I know I used to do this regularly, and in fact most people also do this, but working full time is taking some getting used to. Blogging has suffered, that's for sure--which is totally unacceptable and I will attempt to rectify this today with this blog, which will be about mail order catalogs.
As ass backwards as this sounds, when I moved I actually signed up to get additional catalogs. Maybe those are coming now; I don't even remember which ones I requested. But catalogs are coming that I know I didn't order, but how interesting they are turning out to be. I really can't get enough of The Vermont Country Store. Sounds like they would carry maple flavored goodies and cheddar cheese. Which they do, but so so much more. They bill themselves as "Purveyors of the Practical and Hard-To-Find." They respond to customer's requests for hard to find items, typically from back in the good old days that are so fabulous that goods today cannot compete. Something needs to justify the arm and the leg they charge for relatively straightforward items. There are pages and pages of sleepwear and muumuus and weird undergarments like "pettipants," a slip to wear under "skirts, culottes or walking shorts." This must appeal to 70 year olds, as no one I know would ever wear a slip under shorts.
There are also nostalgia fragrances like Joy and Elizabeth Arden's Blue Grass. Blue Grass debuted in 1934 and as a matter of fact I clearly remember a container of Blue Grass powder on the table in the third floor bathroom of my grandmother's house. Which if it debuted in '34 and I was seeing it in the 70s was already vintage. But heck. I still wear Halston, which has to be at least 30 years old and I still have a jar of Lauren body cream that I use very occasionally and sparingly. Why doesn't Ralph bring Lauren back, anyway? Perhaps I should suggest this to The Vermont Country Store in about 20 years.
Anyway, The Vermont Country Store seems to have found their niche with old geezers clamoring for the things they could buy 50+ years ago and have the disposable income (hopefully they aren't frittering the pension away on pettipants) to do so. But wait just a minute! On page 78 of their catalog they feature Brach's Jelly Nougat candies. I know these candies well--my dad was a fiend for them-- those chewy nougats with the blobs of hardish multicolored jelly in them. Kind of disgusting, but also sort of good. My Safeway carries these, and they are so not $7.95 a pound. I feel a momentary pang that geezers like my dad might see this and assume that no stores carry his beloved Jelly Nougats anymore and compel him to shell out $7.95 plus $3.95 shipping for these cavity excavating treasures. I will have to stay tuned and pore over subsequent catalogs to see if they are in fact helping the geezers, or provoking paranoia fueled consumption over the loss of familiar items.
Oh and hey, if you're stumped for what to buy Shiloh Nouvel, the newly minted spawn of Brangelina, may I suggest the Chesapeake Cabana from Pottery Barn Kids? It's a safe bet. After all, what child doesn't need a cabana? And the best part is, it's tall enough for most adults, so you may not even need to buy a separate cabana for the parents. Now that's a relief.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
Employment Gets in the Way of Blogging
I am working now--don't get excited, though. I'm a temp, that purgatory of an employment status. I really wish I could blog about the specifics of this city government office but I guess it isn't a good idea. But since only like five people read this, I'm sure I will regale each and every one of you with the intricacies of this office when I see you. For now I will just say that I have called upon my alphabetizing and counting skills, relying heavily upon my ability to nod pleasantly. Overall not too bad. Really a vast improvement over the last assignment the agency offered, which was to be stapling posters to sticks for an organization about to go on strike. I turned that one down.
Okay, Honey is here and we are going to watch History of Violence. I just watched Red Eye--excellent! That Cillian Murphy does a great job of transforming himself from a sympathetic guy into a wheezing psycho with a pen jammed in his windpipe. Good stuff.
But what I really wanted to say is that Adam's band Bedroom Walls has their new CD coming out May 23. You can download some MP3s from their site, if that's the kind of thing you do, to see if you want to buy it, or more realistically, copy it from me.
Okay, Honey is here and we are going to watch History of Violence. I just watched Red Eye--excellent! That Cillian Murphy does a great job of transforming himself from a sympathetic guy into a wheezing psycho with a pen jammed in his windpipe. Good stuff.
But what I really wanted to say is that Adam's band Bedroom Walls has their new CD coming out May 23. You can download some MP3s from their site, if that's the kind of thing you do, to see if you want to buy it, or more realistically, copy it from me.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Truisms du Jour + Media Picks
#1. The state of being Kennedy is a blessing and a curse.
On the plus side: a thick head of hair, fabulous Hyannisport compound, great liberal tradition. On the minus side: tendency to die young in a spectacular fashion, alcoholism, drug addiction, womanizing and a variety of legal entanglements stemming from above vices.
Today's Kennedy brouhaha concerns Representative Patrick Kennedy, son of Senator Ted Kennedy. In the early hours of Thursday, he was observed by Capitol police driving without his lights. After nearly being swiped by Kennedy, Capitol police tailed him until he crashed into a median. Mr. Kennedy was in the car by himself and no one was hurt. But it's what happened next that raised some eyebrows. According to today's Times article,
#2. Privilege, especially of the Kennedy variety, can shield you from the potentially unpleasant consequences of your behavior.
Patrick need look no further for affirmation than his dad, who has had more than his fair share of legal entanglements, most famously in the Chappaquiddick incident. In 1969, Ted Kennedy, wife and kids back at home, was driving home from a party accompanied by secretary Mary Jo Kopechne. He drove off a bridge and into a body of water. Though Kennedy escaped, Kopechne remained trapped in the car. Kennedy made several calls, including one to his lawyer, before calling for help for Kopechne, who was found dead in the submerged car. A definitive cause of death was never determined, as no autopsy was performed. Mr. Kennedy was given a two month suspended sentence for leaving the scene of a crime. It is thought that this incident precluded him from ever being a President. Not quite the same, the consequences suffered by the families involved: loss of a daughter, abandoning Presidential hope.
As to his son Patrick, we'll see what happens, if anything. Kennedy, who has struggled publicly with alcohol and cocaine addiction, is blaming Ambien and claiming he requested no preferential treatment from police. Both may be true, as Ambien has a host of side effects including sleepwalking. The responding officers maintain they smelled alcohol on his breath but were ordered by their superiors to take Kennedy home, eliminating the need for Kennedy to request preferential treatment. Could law enforcement have internalized the need to protect the wealthy and privileged from themselves?
Dominick Dunne seems to think so, and this ties into the second part of today's post, summer media picks. Dunne, novelist, columnist for Vanity Fair, and Court TV commentator is quite concerned with how the very rich manage to weasel their way out of any scrape big or small. Unsurprisingly, Dunne is no friend of the Kennedy's, owing to his dogged pursuit of justice in the Martha Moxley murder in which Michael Skakel, a cousin of Bobby Kennedy, served 20 years for murder. A Season in Purgatory is the novelization of the Moxley case and a terrific page-turning beach read.
Other summer media picks ...
Trapped Inside the House Due to Three Hour Rainstorm: Gandhi. It's long but well worth watching the transformation of a young lawyer into the leader of non-violent civil resistance, culminating in Indian independence from the British.
Beachside, Baking into Stupefaction: The Starter Wife by Gigi Levangie Grazer. Total fluff, silly pat ending, but some very funny stuff in the middle as the wife of a Hollywood studio exec is dumped her ambitious husband.
Under an Umbrella Nursing a Bad Sunburn: Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. Didion faced the sudden death of her husband writer John Dunne (Dominick's brother) in the midst of her daughter Quintana's catastrophic illness and hospitalizations.
Feeling Better, Even Saucy: The Yes Men, political pranksters posing as members of the WTO whose mischief highlights the absurdity of globalization and corporate greed. Hilarious.
On the plus side: a thick head of hair, fabulous Hyannisport compound, great liberal tradition. On the minus side: tendency to die young in a spectacular fashion, alcoholism, drug addiction, womanizing and a variety of legal entanglements stemming from above vices.
Today's Kennedy brouhaha concerns Representative Patrick Kennedy, son of Senator Ted Kennedy. In the early hours of Thursday, he was observed by Capitol police driving without his lights. After nearly being swiped by Kennedy, Capitol police tailed him until he crashed into a median. Mr. Kennedy was in the car by himself and no one was hurt. But it's what happened next that raised some eyebrows. According to today's Times article,
"Roll Call, a Capitol Hill newspaper, said a police union official had written a letter to the Capitol police chief asserting that Mr. Kennedy appeared to be staggering when he left his car. But, it said, police officers at the scene were not allowed by their supervisors to perform a sobriety test. Roll Call quoted the letter as saying Capitol police officials gave Mr. Kennedy a ride home."
#2. Privilege, especially of the Kennedy variety, can shield you from the potentially unpleasant consequences of your behavior.
Patrick need look no further for affirmation than his dad, who has had more than his fair share of legal entanglements, most famously in the Chappaquiddick incident. In 1969, Ted Kennedy, wife and kids back at home, was driving home from a party accompanied by secretary Mary Jo Kopechne. He drove off a bridge and into a body of water. Though Kennedy escaped, Kopechne remained trapped in the car. Kennedy made several calls, including one to his lawyer, before calling for help for Kopechne, who was found dead in the submerged car. A definitive cause of death was never determined, as no autopsy was performed. Mr. Kennedy was given a two month suspended sentence for leaving the scene of a crime. It is thought that this incident precluded him from ever being a President. Not quite the same, the consequences suffered by the families involved: loss of a daughter, abandoning Presidential hope.
As to his son Patrick, we'll see what happens, if anything. Kennedy, who has struggled publicly with alcohol and cocaine addiction, is blaming Ambien and claiming he requested no preferential treatment from police. Both may be true, as Ambien has a host of side effects including sleepwalking. The responding officers maintain they smelled alcohol on his breath but were ordered by their superiors to take Kennedy home, eliminating the need for Kennedy to request preferential treatment. Could law enforcement have internalized the need to protect the wealthy and privileged from themselves?
Dominick Dunne seems to think so, and this ties into the second part of today's post, summer media picks. Dunne, novelist, columnist for Vanity Fair, and Court TV commentator is quite concerned with how the very rich manage to weasel their way out of any scrape big or small. Unsurprisingly, Dunne is no friend of the Kennedy's, owing to his dogged pursuit of justice in the Martha Moxley murder in which Michael Skakel, a cousin of Bobby Kennedy, served 20 years for murder. A Season in Purgatory is the novelization of the Moxley case and a terrific page-turning beach read.
Other summer media picks ...
Trapped Inside the House Due to Three Hour Rainstorm: Gandhi. It's long but well worth watching the transformation of a young lawyer into the leader of non-violent civil resistance, culminating in Indian independence from the British.
Beachside, Baking into Stupefaction: The Starter Wife by Gigi Levangie Grazer. Total fluff, silly pat ending, but some very funny stuff in the middle as the wife of a Hollywood studio exec is dumped her ambitious husband.
Under an Umbrella Nursing a Bad Sunburn: Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. Didion faced the sudden death of her husband writer John Dunne (Dominick's brother) in the midst of her daughter Quintana's catastrophic illness and hospitalizations.
Feeling Better, Even Saucy: The Yes Men, political pranksters posing as members of the WTO whose mischief highlights the absurdity of globalization and corporate greed. Hilarious.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Stop the Presses! Vatican Might Condone Saving Lives!
Have you heard? Pope Benedict XVI, who is turning out to be less of a hard liner than I feared, is raising the question of whether the Church might, in cases when one member of a married heterosexual couple is HIV+, allow condom use to prevent transmission to the uninfected partner.
I know, I know. Have they completely lost their minds? But in an atypically forward thinking manner, Pope Benedict must be considering that the fastest growing number of Catholics are in Africa, where coincidentally, there are also the highest rates of HIV infection. Hence, rethinking the ban on condoms. It's like a restaurant, after thousands of customers have died from e coli infections, instituting handwashing and wearing gloves for staff handling food. Making changes to business practice to prevent killing all the customers. How do these guys think of this stuff? I stand in awe.
Apparently when weighed against the death of a heterosexual married Catholic, condom use would be the "lesser evil," but certainly not preferable to abstinence, of course. Abstinence within marriage, now that's an idea about to have its day!
After all this hand-wringing, folks that study the issue say that the Pope may make no change at all but rather, "vigorously re-endorse ethically acceptable answers to the AIDS crisis, namely, the virtue of chastity and abstinence," according to Reverend Thomas Berg, executive director of the Westchester Institute, an institute for Catholic studies in New York
Hopefully in his studies, the Pope will also peruse the UNAIDS 2005 update concerning Sub-Saharan Africa, which reminds us that although this area accounts for 10% of the world's population, it accounts for 60% of HIV infections. Of course we'll stay tuned and hope like hell, er, heck, that this Pope will be able to throw off the mantle of church doctrine and consider the lives of the actual people that comprise the Catholic Church.
In an unrelated matter, my plug for favorite new snack: the Trader Joe's Soytzel. A cross between a pretzel and a bread stick, the Soytzel is packed with 6.5 grams of soy protein and 20% of your daily fiber in one serving, a measly 7 Soytzels. I've eaten that many just sitting here typing! Name one other salty snack food that can help keep you regular and provide you with heart healthy soy protein! None! Okay, I don't really know if there is another, but check out the Soytzel at a TJs location near you.
I know, I know. Have they completely lost their minds? But in an atypically forward thinking manner, Pope Benedict must be considering that the fastest growing number of Catholics are in Africa, where coincidentally, there are also the highest rates of HIV infection. Hence, rethinking the ban on condoms. It's like a restaurant, after thousands of customers have died from e coli infections, instituting handwashing and wearing gloves for staff handling food. Making changes to business practice to prevent killing all the customers. How do these guys think of this stuff? I stand in awe.
Apparently when weighed against the death of a heterosexual married Catholic, condom use would be the "lesser evil," but certainly not preferable to abstinence, of course. Abstinence within marriage, now that's an idea about to have its day!
After all this hand-wringing, folks that study the issue say that the Pope may make no change at all but rather, "vigorously re-endorse ethically acceptable answers to the AIDS crisis, namely, the virtue of chastity and abstinence," according to Reverend Thomas Berg, executive director of the Westchester Institute, an institute for Catholic studies in New York
Hopefully in his studies, the Pope will also peruse the UNAIDS 2005 update concerning Sub-Saharan Africa, which reminds us that although this area accounts for 10% of the world's population, it accounts for 60% of HIV infections. Of course we'll stay tuned and hope like hell, er, heck, that this Pope will be able to throw off the mantle of church doctrine and consider the lives of the actual people that comprise the Catholic Church.
In an unrelated matter, my plug for favorite new snack: the Trader Joe's Soytzel. A cross between a pretzel and a bread stick, the Soytzel is packed with 6.5 grams of soy protein and 20% of your daily fiber in one serving, a measly 7 Soytzels. I've eaten that many just sitting here typing! Name one other salty snack food that can help keep you regular and provide you with heart healthy soy protein! None! Okay, I don't really know if there is another, but check out the Soytzel at a TJs location near you.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Better Than a Shot of Wheatgrass
Darfur. The proposed 700 mile anti-immigrant wall. Iraq. Gas prices. It's enough to get a girl down. But whenever I need a little pick me up about the state of the world, I just turn on Maury, the feel-good daytime talk show hosted by Maury Povitch, who's in a hell of a lot of hot water right about now owing to being slapped with a 100 million sexual harassment suit. But we're not going to dwell in the gutter of the negative today. This is about being uplifted.
What an exhilarating ride! Hardly a show goes by without a physical fight, hurling of chairs, name calling and women running backstage and collapsing in humiliation. The security detail on this show is no joke. These are the people I want screening luggage at the airport. Or the person who bleeps out the curses--that's a person paying attention. Long minutes go by with only Maury's voice making it past the vigilant bleeper.
Wikipedia has a thorough description of the show if you want to read up. Typical shows include, Mom, You Need to Know ... My Sister and I are Prostitutes; We Both Slept with You ... We'll Prove Our Two Kids Are Yours; I Cheated with Two Men ... Our Baby May Not Be Yours. Etc.
If you've seen Maury, then you know that "desperate moms" and "devastating paternity results" are his specialty. For some reason I'm working to comprehend, women unsure of their baby's paternity think network television is a good place to find out. Maury interviews the moms and alleged dads, then dramatically reveals the results of DNA testing by saying, "In the matter of Joey, 19 months, you are/not the father." Chaos usually ensues; often the mom runs backstage and faints/swoons/cowers in a corner while the cleared man whoops, cheers and calls her a ho. Sometimes the man doesn't care and still wants to be involved. Those shows are full of teary heartfelt promises, and sue me, slightly boring. Other shows trot out the baby to meet their 'new dad,' and the kid understandably cries uncontrollably. Even more fascinating, when the alleged dad turns out to be the bio dad, the mom appears to be strangely let down, as if she was hoping for a dramatic end to her relationship.
Ah, Maury. I sure hope this lawsuit doesn't sink you. When I'm full of despair I watch Dwarves Finding Love, or Girl or Dude? or Tameeka bringing a tenth man onto the show in hopes of finding her baby's daddy and I realize, hey. We're okay. We're really, really good.
What an exhilarating ride! Hardly a show goes by without a physical fight, hurling of chairs, name calling and women running backstage and collapsing in humiliation. The security detail on this show is no joke. These are the people I want screening luggage at the airport. Or the person who bleeps out the curses--that's a person paying attention. Long minutes go by with only Maury's voice making it past the vigilant bleeper.
Wikipedia has a thorough description of the show if you want to read up. Typical shows include, Mom, You Need to Know ... My Sister and I are Prostitutes; We Both Slept with You ... We'll Prove Our Two Kids Are Yours; I Cheated with Two Men ... Our Baby May Not Be Yours. Etc.
If you've seen Maury, then you know that "desperate moms" and "devastating paternity results" are his specialty. For some reason I'm working to comprehend, women unsure of their baby's paternity think network television is a good place to find out. Maury interviews the moms and alleged dads, then dramatically reveals the results of DNA testing by saying, "In the matter of Joey, 19 months, you are/not the father." Chaos usually ensues; often the mom runs backstage and faints/swoons/cowers in a corner while the cleared man whoops, cheers and calls her a ho. Sometimes the man doesn't care and still wants to be involved. Those shows are full of teary heartfelt promises, and sue me, slightly boring. Other shows trot out the baby to meet their 'new dad,' and the kid understandably cries uncontrollably. Even more fascinating, when the alleged dad turns out to be the bio dad, the mom appears to be strangely let down, as if she was hoping for a dramatic end to her relationship.
Ah, Maury. I sure hope this lawsuit doesn't sink you. When I'm full of despair I watch Dwarves Finding Love, or Girl or Dude? or Tameeka bringing a tenth man onto the show in hopes of finding her baby's daddy and I realize, hey. We're okay. We're really, really good.
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