who I had pictured as fatter and with a large blonde mustache - but the crystallized pineapple, which sounds delicious, does make an appearance. Then again, when does Jim Broadbent give a bad performance? Alan Rickman continues to bite off the ends of his words with a crisp relish, and Tom Felton as Malfoy (again, all grown up) gets a lot to do in this film. Knowing how his arc turns out enriches this movie, I think and his performance in it. I hope after this he gets to do some roles where he smiles instead of sneers. He'll have the girls falling all over him too, not just Pansy Parkinson.

Animals: A small bird dies.

Overall: I freely admit I need to see this one again, not immediately after having read the book. I was waiting for what I knew was coming, not settling down to enjoy it as it ran. I give it an initial 3/12 roses out of five for what it cut from the book. A second viewing will likely improve that rating.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Ding

Would you people PLEASE stop hitting my CAR with your CAR DOORS????

The side of my shiny new car is COVERED with paint dings. White, gray and green are the predominant colors. Is it THAT difficult to get into and out of your car in the parking lot when I've parked properly between the lines? Or are you just too freaking lazy to be considerate of anybody else's vehicle? Work is the main place I get hit, but the worst dings I got were in shopping center parking lots. At least one person I think hit me with his front door AND the back door. Two in one go! Nicely done. *eye roll*

One nice lady left a note, and hers was the smallest ding on the door. I called and told her thank you for leaving a note but don't worry about it. Now I'm probably going to have to see if insurance covers touchups.

*sigh*

Too Old Too Young

TLC keeps showing an ad for 'Toddlers and Tiaras' and it gives me the CREEPS. This is a show about little kids in pageants, and they act like teenagers or older with the moves they're supposed to do and the makeup and clothes they're wearing. It's disturbing. Aren't these supposed to be little kids, running around in pigtails, getting dirty?

Why are they wearing more lipstick than me?

Creepy.

Monday, July 13, 2009

The Podcast Primer

As you might know, I listen to a lot of podcasts, usually while walking on my lunch hour. I prefer podcasts that deal with favorite sports and television programs from a variety of hosts. With that in mind, I have a few suggestions for making your podcast stand out among the many on I-Tunes.

1. Production Value - Get yourself some introductory theme music that puts people in the right frame of mind. Break up your segments with a sound clip, and have regular segments so people tune in to hear the news, or the episode review, or whatever uniqueness you bring to the podcast universe. There are, I understand, websites where you can get free podcast music. Why not use it and jazz up your show? Or better yet, write your own. And use a system or program that gives radio quality sound. I don't want to feel like I'm listening in on a long-distance phone call. Great example of fun production value: The Lost Podcast with Jay and Jack.

2. Think Fan, not Fangirl - I'm with you ladies, okay? Jensen Ackles is hot. David Boreanaz is smoking. Jamie Bamber sans towel is enough to make you fall off the sofa. Or conversely, yes, Spiderman IS the coolest superhero, if it makes you feel better (actually, in my world, that's Batman, but whatever). I love fans. Drooling fangirls and fanboys can be a little annoying, especially if there's never anything wrong with the show in question and they keep repeating how HOT the lead actor is. Every show has ups and downs and the lead actor can occasionally be dorky (Apollo's lawyer haircut, anybody?). Be sure to share them all - the goods and the bads. If I wanted cheerleaders, I'd watch Heroes. Great example of perfect fan-ism: Supernatural Podcast.

3. I Am Not the Jonas Brothers - No giggling. Please? I know this is aimed unfairly at women, but I cannot take the girly tee-hee, which usually goes with excessive fangirlism. I opted out of a podcast because the two young women who hosted it kept giggling, saying "Woo-hoo" repeatedly and trying to sound knowledgeable about things they were not knowledgeable about. Sweetie, you don't say his name Luc Robi-tally, okay? Watch some hockey then get back to me. Great example of no giggling but lots of fun: The Answer Bitch Show

4. Keep It Short - I like my podcasts under an hour - 20 minutes tops if they're teaching me something. Feature films don't even go two hours all the time, why should you? That's two lunch hours to me, and if you're just chatting, it's just boring. Great example of podcast length: Stuff You Missed in History Class

5. Be Prepared - Come into your podcast with all your notes, know what you're going to say, and say it concisely. If you're partnered up with somebody, make sure you all know what you're going to say ahead of time. Don't babble or leave dead air while you wait for somebody to chime in who isn't going to or who doesn't know what the next point made is going to be (remember outlines back in speech class?). Chatting is fine if it fits the point and serves a purpose, but rambling on is worthless if you sound awkward doing it. Know what episodes you're referring to, character names, and for heaven's sake, know your actors. A really good internet connection next to you doesn't hurt in case you hit a blank. And charisma among hosts is a must. Great examples of preparedness and charisma: Galactic Watercooler; The Fringe Podcast.

Podcasting is 21st-century radio, after all. The least you can do is make it sound like it.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Rebranding - or This Ain't Your Papa's Cable

I tuned in last night to watch 'Warehouse 13' on Sci Fi channel, which is now SyFy. (Raise your hand if you want to pronounce that 'Siffy.' Me too.) Apparently the channel wants to branch out beyond science fiction to 'imagine more' or whatever the new tagline is.

And it's also showing wrestling.

So why do niche networks suddenly drop the niche that made them household names and go broad? I assume it's because they see what networks like USA and TNT are doing - creating original TV that doesn't fit into a narrow box and get success. (FX is another one I forgot to mention, and AMC.)

What are we getting instead? Not just 13 channels of generic TV, hundreds and hundreds of them!

Look, I like the idea of niche TV. If I was into golf, I would turn to the Golf Channel because I know, shocker, it's all about golf! I turn to HGTV because I want to watch home and garden-related television shows. And I turn to Sci Fi to watch SCIENCE FICTION and maybe fantasy, which I consider kissing cousins. I consider that a pretty broad genre that can show a lot of really great television and movies (and some not-so-great, like that sand worm movie they're advertising). I don't want to watch wrestling.

Nobody wants to be niche anymore because they want to attract a broad scope of viewers. I used to watch A&E to catch old episodes of Masterpiece Mystery, like Poirot or Midsomer Murders. Nowadays I couldn't even tell you what's on that station because I never watch it. I think it's a bunch of reality television. But apparently its ratings are up.

TLC, the learning channel, has stopped focusing on teaching you anything and is now focused on reality - and so has its pal Discovery. What should I wear? What should I blow up? That's about it, and I LIKE some of those shows. (At least Mythbusters includes some actual SCIENCE.) But I miss the idea that Arts and Entertainment was full of shows that might air on PBS or BBC America, and that TLC and Discovery were aimed at teaching me something.

I'm waiting for Animal Planet to drop shows about animals in exchange for another incarnation of The Real Housewives of New Jersey or wherever they're from these days. I can hear the executives now. "Well, they behave like animals, so it fits."

Somebody hand me the remote. I'm going to go read a book.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Splash

There's a pothole in our parking lot next to one of the Dumpsters that is so big, I keep seeing ducks swimming in it.

Might be time to patch 'em up, hey, folks?

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Quote Worth Sharing

"It's hard to write football without the swears."

Ex New York Giant Mark Bavaro, who wrote a book called "Rough & Tumble".

This just made me laugh.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Flight Conspiring

Why is it, when I'm destined to get into an airplane and fly in less than a month, that everything is about plane crashes??

My great-uncle just sent me an email filled with wild airplane photos. Oh look! One's underwater! One has an engine on fire! One landed on its left side! How cool!

TV shows are going episodes on planes. Bones and Leverage have both done mid-air shockers lately. Leverage's plane landed on a BRIDGE. Surrounded by miles of WATER. Because otherwise it was gonna BLOW UP.

My coworker, who likes to sign your birthday cards from famous people, made sure Sully Sullenberger signed mine. He's the guy who safely landed that plane in the Hudson River. Now, if I am in a plane crash, I want Sully in the cockpit. I just don't want to have to think about that beforehand.

*sigh*

Well, guess I'm boarding anyway. In the meantime, I'll keep the immortal words of comedian Robert Schimmel in mind. "'In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion can be used as a floatation device.' Yeah. It's a bobber. For sharks."

Monday, January 12, 2009

Stacey and Clinton's Winter Nightmare

Here's the scenario:

The temperature is 14 degrees, but the windchill puts it below zero. When I get ready to leave work at the end of the day, I start by taking off my stylish pointy-toed high-heeled boots. I put on a pair of old warmup pants that are essentially plastic to keep the snow and salt off my good pants, since, if we've gotten several inches of snow, I may have to dig out my car just to get home. I then pull on a pair of dark brown Wal-Mart work-style lug sole boots to keep my footing in the ice and snow, since Michigan's financial crisis means things like parking lots and sidewalks may be quickly plowed down to the ice or not plowed at all, and almost certainly not salted every day.

Over my nice suit jacket and shirt I wrap a fuzzy pink scarf, then I pull on a faded black hooded zip up sweatshirt (it has paint on one elbow) because my very cute and stylish black wool peacoat does not keep me warm enough to get from my car to the office and back again. When the wind blows I pull up the hood, so that I look a bit like a very short mugger.

After I pull on the peacoat (which needs its buttons sewn back on and will need replacement next year because it's fraying at the cuffs and the pockets are starting to tear) I tug on a black fitted knit cap that I call my cat burglar hat; it's the warmest hat I own. (Or maybe it's an oversized cream colored knit monstrosity that goes well over a ponytail or hair clip. My noodle is too round for many hats, I've learned.) Then I pull on a pair of battered black leather gloves that need replacing but I just haven't gotten around to doing it.

Mom and I were shopping recently and she looked at some gauzy top and said, "This wasn't made for people in Michigan." And she's right. A lot of the clothes that keep you warm aren't pretty, and a lot of the clothes that are cute simply are not practical for a Michigan winter. If I could park closer to work, great, but that's more money than I can afford. So I smiled at one episode of What Not to Wear when a Chicago lawyer defended her humongous coat and turtlenecks by saying, "It's cold." It is. Kitten heels are swell, but once you're up to your calf in snow, you've ruined them anyway and put yourself at risk for frostbite. Might as well toss them in your bag and save the leather - and your toes.

So until I win the lottery I'm going to look like I just might be homeless. But at least I'll be warm.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Regifting

In reading a CNN article today, I wondered, just how many people actually regift things?

I ask because I never do it. Sure, I have parted with things people have given me. But I've always been up front about it, and it's never in lieu of another gift - one I either bought or made. I've done it in the sense of, "I can't use this, or it doesn't fit, or I no longer use this - can you get some use out of it?"

I'm not counting white elephant gift exchanges in this, because by it's very definition white elephant is regifting. I'm talking about passing off a gift someone gave you as new for someone else. Maybe I carry too much guilt, but I just couldn't do it.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Invention

Someone needs to be enterprising and solve one of my winter health problems.

I bundle up in layers of cotton and wool and something vaguely plasticky - in the form of a pair of old warmup pants that double as snowpants when I have to dig my car out in the office parking lot. I wind a scarf around my neck and jam a hat on my hair, flattening it for the rest of the day. What I cannot seem to stop is my nose from running.

It doesn't do you any good to blow it. It's not that kind of 'run'. Just a drip, drip, drip, so that you're either sniffling repeatedly and obnoxiously, or you're digging in your pocket (with gloves on so you can't feel a damn thing) to find a Kleenex.

Somebody ought to invent the nose tampon.

Why not? You ever had a cold so bad that you actually rolled up two pieces of tissue and rammed one up each nostril to catch the drips? Come on, you know you have. I know I have. If you have a cold, after a while each nostril is so sore from blowing that you don't want to touch it anymore, but medication doesn't stop your eyes from watering and thus the tears from heading into your nasal passages. Then you end up looking like poor Steve in that episode of 'Sex and the City' where he had half a tampon jammed up each nostril to stop his nose from bleeding. The string hung out one side. He looked mortified. Might have been because he caught his ex sleeping with the hot doctor and then walked into a wall and banged up his sniffer, but I'm guessing it was the Tampax decorating his schnozz.

Look, I know it wouldn't be pretty. But it might be safer than trying to dig out a tissue while driving along a snowy Michigan road, right? And you wouldn't have to sniff, annoying your cubicle mates the entire day.

Think I'd get a patent on this one?