gearing up for gustav

I can't say that I'm doing much of that. I went to T's house for lunch, swimming and alcohol. Then I went to KT's for dinner, board games and alcohol. Now I'm back, restless with watching for our impending doom, and looking for things to distract me. Speaking of alcohol:


...I've been there before. The elephant (about 1:38 in) is the funniest part, front legs clearly out of action but still reaching for another fruit. Enjoy!

I'll be here petsitting until Tuesday night but I don't know anymore beyond that. I don't know where Tucker and Cole's mom went (though I do have contact info if things get dicey) but I live in a mobile home so I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't feel some relief at not being there during the storms when they finally get here. I just don't know if T & C's mom will be able to get back here from whereever...it seems like air travel will most definitely be affected. We'll see I suppose.

night all!

busy, busy

Sorry guys! The library is a pretty crazy place lately and my Amazon business is booming as well. I've had little time to just sit and do this. I have some petsitting coming up so maybe I'll get a chance to be more productive for a few days!

I will be sitting with Tucker (the handsome green-eyed boy) and Cole (Mr. Crookedfoot) until Tuesday, then Thursday through Monday I'll be with these two rascals:

I love all my honorary pups and kitties! I'll be back with Tucker and Cole at the end of the month. Fall is usually my busier time with petsitting as people go on end of the year vacations, then the holidays roll around and off we (or rather, they) go!

It's that time of year again!

I have been waiting on this since last year and it is FINALLY time for Carl V.'s R.I.P. III Reading Challenge (thats Readers Imbibing Peril, for those not in the know). The Challenge runs from September 1 - October 31 and there are three Perils to choose from:

Peril the First - Read four books of any length from any subgenre of scary stories you choose.

Peril the Second - Read two books of any length from any subgenre of scary stories you choose.

Peril the Third - Read one book of any length from any of the following genre's: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Dark Fantasy, Gothic, Horror, Supernatural.

I like to live dangerously so I will be going with Peril of the First Order and read four books:

Land of Echoes by Daniel Hecht

Bones of the Barbary Coast by Daniel Hecht

Newes from the Dead by Mary Hooper

The Walking Dead: Book One by Robert Kirkman

So, head on over to Carl V.'s R.I.P. III Reading Challenge and sign up!

I feel this way in meetings myself...

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Kenny, for alerting to the presence of Fail Blog. My day is never complete without it!

and a good time was had by all

KT invited me to Essie's family b'day party tonight...she turned a whopping 5 years old! Just think KT, for three days Essie and E will be the same age. Does she realize that I wonder? Something tells me E would be non too pleased to be ousted out of her position as biggest big sister if she knew :) Ah well, nothing to worry about as Saturday will be here in no time and E can reclaim her 6 year old throne of eldest sister.

Fun things:

I wanted a picture with all three girls, which KT graciously agreed to take...especially embarrassing after I wondered aloud where I could sit it to use the timer when there were 4 other adults in the room. KT graciously didn't point this out to me but let me arrive there in my own time. The great part, Toonie (short for Petunia) ended up in the photo with us! Just after the photo, Essie whispered in my ear, "Aunt Holley, your tummy feels like a bean bag."

What I wanted to say - "and it looks like one too"

What I actually said - "That's because I carry my love for everybody around with me instead of leaving some of it at home"

With a sage nod, she scampered off to cause mischief.

What is it about wearing the Birthday Girl tiara that makes you feel special, even if it isn't your birthday? P-toes doesn't know and thinks I shouldn't worry about it either, so we'll just let that one go.

No one is certain what happened here...P-toes would have been a good guess but the rumor was that it was Nana. Unfortunately, she had no testimony on her own behalf. She was witnessed in the vecinity of the cake WITH a fork but she claims that evidence is only circumstantial in nature. It was tasty anyway!

The ravaged paper, the ravaged cake, the ravaged pizza! This all equals a fun birthday party in my book!

and the grand finale:

After the pizza, cake, and presents, the girls were bundled off for baths and then we all sat around and talked over a wonder My Little Ponies video. There was much huffing and puffing on E's part since we were laughing and joking quite loudly. P-toes manage to get both legs in one leg of her new Tinkerbell pj's (all three girls got a matching set). She looked kinda like Vanna White back in the day, except with a pant leg trailing behind her like Barney's tail. Alas, she had no balance and teetered precariously but Auntie got her straightened out. Essie spun around in a office chair until she got dizzy and fell off, waited a few minutes and did it all again. KT's husband D was petting Toonie in his lap but she got into a little-dog-smackdown with Noodle and one of the girls said, "Daddy, you started a dog fight!" Couldn't you just hear that story later on, "It was my birthday, I got presents and we ate cake then Daddy started a dog fight!" It would have been funny for me, no so much for D.

The evening ended too soon, as all good times must. It was past the girls bed time and I had a long drive back home as well. I bundled myself in my car as KT and D got the girls buckled into their minivan and the party was officially done. I would have been sad except for the fact that there'll be a GiAnT PaRtAy for both girls on Saturday complete with water slide, water sprinkler and various lawn games. I'll miss a good bit of it as I have to work but KT has promised to save a blue cheese burger for me.

Now it's past my bedtime too, night ya'll!

perspective

I don't think I'll be complaining about much for a while. One of the members of KT's bookgroup called to say that the 9 year-old grandson of another member died of liver cancer on Saturday. I just read the journal from caringbridge.org and can truly say, I don't have any problems of any real severity. Here is their final entry, and probably what is in the paper also:

-------- was born May 24, 1999. His life was short but well-lived. He was delighted in and cherished. His talents, intelligence, faith, and imagination were nurtured. He loved his extended family and big family gatherings. The church was a big part of his life. He knew the consolation of true friendship and was a loyal, loving friend. He conquered what many fear most—public performance—and was an enthusiastic pianist. He accompanied his parents to music festivals, concerts, plays, and traveled in the U.S. and around the world. He dreamed of being an engineer and inventor. He loved Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lego and monkeys. He loved to read, and when he no longer had the energy to read, often asked to be read to. We shared a rich and happy, interesting and adventurous nine years. In the end, when he was put through a trial that no one should have to endure, his true nature was revealed to be even more gracious, courageous, and faithful than we had known.

From diagnosis to death, that little boy had 3 weeks. Get outside your house, enjoy the sunshine or the rain or Tropical Storm Fay or a hummingbird or the smell of freshly mown grass. Do something and thank someone, anyone (whatever your religious/spiritual flavor), for your healthy time here. I don't have a case of the Mondays, I didn't yesterday, I was just a person who'd lost their perspective.

I have only vague memories of what my own house was like after my brother died. It was two weeks before my 12th birthday and a week before his 20th birthday. I should say before I turned 12 as I don't remember having a birthday party that year. I may very well have been given one by other members of my family, but my parents didn't know me for a little while and I remember no party. The little boy was an only child so I cannot imagine the quietness and solitude of that house. I hope his parents can see their way out of this and avoid divorce as my parents, and many other couples who've lost a child, did not. My mother still gets teary-eyed and loses her voice if my brother comes up in conversation, so I make a point not to do so unless it can't be avoided. I'm a big chicken in that way. I will avoid sad things at nearly any cost as I hate being sad or upset myself. I don't enjoy movies or books where siblings die and I don't watch or read them if I know about it in advance. I have to work hard not to tear up when I see two siblings having a good time or a laugh together, like T and her brother (even though they sometimes don't see eye to eye) or KT and her sister. I do have a half brother (D, who I've blogged about many times, we have my father in common) and we have a great relationship that I cherish. I guess what it comes down to is that with E, we did not have a good relationship and I disliked him (I don't want to say "hate" but that is what it would have been then) up until the day he died, and then I didn't have a chance to like him or not. Would we have been friends? Would he have had kids that I could love like I do S and C? Would I have gone on vacation with him and whoever he may have married? Would I have liked her as much as I do D's wife? Questions never to be answered.

Sorry to sniffle on ya'll's virtual shoulders. I better go now, the patrons are starting to stare.

a bit of old business

I've been holding on to this article in my bloglines account, intending all the while to blog about it but I am just now getting to, exercising my procrastination talents.

One of my favorite blogs is Jonah Lehrer's, Frontal Cortex. He is the author of Proust Was a Neuroscientist, which I've blogged about before.

He doesn't just examine the thoughts and actions of we humans. Back in early July he posted about the miraculous recovery of many of the pit bulls recovered from Michael Vick, the football quarter back busted for conspiring to run a dogfighting operation. Vick kept about 50 pitbulls on his 15 acre estate in horrid conditions and under horrid conditions. In circumstances like this the dogs are usually humanely euthanized but the judge in this case ordered each dog to be individually evaluated and fined Vick nearly $1 million dollars to pay for the lifelong care of the dogs that could be saved.

brings a tear to m'eye...

quiz time!+

can you guess the movie?

I see a few that I know immediately, but most of the rest will require some deep thought on my part...how did you do?

a case of the Mondays

you ever feel like there's just not enough time to get everything you'd like to accomplish...well, accomplished? Except then I start thinking I'm a dweeb for wanting to get so much done in one day...then I start feeling guilty about my crappy Monday work ethic, or the lack thereof. Before you know it, it's lunchtime, I have a little time to myself but I'm feeling too sorry to enjoy it. Why is that? Is there a doctor in the house?

that being said, I did get started on the two biggest projects causing me distress and finished one, mostly finished the other. My major problem is that I pick this crap as a project that takes a pair of freakin' mental tweezers, not something I can do in broad sweeps, and I choose to work on it at the desk. When you're sitting at the only desk on an entire floor of nonfiction, fiction and reference materials wearing a button that says, "Ask Me!" you don't get a whole lot of administrative crap done. I like the mornings, I can concentrate then. When 6pm rolled around tonight I didn't hang on any longer than I had to even though KT had just gotten in and I could have had a lovely chat. I just wanted my nightgown and my hot, honeyed decaf green tea, ya know?

Let me tell you what I am currently burning up, selling crap on Amazon! I've culled my books, dvd's and cd's of things I'm no longer in love with and have sold 17 items in the past week! I've had to go to the postoffice everyday except Sunday and I would have went then but they are closed of course. I'm really enjoying myself and loving that email message that says, "Sold, Ship Now!". Uh-dict-shun, I tell you! (otherwise known as "addiction") The only drawback is that new sellers have to wait 14 days until the first disbursement of profits and that will be on the 23rd, one day after payday. As I'm down to my last $30 bucks (if you don't count the fact that I'll have to fill up put that in the gas tank tomorrow), I could have used my little windfall a bit earlier but I'll just have to make do, drive slow and hope $30 bucks worth of petrol will get me to Friday!

I'm not saying my ends have to meet, but it'd be nice if they could get close enough to see each other and wave :(

Olympic thoughts

Did you all see the little news piece about the douchbag from Sweden who threw his bronze medal to the podium and stomped off like a two-year old. Allegedly there were some ill-feelings on his part about an allegedly poor officiating mishap which resulted his not being able to compete for the gold medal, where he obviously thought his talents lie (lay?). He had to be physically restrained at one point after the ruling, then he was all huffy about being offered the chance to compete for the bronze medal, which his friends/teammates talked him into doing anyway. He won the medal and decided to cinch his crowning achievement with a fit of pique. This really pisses me off because I firmly believe that whoever came in fourth place would have give one (possibly both) testicles to have gladly taken the third spot on that podium...possibly even with a tear in his manly wrestler eye. What an insult to all the wonderful athletes who've won bronze medals in this competition! He basically called them losers without saying a word.

Also, the ICO voted to remove softball and baseball from the games list after this Olympic session because the United States wins too much (okay, because they are considered "too American" to have worldwide appeal). WTF? Look at our gymnastics and swim team coaching staff. Who are they? Professional gymnasts and swimmers who are from other countries with outstanding histories in each sport. Why? Because they are f$%^ing good at what they do and we want to capitalize on that talent. Instead of wah-wah-wahing all the way home, break out some of the money you're spending trying to keep up and hire a U.S. coach for your softball team. It sounds fair to me. If we're taking other nations' coaches/athletes to improve our teams, you should be able to do the same with no censure from anyone. Have at it, but don't get rid of the sport just because you have a hard time winning it.

Anyway, just my 2cents...feel free to let the filleting begin if you have a differing opinion, you are welcome here too!

night ya'll!

htw

what did he think was going to happen?

It has no arms and would have a hard time eating anything not cut into leeetle teeeny pieeeeces

X-cellent find, Matt!

new fun website!

...for feline companions, that is!

Cats In Sinks!

I love Kevin James!

New viral for a flick called Mall Cop, due out January 19th.

should have been a public @$$ whipping

While there is obviously some stern talking-to going on, this woman calmly scoops up this little girl when she emerges from her little adventure. If it'd been mine, I'd have beat the shit out of her right there in front of everyone to enforce the bad-ideaness of the whole thing. This probably happened a decade ago and it still makes me fume, especially when I see the little girl ignore her, then climb on the pile of animals to smile and wave. I'm like Carol Burnett as Mrs. Hannigan in Annie, "Kill, kill, kill!"

Bad Art Night honorable mentions

I luuurved this one and was disappointed that it did not get more votes. It reminded me of some of the work of the venerable Kenny's Korner!

Our pipecleaner sculpture category: the one on the left won "worst sculpture" while the one on the right competed for "best effort" which ended up going to the painting below.

This was an excellent effort by Kathy. It was just too good! You've obviously done this before, K!

KT's sister's rendering of her dog Noodle and his seemingly ubiquitous puddle of urine. She got only a few votes for "worst painting".

Bad Art Night pics

I can't explain how pleased I was when KT said to me, "Holley, that is truly hideous." I had achieved my primary objective.

It is impressive, no?

Arrrrrrr!

Behold! "Lady with Shirt!"...I hope she kept her receipt. KT, your's was suitably hideous as well. She got more "worst effort" votes than I did, much to my extreme disappointment.

yay for guthrie's again!

I'm telling you, the Guthrie's at Eastwood Mall is continuously putting out good signage. If you'll recall, the last sign they had up advertised the appetizing FINGER SAND COMBO! Now, you can GET THE FINGER!

p.s. That is not a UFO in the middle of the photo, it is my car's oh-so stylishly pitted windshield.

something winged this way comes...

Going back in time a bit, I will relate the tale of woe that was my drive home from the BFE...otherwise known as The Beautiful, Yet Remote, St. George's Island, Florida.

I will reiterate that there was no cell phone reception on St. George's Island and there were at least 3 cell phone carriers represented, including one that supposedly allows a large crowd of it's employees to follow individual subscribers around, if you catch my drift. We had wireless internet from sunup to...well, sunup, but no cell phone reception.

As we all left very sadly of a Saturday morning for the long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long trek back to Birmingham, I had the windows down and the radio on just enjoying life, liberty and the non-pursuit of work. About 30 miles into our trip, as my left hand was riding the breeze outside my car window, something punched me in the left cheek. As it quickly began to sting and I hear some buzzing, madness ensued. I swatted frantically at my cheek and my car, still traveling at a swift 70-75 mph, swerved a bit. I still had not seen my attacker and my frantic mind instantly came up with possibilities Darwin would have been proud of like the buzzing fer-de-lance, the airborne scorpion, or something of an arachnid nature which I flatly refused to think of a moment more.

Actually, it was the gunshot stinging on my chest that took my attention away from my other morbid thoughts. Now I'm swatting at my chest frantically, torqueing my fingers on the seatbelt and, again, swerving all around. I feel something buggy on my hands and see something small being swatted but the driving and the stinging of my cheek and chest are kind of thought consuming.

About 10 minutes later, heart calm but still stinging, I see something in the floorboard out of the corner of my eye. It was a giant wasp crawling around. My only weapon, a 34 load bottle of Gain! I took off my seatbelt, again with the swerving, and SQUASHED HIM! (I thought)

About 20 minutes later, much calmer but still stinging, I hear buzzing near my head and the little bastard had the audacity to survive the Gain-smashing and is buzzing about the window. This time I would brook no arguements! Again, I took off my seatbelt, twisted my leg up to get at my flipflop, and then I REALLY sqaushed him!

I still stung all the way home and itched for days afterward, but I did survive! And no one in our caravan of cars noticed the swerving!

that is all.

! ! ! this just in ! ! !

About 10 minutes ago I had to call 911 because two patrons (a regular couple, though not a pleasant pair of people as patrons go) were having a knock-down-drag-out in the stacks. It was a man (whom we all refer to as Perfume Man due to his flowery cologne) and a woman (whom we all refer to as The Redneck Hippie) and the man was taking the worst of it. They were fighting their way to the desk when I called and, luckily, the police station is across the street so they were here in about 45 seconds. Five police officers came pounding up the stairs, took one look at the guy and said, "Oh, we know you. Get over here!"

Man and woman were taken outside to be questioned, then banned from the library from now on. We are to call the cops if we see them again. After all the bruhaha settled down, Lauren told me the lady had, about 15 or 20 minutes previously, a loud cell phone conversation (ironically enough, in the religion/spirituality section) in which the phrases "Oh great! This is just perfect! As if I'm not miserable enough!" and "You really are the egotistical bastard I thought you were!" figured prominently. I guess he didn't appreciate it.

That is all.

bad art!

We had the finale for our summer reading program for the grownups tonight at the library and it as a BlAsT! We had three categories: paint, collage, or pipecleaner sculpture. There was wine and cheese and truffles and we had a slide show running of selections from the Museum of Bad Art. I will upload my pics asap so you can enjoy the rotteness with me. KT mentioned several times that my collage was hideous...I blushed with pride!

if you haven't read this yet....

. . . .you still can't!

na, na, na, na, na! *raspberry*

Sorry, I couldn't resist. The actual reason you can't read it yet is it won't hit bookstores until Tuesday. I just happened to have been sent an ARC of Andrew Davidson's The Gargoyle by my vast and awesome librarian powers the publisher.

As I've been talking to people over the past several weeks about this book I get all sorts of questions:

Q: Is he the gargoyle?

A: Ummm, in a way?

Q: Is this historical fiction?

A: Ummm, in places?

Q: Is this a love story?

A: Hell yes!

Q: Is this a book about religion?

A: Ummm, sort of?

Q: Is this book about pornography?

A: No. Only tangentially.

The questions go on and on (and are answered through the offices of my OWN OPINION, I might add, and obviously do not reflect the thoughts or opinions of the author, the publisher, the Pope, Snoopy, or the Three Muskateers)

At first I thought it was going to be tragic literary fiction, then I thought it was going to be occult fiction, then I thought it was going to be adult fiction (if you catch my meaning), then I was crying and laughing and I didn't care to try to classify it any more. Stories told by candlelight, epic literary references, tough social themes, heartbreaking love, staggering works of art...all this is yours in the book that touts itself as "all things in a single book bound by love." I don't know if that quote will be on the final edition that is no doubt already sitting in back rooms waiting for closing Monday night, but it should be.

The prepress buzz is humming so loud my fillings are hurting. Here are just a few:

New York Times

USAToday

Wall Street Journal

So, I read the book, put it on my coffee table for a few days and stared at it in wonder, percolated on all that I had read, reread some parts that I had dogeared (hey, it's MY book and it's an ARC! I won't dogear the pages of the copy I buy!), then sent my email into the publisher via the little card they include. Here is my email:

Dear Mr. ____,
I have to start off by saying that I don’t believe I’ve ever read a book quite like this. Weird, dirty in some places, heartbreaking in others…compulsively readable but not for the squeamish. I can hardly wait to start suggesting it to my favorite patrons. Davidson does a better job of demonizing pornography than the dedicated anti-porn crowd, tells one of the most tender love stories I’ve read, gives insight into the life of a burn victim, and peers into the mind of an atheist all while exposing some of the deep-seated secrets of love and human nature.

One of the most powerful moments in the book came for me in the section where he finally gets to shed his pressure garments:

"What an unexpected reversal of fate: only after my skin was burned away did I finally become able to feel. Only after I was born in to physical repulsiveness did I come to glimpse the possibilities of the heart: I accepted this atrocious face and abominable body because they were forcing me to overcome the limitations of who I am, while my previous body allowed me to hide them."

All things in a single book bound by love, indeed.
Thank you for the opportunity to share my thoughts on this title!

Holley ______

I sent it off and didn't really give it another thought until Thursday, when THIS arrived in my inbox!:

Hi Holley,
John _____ passed along the email that you wrote about my novel The Gargoyle, and I hope that you don't mind my forwardness in writing you directly. I just wanted to say that I'm so pleased you enjoyed the book, and to thank you fortaking the time to write such complimentary things. It never fails to delight me when I hear that The Gargoyle has made a good impression on another reader. Near the beginning of The Gargoyle, the narrator writes about how nice the librarians were to him when he was a child. That was very much my experience as well; libraries and librarians have always been very good to me.
Sincerely,
Andrew Davidson

I refuse to believe a personal assistant hurriedly threw together this email and sent it off, so don't even try to convince me. Mr. Davidson is obviously a professional and polite person who recognized those qualities in a fellow bookworm and took time and effort away from his busy schedule to thoughtfully compose a note and send it winging its way here. Yes, that will do very well indeed.

I never change, however, so you can be sure that my first thought when I saw and read was simply:

Cool!