Boo!

Happy Halloween to all! It just dawned on me the other day how much I love Halloween. I think I used to like it for the candy, and the being able to stay up a little later than normal on a school night aspects. But recently I’ve discovered just how much I enjoy dressing up. It’s the only time of year where an fully-functioning and responsible adult can dress up like a complete freak and go to work like usual. Come to think of it, I think we need more excuses to dress up throughout the year- maybe just make President’s Day a costume-optional holiday? Or perhaps something in summer? The elite group of Cabin Creekers in Easton Washington take dressing up for the 4th of July “parade” quite seriously, yet how many hundreds of thousands of Americans don’t have this luxury?

Please, write your senators today.


So…. Comments heard today so far:

“I see. Yes. Well what we’d need to address first is your overall asset allocation, specifically how you are positioning your fixed-income in this rising interest rate environment…” Spoken by a woman in a full-on witch costume complete with very scary make-up.

-and-

"Right, while that may be true, I’m concerned that you’re not taking a global perspective on the current energy crisis. There’s a lot more to consider than just the price you’re paying at the pump…” from the fake-beard covered mouth of a man dressed as one of the 7 dwarves.

Excellent. I love this day. I love that while many in the office don’t dress up at all, the ones who do go all the way.

Today, I am Bird Flu. I’m wearing pajamas, a robe with Kleenex in the pockets and I’m sporting a Parrot Hat. The parrot is wearing a face mask (made popular across Asia by 2004’s SARS virus). I’ve had to put a few “Quarantine” stickers on my robe to help people “get it.”

And the best part about Halloween is that it usually entails a party, which means yet another occasion to dress up in another costume (especially if you subscribe to the "just add 'slutty' to any character and make it a costume" theory, like "Slutty Girl Scout, Slutty Cop, Slutty Nurse, etc. Can't very well wear those ones to work). Saturday at Eric’s 2nd annual Halloween Bash, I followed last years theme of dressing as a famous red head. Last year I was Lindsey Lohan. This year I took it back a few years, threw in one Cuban-American love interest and was Lucy.

Lucy and Ricky. It worked. Though I admit, I did use a temporary hair dye to turn the red up a few notches. It was almost glowing. I was concerned while I was teasing my hair and gluing on my fake eyelashes that I was starting to look more like a drag queen than a screw-ball redhead, but I think I kept it under control.

So here are the pictures:


Why is it that “Lucy, you’ve got some ‘splaining to dooooo” never stops being funny?

So, where is Little Ricky after all?


A full body shot so you can see Ricky’s suit and my shoes that I got at Payless for $7.00, that I fully intend to wear in “real life”


A close up of the hair, that was more of an abyss. Someone asked me if it was a wig. Nope, just really teased. Lindsey was Little Red Riding Hood.


The Real Thing

Several years ago I was Daphne at a costume party, so now I’m starting to wonder if I might run out of red heads to dress as in the future. Perhaps I’ll have to recycle a few ideas… God willing, I’ll never have to resort to Annie. And God willing, I’ll be able to control myself around copious amounts of candy in the office today to prevent all of my teeth from rotting out spurring an premature need for dentures.

Photo’s of Bird Flu to follow.

Gaysploitation

LOS ANGELES -
George Takei, who as helmsman Sulu steered the Starship Enterprise through three television seasons and six movies, has come out as a homosexual in the current issue of Frontiers, a biweekly Los Angeles magazine covering the gay and lesbian community.

How do you know that your career is beyond past-tense? Hum… I’m guessing its when you decide to out yourself and reap the benefits of once again being embraced by a community of followers and getting fan mail. I mean really, if I were this guys partner of 18 years, I might find myself asking:

“Darling, so where was I when you were in your Starship Enterprise hay-day? I guess you didn’t need us then…”

which might even lead into accusatory:

“Okay, great. I see how it is. I only exist in your life when it’s convenient for your career!?! Is that the way its going to be??”

Which would naturally be followed with:

“What about MY career George? Did you ever think about how difficult it was for ME to always have to go solo to my engineering firm’s holiday parties??”

And end with a passive-aggressive:

“Were you even going to discuss this with me first? I thought we were a team! By the way, your weird voice has creeped me out for 18 years!!”

-end scene-

Anyway…. I’m going to call it gaysploitation. I’m so flippin’ proud of myself for making up a new word. I hope it becomes trendy and “it” and “now” –and I hope I can somehow capitalize on it…

Defined: The exploitation of ones homosexuality to renew interest in a celebrity career that has by all accounts, jumped the shark many, many moons ago. Examples include: Anne Heche and the more recent George Takei, AKA Sulu of TV’s Star Trek.

Do you want a ticket...

To the GUN SHOW?!???

Ah, that joke just never stops being funny… to me at least.

I’m glad my teaser photo yesterday had the desired effect to illicit comments like “What?!? I thought you were a tree hugger??” I always like to keep you all guessing!

So it all started with a hypothetical discussion about gun ownership:

J: I want to have a gun in my house.

G: Are you insane? Why ever would you do such a thing? I don’t like guns. In fact, that might even be a deal-breaker for me.

J: What is this crazy-talk woman? Have you ever even seen a real gun before?

G: Do I LOOK like a shooter?

J: Gosh!

G: Fine!

Both: Okay, want to go for a bike ride? Yay!

Enter the neighbor; a retired Marine helicopter gunner/retired sheriff’s department guy (are they called deputies? Officers? Cops??). This is the guy who has every power tool known to man, (including a totally sweet miter saw, which I have to admit, made installing laminate flooring both a pleasure and an honor.) He’s just the nicest most helpful person in the world. Always offering to lend a helping hand (or miter saw, as it were) AND his wife makes really good cookies that are offered in abundance.

This guy teaches gun safety classes now (when he’s not organizing his garage or going on walks around the neighborhood with said cookie-making wife) and he offered to share some of his know-how with me. (True to form with his super helpful nature).

I just ran a google images search for “grandfather and gun” to see if I could find a graphic depiction of someone who was both grandfatherly and a sporting a weapon, to give you a visual idea of who I was talking about, but this was all I could find. Not really on the right track at all, but who doesn’t love a top hat?



Okay- So we went over to his garage for a tutorial on guns and amo. And safety. Lots to learn. I did a lot of smiling and nodding. Lots of caliber, millimeter, trigger, hammer, dual action, automatic v. semiautomatic talk. Lots of “Uh huh’s” from me.

Onward to the North Whidbey Sportsmen's Association shooting range (which today at least, would have to be a “sportsperson’s” shooting range).

There were two other groups there, they were shooting clay pigeons with riffles. Not us, we brought the hand guns only. I mean really, how am I going to learn how to “bust a 9” unless I well, bust a 9.?

As we were getting started, after the first few shots, I looked out beyond our targets (which were not very far away- actually, they were pretty damned close: I’d like to consider myself a natural sharp-shooter, but really, even I needed some “Ladies tees”). About 50 yards out from where we were standing, at ground level (the range is dug down about 5+ feet so your bullets doing just going flying willy-nilly into the open woods…) was a young deer. Just eating some grass, looking at us, and enjoying the sound of bullets cracking through the air. He was a boy-deer. Of course. If he were a human boy, I bet he’d be the kind of boy who lit of fire crackers in his hand and threw them at people. Dumb-ass.

You can kind of see him, but his coat is on the cutting edge of camouflage technology.


So we shot guns. And I learned about how they work and how to use them. I remember the basics, but still wouldn’t chose the have one on my own. But I feel somewhat okay with the idea of having one in my domicile. Because truth be told, when it comes to protection, Daphne isn’t nearly as vicious as she looks.

Y'all are just too nice

Thanks for the supportive comments about Lefty, my left eye which is taunting me with fine lines and signs of aging. I'm trying to drink more water (mint tea actually, as its the only thing that keeps me from coughing all day lately- have a bit of a cold) and I got a tiny bottle of somethingorother from Clinique this weekend that had the word "eye" in the product name, and it has SPF, so I figure it can't hurt. Unless I get it IN my eye. In that case actually, it would hurt quite a bit...

Anyway- I need to post about my weekend fun, frolic and political platforms (specifically, my new, "I'll try it before I judge it" policy) but can't seem to find a quiet moment in which to compartmentalize my thoughts for you all. So for now, I'll just leave you with a teaser photo:



Story coming soon...

Look into my eyes... deeper...you are getting sleepy...

Okay, I have to start by saying: I’m not objected to getting older. As I’ve mentioned before, I think I’m getting better and better with each passing year. BUT- I couldn’t help but notice, that when I look through recent pictures, I seem to be on the advanced track for signs of aging. Specifically, wrinkles around my eyes. On their own merits, I don’t really mind the fine lines. But when I realize how quickly they are becoming less and less “fine,” I get a bit concerned and start thinking that maybe spending $50 on a half-ounce jar of wonder serum sold by someone the a lap coat and a GED at the mall might not be such a bad idea after all.

I’ve always had dry skin, which seemed to be a good thing as a teen and early adolescent, because I never had to deal with a big acne problem. However: dry skin comes back to bite you in the butt because apparently you really need to take care of it as soon as you hit, oh, 25 or so. But I haven’t been doing such a good job of this I guess.

Behold! Yet another photographic essay; this time of "Lefty," my left eye!

Here’s Lefty in college:

This is just a cropped, close-up of the picture of the one I took of the composite photo (featured in my WSU Homecoming post). It’s not the clearest photo, so perhaps this isn’t a good baseline for comparing apples to apples, but it’s the best I can do under the “I didn’t have a digital camera back then” circumstances.

While it’s a bit fuzzy, there are no visible signs of fine lines/wrinkles.


Jump forward about 9 years to May 2005: This was taken at Lindsey’s birthday Party. Not bad, but I think I had more fine lines than the average 26 year old:



Hop ahead again 4 months to this past September. This is Lefty after enjoying some cake at a wedding in Oak Harbor: It now officially looks like I have a bear claw in the corner of my eye:



Here’s one shot from last weekend on Friday evening in Pullman, the night we got into town: The bear claw has grown and blended into a nice flowing wave. I AM a water sign, and I have been swimming more lately, but I’m not a fan of these waves:


Now, here’s the one that made me freak out in the first place. This is Lefty the morning of the football game in Pullman last weekend:


Yes, that really is MY eye, not my grandmother’s.


I couldn’t help but think, ‘Do my eyes really look like that?!?” and “Hum, maybe I shouldn’t smile so much,” and “I wonder if I would have nicer looking eyes if I weren’t laughing 98% of the time?” So I figured I could cut back on laughing AT other people, but laughing WITH other people was not something I wanted to eliminate, or even cut back. So to be fair to myself, I looked closer at the last picture, and blew it up to the size that you’re now seeing. And then I remembered how I went out and had (more than) a couple of beers the night before. And how I left my eye make-up remover at home and had the previous day’s remnants of mascara still lingering around my eyes… And that made me feel a little better. I love excuses…

And after all, when I’m not smiling, I’m more or less okay. Here’s a picture of me at Beth’s wedding last month. It was a rare shot where I had a neutral expression on my face, so I wasn’t in my normal squinty smile:


I can still see the fine lines, but they’re not bad. I can live with them. I might even learn to love them.

But am I still going to spend WAY too much money this weekend at the Clinique counter on some little bottle(s) of wonder serum? Unfortunately, all signs point to yes.

Welcome to the world inside my head. It's quite fluffy these days.

My premeditated fun activity of the day today was going to be looking for a "Stay Golden" T-shirt online to see if I could find the same one the girl at The Coug was wearing in Pullman. I did find one, but it was at a site called bust.com, in their "Boobtique", which is essentially a collection of trendy silly t-shirts in women’s cuts (what, are they all tight? Best be sure to get one size bigger than normal...). Made me wonder why companies don’t court more business from people who are online shopping while at work. I mean really, who’s going to feel comfortable with their network administrator looking over a purchase at bust.com’s boobtique??? I think a better idea would be to have say, an e-bay or amazon.com type or retailer, but call its website "2005/2006 biannual cash-flow statement of Omnec Inc." They might get a fair amount of business from cubicle dwellers. Just an idea.

But anyway- I bought the t-shirt (in a size L instead of an M), and it should be arriving in a few days. Very excited, but I am dealing with feeling slightly ashamed for making a purchase at a "Boobtique."

I’m not sure why I have a fascination with the Golden Girls, other than the fact that it has one of the best theme songs of all time, and it was on Saturday Nights when I was growing up, which was one of the few nights that I was allowed to watch TV. I also really liked Empty Nest which followed the show, but mostly because of the dog. I think his name was Bacchus. No, that was my 3rd grade teacher’s dog’s name. The dog on the show was named Dreyfuss. (God I love the internet!) The show also starred Christy McNichol, though at the time, I really didn’t realize how cool she had been in her teen/child-star years. I liked her character, and I always thought she would be a cool older sister. Even though I have two real-life older sisters who are, by all accounts, cool enough on their own merits.
Wait… now I remember, Empty Nest was a spin-off of Golden Girls. That’s right… I think Blanche, in all of her lasciviousness, wanted to date the main character- what was his name anyway? Richard? Harry? He was a pediatrician though, I am certain of that.

Flash bulb moment: Here’s a great use of "Jump the shark:"

The TV show Empty Nest jumped the shark when the original Dr’s office closed and they started working out of a neighborhood clinic. Just took the show in too much of a public health direction. Sheesh. No one wants to see doctors treating kids on Medicaid, we just want to sit at home on Saturday nights and watch lovable doctors treat upper-middle class kids who are covered by their financially secure parents’ insurance plans. Duh…

Dangit. My mind is now racing with late-80’s, early 90’s nonsense. I was going to write today’s post about the new trend off silly logo t-shirts. I was going to pose the question of:

Are printed T’s of ’05 what flannel button-downs were to ’95?

Well, okay, I was originally going to write about libraries and how great they are. How much I love them, and how much I’m reminded of this every time I step into one- which always makes me think, "I should come here more often!" but then I never seem to…

I promise, it was going to be very thoughtful and well-worded. Honest, I swear! It was going to counter last nights post about going back to Pullman for homecoming where I essentially did nothing to rekindle, or even maintain normal brain-cell activity. Dangit! And now here I am itching to talk more about Golden Girls. And its spin-off, Empty Nest. And you know what’s worse? Are you sure you want to know? After that, I want to talk about the spin-off of the spin-off. Yeah, I want to talk about "Nurses." I might even want to do a whole post on Park Overall. Where is she now anyway?

Have there been any successful spin-offs since Frasier? Though "Joey" is in its second season, should we really count it/consider it "successful"?

Can you imagine how successful I would be if I didn’t have these questions running through my head all day? But I guess this brings me back full-circle, because at this point I need to say: Thank God for libraries, where I can come on my lunch break and use the internet to release these thoughts from my mind. Is that actually healthy? Or does releasing the thoughts just make room for new ones?

Is blogging like milking your mental cow? If you keep milking/blogging does your cow/mind keep producing milk/(what most reasonable people would consider) random and inconsequential thoughts? Is there a way to wean myself off of blogging so that these thoughts will gradually dwindle as my mind reduces supply in reaction to a reduced demand?

If I quit blogging cold-turkey will I experience mental engorgement and possible mental infections?

Should I make a t-shirt that reads: "Milk Your Mental Cow: Blog" ??

Cripes. I think I need to go to grad school or something, as this is what happens when you are not mentally exhausted on a routine basis. Such unguided thought pollution can’t be good for the environment.

For Better Or Worse, We Coug'd It

For a definition of what it is to, “Coug it” please see Erik’s blog at http://gus008.blogspot.com/2005/08/cougn-it.html . So, when all was glorious and right with the world, and we were up by 3+ touchdowns against UCLA, I took a photo of the score board as proof that we really were winning.
I’m glad I took the photo, because of course we blew this lead entirely and went into overtime, where we promptly lost the damned game. Damnit!

But we still had a “moderate to high” amount of fun, so all was certainly not lost.

But before I recap MY weekend, I want to spend some time talking about my friend Jennifer, who is by all accounts, the paradigm example of an “All-American Girl.” Some might even venture to call her, “America’s Sweetheart.” Imagine a little blue-eyed, blonde girl who looks sporty and chic in a baseball cap, and who can verbally throw-down when it comes to just about any recognized sport in the whole wide world. Well, maybe not the whole wide world, but if it’s a sport sanctioned by the NCAA, chances are quite good that she can hold her own. It should be noted that she is also an astute horsewoman.

I believe Miss Jennifer grew up in Issaquah, WA. I’m positive that she went to high school with me in Sammamish WA, college at Washington State, and her parents now live in Daphne Alabama. (No, no relation to my coonhound, but I’m pretty sure they moved there because of the pretty name). After a brief stint in Bellevue, WA she now lives in Chicago. With parents near the gulf coast, roots in the ‘burbs of Seattle, and a primary residence in the Heartland, Miss Jennifer mentioned to me the other day that she didn’t really know where her “home” was. And to that I say: Jennifer, where ever a ball is thrown, hit, caught or dunked, wherever there are bases stolen or yards rushed; THAT is your home. You are at home in another dimension – the dimension of sports. Own it. Love it. Share your gift with the world! Or at least develop a Euro-pop line of clothing for pre-teens called “SportLife Jenni Vohn” (and say that with a thick German accent). And dot the “i” with a star!!

So: Why the long intro about Jennifer? Why not just jump to the good times and shenanigans about this weekend?!? Well if you must know, Jennifer was a member of an elite secret-squirrel team who flew the WSU flag over the air-waves in the background of ESPN’s College Game Day programming this weekend, during coverage of the USC/Notre Dame game. That’s right friends, you are that much closer to fame JUST by association.

For those not in the know, the Cougar flag (Ole’ Crimson) has been making appearances at College Game Day broadcasts since the beginning of last year. It seriously travels to every single broadcast, no matter the game, conference location etc. While it is not flown by the same person, it IS the same flag. Talk about your grassroots marketing efforts! From what I can tell, this all started because some fans wanted ESPN to cover Cougar games, and is in no way officially sanctioned by the university.

So this weekend ESPN College Game Day was in South Bend Indiana at Notre Dame, and Jennifer et al received the flag and made the trek out to wave the flag with pride. What an honor! What a Coug! What a gal!

Okay, so onward we go:

I woke up Friday morning with an little extra lilt in my step, not only because my super-fly boyfriend was coming to town, but also because we were going to leave for Pullman that afternoon, where everything is magical and covered in gold. Okay, where everything is fun and covered in sticky beer.

The ride over was characterized by about 6 hours of intensive singing and karaoke-style dramatic presentation. Added to the mix were some nice air instrument moves. Highlight: learning that J is quite possibly the best air drummer in the world. Even a little better that ME (which few can say). And he can twirl his sticks. Throw a couple of red checkers on the soul-mate scale.

But add a black checker on the soul-mate scale for a scary devil eyebrow…

Spooky!

Friday night highlights were checking into the Palouse Inn in Moscow, ID which is one of the few remaining hotels that has actual keys. The hotel kind of reminded me of the hotels where the drug busts would go down in the TV show Hunter. I think the doors were made of balsa wood. It’s a good think I didn’t lose the keys, but if I did, I surely would have been able to kick down the door with ease. But the rooms were clean, and, well, they had vacancies.

Went to the Coug on Friday evening and it was packed as ever. Our friend Bob now OWNS the place, which is fabulous, and it was great to see that some key names are still on the walls:

Here’s Erik AKA “Gus”

And here’s a little shout out to your favorite sisters (can one make a shout out to one’s self?)

Sharpie Marker on varnished bathroom stall wall. This work was compiled between the years 1993 and 2000. Artist of origin are believed to be not one, but two Hund-o-matic sisters. Original base work of “HundlXX” is believed to have been created upon the eve of graduation of a Miss Lisaopolis circa 1993, while the later addition of “Gina and Lisa -à ‘93 and ‘00” is believed to have been added to the work in the summer of Y2K when the younger matriculate experienced a Greek-letter sorority function referred to as, “Open to Close.”

My mission of the night: find a young, unsuspecting KD and acquire the house door code. Mission accomplished. Door codes for your old sorority houses are KEY if you really want to be known as the obnoxious alumnae who break into the house, make a lot of noise, let their boyfriends/husbands eat bagels, and run around the house looking at old composite pictures while sighing, “oh my gawd…. I can’t believe we’re in the basement now!!”

So we did that for a while, which was fun. And here’s a little composite picture joy for you all. This was from my sophomore year, when I was still fairly uptight and thought many things like grades, rules, and policies were very, very important.

(FYI, this picture was in the TV room; we’re not the basement… yet)

And no, we didn’t really “break in,” as there were some girls up hanging out in the foyer and living room. I was delighted to find them both lovely and hospitable. Very nice, upstanding young ladies. But really- who would expect anything less?

The next morning we set out for Pullman, sporting our crimson for all to see. I am very pleased with my purchase of a “WSU Girls Rock” t-shirt from the University Book Store here in Bellevue. Very pleased indeed. I was also quite pleased to see Jose in a Cougar Tee. Nearly brought tears to these eyes.

The game was fabulous at first, it felt like the stock market in 2000. We could do no wrong. It was so easy to be winning big! And I ran into this guy in the end zone and had to snap a shot of his fabulous couture hat! Bravo to the craftsmanship!

We decided to make a smart move by leaving in the third quarter with the hopes of still being able to get a table at a restaurant that wasn’t Beta Dogs. We got into the Sella’s with out much of a line, but I’ll be damned if we didn’t loose the game after all. Ah well. They sold Erik and J 64-ounce beers, so I had bigger things to worry about. Like my potential life-partner who was rapidly becoming an adult-sized toddler who badly needed Ritalin. And who felt it necessary to bite my arm. And draw on his own face with crayon…

But my calzone was good, so made things a little better.

Then for the sake of creativity, we went back to the Coug for a while (I know- weird!), before heading out and about on the greater campus/Greek row neighborhood. There was a girl wearing quite possibly the best T-shirt I’d ever seen: I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it very well on here, but it says, “Stay Golden.” I hope you can make out the graphic.

Finished up the night by taking another stroll around the Kappa Delta house, and heading to a “live-out” party down the street. It was somewhat fun, but reminded me that maybe I wouldn’t pay any amount of money to go back to college after all. Seeing all of the kids who so obviously haven’t figured out much of life yet made me feel…kind of happy. I’d forgotten what it feels like to not be comfortable in your own skin. I miss college, I miss those crazy, seemingly consequence-free days where the BIG issues where keeping your house off of social probation, getting a “good house” to do homecoming with, figuring out which coupons to use for pizza that night, avoiding MIP’s etc… The kicker is, at the time, one can never realize how superficial those “big deals” really are. I still don’t know very much about the big issues, but I’m figuring out more and more each day. If I could only get the years to slow down a bit…

But speaking of Big Deals, Laguna Beach is on, and I just heard a preview that LC and Jason are going to hook up??!!? I’ve gotta go, I can’t miss THIS!!

I promise I'll edit this for typos etc tomorrow when I can focus.

My day with Wy....

That's what I call her now. A lot of people know her as "Wynonna Judd" but to me, she's just Wy. Because now we're best friends forever. That's what getting an autograph and making small talk with someone makes you right?!?

But first- some housekeeping issues in response to some recent comments:

1) I think this was answered already, but "Jumping the Shark" mean- going past your peak, specifically in the entertainment industry. It's all down hill from that point on. In my last entry, I had a link on the phrase, click on it. It will take you to its definition in the urban dictionary. Now I will use Jump the Shark in a sentence: Growing Pains was a great show, but it really jumped the shark when Leonardo DiCaprio joined the cast.

2) Dude, I totally remember the Peanuts character glasses that you could collect from McDonalds (or was it Dairy Queen??) They ruled.

3) No, Al Gore didn't REALLY invent the internet. I was being a smart-ass. Look into "Al Gore" and "Information Super Highway". I'm all about mid '90's pop culture. Why aren't you?

Oh that's right, because you're too busy pooping.

Okay- and now... ON WITH THE GOOD STUFF...

I went to see Wynonna sing with the Seattle Symphony last night and it was actually my first time to Benaroya, or to a performance by the Seattle Symphony at all for that matter. SO- if they agreed to play with her as an outreach to the no-orchestra crowd, it certainly worked on me. I tried to take some pictures, but pictures weren't allowed (I learned this after taking a picture of Erin in our 3rd deck seats before the show started and getting scolded by an usher...oops).

The show started promptly at 7:30, when the conductor came out and struck up the band. He was whiley and conducted music not so much with a wand, but with his whole body. He reminded me of the guy in The Phantom Toll-Booth who conducts the sunrise. He made me want to be a conductor in my next life.

It was Wynonna's first time playing with an orchestra, and it was enough to make even a 20 year veteran stage performer nervous. But it was kind of nice to see her a little nervous, and a little unchoreographed. It was more spontaneous that way. There were a few instances when she turned to the conductor and said something to the effect of, "Okay, you can start now." Which reminded me that she is normal. She sang I'd say...oh, about 50% of her own songs, or The Judds songs, and the other half were old standards, jazz or rock classics. There was one gospel song at the end which really showcased her two back-up singers and gave them a chance to stretch their legs- or vocal chords as it were.

I'd have to say my favorite moments of the show were when she sang "Is It Over Yet" (which is really a very emotionally draining song when you see it performed live), and when she sang, "At Last." She did a great job with this song, but when it was almost over, she just stopped, turned around and said to the conductor, "Wait- wait... I'm sorry, can we start over? Its just not quite right. This is Seattle, this is big time. I can do better." And they started all over again. And MAN, I thought it was fine the first time, but she put every thing into round two and it made me all melty inside.

My least favorite part of the evening was when she really showed that she'd never sang with a symphony before by leaving the stage at the end of the night without acknowledging the musicians OR the conductor. Faux Pas, Wy. Give them a nod next time. They kicked ass and deserved some serious credit. But even pro's make rookie mistakes when trying new things I suppose.

She was a gracious hostess for the evening, but not to be confused with humble. She was very proud, and very aware of her presence, which is good. Modesty isn't always the best policy, and if you're a Judd, why bother with it? When shouts of "We love you Wynonna!!!" were heard from the crowd, her response was, "I know you do. That's why I'm here."

So needless to say, I was hooked on the flava' and by about 10AM today, I knew that there was no way I wasn't going to go see her sign books at the Costco downtown. So I excused myself from work for a couple of hours. I really should have asked her if she needed to open an IRA, then I would have felt a little less guilty about leaving work in the middle of the day. After waiting in line for about an hour and a half, (all the while making nice new friends with my line mates) I finally got to see her up close and personal. The book signing was very efficient and organized to the extent that we were all probably being herded like cattle, but I don't think anyone felt processed or rushed at all. In fact, I not only got to have a picture taken with her, but also had plenty of time for small talk while she signed my items. Here's the transcript:

Line organizer guy, after asking my name: This is Gina

Wy: Ginaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!! (in her low, velvety voice)

Me: Hi! (as she starts signing) Wow- your ring is beautiful!! (it was eye-catchingly fabulous- hadn't seen a celebrity wedding ring up close and personal before and WOW)

Wy: Well thanks! I figured I plan to wear it for the rest of my life, so I might as well have something that I really like.

Me: Yeah, That's a pretty good theory.

Wy: (Laughs politely) yeah, well, I didn't used to have all of this.

Me: Right. Well, I always say, Go Big or Go Home. (not being able to think of anything else witty)

Wy: (Pausing from her signing to look up at me) Go Big or Go Home? I've never heard that. I like it. I might have to use that.

Me: Well, I sure hope you do. I'd have to tell all my friends that you got it from me (now I'm blushing... she's continuing to sign, moves on to the DVD). Oh, that ones for my sister, she's going to love it.

Wy: Well, you tell your sister that we really missed having her here today.

Me: I will. And I've got to ask you... How much did it ROCK to play with Anne and Nancy Wilson?

Wy: (eyes widen) Oh, totally! Anne was supposed to be at the show last night, but she couldn't make it at the last minute.

Me: Whoa! That would have been awesome!

Wy: I probably would have pee'd my pants!

Me: Well thanks so much, and great show last night!

And that my friends, is how it all went down. How someone could be so calm cool and collected after signing and small-talking with 200+ fans, who all want deep down to tell you their life story and become your best friend (like me!!) is beyond me. If it were me, I'd probably have been crank-pot central by fan number 25. But she is a real pro. And not that I ever thought otherwise, but I'm a fan for life.

When DID Tom Cruise Jump the Shark?

I sure don't know, but I have a sneaking suspicion that is was not too long after this scene was shot.

Gosh, remember him back in the day? Back when the world didn't know how short he really was, or that he was a couch-jumping lunatic?

So I guess I'll answer my own question in saying, I don't know or care when Tom Cruise jumped the shark, but Maverick (Lt. Pete Mitchell) will have a special place in my heart forever.


And just to make you feel old, kids in college today were born after Top Gun was released. Yeah.

Hyperactive hunter/getherer instincts, or a true love of crap (bric-a-brac, knickknacks, knickknackery, and whatnot)??

Three words: Hard Rock Café.


What do those words remind you of? If you’re like me, (and for your sake, I hope you’re not) they remind you of super cool T-shirts that could be worn with pride while telling the world, “Yeah, I went to London, and I spent my time in an overpriced burger franchise that defines commercialism and all that is wrong with American culture. Sweet!”

So thought it would be fun to make a “Top 10 List Of Things I Am Ashamed To Admit I Collected Back In The Day”

But all I could thing of were Hard Rock café shot glasses, and Beanie Babies.


I also collected rocks, My Little Ponies, and pictures of baby animals, but I’m not ashamed nor am I embarrassed by that. Because rocks, and little animals (ponies or otherwise) are still cool. In my opinion at least.

Thought bubble: Come to think of it- is Hard Rock Café even in business anymore? If so, I wonder how they’re denim jacket sales are doing now that Planet Hollywood is gonzo??


In Summary…


Good: Ummmm...pretty....


Oooooo... I want to brush they're sheeny manes…

So nice!!! I want to hug the baby tiger! (before it turns in to a potentially man-eating carnivore)


Bad…

Boooooo.... hissssssss.



A hex on you little bear! You and and all of your bean-bag friends who ate up all of my time and money!!!


I can’t be the only one who collected stupid things can I? Friends, please tell me that I’m not alone. And if you know anyone who wants to buy about 50 Ty Beanie Babies (all in mint condition of course…) let me know. AND if you can use the words "knicknackery" and "bric-a-brac" and "whatnot" in the same sentence, then you get extra double letter, tripple words score points!!

THANK YOU AL GORE, FOR INVENTING THE INTERNET!

If I just came out and said, “You need to check out this terribly cheesy web site ASAP!” You might start to wonder how I ever came across it.

Someone at work today was saying that he had Barry Manilo’s “Mandy” stuck in his head. Which of course got it stuck in MY head. But I only knew the first few lines of the chorus, and when all you have is “Oh Mandy, you came and you… did…somethingorother…” it is MOST unsatisfying.

So I ran a Google search for “Mandy” and “Barry” and got this site. I was delighted to see that I’d found a site that didn’t just have the lyrics, but actually played the song as the site’s background music!

Vow! I love the pansies in the background! Lyrics, floral background, angelic photos of some sort of woodland-dwelling fairy? Bravo! So of course I had to check on the “Back” button… Where I found a whole GARDEN of tender love songs. All played in AM-radio-quality on via my internet browser!

So I hope you enjoy this site as much as I have. Some of the must-see/hear songs, in my opinion, are Lay Lady Lay, Hero, Leather and Lace, Do ‘Ya, In My Room, and The Rose. Please note that I chose these primarily based on the photo/color scheme that was used to visually support each song.

I have a feeling that I might be exploring more of what Lady Jaye has to offer throughout the weekend. Hummm…. But suddenly I just feel like breaking out the lavender essential oils, bathing in bees wax soaps, maybe burning some herbal candles, and curling up with a green tea, a wool blanket, and a self-help book…

(If anyone out there knows how I can pipe these songs over the web on MY site, please, please, PLEASE let me know! I'd love to share some love songs with all of you. It would be my own little way of saying, "Thanks for stopping by my site!")