All Hail the Mighty Comment: Update on the Best Part of Blogging

Gentle readers,

According to my haloscan comments, we are barely commenting at 50% of our January/February '06 capacity. So as long as I keep blogging, I need you to keep up your end by commenting to the point of absurdity. Yes, even you "anonymous" who believes my dog to be having seizures. (Hey, give us some starbucks coupons next time, at least. Geez.)

Also, if you all go back to the Dark Mark post, apparently there is a lady who claims it belongs to her cousins who are HP fans to the point of absurdity (as if such a thing exists. I drink my butterbeer with pride, I do.). Of course, her name is Amy Smith, so the likelihood that there is such a one with cousins in Nacogdoches is fairly high I think. I will have to ask John Doe is he knows anything about this.

Welcome new and old readers. I love reading your feedback, but especially if it's hateful. No Shandi Finnessey-related comments lately, but with this latest mention, one can only hope those will spike again, too.

To quote Voltaire in what may seem like a non-sequitar (check that one, Red D. I always misspell it.) but makes perfect sense in my mind "Once a philosopher. Twice, a pervert."

Yes, I am awake at 4:32 a.m. I can't sleep. Maybe because I went to bed at like 6 p.m. yesterday.

Focus on the Facts

This afternoon (or was it tonight? Changing times always has me out of whack for a bit.) as I was driving home from my mom's, I tuned into one of the only available stations in Random, Texas and started listening to a Focus on the Family sermon. Occasionally, MRT and I like to do this because, you know, "keep your enemies closer" and all that. Also, it is usually moderately entertaining. Well, in this instance it was more than that. The dude started talking about patriotism and the bravery of Americans on 9/11 and maybe it was the exhaustion talking, but I started tearing up and nodding to myself. "Yes, they were very brave." This is not to say that were I not exhausted that I would be unsensitive and unpatriotic, but maybe I would have realized that this was a Focus on the Family sermon before they announced it on a commercial break. In my defense, the guy was really a tremendous orator and that bit about America could certainly have been used by anyone on either side of the political spectrum because indeed, 9/11 was a terrible, but uniting day for all Americans and it affected us all very deeply.

What he said next is when it all became very troubling. It went something like "And because those brave men and women had the will to take down the plane in Pennsylvania, you must have the courage to run down to the poll and defeat the abortion-on-demanders and the powerful gay special interest groups so that every child in America can again be without fear." And then people started clapping wildly, as if that TOTAL ideological leap made ANY sense whatsoever. Truly, the guy was a silvertongue--he really was. But I was stunned out of this kind of trance he had put me in the minute he started saying things that didn't even make any sense, outside of the fact that they were littered with prejudice.

This guy went on and on about the freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution and then seeks to use that beautiful and pure rhetoric to support a hateful anti-democratic message of exclusion and prejudice?! And no one noticed?! It pains me to think--no, to know--that for everyone like me listening, there were at least 15 people who totally got mindf*&%ed by this guy.

Later, I caught a report on NPR about how the great events of this country from the time of its founding have been framed over and over and over by politicians on both sides of the aisle (and err, this guy apparently) in speeches and so forth because it seems that clear examples in which those principles were upheld (signing the Declaration, writing the Constitution, giving women the right to vote, the Civil Rights movement, freeing slaves, etc.) is what everyone can agree on as the very best part of being American and that becomes a rallying point. And yet, so many seem to forget that at the time those changes were made, they were wildly unpopular. It was the rebellious spirit and the desire to do what is right in spite of the tyranny of popular opinion that is what makes America great. It is not because we submit to what came before and some imagined nostalgia of how life used to be good when people were not standing up in protest against assorted forms of prejudice and bigotry. It is the can-do attitude of going forward and evolving that makes this nation truly great, not resting on the laurels of past accomplishments. We shouldn't go to war just because we have. We shouldn't act like there are no committed relationships among gays just because we have. We shouldn't constantly threaten a woman's safety and security in making a life and death decision just because we have. Our country is in a crisis and it's not because what we *have* done, it because of what we have failed to do. Focus on that, fella, and your family--if it exists anywhere but your hateful mind-- will be in much better shape.

Fudge Stripes

Thank God there are only a limited number of cookies in every package of Fudge Stripes because I *can't* *stop* eating them.

SO winning this contest

Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No! IT'S SUPERPUP!

Firstdraftlandia, Population: Me

I was just perusing some of my recent posts and I was a bit aghast at the number of typos in them. Probably any of you who read this blog frequently long ago realized this but are too nice of peops to say it (though the mysterious Red Delicious, whoever ye may be is helpful at picking up on my more egregious errors, which I am quite thankful for). So I was thinking about why the blog is the perfect medium for me. Aside from nominal annual fees for bandwidth, I don't really have to pay very much money to express myself in a way that is very natural. At the same time, no one pays me for it, so I have no real pressure to make it good or edit it, other than my own occasional (MRT will say they're much more frequent) fits of perfectionism and OCD. Mostly OCD, I guess since they're never perfect.

That said, I feel a bit like I am doomed to Firstdraftlandia, where sometimes humorous, but overall mediocre and slightly odd essays live forever in purgatory. Now I don't have a real problem with purgatory since it's better than at least one other alternative, but it's not like junkie is the only thing little kids don't dream of being when they grow up. I'm certain that had I the vocabulary and precociousness to articulate it, I would have expressed a wish not to be doing the purgatory limbo for the rest of my life.

Even so, I once worked (and still do, to a very, very abbreviated degree) for a newspaper (of sorts) and though I have not expressed it outright on this blog: very early on and certainly by the time I resigned, I hated every day of it with an unparalleled amount of rage, frustration, and sincere annoyance toward my own inability to aim only slightly higher. Yes, I've said it. That job rotted my soul and leaving ti was the best thing about it.

So though a return to the publishing world (or a start in the actual one) or any attempt to re-launch that type of career may finally swing me into the realm of the dreamed of, I am absolutely paralyzed here in Firstdraftlandia, where sadly subjects and verbs disagree on occasion and errant keystrokes make their way into my meandering prose.

God, this sounds so depressing. I'm really not so pathetic. I just feel very ambivalent about something I love to do. Ain't that a damn bitch?

"Excuse Our Progress"

Don't you freaking hate signs that say this? They're so condescending. "Oh, sorry you can't appreciate the work of a true artiste even though there is now mud all over your shoes, you have to walk three miles in the rain to the temporary entrance and we will spit in your food, but this is obviously a pearls before swine situation so you can't appreciate how awesome we're well on our way to being, blind one."

Um, okay.

Why don't you just say "sorry for the inconvenience"? That will suffice. They don't have to be all "excuuuuuuse me while I go win the nobel prize and cure cancer!" I mean, seriously, we get that renovations have to be made, that peops got things to do. Just be nice, okay?

That said: excuse my progress, groundlings. Ha ha.

I am going to be working on French-Roast for the next few days (weeks? months? years?). I am really getting tired of it being in a perpetual state of not that attractive. So sorry if it comes up weird or even uglier for the next little bit. With any luck, I will get a jump on the year 2004 and this whole "cascading style sheets" fad. Oh teens!

Costume Mania

Okay, seriously, how come no one liked the kissing booth guy jokes? No comments? Nothing further to add? I laughed so hard I was literally crying and near the floor when MRT came in to join in my raucous laughter.

But more important business to attend to: only a few more days left in The Daily Sentinal Adorable Pet Costume Contest. I need to find Ms. Superpup a costume STAT. She already has the cutest pet part down. Hurry! I need any ideas that mine involve giving her false teeth or facial hair, but directed towards a general costume theme. I am especially in favor of grizzled old man eyebrows for her. Help! (Please click on "superpup" in the about me section to recall how cute she is.)

The Foreigner

Breathe a sigh of relief, fiends. MRT and I finally got out of the house on Friday night for the "Halloweird" party of Nacogdoches's own Subterranean Cinema. We met some super nice people and I *almost* won (according to one of the contest's judges: MRT) a not-your-real-costume costume contest with my disgusting neck wound that MRT created with my gel wound kit. Yes! The gel wound kit is always a safe bet. ] Of course, we almost froze to death in this crazy sub-50 degree weather, but it was worth it. (Also, it is like sub-zero degrees kelvin in my house right now. MRT, Molly and I are all under 50 blankets together shivering.) The point is, we're not going to be lone, friendless oldies in this town for the next two years. Yay!

In celebration, MRT and I went to Lufkin last night to buy our wicked-awesome simplehuman trash can (so rad!) and then out to dinner at this place called Roma, off the beaten path. Downstairs was some weird disco-club-bar thing with strobe lights and pool table and upstairs was a very homey kind of restaurant with an eye toward what I like to call "fine dinning," (note to new readers: different than actual fine dining). We started off with some caesar salads that, though not at all delicious, were worth the money in dressing served alone. Then my dinner, which *was* delicious, scalded my face off and I had to press a glass of water to it for the next few minutes. (When the manager/owner came by--a very pop of mom and pop-type person-- we told him everything was excellent.) Next, a redneck man performed the evening's entertainment, including a very misguided attempt at Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison Blues (so sorry, JC!) and a maimed cover of Joni Mitchell's The Circle Game. Then, this skinny, black dude wearing a full suit and only drinking a hurricane stood up and MRT and I high-fived in anticipation of this man's tearing shit up from our superficial and judgemental conclusion that he was going to rock our scalded faces off. (He did. We were so right.) Meanwhile, we enjoyed light banter about one of the waiter's hilarious toupee, which he was sweating off. (Yes! I love fake hair.) Upon ordering a coffee, our waiter, who was Yugoslavian, concluded that we were not from around there. We told him we had recently moved from Houston, apparently an invitation to sit himself down for a chat-- a bit more like a counseling session than a chat in which we promised that Lufkin is not representative of the best of America. He agreed "Lufkin sucks."

All of this is to say: just when we thought we were fitting in, a foreigner even recognizes us as outsiders. Blast and WTF? MRT thinks we should start ordering more fried, bland food, fluffing up our hair (especially mine), and saying things like "tore-till-uh chips." But this seems shady to me, especially when we met so many non-tore-till-uh-saying people on Friday. Of course, none of them were really from here, either. Bah. Life is strange when you're a stranger.

Movie Theaters are Overpriced Teen Playgrounds or Ladies and Gentlemen: Netflix

Let me preface this by saying that I used to be a movie-going fiend. M! and I spent three summers and Christmas breaks in a row basically going to every movie multiple times. I love movies. I used to go consistently and hit all the blockbusters and arrange for friends to enjoy the pleasures of opening night with other insane fans for movies that I was actually not an insane fan of--to wit: Star Wars. (Also, I googled "to wit" today because people always use it and I was never exaaaactly sure what I meant. Now I do--and it's etymology. I recommend googling it yourself if you're not yet in the wit, as it were.)

But, MRT and I were just discussing the phenomenon of the rapid and craptacular decline of movie theaters coupled with the very sharp increase in prices just last night. Why just a few short years ago, a student could attend cheap date night at the Angelika. Before the show, one had the option of taking in a drink or snack at the Angelika's Poseur Cafe* pre- or post-show, AND get a large popcorn and drink with the ticket, which only cost $6. The regular price was, I think $7.50. And if not taking in a snack, one could enjoy the cinematic and opulent elegance that was the Angelika's lobby. Rarely did one see a teen or at least, an angsty one.

Today, the aging Angelika is in total disrepair. The place stinks and is usually overcrowded by teens with bad dye jobs and unfortunate piercings. There is no more Poseur Cafe. There is no lobby elegance. I don't even know if cheap date night exists, though if it did, it would be a lie because the ticket price there is at least $10.50 last time I checked.

And every place else is worse!

Sure, you can go to the Edwards and pay $4 for parking, only to find out that every teenager in West U or Bellaire has pooled their parents considerable resources to buy out every show for the next six days. And while they wait for their show, their painfully short/tight attire reveals an ungodly amount of non-attractive, overpampered, overmanicured, but still fatty flesh as they recline in all manner of poses, enjoying ice cream or just "hangin'." The main lobbies teem with angst. Oh the humanity! And on top of that, IF you get a ticket to show, it will probably be $15 on top of your parking, which it took you approx. 12 minutes to find. And don't even get me started on "The Twenty," which is spelled like 20enty, as if that's some kind of accepted abbreviation--or as if 20 on its own wasn't twenty. I mean twenty-enty? That's just not right. And let's face it, the twenty-enty is a 20 minute infomercial where you don't even learn how to cook a rotisserie chicken. A raw deal indeed. (I got myself started. Eep.)

And if all this isn't bad enough: there aren't even any good movies playing usually. MRT and I were excited to attend movies here. There was a new 12-screen cinema with ample parking and reasonable ticket prices in Lufkin. And because they weren't Edwards, or whoever owns Edwards (Regal?) there would be none of this twentyenty business. But we pulled up to the front only to learn that they were playing Jackass 2 on all screens. Well, not really, but all the shows may as well have been Jackass 2 because they all sounded equally stupid. It was so disappointing, as we had not been to the movies in months.

So now, we have netflix. MRT and I see all the movies we want, at our convenience and without teens. Sure, you don't get to see things right away, but it's not like I could ever see things right away in Houston without putting up a considerable fight. I will make a return to the movies someday, but there's just not a whole lot to recommend the whole scene right now.

In conclusion, I hope my future kids never become teenagers. I want them to go from 12 to 25, if possible.

P.S. The only exception to this madness is Alamo Drafthouse which goes to a mean extent to place that oasis out of reach of inner loop Houstonians. I mean TWO of them in Katy? That's cruel. But the ones in Austin, especially any featuring the Sinus show are highly, highly, HIGHLY awesome and exempt from my crankiness. (Hakuna matata, dudes.)

*not the real name of this establishment

Senior Discount

I was just reviewing my alumni bulletin regarding homecoming weekend and I noticed that the first item on the agenda was the Class of 1926 Golden "R" Luncheon, with the next item being the Class of 1931 Golden "R" Luncheon.

So let's just say for the sake of the good old days that this class of 1926 was composed primarily of 20-year-olds. That was EIGHTY MF years ago. What is the likelihood that so many centegenarians 1) are still alive? 2) can still use their eyes? 3) have the interest to read the alumni bulletin/ consider attending homecoming festivities? I don't even go and I am an able-bodied young person who lived in the area for multiple years post-graduation. Of course, one must not discount cranks like me from this group. Surely there are more of them as they age--and they've had quite a bit of time to do just that.

So now let me address the next thing, which is the Class of 1931 luncheon being next. Now, I realize that the reunions are for people with class anniversaries ending in 0 or 5, but can we just bend the rules for a sec? I mean, are they really worried that some rowdy alumni from the Class of '28 might come in and crash their peaceful kegger or cause the number of guests to skyrocket? At this point, I think if you're like 1000 years old, you should be able to attend whatever you want.

Maybe they should start the bulletin with: "Open call for anyone who is exceptionally old to attend alumni festivities. Seriously, we know the boomer generation is retiring, but how many truly deteriorating seniors can there really be? not enough to put a damper on our alumni fun! WOO!"

But again, I obviously don't attend alumni festivities. Maaaaybe I will though when it's time for my 80th reunion. All the other oldies and I can high five each other for still living. If we still have hands. And Al Gore's doomsday premonition has not come to pass. And if we're not all living on the moon personal jet-packing around. I will say this: I am going to be a menace of an oldie with a personal jetpack.

P.S. I can't believe this! They're charging the oldies $25 at the door for their golden R luncheon. How much can creamed corn and strained spinach cost? In their heyday, $25 was like a MILLION dollars. That just doesn't seem right. I believe if you're old enough to be invited, you're old enough to go for free (or pay the 1926 price which would be like, what, a nickel?). MaryT for President.

I Have Used Powerpoint, Too, Al!

Last night, MRT and I shuffled into an overcrowded student auditorium at SFA for a special screening (sponsored by the Geography and Sociology Clubs) of Al Gore's doomsday special An Inconvenient Truth, which I was ashamed to admit I had not yet seen, despite my environmentalist leanings.

My first thought as we were jostled along by a cadre of teens in skinny jeans (though not all the wearers were as svelte as the fashion items, if you know what I mean) was that some professor was offering extra credit for attendance at this event, which was otherwise peopled by graying stoners of yesteryear, clad from head to toe in hemp. (I fear I glimpsed my future as the haggard woman who only ever made it to Austin, Texas in spirit.) MRT assured me that this notion was one of my regular bursts of cynicism. Fine then. On with the show.

For those who have not seen An Inconvenient Truth, allow me to encourage you to go for the very real, if depressing and somewhat technical facts the film presents. I have always liked Al Gore, too. Yet let me also state that the film was woven of strange snippets that together made very strange bedfellows. Basically, between uncomfortable jokes about how Al Gore did and did not win the 2000 Presidential Election, a bildungsroman of sorts featuring photos of young Al on the farm and at Harvard, was Al either on a stage giving a powerpoint presentation, or Al sitting at a desk in some international locale doing impromptu ads for both Macintosh powerbooks and Microsoft Powerpoint. In fact, I think everyone in the audience would have been put at ease if Al had just said "Hello, I'm Al Gore. I'm not the president, but I do have an important message and now that I adept at powerpoint on this Macintosh, I will present it to you. Here it is. [Slide one jazzily flashes into place.]"

MRT found the occasional political spots intrusive, but I think had they not been in there, a lot of people would have just been like "Big deal. I have used powerpoint, too. Who's this yahoo so committed to our demise? What about terrorism and Sa-damn?"

It was a very devastating film, overall, until Al gave his whole "America is awesome and so is the constitution" rally speech. That was quite nice, actually. And do you know what was even nicer?

As the film's credits concluded, a professor went to the front of the auditorium and announced that there were sign-in sheets available for those who had attended for extra credit. OH! Boo-yah MRT!

P.S. One thing I had either forgotten or needfully blocked out about college was Murphy's Law of B.O. If someone in the room has very strong B.O., he/she will inevitably be sitting next to you. I refer now, not to MRT who smartly took the aisle, but to the young woman to my right, who also hogged the arm rest. Blech. According to MRT (who is now chiming in) she also hogged "the boob rest" and "the rhinoscape." I do not know what he is talking about or at least I will pretend not to.

Howl-o-ween Indeed

Normally, when Halloween comes around each year, I like to make endless commentary about stupid costumes. This year though, the kind folks at Something Awful did it for me and thanks to Pinky von Megwhit, I am sharing it with you: here.

Don't believe it's worth clicking? I know how you feel. I was a skeptic myself until I started crying from laughing so hard.

Here's a free sample.



Dr. Thorpe: The way his face is framed by those curtains, it just looks like a giftwrapped invitation to punch him in the face.

Zack: Yeah, if I saw this dude at a party I would definitely surreptitiously stick a sign on the front that covers the word "kisses" with "punch me." You just want to break something sharp off in his skull.

Dr. Thorpe: Wouldn't it be amazing if someone shot him in his face, and then the coroner came and declared him dead on the scene and instead of putting a body bag over him, he just drew those little red curtains over his face? They could bury him in that thing instead of a coffin. It would be like a closed-casket funeral if they just left the curtains shut.

Happy Howlidays!

Hi friends!

I am, at this very moment, in the process of making an iTunes playlist called "Halloweenie!" As most of you know, I just love all holidays (especially my birthday), and I really like to celebrate all holidays with friends. My traditional Halloween festivities usually involve mulled wine, cider, a pumpkin carving, a viewing of The Nightmare Before Christmas and an evite involving the word Spooktacular!

But this year is different. Last night, MRT and I went to Target and I got very enthusiastic in the Halloween aisles, eyeing the candy corn and thematic popcorn and treats and macabre (and spooktacular!) decor. Then I sighed, thinking about my Halloween party that wouldn't be, and made a wish to get some local friends. (Though I obviously heart my non-local peops tremendously and my annual pumpkin carving is absurdly spooktacular, I can't expect peops to trek to Nac for such an event.)

The upside is that the weather is at least appropriately spooktacular, if perhaps a tad too warm. It has been raining since noon yesterday--that's 24 solid hours of drearily awesome Fall weather. And to top it off, one of my neighbors has been very cooperative about barbecuing so that that perfect smoky flavor is in the air. I can't say who it is exactly, but I am willing to bet it is not the car wash, which has not upgraded to any type of spooktacular festiveness.

And while we're on the topic of holidays, let me reiterate my annoyance towards Columbus day. Jen hit is squarely on the head when she noted that it might be a worthwhile holiday if she actually got the day off--but she doesn't. Who gets the day off? Postal workers and banks, which are basically closed ALL the time anyway. Boo hoo. I feel so sorry for the poor bankers who go home at 4 p.m. every day.

So there's that. Then there's the fact that Columbus didn't do anything that's that big of a deal. Sure he "discovered" America, but do you think we still might not have heard of it if CC wasn't such a greedy bastard? Unlikely we'd all still be hitchhiking the silk road, peops. Even though most people don't get arbor day off, it's hard to resent lovely trees, you know? But Columbus day is worthless. We'd be much better off with a national holiday celebrating this guy.



Yes, I propose Columbo Day in 2007. That would be spooktacular. Easy there, Tiger. I'm out of blogging practice.

Party Pooper

I was just checking over my evite for my housewarming next month and I was sort of slapped in the face with the realization that remaining the hostess with the mostess is slightly more challenging when you move outside the loop. My evites were always bordering on something absurd like 95-100% yes responses by the time I left Houston's distinguished inner loop. In fact, they were that high for a party I never even actually held. Have I lost my stuff? Non. I have just become a high mileage friend (no kidding: I have put 6,000 miles on my car since July. There was a time when I barely put that many on annually!)

I mean, Sugar Land or Clear Lake would be bad enough, but when you add about 100 miles to that, you're looking at possibly no friends. Actually, that's not true. MRT and I went out with a very nice friend of his from school and his girlfriend and had a perfectly cordial dinner. The thing is, they told us their ages of 19 and 20 and I felt like a buffoon. However, I like them and will invite them over. That still leaves a huge friend deficit though, especially insomuchas I prefer friends that I will not be corrupting when I offer my Christmas eggnog brew. What do you think friends: is bribery in the cards?

I swear I will give the next person who comes to visit us overnight a Rolls Royce with a driver!*

*Restrictions apply, like the fact that I will not actually give you a Rolls Royce or a driver for it. I will drive you around in the Mazda though!

I think Columbus Day is stupid, but I am too tired to say so

I have this whole thing I wanted to write earlier about how I think Columbuys Day is very stupid and so forth, but blogger wasn't working. But now that it is working, I'm ready for bed. I am so, so tired peops. The wedding was wonderful, lovely, and amazing and I have lots to exclaim about. But again, sleepytime. The whole thing wore us out like a crazy mofo. I don't even know how peops go on a honeymoon right away. They probably spend the whole time napping. Er, yeah. So tomorrow, Columbus day. The day after, something really exciting?

Love,
Mary T

Holy Sacred Union, Batman!

I'm getting married tomorrow.

Wowsers.

In the meantime, I'm going to need a bagel. Where are you, breakfast delight?