Quodlibets

Question for the day

Does anyone else think that it's absolutely ridiculous that Brandon and Kelly didn't get married on 90210?

I mean, I was horrified by the storyline then, and now?  EVEN MORE HORRIFIED.

Broken

Whoops.  Two days missed.  Vegas broke me.  It wasn't so much that Vegas was bad, because it wasn't.  It was awesome, in fact.  I had so much fun--we saw Beatles Love and O, ate at some insanely awesome restaurants, and just relaxed at times.  But I simply don't sleep right in hotels anymore.  I haven't slept well in a hotel in a long time, and this trip was worse for some reason, which is also bizarre, because the room and bed were awesome.  If I was just laying in bed, I was super comfortable.  I felt as if I'd be sleeping well.  But no.  No good sleep for me.  So I think I felt tired and laggy for the last couple of days, and though that didn't stop me from enjoying things, it did serve to prevent me from doing anything more than just enjoying Vegas.

I really, really enjoyed Beatles Love.  I'd go back and see it again in a heartbeat.  The music in it is just so good.  It's the Beatles, yeah, but it's just remixed in such great ways.  Loved. It.  I had more mixed feelings about O.  It was my first actual Cirque show (Beatles Love almost doesn't count), and I found it...almost TOO weird.  And I've been informed it's not the weirdest one, either.  Don't get me wrong.  The acrobatics, stunts and staging are amazing.  The pool and its moving parts are amazing.  I was fascinated by the way the stage looked as it changed forms.  Honestly, I think my favorite part of that show was just watching the water flooding over the stage as it submerged, time and again.  That's probably not a normal reaction.  But it's just that there's no...story.  I mean, if there is a story, I didn't really understand it.  I think the one guy was trying to return a red scarf to a lady who dropped it.  I think.  And that's the story.  Weird people stop him.  Boom!  Plot.

Of course, Cirque de Soleil is a circus, and not a play.  Circuses don't have stories.  But maybe...I don't know.  Maybe I don't like circuses?  Maybe I don't like the combination of play and circus?  I'm not sure.  I saw really neat things, but I don't think I could go again, to see O.  The others we were with had each seen in multiple times before this one, and wow, that's crazy to me.  The only reason Love is worth seeing again, to me, is the music, and the sheer Beatleness of it.  That's why I liked it.  The acrobatics are neat, but not worth it to me.  Hence my reaction to O.

I don't think I wouldn't go see other Cirque shows again.  They're all different, I gather, and so all interesting in some way.  I'd be interested in experiencing them, but not for a second time, I don't think.

Anyway, it's not like I'm going back to Vegas any time soon, and that's okay by me.  It's overwhelming, and I think once every once in a while is all I can take. 

Vegas

Vegas is weird, man.  I'm not a gambling person.  I don't understand the risk-taking.  I do understand why some people like it, but yeah.  Not into it.

I'm here to see shows, really.  Beatles Love specifically.  And eat.  Vegas is a great restaurant city now.  And there's an In-N-Out, which makes Sam happy.  Made Sam happy, about an hour ago.

We're having fun.  I'm a little tired, because the hotel bed won the argument last night, and I woke up at 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep.  I took a nap today, but it's left me feeling like I've got a wicked hangover. 

I've got nothing else to say right now.

I don't know how this will work

Light posting for the next few days.  I'm going to post (I think I hope), but I'm not 100% sure how.  I'll figure it out. 

I don't have much else to say today.  Busy getting ready. 

Paper Towels

Ok, this is trivial.  But there is someone here who does not know how to use the pull-down automatic paper towel dispensers in our bathrooms, and it drives me nuts.

It's not very hard to pull down a towel, which also pulls down the next one part-way, and then rip off the bottom one.  Does everyone know what I'm talking about here?  Automatic machine.  Paper towels in a roll, perforated for easy ripping.  SO EASY TO USE.

And yet, I go in the bathroom, and the next towel hasn't descended.  Is someone pulling the first towel wrong?  Maybe from the side?  And then, dude!  If the next towel doesn't come out, by some weird occurrence, turn that red knobby thing on the side, so that the next person that comes in doesn't end up doing it while dripping water all over the floor.  It's NOT THAT HARD.

Okay.  I'm done now.

Affianced

I hate that word.  I hate the word fiancee too, and I refuse to use it.  Our wedding planner (yes, we have one; it's not as bad as it sounds, trust me), the first time I spoke to her on the phone, scolded me for using the word boyfriend to describe Sam.  "He's your fiancee!" she practically shouted at me.  Fiancee, schmiancee.  He's my boyfriend.  Perfectly describes his relationship to me.  Yeah, we're getting married.  But we're not fancy about it.  You can be quite certain I will never EVER call him my fiancee while speaking of him to others. 

Here's another way we're not fancy: I have no engagement ring.  Have I talked about this before?  I STRONGLY object to engagement rings as tokens of ownership.  Especially in light of the fact that in this instance, the man is clearly owning the woman.  How many men do you know that wear an engagement ring?  The world doesn't know men are off the market, but oho! the woman is taken.  You can tell by the GIANT EARTH ROCK she's wearing on her finger.  Now, I don't object to diamonds (though I probably should), or gems in general.  I happen to think they're very pretty.  But I don't think they're pretty when they're signaling to the world that some man has claimed me.

Frankly, doesn't it seem in some ways like a woman is being bought?  The bigger the ring, the better!  Because if you've got a big rock, he paid A LOT!  Which means he is AWESOME and POWERFUL and can afford to TAKE CARE OF WOMAN.  Ugh.  And this modern bride price sets up this hideous competition between women, because when you show up with that humdinger, and the person next to you has a chip, what does that say?  I'll tell you, it says that he doesn't love you enough to buy you a big ol' whopper.  Or *gasp* he might not be a good provider.  Everything about those last two sentences MAKE me want to puke. 

Please don't tell me that you understand all this and when you are proposed to, and the ring is whipped out, you are accepting it and you can shed all the implications of it.  I'm sorry.  You can't.  And even if you and he can, the rest of the world certainly cannot.  And you cannot explain to every person who looks at your ring: but wait!  not me!  I don't believe in all the things this shiny rock represents!  Not me!  I swear!  And look, I'm sure you don't care what size the ring is, because you love him no matter what, but you know what?  Other WOMEN are going to look at that ring and they are GOING TO JUDGE YOU.  And him.  And that's fucked up too.  You can't escape that.  You can put yourself above it and not care what other women think of you.  You can make a vow not to judge women based on their rings.  You can do those things, but you are STILL buying into a system that creates this dichotomy. 

Engagement rings are harmful to women.  Point blank.  You can't convince me otherwise, even if you argue that he's getting a flat-screen HDTV as an engagement present.  Unless he's going to wear that TV everywhere, and everyone in the world will know what it represents, the two things ain't the same.  All the HDTV tells me is that you have lots of money.  So buy the HDTV for him, fine.  But don't put on a ring that tells the world that a man FINALLY bought you, and that hallelujah, you are loved by a rich man.  

Again: engagement rings are harmful. to. women.

FAIL

Third day fail.  I just plain forgot.  Moving on.  Post later today.

A Tribute to my sister, on the occasion of her Birthday, in Haiku Verse

Katie has blond hair.

Very different from mine.

One difference of many.

*

Oh! that balloon. Pop!

The babysitter is here.

Now you can't show Mom.

*

Do not eat that cake!

Mom made a sitting Care Bear!

Ruined! By Katie.

*

You eat that orange.

Even if you don't like it.

Else Mom will chase you.

*

Justin Timberlake.

Knitting. Cookies. Color Red.

Things you like a lot.

*

Coconut. Textures.

Folk Music. Pepperoni

Things you hate a lot.

*

You bought a prom dress

On Capri. Sparkly and black.

It was the best dress.

*

I wish you liked sports.

Could play fantasy football.

Oh well. Won't happen.

*

Sorry to say it

But your torso is crazy.

You know already.

*

We laugh all the time.

Add Mom, and we can't control

the insanity.

*

I admire your

loyalty, intelligence,

fierceness, bravery.

*

Wish only good things

for you. Happiness and joy,

some big dogs to love.

*

Lucky you're my sis,

Lucky we can be friends too.

Too sappy?  Sorry.

*

Was going to write

Twenty-eight. But damn, I'm done.

Happy Birthday, Kate.

NaBloPoMo 2009

That's right.  National Blog Posting Month.  I'm doing it.  Once a day, every day, for one month.  Even while on a trip to Vegas.  Even on Thanksgiving (and anti-Thanksgiving, which is always fun).  I've been saving up some posts.  I'm going to talk about things. 

And I'm quite sure I'll be making some random lists.  So here we go:

A LIST OF CANDY SAM AND I BOUGHT FOR 50% OFF THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN:

• Twix
• Snickers
• Twizzlers
• Reese's Pieces
• Pay Day

Yes, we are living in a land of candy excess.  The Twizzlers and Payday are going to his work, though.  A treat for his co-workers. 

The rest are living in a candy bowl on the coffee table.  We don't have a good track record of eating that candy, so we might be talking about months of living there, and then the bottom of a garbage bag.

Or maybe we'll surprise everyone and eat it all.  Or more likely, we'll give up and Sam will end up taking it all to work.

Happy Day after Halloween!  Half-price candy day!