I was just thinking...

Name:

I've become addicted to "A"s (I've gone back to college), love eating and cooking everything but goat cheese, I always try to please everyone and laugh without wetting myself or snorting. I love reading and keeping up with current events, I value my friends. And most especially, I'm a proud mother of four and an excessively proud grandmother of five.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

...of a drinking flow chart...







...tonight's my big night!!!!




Tonight, I am going to the ballet. My sweet daughter, Mallory, surprised me at our Thankschanumasgiving celebration and got tickets for the two of us to see my favorite ballet. And tonight is the big night. I have been looking forward to this since November. This will be at least the 13th time I've gone to see this ballet. Actually, this is a ballet troupe. The fantastic Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo.
The following is a great review of a "Trocks" performance in Austin, Texas some years ago. Nothing has changed, except for maybe some of the performers. Thank you to Dawn Davis, staff writer of the Austin Chronicle for this article "Ballet on the Moon...But With Attack Swans." You can read is yourself at the following website: http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/review?oid=oid%3A76459

"In traditional ballets and traditional ballet companies, men do get the short end of the stick. Lift, carry, turn, lift, carry, turn, show off the ballerina, stand behind her, present her to the audience, do small short solo, then lift, carry, turn, etc. Back in 1974, when the Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo decided to don tutus and toe shoes, they caused a sensation. Who would have thought that men could dance on toe -- or would even want to? Actually, the "Trocks," as they are lovingly known, are a modern incarnation of en travesti dancers, performers who, due to a shortage of good dancers or for comedic effect, take on opposite gender roles. But that designation doesn't do them justice. They are the queens of sight gags, character bows, and the hilarious encore -- which this time was an Irish dance number, complete with fog. They take what could easily be a one-laugh gag -- a big, hairy man in toe shoes -- and wring from it every last comedic drop.

Apparently, I was not the only one anticipating the Trocks' return visit to Austin, because the Paramount was packed solid with an adoring audience. Bios of the featured dancers had the audience laughing even before the curtain parted. Some of the best were (hint: say the names out loud to yourself): Ida Nevasayneva, Iona Trailer, Tanya Doumiafeyva, and Mikhail Mypansarov, whose claim to fame is being "one of the first defective Russian male stars, who has been with the greatest ballerinas of our time and has even danced with some of them." Another hilarious bio painted American William Vanilla as the perfect being -- a dancer who is "extremely personable, the ballerinas enjoy dancing with him, the management finds him agreeable, his fans admire his directness, he photographs well, keeps regular hours, and never has a bad word to say about anybody; he will never really understand the Russian ballet."

Smugly pleased with their Swan Lake tutus and feathered caps, the dancers simpered, preened, bobbed heads, and communicated with a wildly exaggerated and campy sign language composed of ballet pantomime and real-world gestures. Between gags, they danced beautifully -- and damn, they were really good! Turbo-charged power ballerinas with amazing flexibility, the strength of well-trained men and the ability to spin like tops, they would leap ... and stay up ... and hang out ... and finally land. At times, it was like watching ballet on the moon, except this Swan Lake had attack swans.

The company tackled the work of diverse choreographers, spoofing the starkness and jazzy hip thrusting of neo-classical Balanchine ballets and the pretensions of modern choreographer Merce Cunningham, complete with John Cage-ish musicians whose assorted instruments included candy wrappers, scissors, spray cans, bubble wrap, and wooden clogs, played with tongues planted firmly in cheeks. Throughout, the Trocks used their intimate knowledge of dance and their flair for slapslick physicality to poke fun at the trials and tribulations of live performance. What dancer hasn't feared or experienced embarrassing costume problems, getting dropped by a bad partner, entering at the wrong time, or falling during an entrance? And what audience member hasn't cringed at one of these scenarios during a serious performance? I couldn't help thinking that in the Trockadero company, men finally get their turn to be the center of attention as they execute precise technique in beautiful costumes and huge toe shoes. And they shine with such a decidedly self-deprecating brilliance that one can't help but laugh with them and adore them."

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

about things that make me go ooooooh...


And these favorite things: Daniel Sunjata ("Franco") from Rescue Me, a baby horned toad (desert horned lizard) in Arizona, Chicago-style deep-dish spinach pizza from my favorite pizzaria--Giordano's in Chicago, chocolate cheesecake (favorite food item), and Monument Valley on the Navajo reservation in northern Arizona.













...about things that make you go eeeewwww....


In case you don't recognize all of these "lease favorite people, Rush Limbaugh, Laura Ingraham,
Sean Hannity, Rod Blogojevich, Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, Senator Larry Craig.


























Wednesday, January 21, 2009

...about bailouts...

I don't know if you can read the tiny print...maybe you can cut and paste it and then enlarge it.

Monday, January 19, 2009

...one difference between men and women...

Oil Change instructions for Women :

1. Pull up to Jiffy Lube when the mileage reaches 3000 miles since the last oil change.
2. Drink a cup of coffee.
3. 15 minutes later, write a check and leave with a properly maintained vehicle.

Money spent:
Oil Change: $20.00
Coffee: $ 1.00
Total: $21.00

Oil Change instructions for Men:

1. Wait until Saturday, drive to auto parts store, and buy a case of oil, filter, kitty litter, hand cleaner, and a scented tree, write a check for $50.00.
2. Stop by 7/11 and buy a case of beer, write a check for $20, drive home.
3. Open a beer and drink it.
4. Jack car up. Spend 30 minutes looking for jack stands.
5. Find jack stands under kid's pedal car.
6. In frustration, open another beer and drink it.
7. Place drain pan under engine.
8. Look for 9/16 box end wrench.
9. Give up and use crescent wrench.
10. Unscrew drain plug.
11. Drop drain plug in pan of hot oil: splash hot oil on you in process. Cuss.
12. Crawl out from under car to wipe hot oil off of face and arms. Throw kitty litter on spilled oil.
13. Have another beer while watching oil drain.
14. Spend 30 minutes looking for oil filter wrench.
15. Give up; crawl under car and hammer a screwdriver through oil filter and twist off.
16. Crawl out from under car with dripping oil filter splashing oil everywhere from holes. Cleverly hide old oil filter among trash in trash can to avoid environmental penalties. Drink a beer.
17. Install new oil filter making sure to apply a thin coat of oil to gasket surface.
18. Dump first quart of fresh oil into engine.
19. Remember drain plug from step 11.
20. Hurry to find drain plug in drain pan.
21. Drink beer.
22. Discover that first quart of fresh oil is now on the floor. Throw kitty litter on oil spill.
23. Get drain plug back in with only a minor spill. Drink beer.
24. Crawl under car getting kitty litter into eyes. Wipe eyes with oily rag used to clean drain plug. Slip with stupid crescent wrench tightening drain plug and bang knuckles on frame removing any excess skin between knuckles and frame.
25. Begin cussing fit.
26. Throw stupid crescent wrench.
27. Cuss for additional 5 minutes because wrench hit bowling trophy.
28. Beer.
29. Clean up hands and bandage as required to stop blood flow.
30. Beer.
31. Dump in five fresh quarts of oil.
32. Beer.
33. Lower car from jack stands.
34. Move car back to apply more kitty litter to fresh oil spilled during any missed steps.
35. Beer.
36. Test drive car.
37. Get pulled over: arrested for driving under the influence.
38. Car gets impounded.
39. Call loving wife, make bail.
40. 12 hours later, get car from impound yard.

Money spent:
Parts $ 50.00
DUI: $2,500.00
Impound fee: $ 75.00
Bail: $1,500.00
Beer: $ 20.00
Total: $4,145.00

But you know the job was done right...

Saturday, January 17, 2009

...Ruh Roh...


What were they thinking??

...about Chicago, and how much I miss it...

This lovely poem is SO FRIGGIN' FITTING RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Winter Poem

It's winter in Chicago
And the gentle breezes blow...
Seventy miles an hour...
At thirty-five below.

Oh, how I love Chicago
When the snow's up to your butt.
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.

Yes, the weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I'll hang around.
I could never leave Chicago...
I'm frozen to the friggin' ground!

Friday, January 09, 2009

...I could go for a bowl of chocolate ice cream


This is my precious and perfect little angel who can do no wrong...Michael. Just before Halloween, my daughter Mallory and I took him to the local farmers' market to buy him a pumpkin. He wore his skeleton costume with his owl hat. The ice cream was so cold that he made this goofy face and balled his hands up into fists. Since then, however, he had acquired a taste for ice cream which Grandpa is happy to provide. He appears to like all flavors, and loves the whipped cream we always squirt on top. He is now nine months old, is 30 1/4 inches long, and weighs 23 pounds...solid muscle, no fat like his grandma. He crawls as fast as a spider, and getting him dressed is like trying to shove an octopus into a bag.