Thursday, February 26, 2009

Brad Pitt's Never Going To Win That Oscar

Last Sunday, as I was watching the Oscars, I thought about something Peter had said about Brad Pitt few months ago.

Brad was going around all the talk shows talking up his new movie, especially since he had been nominated as Best Actor for the Oscars. However, he was wearing this strange little mustache.

"Oh, he's NEVER going to win that Oscar if he's going around with that Hitler mustache," Peter said.

"Maybe it's for a movie. Why else would a man groom that kind of mustache."

"Well, if he wants the Oscar, he needs to shave that off. He needs to tell the production company, 'Hey look. I can win an OSCAR. This may be my only shot at this and I am NOT jeopardizing this by going around talking to people about it in MY HITLER MUSTACHE.'"

As it turns out, he did not win the Oscar and I do believe it's all because of the mustache.

I haven't seen the Benjamin Button movie yet and my friend Andrew said, "You should, because they CGI him back into the Brad Pitt you fell in love with in A River Runs Through It."

Monday, February 23, 2009


Last night a bad movie, called Turks 182 was on late-night television. It starred Kim Catrall and Timothy Hutton and it was so terrible that Peter said, "No WONDER their careers went down the crapper!"

I mentioned that she's really lucky that she ended up with the role on Sex and the City instead of the woman they originally hired and immediately, Peter wanted to know who that woman was.

"She's not popular," I said. "You wouldn't know her."

"Yes I would," he replied.

Peter does have this uncanny ability to pick out any character actor anywhere. He'll say, "Oh, see that guy picking up the trash in this movie? He used to be a judge on Law & Order."

"No," I said. "She's very little known, so you wouldn't know her."

I tried to google it, but couldn't find her name. I was talking to my friend Andrew at the time, so all three of us were googling to find out who this mystery person was. Andrew's from San Francisco, so I had people working coast-to-coast on this.

Our search phrases:

"Originally cast as Samantha Jones"

"Sex and the City Samantha Jones Actress First"

"Samantha Jones First"

"First Samantha Jones Sex and the City"

Later on I mentioned that I found out about this woman when she was interviewed for "Sex and the City E! True Hollywood Story and Peter shouted, "Well, WHY didn't you say that from the begginning? THAT would have made a difference.

New search terms:

"Sex and the City Samantha Jones E! True Hollywood Story"

"Samantha Jones E! True Hollywood Story"

"E! True Hollywood Story Originally Cast As Samantha Jones"

Etc, etc, etc,

It seems that this did not make a difference. This person was not on the Wikipedia Sex and the City page. She is UNGOOGLEABLE! My theory is that the producers of Sex and the City disappeared her. I don't know how and I don't know where, but it was DONE.

I have thrown down the gauntlet of Googledom. I have found the one ungoogleable item EVER.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Does That Look Like A Sandwich To You?

The problem with going out to eat with eleven people on Valentine's Day in Chicago is that there are TOO MANY PEOPLE with TOO MANY IDEAS. Because (for some reason) several of us wanted to go somewhere within walking distance of the hotel, and almost every restaurant was jammed full of people, one person in the group decided to that we should all go to this diner on Michigan Avenue which was practically empty.

Okay, simply the fact that this place was empty when every other restaurant was packed full of people should have tipped us off, actually, it did tip ME, Urban and Jim off, but we were with a huge group of people and we had already tried to go to three other restaurants and gotten turned away. So we decided to just go with the flow.

HOWEVER, food is really important to each of us, so in hindsight, Jim said, "Me and Urban should have grabbed you and ran for a taxi out of there!"

It was the type of diner that had one million items. Which is another bad sign. I asked Urban what he was ordering, and he said you can't go wrong with a burger. So that's what we ordered. As it turns out, you CAN go wrong with a burger. It was terrible. Urban ordered a side of fried mushrooms, but the cook misunderstood and put mushrooms IN Urban's burger. The waitress corrected the mistake and Urban kept the mushrooms on this burger. After a few bites of the fried mushrooms, Urban told me to try some.

"Okay," I said. I took a piece of fried mushroom, dipped it in the barbecue sauce and right before I popped it in my mouth, I asked him, "Is it good?"

He shook his head sadly and softly said, "No."

Later on, I noticed that Jim's meal looked like a pile of white goo. I couldn't think for the life of me what that was, so I asked him, "What did you order?"

Jim very angrily and loudly said, "It's a SANDWICH! What did you THINK?" I mean, steam was coming out of his ears. You would have thought I had asked him if he was wearing panties.

I turned to Urban and very quietly asked him, "Does that LOOK like a sandwich to you?"

And Urban turned and said, ""

Later Jim apologized. He explained that he had told the waitress he wanted gravy ON THE SIDE and she must have assumed he wanted the gravy ON ALL SIDES of his plate. Which was why that SANDWICH looked like a PILE OF WHITE GOO. Later that night I took Jim to South Loop Club for a gyro and he felt tons better. And when we were talking about the diner, I said, "I felt that it was just a waste of twenty dollars."

Urban said, "It was more like wasting a chance for something good to eat, which is WAY more important than just twenty dollars."

Totally agreed.

Friday, February 20, 2009


During the REAL Valentine's Day, I was in Chicago and the one time I called Peter on Valentine's Day, I spent the whole time moaning and whining about people I thought didn't like me. And Peter was all, "I haven't heard from you in almost two days and the SECOND you get me on the phone you just want to whine to me? Who cares if people don't like you? You're being such a BABY!"

I gathered myself, but in my head, I was thinking, "But I was saving all this jumbled mess of my collected insecurities FOR YOU!"

The fact is, husbands are there to assure us that, no, we are not being crazy when we think people are being mean to us and no, we are in fact, extremely lovely and lovable and wonderful.

That's okay, because I got that from Jim a little later that evening, during which time he said, "Your husband called you a baby? My girlfriend would NEVER speak to me again if I said that."

My reply was (in Peter's defense), "Well, I actually am a baby a lot."

Anyway, during that Valentine's Day conversation, Peter said, "You know, I was going to spend a ton of money to get a plane ticket and surprise you in Chicago, but I'm glad I didn't!"

Later, he explained that he thought about whether I would rather see him on Valentine's Day in Chicago or get a really expensive present and he decided that I would rather get the expensive present. I had a suspicion of what it was when he picked me up in the Honda Element to go pick up the present... because it was THIS!


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

I Was In Shit-cago And I Didn't Hate It

I went to the AWP conference in Chicago and although I don't enjoy Chicago in the wintertime, I didn't have the worst time. That's about the best thing I can say about Chicago.

It's a city that always "Blizzards on my ass." A phrase I came up with the last time I was in Chicago during the winter. We were having a leisurely lunch at Greektown when all-of-a-sudden I looked up and I couldn't see across the street because of the white blur of snow that appeared out of nowhere.

The thing about going to a city for a conference is that it doesn't really matter what city the conference is at because you only hang out in one building for the most part. And the bar at that building. The very expensive bar that charges $12 for a mixed drink. $12 DOLLARS!! Suffice it to say, I NURSED that vodka tonic as long as I could. So long that all the ice melted.

Another thing about the conference is that I regressed back to high school. There was a girl there who is a bit standoffish at times and I felt myself having my feelings hurt because she seemed to be actively shutting me out of conversations and I don't think it was my imagination that her friends seemed to really not want to talk to me.

When I mentioned this to my friend Jim, he said, "I don't think she likes me either. I think it's because she's jealous we look so young and SHE looks OLD!"

I don't think that there's anything that can cut a woman in her thirties to the quick faster than telling her that she looks OLD.

Anyway, this really touched me and made me feel really gooey inside.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Speaking of Poop...

The cat pooped on her scratching pad today.

We have been experimenting with putting less and less litter on the toilet litter kwitter pan so that she can get used to going in the toilet with no litter. Apparently, this is just fine for tinkling, but when it comes to taking a dump, she NEEDS those tiny beads of litter to go poop, I guess the same way my father needed the morning paper.

The way her little kitty noggin worked today is that she scratched up a bunch of cardboard bits from her scratching pad and formed a mound of bits. She then pooped on her scratching pad and covered up the poop with the cardboard bits. ARGGG!

This is VERY disheartening.

This is the second time she's done her business on the scratch pad. So now, another $7.99 down the drain.

She had been pooping in the bathtub about once a week, which was fine because you can pick it up relatively easily and we're trying to get her used to pooping in the toilet, which she HATES. Now I'm a bit worried because she had now taken the pooping outside of the bathroom for the first time since she peed on her last scratching pad a few months ago.

I just don't want her looking around the house trying to find another elimination station. So every time we see her eyeing something, we scream, "Snap out of it!"

And then she jumps in terror and runs hiding under the sofa.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Love, Thy Name is Labrador

Of all of our pets, Scout is the best one. I don't know if it's just a first-child parental thing. I know you're supposed to love all your children the same way, but there's nothing like that first one, the one that changes your life forever. I don't have children, but I am a first child and first children always think that deep down, they are, if not the favorite child, the most memorable one. And the first child will be the only one who will remember their parents when they were a little more youthful.

I am the only child who can even fathom running through the sprinklers with my parents. The one who accompanied them on our first trip to Disney World. We were like three children and I still remember my mother squealing throughout the Dumbo ride.

I know that my birth transformed my mother from a non-cooking, cockroach-fearing, non-opinionated girl into the awe-inspiring magician of food, killer of insects, and the person who is not ever afraid of ever saying, "That outfit makes you look like a middle-aged woman."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that, at age 35, "I AM a middle-aged woman! Which makes YOU an ol'lady!"

Scout is the sweetest dog and it breaks my heart that she's getting older by the minute. I can already see that she's losing some of her muscle mass. Her ribs poke out of her sides more than they used to and she doesn't come as fast when you call her.

I used to be able to whip a bite up apple up in the air and it didn't matter how far I flung it, she would pounce and grab it out of the air. Nowadays, it might bounce off her nose...or worse yet, drop to the floor.

The way she interacts with the cat is so cute. When we first brought her home, Scout just looked at it and looked at us as if to say, "What have you guys done NOW (sigh). What IS that thing?" Gone was the abject terror of the day we brought home Rocky. On THAT day, she looked as if we were seconds away from throwing her out on the street and saying, "So long, girl. We've got a new dog now. We won't be needing your services any longer."

Scout and the cat will sleep near each other, on their own beds. In the mornings, the cat will rub up against Scout, although Scout is a little bit cautious, lest those sharp claws come out. Scout has weathered the storm of our four moves, countless road trips across the country, and bringing in newer members of the family. I don't think that anything we ever do will ever freak her out anymore. And for some reason, that makes me sad.

I think that she will be the dog we'll talk about forever, especially that night she pooped on the corner of our bedroom floor when she was only a few weeks old. She was a terrible puppy to toilet-train, which got her into a lot of trouble. That night, I woke up to the most horrendous smell in the world, a smell so foul it wasn't earthly. It smelled like a present from the land of Hades.

When I got up to go clean it up, I saw that Scout had placed two socks on top of the poop.

That's right. She made her poop, looked at it and thought, "Uhm. I better cover this up before they find out about this."

After she placed one of my socks on the poop, she stepped back and said to herself, "This won't do. I think I need to cover up THAT little bit right there." Then she went and got the other sock.

And you know what kills me about that incident? She used TWO DIFFERENT socks from TWO DIFFERENT pairs.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Cleanliness Is Next To...

We have a friend who comes over our house and never washes his hands. He goes into the bathroom, does his business, and we never hear the faucet turn on. I brought this up to Peter last night and he said:

"Oh. He doesn't wash his hands on purpose. He knows we think it's important. I believe he's making a point by doing that."

Of course, what goes on in my mind is, "@#&%!" You know, like in the old comics when a character does something so out there that there are just no proper words to express this.

"But...but...but," I said. "He's only hurting himself! And getting E.coli. all over the potato chips!"

I know that I'm a little over-the-top in my hygiene. I am always washing my hands. This traces back to when my sister Judy was born and I was eight years old. I was told to wash my hands and face THE MOMENT I got home so as to not get any germs on the oh-so-delicate baby.

Now it's just a habit. I come home and wash my hands and my face. I believe this makes the world a better place.

I find it completely crazy when other people refuse to practice good hygiene. I know men are gross, but I never thought that a friend of ours would PURPOSEFULLY not wash his hands in my house. Of course this makes me want to invite people over less. And that's the slippery slope down the slide of becoming a Crazy Cat Lady Hermit.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Crawling On The Floor

Tonight we had two of Peter's friends over for the Superbowl, mainly because we have an HDTV. Peter likes sports, but when his team is in a tight spot, I have never seen him crawl on the floor on his hands and knees while groaning and keening like his friend Vinny, who wins the title hands down for most CRAZY STEELERS FAN. We will save that for when the kitten decides that she's had enough of this toilet-training nonsense and poops on our bed.

Thankfully, the Steelers won, although I have to admit that a part of me wanted to see Vinny flip out. I mean, if he's screaming and going nuts when the Steelers are several points behind, what would he be like when all hopes are dashed? Luckily, we live on the first floor in case he flung himself out the window. I would just hope that he doesn't break any of our stuff on the way out.

This reminds me of one of Peter and my first dates. He told me that he wasn't much of a sports fan and he hardly watches games. Which I learned later was completely untrue. He does enjoy watching sports and if we're at a restaurant and there's a game playing behind my head, if I took off all my clothes, it wouldn't even register with him. Therefore, you should date a man for more than several weeks before marrying him because what he thinks is true is different from what is the truth.

I tried to think of something I would feel so strongly about, but I have to say that I acted with much more decorum when George W. Bush won the presidential race against Kerry, and THAT determined the leader of our nation. Perhaps they haven't found that thing yet, the "Ice Skating While Fire-Breathing With the Stars" reality program which will inspire such passion in my heart. In that case, I would so be "Team Nia Peeples."