Moot and Mute

Today on Regis and Kelly* Jennifer Garner knocked on the wooden chair arms when they marveled at how well things are going for her. I know that feeling - don't say that shit out loud people, because life and good fortune and even the nature of that little interview is precarious and it seems like a butterfly in Argentina can alter the order of the cosmos so that everything could change in an instant.

It seems like everyone I know has a story of someone suddenly knocked off their game. I know our summer was a detour for my family. Good things are happening at the same time as bad things and fate seems like such a crazy bitch that when things are going well you kinda just wanna hang back and not cheer too loud and when they're crap it seems best to not ask for another serving.

Grey's Anatomy returns tonight and it's the perfect example of that crazy dichotomy. Here's a show that got wildly popular and then got hung up on the craziest most BSey dumbass WTF was that imbroglio.

I have a relatively new stress coping mechanism that I'm really digging today. All day I do work on my Dell laptop. It's great because I can work almost anywhere when I need to. But this year, when business has taken off and I've been working anytime and everywhere, I couldn't help feeling chained to work. And that sucks because I love watching TV and surfing the web at night. When I'm watching Law & Order and some chick who was on shome show 20 years ago is on I am all about tracking her down on the web. But, I was stressed with the work - right there...

And so a month ago Jac gave me his newish Apple laptop and we got him a newer one and I got a "fun" computer. And what I difference it makes! I could credit the simplicity and friendly nature of Mac over Dell. I could say that my cheery white device feels more like play than the serious Dell. But really? It's the act of shutting down the office and picking up the lighter (in so many ways) Mac that does the trick.

9:00 - time for order to start getting restored in the universe for Meredith and Derek, Calli and O'Malley and the CSI team looking for a missing Sarah. It's a new season - Fall. Really the best time of the year.

*Why I would be watching that is ample evidence of the elasticity of existence.

Harman-Leachman Leachman-Harman

A little google action tells me that surprisingly few people have noticed that Rep. Jane Harman looks quite a bit like actress Cloris Leachman.

Perils of The Slow News Day

I have seen the college kid get tasered at least a dozen times in the last 24 hours - possibly more. If I have to hear him wail again I just don't know what I will do.

I have to call bullshit on "bitch" becoming an untouchable word. I'm sorry, it's just not. Words are only words, they don't earn you millions of dollars unless you write or record them and some sort of talent is involved. I understand the legacy of a couple of words so mired in history that they're unacceptable. I agree that if public personalities show disrespect for others that they don't deserve to keep their jobs. (Especially not for a whole half a season when they keep repeating the offense.) It's a privilege to have a high-profile career and we don't need to be rewarding bigots. But "bitch"? Seriously? What is next? Idiot? Dumbass? Jerk? Ass?

Recently we were all alerted to the shocking news that a kid could somehow manage to hurt himself while wearing Wheelies, those cool little sneaks with wheels inside. The press release got more traction than should be reasonably allowed by law. (I am not a bitter PR person who's stories wither on the vine.)

Got a little Breaking News (ahem) today that bumper pads in baby cribs may have contributed to 27 baby deaths in 20 years. 27 babies in almost a generation. A generation that included the 80's which was a time when nothing in the world went un-pouffed. I mean, don't get me wrong, crib bumpers are lame. I never saw the point of them anyway, but now the Plague of Crib Bumpers will haunt us for weeks to come on morning shows and web searches.

And today, HOLY CRAP PEOPLE YOUR CROCS could get your feet caught in an escalator. If your damn kid sticks its damn toes between the steps on the escalator, his damn feet are going to get stuck. See also: the time 25 years ago when my sister's flip flop got sucked into the escalator or 15 years ago when my skirt got caught. People just want to pwn Crocs, Wheelies, whatever damn cool thing they didn't make in your day because the earth had not cooled yet and so we could not make rubber.

In other news, I got caught in a mighty Geri-Jam entering the hospital yesterday. There were like 85 old people flaying about in the parking lot and they would not be passed. Then there were the ones trying to manuever their Crown Vic's into and out of astoundingly straightforward, enormous parking spaces.

Fortunately, today I made it into the hospital just in time for Slow and Loud People Walk the Halls Day at Rappahannock General. I have also discovered that elderly from far and wide go to the hospital for lunch at the cafeteria. I hope to hell it is free, because let there never be a time in anyone's life where paying for a hospital lunch seems like a good idea.

A Bientot Brinda You're Brillyent

Have I opined appropriately about Brenda before? About the wonder that is The Closer? I don't care, there's more a-comin'. Sometime during the first season of The Closer I turned it on and tried to sit through an episode. But after just a few minutes I had to switch to something else. Brenda's strong accent didn't jibe with Keira's real-life voice and I couldn't take it. I had NO idea what I was missing.

Then a hiatus hit and Brenda was there and she and her squad had dozens of unsolved cases I'd never even heard of. I am a total, complete and utter sucker for a heap of unwatched episodes of anything. One of these days I am going to discover that there have been cripes more than 15 years of Barney & Friends that I have never seen and then I will be done for.

It took me a while to catch on, but basically Brenda is the #2 of the LAPD. She gets shit from virtually everyone who somehow manages to forget in a mere 7 days that last week she not only solved the crime in 44 minutes, but she also got the mean old bad guy to confess - and cry, no less. Her staff totally did not respect her at first. And she got in trouble for not being all nicey nicey to them. Now she kills everybody with kindness, "Thank you, thank you vurry much." She purrs after barking out her orders. Brenda's got an unbelievably great guy, Fritz. And you kind of wonder what a guy as wonderful is Fritz is doing with a total neurotic like Brenda. He's all "I'm a rock." and she's all, "OMG you are never going to believe what happened at work today and by the way I'm working tonight." Even though, duh, he's an FBI agent and has plenty on his plate. She's got a boss who is shall we say, hands off, except when he has a brilliant idea or some guy on the force is backstabbing Brenda.

Although Brenda works fast, crime in Los Angeles takes no holiday. But when Brenda Lee Johnson gets stressed she takes the edge off with a chocolate confection. And sometimes? Brenda's life is just one giant CF after another. Like getting shot at, stabbed, being diagnosed with early onset menopause which can be treated with a beastly treatment called "ovarian drilling", getting engaged, facing budget cuts, and trying to buy a house. Brenda, we feel your pain. 'Cuz Brenda isn't a woe-is-me damsel in distress, she plows through it all, puts out all the fires, and gets that sweet, sweet confession.

I adore that Brenda wore garish lipstick nearly every week until a plastic surgeon slash killer told her it made her mouth look huge. I'm in favor of her inappropriate style of dress for the job. I dig that Brenda can take down a crime syndicate almost single-handedly but paying her bills on time is a monumental challenge. I support Brenda's bad hair days and bad life days and general head-above-waterness. So take a rest BLJ, I'm sure you'll need it for next season is sure to be a doozy.

Citizen Good

Yeah, she knows she's good, but who knew she was Canine Good Citizen good? And yeah, that's nice, but Certified Therapy Dog good? Off the hook! Lexi dropped in for an test to see if she could be around people with infirmities, loud running children, crowds, if she could politely meet strangers and other dogs, if she'd obey a bunch of commands, and some other things and she passed with flying colors.

After a shakey start Friday (why do work disasters always happen on Monday and Friday?), we had a nice, long, relaxing weekend at the river. There was knitting - I swear I will go photograph it NOW. We watched Blades of Glory which gets a hearty, enthusiastic, well-coiffed endorsement from Magniferous and all its enterprises. And we had black bean burritos which pretty much makes life complete, now doesn't it?

Amazon shows that Crazy Aunt Purl's book is shipping in like six weeks and it comes out the day before my birthday, and I have already ordered it so my big, bad, present to myself is a couple hundred pages hanging out with Laurie and her pets and wonderous life.

The neighbors have begun what will henceforth be known as the Ugly Intrusive Front Yard Project. We got home a little early yesterday to discover Freakazo and the Mr. assembling the rail road ties that have been sitting in their front yard all year into two rectangles which they placed at, on, or precariously near, the property line sitting just outside our kitchen window - Fie! Why do we still not have blinds on those windows? We had the good sense to cover every other window when we discovered that the neighbors' house is only for show and so they can receive mail, that they actually live IN THE FRONT YARD.

They engaged other neighbors in the construction of the UIFYP and that reduces the odds we'll be able to get the whole neighborhood riled up about the epidemic use of defunct transportation equipment as yard art. The UIFYP is likely to get a lot worse before it gets better. As daft as they are, I don't think they will stop at two rectangles (offset for effect) made out of wood. I suspect there will be plant life. Worse yet, I suspect that for several weeks to come we will have neighbors hovering below our kitchen window every evening. We'll then get to revel in the beauty of the UIFYP. Can't hardly wait, y'all.

When we lived on the richie side of town our next door neighbor was a suspected (by us) pedophile who owned a school bus and took people too short to ride this ride into his hot tub which was conveniently placed directly in our view (above the washing machine). When he wasn't taking liberties with children, our neighbor was constructing. God knows what the man made, (and God will surely punish him for whatever contraptions of debauchery they were), all I know is that he liked to make them at 7am on Saturdays and 11pm on Wednesdays. The first time I met him he compared our cats to rats and called them unsanitary creatures. And of course there were the Tree Nazis.

So we were pleased to move to our hood two years ago where we can be lulled to sleep by the whirr of fire engines and the pop, pop, pop of -- fireworks? Here, in our little neighborhood, we wouldn't be bothered by extravagantly expanding homes... Until we noticed that our other next door neighbors were building The Deck of Interminable Construction. The DIC went on for 18 months. We think it's done.