No, two years! No, ever!
The Plaza Hotel has closed. So we'll have to look elsewhere for our forthcoming High Tea excursion in New York.
WOTD: insouciance
|
insouciance n. (in-SOO-suhnce)
1. lighthearted unconcern : NONCHALANCE
As in: Kramer's insouciance during a poker game about the AIDS walk the next day may have subesequently led to his demise as his continued attitude angered the ribbon bully at the AIDS walk check-in and additionally angered the "armoire bullies" during the walk itself.
1. lighthearted unconcern : NONCHALANCE
As in: Kramer's insouciance during a poker game about the AIDS walk the next day may have subesequently led to his demise as his continued attitude angered the ribbon bully at the AIDS walk check-in and additionally angered the "armoire bullies" during the walk itself.
Mrs. Make It Worse
|
I've decided to take my husband's name after all.
I was on my out the door this morning when a distinctive chirp emanated from the upper bowels of my soaring cathedral ceiling. Then another. And another. About a minute apart. I craned my neck and stared up at the insideous device. No it wasn't a bird, or a plane, or Superman, although in retrospect I could have saved some sanity points and just called the caped super hero direct, but how hard could it be to replace the battery in a smoke alarm, right?
My first challenge was to find a way to get to it. Chirp! It's attached to the ceiling directly above the last two top stairs that lead up to the loft. I was going to need a ladder. A crooked ladder. Chirp!
Later at work, when I remembered that I had a chirping bird in my ceiling and I was agonizing out loud to my good friend Dave about how the H.E. double hockey sticks am I gonna get up there, he offered to bring over his crooked ladder. He had this fancy thing that can be set up on stairs.
So when I get home and see that the bird has been run out of air, I debate as to whether or not Dave should still come over. He's tired and I really dont' feel like dealing with it, but we both know that if he doesn't come over it will find a second wind about 2am.
30 minutes later, I'm standing precariously under a smoke alarm whose battery has been replaced, but has completely dislodged itself from the ceiling with no hope for reattachment, and is now hanging by one wire with another wire that has lost contact with wherever it belongs with no hope of being reconnected.
Dave is laughing with nothing less than diabolical cynicism.
So there's one more thing to add to the list for the handyman when I have a moment in my copious amount of spare time to call one.
{SIGH!!!!!!!!!!!}
I was on my out the door this morning when a distinctive chirp emanated from the upper bowels of my soaring cathedral ceiling. Then another. And another. About a minute apart. I craned my neck and stared up at the insideous device. No it wasn't a bird, or a plane, or Superman, although in retrospect I could have saved some sanity points and just called the caped super hero direct, but how hard could it be to replace the battery in a smoke alarm, right?
My first challenge was to find a way to get to it. Chirp! It's attached to the ceiling directly above the last two top stairs that lead up to the loft. I was going to need a ladder. A crooked ladder. Chirp!
Later at work, when I remembered that I had a chirping bird in my ceiling and I was agonizing out loud to my good friend Dave about how the H.E. double hockey sticks am I gonna get up there, he offered to bring over his crooked ladder. He had this fancy thing that can be set up on stairs.
So when I get home and see that the bird has been run out of air, I debate as to whether or not Dave should still come over. He's tired and I really dont' feel like dealing with it, but we both know that if he doesn't come over it will find a second wind about 2am.
30 minutes later, I'm standing precariously under a smoke alarm whose battery has been replaced, but has completely dislodged itself from the ceiling with no hope for reattachment, and is now hanging by one wire with another wire that has lost contact with wherever it belongs with no hope of being reconnected.
Dave is laughing with nothing less than diabolical cynicism.
So there's one more thing to add to the list for the handyman when I have a moment in my copious amount of spare time to call one.
{SIGH!!!!!!!!!!!}
LBR: Motorcycle Diaries
|
You know how you learn about someone famous or infamous and you think, "Jeez I hardly ever heard of this guy. And he did all that?" And you mention him to other people and they go, "Oh yeah, the Cuban revolutionary?"
Am I the ONLY person who until recently was totally clueless about Ernesto Che Guevara?
Motorcycle Diaries isn't exactly about the revolutionary Che. It's about the freewheeling, freeriding, freeloading Che who wrote about his trip all over South America as a medical student. A charming young man, not a US hating virtual terrorist.
As much as I read and have this desire to know everything, I have these huge gaping holes in my repertoire.
And only one life to live. So many books. So little time.
Am I the ONLY person who until recently was totally clueless about Ernesto Che Guevara?
Motorcycle Diaries isn't exactly about the revolutionary Che. It's about the freewheeling, freeriding, freeloading Che who wrote about his trip all over South America as a medical student. A charming young man, not a US hating virtual terrorist.
As much as I read and have this desire to know everything, I have these huge gaping holes in my repertoire.
And only one life to live. So many books. So little time.
WOTD: ignominious
|
ignominious - adjective (ig-nuh-MIN-ee-us)
1 : marked with or characterized by disgrace or shame : DISHONORABLE
2 : deserving of shame or infamy : DESPICABLE
3 : HUMILIATING, DEGRADING
As in: Fearing an ignominious day at the office after making out with a co-worker at a party, and desperate to avoid a label of "office skank", Elaine devised a plan to tell everyone that he was her boyfriend.
1 : marked with or characterized by disgrace or shame : DISHONORABLE
2 : deserving of shame or infamy : DESPICABLE
3 : HUMILIATING, DEGRADING
As in: Fearing an ignominious day at the office after making out with a co-worker at a party, and desperate to avoid a label of "office skank", Elaine devised a plan to tell everyone that he was her boyfriend.
LMR: Beauty Shop
|
I liked this movie for several reasons.1. It went beyond the simple comedy movie with more than one story line.
2. It went beyond the simple comedy movie with more than just sight gags or physical humor.
3. It presented a good message for girls, that using sex is not the way to feel good about yourself.
4. I may offend all my African American readers out there, but part of the reason I liked this movie was because it wasn't afraid to admit that some black people have chips on their shoulder.
5. Queen Latifah is just plain fun to see on the screen.
I'm not gonna to say you HAVE to see this movie, but if you liked Barber Shop, and can watch a movie with a predominant cast of women, then you'll probably enjoy this one too.
Extras:
Kevin Bacon as a flaming crappy-haired faux Austrian stylist.
I didn't recognize Keisha Knight Pulliam (little Rudy Huxtable from the Cosby Show) until I saw the credits later, but maybe you will.
WOTD: miasma
|
miasma n. (my-AZZ-muh)
1. a vaporous exhalation formerly believed to cause disease; also : a heavy vaporous emanation or atmosphere
2. an influence or atmosphere that tends to deplete or corrupt.
As in: George was raised in the miasma of Costanza, which goes far to explain his dysfunctional personality.
1. a vaporous exhalation formerly believed to cause disease; also : a heavy vaporous emanation or atmosphere
2. an influence or atmosphere that tends to deplete or corrupt.
As in: George was raised in the miasma of Costanza, which goes far to explain his dysfunctional personality.
Correction: WOTD
|
The editors of Nanny Goats in Panties wish to sincerely thank Anonymous for pointing out an egregious error with the use of a WOTD: retinue in a sentence. Apparently George did not date a retinue of NBC, but, in fact, a member of the retinue of NBC. Thanks, Anonymous!
Lost Identity
|
Losing your identity in a post 9/11 world is an unfortunate event that can wreak havoc, induce large amounts of stress, and test one's resolve.
Last week, I traveled to Jersey City, New Jersey for business, hence the long silence on my blog. It was going to be a fabulous trip. I would fly first class, stay in Manhattan at a 4 star hotel, go in to work each day on the subway, a small taste of living the life of a New Yorker. Well, the subway part anyway.
What could possibly go wrong?
I flew in on Monday and on Tuesday morning I reported to my first day of work in the Jersey City office located in a building requiring special security access. No problem, they'll just issue me a day pass every day. All I have to do is go to the building reception desk, present my ID and get the day pass. And that would have been great except that I couldn't find my driver's license. But I'd done a lot of switching of bags taking stuff out of my travel bags and putting them in to work bags. I must have left it in the hotel room. Could I run back to my hotel and get it? No, because I chose to stay in Manhattan instead of the hotel next door (which I was told was sold out anyway). Luckily, a co-worker had accompanied me on my first day and vouched for me and I was given a day-pass.
Late that evening I returned to my hotel room and could not find my driver's license. While it would be inconvenient to get into the work building each day as I would have to present an ID, it would be a little more than inconvenient when I would have to present a form of ID at the airport on Friday.
It was already 11pm and I should have been going to sleep, but I spent the next 2 or 3 hours on the phone with various people including my husband who also spent the next 2 or 3 hours initially telling me I was fucked (I think he was more excited about it than I was - he also told me I was screwed) then following up with what I can only describe as heroic assistance.
I went in to work on Wednesday after very little sleep worried that I wouldn't be able to get into the building. I presented my previous day's pass and luckily the same woman recognized me and just issued me another pass.
My husband had looked all over the place the night before looking for my passport, but only found the expired version. I had my neighbors check a couple of places in my house in L.A., but to no avail. We tried to find out what would happen if I just showed up at the airport without an ID. Different people had different stories. one friend had managed to get on with an expired student ID and birth certificate. TSA said that you could bring whatever documents you could find and it's up to the mood of the security people that day whether they would let you in. DMVs website stated it would take 3 to 4 weeks to get a duplicate driver's license. So we figure he'll send me a marriage certificate, a piece of unopened mail showing my address, my last social security statement, another credit card and whatever else may help.
Surely I'm not the only person this has happened to? And what did those people do? And did I also mention that I forgot my cell phone charger and my cell phone battery was beginning to run low because I thought I had charged it up before I left when in fact I had plugged it into the wrong socket so I left for New Jersey with a half charged phone?)
In any event, my husband somehow got in to the personal family emergency line at the DMV and explained the situation and put me in touch with this woman who took my credit card number and the address of my hotel and would FedEx a photocopy of my driver's license. I also discovered that my Jersey City comrades all carried around photo IDs (the very ones I didn't have and therefore had to get a day pass!). I shared my plight with my boss that afternoon during a meeting and asked about their photo IDs because in the flurry of research calls the night before it was suggested that any photo ID would help. I couldn't get a week-long pass from the secretary because ("we don't do that anymore"), but there I was on my way downstairs to the security office now getting a permanent photo ID pass.
I experienced some relief when I found a package in my room on Wednesday night that contained my cell phone recharger, thanks to the valiant efforts of my husband and UPS.
On Thursday evening there was no package in my room so I went down to the concierge who looked in her little log book and said they hadn't received anything. Crap! Then I noticed a voice mail on my cell phone.
"Hello, this is the Department of Motor Vehicles and we're processing your license request, but can you call us back because the girl you talked to yesterday isn't in today and let us know if you wanted another copy faxed because the last FedEx drop off is at 4pm today."
AUGHHG!! It was already after 6pm in California. They were supposed to send it yesterday and now they might not even have sent it today? There's no way I'm getting this package now. I have to go to the airport at 3pm, so unless it's delivered in the morning, I am what my husband so eloquently stated: fucked.
Friday morning before going in to work, I go to the hotel concierge and ask them about their FedEx delivery times. She thought it was around 10am and 4 or 5 pm, maybe later. I gave her my cell phone number so she could call me if it arrived. I had planned on hauling my bags to work in Jersey City because it's much closer to the Newark airport than my hotel in Manhattan, but so much for that. So I leave my bags with the bell man for the day and head into work. I decide as I'm standing on a crowded rush-hour subway train (1 of the 3 that I've had to travel on each morning) that it's not all that worth it to stay in Manhattan if I'm working in Jersey City. I haven't even seen the city while I've been here anyway. It's been all about work and photo IDs.
I'm sitting at my desk when my cell phone rings at 10:30. It's the concierge. My package has arrived. Woo Hoo! I leave the office about 1pm, take the subway(s) back to the hotel and pick up my package. I sit in the lobby and open the FedEx envelope. I wasn't sure what to expect or if this photocopied thing would pass for something offical or acceptable by TSA? Well, this thing was accompanied by a letter from the DMV stating it's purpose. The thing itself was an 8x11 enlarged version of my driver's license with an official red stamped seal and signatures and some wording about how this is valid for travel only and it expired in a couple of weeks.
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.
I repacked my work bags into my travel bags and headed for the airport, changing into my comfy traveling pants on the way (it was a black towncar with shaded windows and a female driver, so what the hell?) I walked right up to the security checkpoint and pretended to confidently know what I was doing handing the guy this 8x11 sheet of paper as he kept asking for a photo ID until he saw this giant driver's license staring him in the face. I don't know if he hesitated 8 nanoseconds or 10 nanoseconds before he let me through.
So now since this thing expires soon, I have to get down to the DMV for a duplicate license and find my real passport because I still need to get on an airplane every week for my normal LA/Sacto commute. With any luck, I'll have it before my trip to New York next month. I'm staying in Manhattan again, but this time, it's all vacation and New Jersey won't even know I'm there.
Last week, I traveled to Jersey City, New Jersey for business, hence the long silence on my blog. It was going to be a fabulous trip. I would fly first class, stay in Manhattan at a 4 star hotel, go in to work each day on the subway, a small taste of living the life of a New Yorker. Well, the subway part anyway.
What could possibly go wrong?
I flew in on Monday and on Tuesday morning I reported to my first day of work in the Jersey City office located in a building requiring special security access. No problem, they'll just issue me a day pass every day. All I have to do is go to the building reception desk, present my ID and get the day pass. And that would have been great except that I couldn't find my driver's license. But I'd done a lot of switching of bags taking stuff out of my travel bags and putting them in to work bags. I must have left it in the hotel room. Could I run back to my hotel and get it? No, because I chose to stay in Manhattan instead of the hotel next door (which I was told was sold out anyway). Luckily, a co-worker had accompanied me on my first day and vouched for me and I was given a day-pass.
Late that evening I returned to my hotel room and could not find my driver's license. While it would be inconvenient to get into the work building each day as I would have to present an ID, it would be a little more than inconvenient when I would have to present a form of ID at the airport on Friday.
It was already 11pm and I should have been going to sleep, but I spent the next 2 or 3 hours on the phone with various people including my husband who also spent the next 2 or 3 hours initially telling me I was fucked (I think he was more excited about it than I was - he also told me I was screwed) then following up with what I can only describe as heroic assistance.
I went in to work on Wednesday after very little sleep worried that I wouldn't be able to get into the building. I presented my previous day's pass and luckily the same woman recognized me and just issued me another pass.
My husband had looked all over the place the night before looking for my passport, but only found the expired version. I had my neighbors check a couple of places in my house in L.A., but to no avail. We tried to find out what would happen if I just showed up at the airport without an ID. Different people had different stories. one friend had managed to get on with an expired student ID and birth certificate. TSA said that you could bring whatever documents you could find and it's up to the mood of the security people that day whether they would let you in. DMVs website stated it would take 3 to 4 weeks to get a duplicate driver's license. So we figure he'll send me a marriage certificate, a piece of unopened mail showing my address, my last social security statement, another credit card and whatever else may help.
Surely I'm not the only person this has happened to? And what did those people do? And did I also mention that I forgot my cell phone charger and my cell phone battery was beginning to run low because I thought I had charged it up before I left when in fact I had plugged it into the wrong socket so I left for New Jersey with a half charged phone?)
In any event, my husband somehow got in to the personal family emergency line at the DMV and explained the situation and put me in touch with this woman who took my credit card number and the address of my hotel and would FedEx a photocopy of my driver's license. I also discovered that my Jersey City comrades all carried around photo IDs (the very ones I didn't have and therefore had to get a day pass!). I shared my plight with my boss that afternoon during a meeting and asked about their photo IDs because in the flurry of research calls the night before it was suggested that any photo ID would help. I couldn't get a week-long pass from the secretary because ("we don't do that anymore"), but there I was on my way downstairs to the security office now getting a permanent photo ID pass.
I experienced some relief when I found a package in my room on Wednesday night that contained my cell phone recharger, thanks to the valiant efforts of my husband and UPS.
On Thursday evening there was no package in my room so I went down to the concierge who looked in her little log book and said they hadn't received anything. Crap! Then I noticed a voice mail on my cell phone.
"Hello, this is the Department of Motor Vehicles and we're processing your license request, but can you call us back because the girl you talked to yesterday isn't in today and let us know if you wanted another copy faxed because the last FedEx drop off is at 4pm today."
AUGHHG!! It was already after 6pm in California. They were supposed to send it yesterday and now they might not even have sent it today? There's no way I'm getting this package now. I have to go to the airport at 3pm, so unless it's delivered in the morning, I am what my husband so eloquently stated: fucked.
Friday morning before going in to work, I go to the hotel concierge and ask them about their FedEx delivery times. She thought it was around 10am and 4 or 5 pm, maybe later. I gave her my cell phone number so she could call me if it arrived. I had planned on hauling my bags to work in Jersey City because it's much closer to the Newark airport than my hotel in Manhattan, but so much for that. So I leave my bags with the bell man for the day and head into work. I decide as I'm standing on a crowded rush-hour subway train (1 of the 3 that I've had to travel on each morning) that it's not all that worth it to stay in Manhattan if I'm working in Jersey City. I haven't even seen the city while I've been here anyway. It's been all about work and photo IDs.
I'm sitting at my desk when my cell phone rings at 10:30. It's the concierge. My package has arrived. Woo Hoo! I leave the office about 1pm, take the subway(s) back to the hotel and pick up my package. I sit in the lobby and open the FedEx envelope. I wasn't sure what to expect or if this photocopied thing would pass for something offical or acceptable by TSA? Well, this thing was accompanied by a letter from the DMV stating it's purpose. The thing itself was an 8x11 enlarged version of my driver's license with an official red stamped seal and signatures and some wording about how this is valid for travel only and it expired in a couple of weeks.
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.
I repacked my work bags into my travel bags and headed for the airport, changing into my comfy traveling pants on the way (it was a black towncar with shaded windows and a female driver, so what the hell?) I walked right up to the security checkpoint and pretended to confidently know what I was doing handing the guy this 8x11 sheet of paper as he kept asking for a photo ID until he saw this giant driver's license staring him in the face. I don't know if he hesitated 8 nanoseconds or 10 nanoseconds before he let me through.
So now since this thing expires soon, I have to get down to the DMV for a duplicate license and find my real passport because I still need to get on an airplane every week for my normal LA/Sacto commute. With any luck, I'll have it before my trip to New York next month. I'm staying in Manhattan again, but this time, it's all vacation and New Jersey won't even know I'm there.
WOTD: retinue
|
n. The retainers or attendants accompanying a high-ranking person.
As in: When George began dating a retinue of NBC and brought her to Jerry's apartment, Kramer vomited on her.
As in: When George began dating a retinue of NBC and brought her to Jerry's apartment, Kramer vomited on her.
Have You Seen These Movies?
|
Here are Slate Magazine's Top Ten Movies:
1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2. Sideways
3. Hero and House of Flying Daggers
4. Bad Education
5. The Incredibles
6. Tarnation
7. Metallica: Some Kind of Monster
8. Moolaadé
9. Kill Bill: Vol. 2
10. Goodbye, Dragon Inn
11. Spanglish
12. Team America: World Police
13. Collateral (FIRST HALF ONLY)
The article goes on to explain why there are actually 13 and a half on the list.
I managed to see 9 and a half of them. How about you?
1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2. Sideways
3. Hero and House of Flying Daggers
4. Bad Education
5. The Incredibles
6. Tarnation
7. Metallica: Some Kind of Monster
8. Moolaadé
9. Kill Bill: Vol. 2
10. Goodbye, Dragon Inn
11. Spanglish
12. Team America: World Police
13. Collateral (FIRST HALF ONLY)
The article goes on to explain why there are actually 13 and a half on the list.
I managed to see 9 and a half of them. How about you?
WOTD: Onanistic
|
adj.
1. Masturbatory.
2. Of or pertaining to Coitus interruptus.
As in: Kramer's onanstic tendencies led to his quick downfall in the Master of Your Domain contest.
1. Masturbatory.
2. Of or pertaining to Coitus interruptus.
As in: Kramer's onanstic tendencies led to his quick downfall in the Master of Your Domain contest.
Painted Lady Migration
|
Has anyone noticed all the dang butterflies? There was a bazillion of 'em coming through Elk Grove earlier this week. They say it happens once or twice a decade, but I've never seen this before. And apparently, because of their egg-laying habits, there will be another wave in a month. Mucho raino from Mexico has caused record numbers of these eye-level flying, windshield splattable beauties to migrate north.It is interesting to note that when meeting a violent end, the butterflies leave a yellow splatter from the stored fat they use to fly long distances. The pockets of fat are filled with Vitamin A, which gives the goo its yellow color.
Say, is anybody hungry?
WOTD: precipitously
|
adv 1: very suddenly and to a great degree; [syn: sharply] 2: abruptly; in a precipitous manner.
As in: George's use of the third person rose precipitously once he met Jimmy (he of the training shoes) who said things like: "Jimmy can jump" amd "Jimmy likes Elaine".
As in: George's use of the third person rose precipitously once he met Jimmy (he of the training shoes) who said things like: "Jimmy can jump" amd "Jimmy likes Elaine".
Woo Hoo! I'm a Professional!
|
An online literary magazine called T-Zero has accepted one of my stories for publication in their May 2005 issue. And this one pays $15.00 which is fifteen dollars more than I've ever gotten in my whole life for a story. One step closer to becoming a bazillionaire novelist. Yeah, soon I'll be rubbing elbows with that Harry Potter chick across the pond.
I will let all my ardent fans know when my story is published, so you can read it.
I will let all my ardent fans know when my story is published, so you can read it.
Word of The Day: elegiac
|
Welcome to the maiden entry for the Word of the Day, an effort to educate and amuse. This theme was inspired by all the reading that I do and stumble on words I don't know and don't bother to look up. I figure that eventually I will understand what it means by reading it in context a few times. But sometimes, I just keep seeing words, like "de facto" over and over and I still don't get it. And someday I want to be able to use these words myself as if I was born with the definition. Hence: the Word of the Day, heretofore referred to as: WOTD. (Did I use heretofore correctly? I don't even know. I didn't look that one up.)
So without further ado: elegiac - Of, relating to, or involving elegy or mourning or expressing sorrow for that which is irrecoverably past.
As in: Can I get an Amen for my elegiac lament for Seinfeld's last episode?
So without further ado: elegiac - Of, relating to, or involving elegy or mourning or expressing sorrow for that which is irrecoverably past.
As in: Can I get an Amen for my elegiac lament for Seinfeld's last episode?
The Geniuses of Social Commentary
|
Just when you thought you'd over-dosed on Terry Shiavo news. Had heard enough. Had heard it all. You realize that it is a debatable issue and you flip back and forth on your own opinion with the frequency of Nancy Grace's tear shedding. You think you've finally figured out that the reason you can't make up your mind about it is because there are a bunch of media-greedy whiners with their own agenda preventing any of us from ever finding out the truth, thereby assuring no settlement to the issue whatsoever.
Then along comes a big fat statement about the whole thing that brings a peace to your mind. That settles it once and for all. That tells the truth. That puts it all in perspective, makes us take a step back and look at the thing that way it should be seen. And now we can all sleep at night like cuddled babies in powdered blue cribs and soft lullabies playing over us from cloudy mobiles.
This calming effect was brought about in a 26 minute segment that never even mentioned Terry Shiavo's name. I am, of course, talking about the statement made earlier this week by an episode of South Park: Best Friends Forever.
If you are terribly confused about your own feelings in this manner (especially now that we find the beloved Pontiff, yet another Catholic, on a feeding tube), I urge you to check your local listings. In the words of Frank Costanza, "Serenity Now!".
The BFF episode of South Park will air again tonight at midnight, Sun Apr 3 at 10:30 PM, and Mon April 4 at 1:00 AM.
Then along comes a big fat statement about the whole thing that brings a peace to your mind. That settles it once and for all. That tells the truth. That puts it all in perspective, makes us take a step back and look at the thing that way it should be seen. And now we can all sleep at night like cuddled babies in powdered blue cribs and soft lullabies playing over us from cloudy mobiles.
This calming effect was brought about in a 26 minute segment that never even mentioned Terry Shiavo's name. I am, of course, talking about the statement made earlier this week by an episode of South Park: Best Friends Forever.
If you are terribly confused about your own feelings in this manner (especially now that we find the beloved Pontiff, yet another Catholic, on a feeding tube), I urge you to check your local listings. In the words of Frank Costanza, "Serenity Now!".
The BFF episode of South Park will air again tonight at midnight, Sun Apr 3 at 10:30 PM, and Mon April 4 at 1:00 AM.
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