Monthly Archives: February 2011

So shines a good deed…

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…in a weary world.

OK, back to lamenting the hapless Browns (and the future of the NFL in general).

Mondays can be fun. I thought that thought as I picked up my broken carcass off the sidewalk after taking one step down the stairs to let Rousseau out, and going airborne. Hot shower and aspirin: breakfast of champions.

Image: New York Times

Residual horkiness

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Man, last night was unpleasant. I can count on one hand (one finger, actually) the times I’ve had to cancel a sleepover with the Js because I was too sick. Hoo eeee…the effects linger.

But I am on the mend, and ready to have Mavis over to make a big batch of veggie soup this morning. That ought to make me feel better. Then BFF Kay is coming over this afternoon. How could my day get any better, you ask (without seeing the family, that is)?

The Packers could win the Super Bowl.

But you know, the football gods are generally not on my side, so I’ll just say que sera. I’ve survived St*****s fans’ infantile postgame neenering for years (even though I’ve never returned the favor when the Browns beat Pittsburgh); I can endure it once again. Of course, I disclaim that all St*****s fans are puerile and snotty. Some aren’t. But the ones who are always seem to make the biggest splash.

Yesterday, one of my Facebook friends posted something about hoping the Packers would win tonight. I responded that I didn’t have anything against the Pittsburgh coach or the team; just their insufferable fans. The next comment, from someone I don’t know:

oh and i hate the make excuses BROWNS-who always say next year–go STEELERS!!!!

OK, OK. I asked for it. But I never said anything about hatred. *batting big baby doll eyes* Well I got my true comeuppance a few comments later, from the same person, representin’ that black and yellow mindset:

well i married a browns fan and i have 37 bin- laws who are browns and indians fans and all i ever hear is wait until next year we’ll be better–hate is a two way street you do not sound to happy with ben [Roethlisberger] –but chris spellman [sic] used to to the same thing in canto[n] ohio when he played football i saw it first hand too there are alot of players who act this way so please do not single out just big ben–and like i told my cuz this is AMERICA and we have freedom of speech and thought–sunday will prove who is the better team-good luck to all

The defense rests.

Because I know you’re curious

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And because the Grammar Hammer can only stay in the drawer for so long:

Insulted Idioms and Lambasted Labels (poor things)

  1. It takes two to tangle. No, it takes two to tango.
  2. Card shark/pool shark. Actually, if you do something like play cards or pool really well, you’re a sharp. A card sharp. I know, sounds funny. And it’s unlike a loan shark; that’s a fish of a different color altogether. :-)
  3. Extract revenge. Getting someone back for wronging you is exacting revenge. Extracting revenge would be pulling vengeance out of another person, thus putting it on oneself. Don’t nobody want that.
  4. Please RSVP. This is really picky, I know, but it doesn’t make it any less redundant. “RSVP” stands for the French phrase, répondez s’il vous plaît, which means “Please answer.” So, a proper response to “Please RSVP” would be, “All right already; ya doesn’t hasta beg.”
  5. Laundrymat. Seems to make more sense, but actually, it’s laundromat, used by Westinghouse years ago to describe their automatic laundry machines.
  6. Orangutang. Definitely more fun to say it that way, but there’s no ‘G’ on the end. OranguTAN.
  7. Get the “i” out. It’s pastoral, mayoral, electoral. Same thing with the “u” sound. Don’t say nup-tu-al; say nuptial. No need to put an extra syllable in there, as Americans are often wont to do.
  8. Upmost. Nope. You have the utmost respect for your elders.
  9. We need your imput. No you don’t. You need my input.
  10. Finally, for the hundredth time: There is only ONE ‘R’ in SHERBET. SherBET. BET. I snickered when I read this quote from Primer magazine: “This is one of those words that ultimately had to abandon its crusade for righteousness and now has been corrupted to the point where dictionaries may list the incorrect pronunciation as acceptable because of just how rampant the carelessness grew to be. But there’s only one ‘R’ in ‘sherbet,’ America. No matter how awesome the rainbow flavor is, there’s still only one ‘R’.”

Heh.

Hey, the chocolate cake is done. Time to put together an experiment in decadence before taking off for rehearsal. Happy weekend!

This is why…

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…I don’t like snow days.

  1. I get lazy. I mean it’s the last day of the week fuh cripesake, and I’m all whiny about having to go to work.
  2. It takes forever to get back into the groove at school.
  3. I get stressed out waiting at home, missing rehearsal after rehearsal. And what do I do when I’m stressed? I won’t tell you, but the sound it makes is nom nom nom.
  4. My last day of school this year *was* going to be 27 May. Not so sure now.
  5. Some of my private sector acquaintances complain about how “easy” teachers have it (but neglect to acknowledge the accompanying pay grade).
  6. I can’t get out of my driveway to go see the Js.
  7. #3.

And with the recent wacky weather, more than just schools have had “snow days,” even in places like Texas and Oklahoma. The world’s gone nuts.

But hey, it’s Finkday and all is well. At least until the next storm.

Review: Let Me In

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As many of you know, I am not a fan of horror films. The reasons vary, but allow me to quote myself on a post from back in October:

And I won’t even go into the “Ghost Train” nightmare at Riverview [long-ago amusement park in Chicago], where the train ride stalls in a pitch-black tunnel and all manner of scary creatures — played by real people — emerge from the walls, reaching and grabbing. All this at seven years old…no wonder I’m a flippin nutcake.

That said, Let Me In (a surprisingly recent remake of the 2008 Swedish film Let the Right One In) was a refreshing diversion from the dichotomous vampire tales of today (romantic/brooding, and rip-heads-off gory). In other words, a great deal of the most graphic violence is suggested; you don’t see as much of the makeup and CG gore as you might expect. There’s actually a story here, about a lonely, bullied middle school aged boy who befriends the strange girl who moves into the apartment next door with her guardian.

Sometimes slow, other times predictable (I mean, how many shocking plot twists can there be?), the movie gives ample time to the relationship between the two children, and how strikingly similar their lives are, in light of their other obvious differences. The ending is a bit stark, but satisfying enough. And of course, the little thugs who relentlessly torment young Owen get some fun treatment as well.

I’d say if you’re looking for a vampire film that will allow you to go upstairs in the dark afterwards, this is a good choice. It had enough emotional story to hold my interest, and enough fang to keep the Thriller from retiring to his office to work on a research paper.

On the Rat-O-Meter scale of five cheeses, I give Let Me In: