So the phone rings earlier. The real phone. I cringe like I always do. But I answer it anyway.
A man named Danielle (I swear) says he’s with Window’s something or other. His English is so sketchy I can barely understand what he is saying.
“Do you have computah?”
And I think, I don’t have time for this nonsense so I say “I do not.”
Couple seconds of silence.
“Do you have laptop?” Sounded like he said “Le Pop” so I say “Pardon me?” and he repeats it. I say, “No, I don’t.”
So he says “What do you have?” I’m tempted to say “I have a vibrator” but I do not. I figure if I say I have a smartphone, I’ll be on the line longer, so I say, “I have a cellphone.”
Danielle (?) chuckles and says, “Oh my gootness!” and then there’s a couple seconds of silence, another chuckle and then a click.
Prompted by an excellent piece by my good friend and author, Harry Ramble, I wish to share a short countenance that is stored in my memory as one of the first dates I had with PD.
PD’s father owned a camp a couple of hours from here. It was in a beautiful and secluded wooded area and would make an excellent place to invite a beautiful woman for a nice weekend escape and PD, being no dummy, did that very thing. And I accepted.
New to this whole “camp” scenario, I didn’t know that the propane tanks which enable cooking and heating inside the camp would be stored in a shed off to the edge of the property, probly about twenty feet from the camp itself. C’mon. I was a city girl long before I became a country girl… At any rate, the shed had been built amid a blind of pine trees. Very. Tall. Pine. Trees. It was dark in the shed. I don’t remember if there was electricity in there, but I stood outside under the pines while PD unlocked the padlock on the door of the shed and stepped inside. I was to find out later that the loud whooshing sound I heard was from the air escaping the tank when he opened the valve to turn on the propane. It was quite startling since I did not expect the noise. AND it was loud. Evidently the squirrel in the tree must have been at least as startled as I was because, mid-whoosh, he dove straight down out of the tree
like a furry gray torpedo and landed directly on my head for a second or two… his tiny paws scrambling around in my hair to get his footing long enough to dive yet again. This time, to the ground and he shot off into the woods, most likely to a backwoods version of Urgi-Care to have a full cardio work-up to make sure he wasn’t having a heart attack. Me? I would never relax outside the confines of my own home, ever again.
Maybe a better title for this post may have been “Squirrel, Interrupted…”
Just logged in here and was surprised to see that my winter settings from last year have kicked in. I don’t think I was using this header photo last year. Otherwise I would have noticed that it looks like I’m having a dandruff problem.
I like this only slightly more than my last attempt at finding a new look for my blog. It’s becoming clear to me that trying to customize someone else’s idea of how a blog should look isn’t working for me. I truly wish I had the tools (read: smarts) to design and present you with the Real Me blog. There’s one more item to add to my Bucket List : )
On another note and in the same creative vein, PD and I are hard at work trying to get our living room redone in time for the holidays. I must say, it’s looking pretty good. The living room, I mean… not necessarily meeting the deadline. It’s becoming clear to me that some other holiday preps are going to suffer due to the time it’s taking… things like gifts and wrapping and baking and things. The carpet is due to be installed on December 2nd so that doesn’t leave much time for putting up the tree and decorations. BUT this pretty much happens to me every year, one thing or another puts a crimp in my time frame. And just like every year, it will all get done and the Holiday WILL happen and we will be grateful for times spent with the family and all the joy that entails.
In the mean time, if any of you have any free time laying around, you’re more than welcome to deposit it into my bank. Every single second will be greatly appreciated. Remember, the real Joy is in the Giving : ) Kthxbai.
Robert Francis – Junebug – taratata
Confession: I have an old-fashioned school girl crush on Robert Francis. I’ve been listening to this song for ages and never get tired of it. First I fell in love with the song. Then when I saw what he looked like, I was all, like, WOW. Sure, he’s a little wee bit scruffy but I picture him clean-shaven with a haircut wearing boots and a long coat kind of like this. So maybe you can understand the appeal. Anyway, I was excited as heck when the official video came out for Junebug. I had already made up kind of a movie in my head. Now I found the live version of the song and yeah. Oh yeah. It’s official. Paul Westerberg and PD have nothing to worry about but I REALLY like Robert Francis. And OMG when he says “Merci beau coup” at the end, je vais cuckoo. (Il me faut un docteur.) Il est chaud!
As you may know, I have a birthday coming up this weekend. I’ve compiled a little of my own birthday trivia for your amusement…
- I was born on Albert Einstein’s birthday. And although Robert Francis and Paul Westerberg and Gael Garcia-Bernal and PD all hold places (varying degrees) of importance in my heart, Albert is my hero. (As is TC)
- My birthday is pi. (3.14) This is kind of a new development, but I now celebrate my birthday along with, or should I say, in conjunction withSteak and BJ day. I’m quite anxious to hear your humorous, yet tasteful, comments about this…
- I also share my birthday with Michael Caine and Liza Minelli. I’m sure there are others but I grew up knowing of these two.
- I am Piscean and that means I’m about as cool as you can get, not to mention impractical, intuitive and mysterious. But you knew that.
Ok, these bullets totally screwed up and I can’t fix them because I’m a Pisces and I don’t give a sh** because I don’t.
PS I got a comment that is, for all intents and purposes, spam. But I left it on my sidebar because it made me laugh like hell. It’s Mr. Fordinsnorkel or something to that effect. Look over there in my side bar, read what he wrote and click on his name and prepare to LOL.
Update: Mr. Spam has decided to vacate the premises. Imagine that. Maybe I dreamed him up…
I had this funny idea just now. I was going to call this post DRUGS. That way, when someone commented, on my side bar, it would show peoples’ pictures and beside it would say “on drugs” thereby appearing what *you* would look like on drugs. Ok, funny in kind of a sick way but still. But being that most of you show up here as pretty quilt patches, it wouldn’t be so funny.
Anyway… Happy Friday and have a good weekend.
I did. And more about that later. But right now I’m in the mood to convert some fans. “Oh no,” you’re saying, “Linda’s on one of her recruiting binges…”
Yeah, well, that’s my prerogative and if you don’t wanna play along, you don’t haf’ta. But when this guy (and band) gets all rich and famous one day, you’ll say, “Linda said he/they would.” And I believe that he/they will. Just like I told you about Airborne Toxic Event. Well, they’re getting there.
You see, I forget what day Dave Parnell of Runaway Dorothy started his endeavor exactly but he’s given himself nine weeks to become a Rock Star. You can read all about his aspirations here. I’m embarrassed to say that I can’t recall where I heard Runaway Dorothy for the first time. That’s one of the downsides to listening to the volume of music that I’m accustomed to. Just like Airborne Toxic Event. I wish to hell I could remember the first time I heard Sometime Around Midnight. (Notice the 432,192 views of their vid!)
The really cool thing about Runaway Dorothy is that they are SO good that they made me listen to music that’s not even my style. It doesn’t fit a category (in my opinion) and I tend toward that kind of music and make my own category but I’m having to dig deep to find one for these guys. Dave Parnell, the future rock star that I have a huge, but manageable crush on (Surprise Dave! I bet you couldn’t tell…) describes their sound best when he says they, and I quote, “Sound like a blend of coldplay, bob and jakob dylan.” You can hear their music here. I especially love Abilene and Chases and Caulfield.
I am the lucky owner of their cd The Arc (which is autographed as you can see in the second photo) as well as an awesome Tshirt (ditto that.) I can hardly wait for summer to come because I can’t think of a better way to spend a warm night sitting on my swing listening to their music and wearin’ mah shirt.
Now, as soon as Dave gets back to me with permission to post this, I’ll put it up.
And if he doesn’t, I’m gonna anyway cause he’s not my boss. *wink wink* Unless of course I’ve talked him into letting me be a paid groupie roadie by now.
Mumford & Sons – Little Lion Man – clean: Video
It says disabled but you can still click on it and watch it. (I know…)
The audio clarity etc. is MUCH better on the not-so-clean version, but I would never think of posting anything “objectionable” here on my dear (neglected) old blog. If you want the rough stuff, it’s here. You know you want to anyway, and I recommend it anyway…
Now and then I need to stop and remind myself that not everyone “gets” my sarcasm. On here, anyway. (And every once in a while in real life, too.) It’s funny how you tend to assume that when someone reads what you write, that they’re taking it in in the same way you’re putting it out. I don’t usually intend to come across as truly harsh or overly judgmental. I forget that the reader can’t see me sitting here typing with a gleam in my eye or my tongue in my cheek. A perfect example is the post I wrote recently about “pretents” in which I went on about how some of their speaking habits bugged me. (A pretent, if you’re not familiar with the post, is the name I made up for a pretentious person. It was supposed to be a jab at myself, as the whole point of the post was about how they (pretents) shorten words to appear to be cool…) Someone I adore admitted to shortening her words and apologized for appearing to be a pretent. In actuality, she doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body and I gasped to think that she thought I might consider her that way. She’s not the only person to read here who had that reaction, so I can only surmise that others may have reacted the same. (BTW, if you’re reading, B. and J., I ❤ you both!)
There have been times that I’ve mistaken people’s sarcasm, too. It’s not hard to do. When you don’t personally know people and are just reading what they write, never having sat together for a real life conversation, how do you really know how to interpret what they write? I’ve struggled with this and wondered how to get things across… There are terrific bloggers who are terribly sarcastic and it’s very evident. The first one who comes to my mind is dooce. I envy her ability to be funny and sarcastic and still get a heart-felt idea across. (The post I’ve linked to coincidentally addresses the fact that there are always readers who don’t “get” what she’s putting out there…)
Let me just say, I don’t really know how to get around this. I was born with this sense of humor and I come from a long line of sarcasts. I think though that I may label my rants as sarcastic in the future. If you’re reading something here and it makes you feel uncomfortable or that I’m speaking directly to you, look up at the top of the post at the category and if it says “*wink wink*,” then that’s all it is.
So. There it is. I just wanted to get that off my chest. If there’s ever anything I say that offends you somehow, please call me on it and give me a chance to clarify. Just because I’ve been blogging for as long as I have, it doesn’t mean I know all the rules or even if I’m any good at it.
Now if I were getting paid to do it, that would make all the difference…