Blogrolling Sucks!

Ya know - you get what you pay for. I paid nothing for that little piece of javascript called Blogrolling but I am paying for it now! The only thing that sucks worse is Blogger itself!

First of all, it isn't showing me all of my links which are updated. For example, I just got a notice that Fresh updated and imagine my surprise when I see I am days behind in my reading on her blog.

Then there is Annoyed. I get the little change on my right hand navigation, telling me that one of my favs has a new posting and NOTHING! I got my hopes up and blogrolling crushed them like a bride left at the alter. And when Annoyed did post? Nothing. I just clicked because I have learned not to trust my own eyes and behold! I get that freak, Karr, staring out at me!

I also miss my little arrows that my regular template gave - oh, and when I am on the companies network it drops Blogrolling altogether so any of my Irish readers (and there are a couple) are not able to see the links that Blogrolling handles - I don't think. They don't comment. Except to me. Face to face. Maybe that is better. I should count my blessings. Maybe you guys should too ;-)

I like my rock and roll with roller skates

Turn off Johnny Carson. Put away the Hotwheels and Etch-A-Sketch. Let's take a walk down memory lane. Sucky CD Sunday is ready to help.

Just give the kid a break

One of my stories was chosen for an anthology. I am very excited. One of the leaders of my Wednesday night workshop (not Master's related) asked if I can make some minor edits - which invariably includes cutting down where you think it cannot be possibly cut anymore- for inclusion in the anthology of new writers she and others were putting together.

I have never had any taste of the publishing of an entire book with a spine and everything! (I have only dealt with magazines) There is incredible the amount of work that goes into getting an anthology together. It is also amazing the amount of parties that are involved in it! I have one this weekend as an "end of the editing" celebration and we are already thinking about venues for the launch party around Christmas.

Two parties for 1900 words? Not bad. Before you even ask if I get paid for this story, please substitute the thought of cash money to the 2 parties and a couple of free copies of the book. That kind of sucks.

But it's a start.

Never ceases to amaze me

I think the little things in life are the most amazing. Forget space travel and winning the Superbowl, look around at your daily grind and you may find the most interesting things are right under your nose. I will give you a couple of examples to get you thinking.

Amazing little things (Pog's list, in no particular order):

1. I am amazed at how much smarter my dog it than me. Not only did he learn human, he learned it in English, German and the 0h-so-difficult Gaelic. I have no idea what he is talking about when he goes bizzurk every night around 9 pm.
2. I am amazed at how long store bought white bread stays unmoldy and soft. There must be enough chemicals to rival Dow.
3. I am amazed that MacDonalds taste the same everywhere - every store in every country on the planet.
4. I am amazed at just how long corn stays in a person's system.
5. I am amazed at how all the women I know, without exception, find it easier to go without sex for long periods of time than go without chocolate .
6. I am amazed at how the lightness of a household appliance (blender, vacuum cleaner, can opener) is inversely proportional to how long it will remain in working order. Obviously it is because they use cheaper, weaker materials in the light ones but if you look around your own house, everything that is still working probably is new or weighs a ton.
7. I am amazed how dry cleaning is one of the biggest lies of the 20th century.
8. I am amazed how hard it is to lose 5 lbs.
9. I am amazed how easy it is to gain 15 lbs.
10. I am amazed how my white, berber carpet is the only place in my entire house where, food has ever been spilt, the dog has vomitted, I have cut myself and bled. My tiled floors are immaculate.

Life, huh?

I'll take Movie Quotes for $500, Alex

I have been watching a lot of movies lately - pretty stupid ones at that. I think I hit a new low when I actually paid to see Nacho Libre. I guess spanish accents and mexicans are funny to some people, but not too me - at least not $8 bucks worth of funny. I was thinking though, that there will be a rash of quotes from Jack Black out of this character and I have noticed that people quote memorable lines from movies quite a bit. Especially men. Men have entire conversations in which they talk for considerable lengths of time where they don't say anything they have thought of themselves but deal out these one liners from movies, usually comedies and usually dumb comedies, obscure comedies or dumb and obscure comedies. Its good fun, usually results in a laugh and someone, ultimately says, "that's a classic". It got me thinking about "classic" movie lines. What makes a line and the delivery of that line a "classic"? How broad of an audiance must it appeal to and how long must it endure? There are certain lines of movies that have even defined actors:

"Say hello to my little friend" - Al Pacheno in Scarface
"You talkin' to me" - Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver
"You come to me on the day of my daughter's wedding" - Marlon Brando, The Godfather Part 1
"I love the smell of Napalm in the morning", Robert Duvall, Apocalyse Now

And these are pretty standard fare. I am sure you can think of lots more that they use on movie clip montages on the days leading up to the Oscars. We could almost say them in our sleep. I mean, I knew Robert Duvall and the napalm line, and I never even saw Apocalyse Now (and I never read Heart of Darkness either, get off my back!) But here, on this post, I want to dedicate some space to the lines that may not get any academy awards but are definitely b-side classic one liners from movies.

1. "Watch the hair" - John Travolta, Saturday Night Fever
2. "Here's to swimmin' with bow-legged women" - Robert Shaw, Jaws
3. " Isms", in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an "ism". He should believe in himself. John Lennon said "I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me." A good point. Afterall, he was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus and I'd still have to bum rides off people." - Matthew Broderick, Ferris Bueller's Day Off
4. "You look like a man-o'- lantern" - Seth Rogen, 40-Year-Old Virgin
5. "It could have been the soft mattress.Or, it could've been the midnight rape... or the nude, gay artshow that took place in my room...one of those probably added to the lack of sleep..." Vince Vaughn, The Wedding Crashers
6. "So it's sorta social...demented and sad, but social."Judd Nelson, The Breakfast Club
7. "Wouldn't it be great if life were like this?" Woody Allen, Annie Hall
8. "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor! Hell no!" John Belushi, Animal House
9. "We're going streaking through the quad!" Will Farrell, Old School

I am not a movie quoter but I like the conversations nonetheless. So, new classics? What are they? I am sure this is not an exhaustive list. I am ready for suggestions...and please, let's get some definition around this before Nacho Libre gets deemed "a Classic"!

The Puffy Shirt on SCDS

What does Jerry Seinfeld have in common with our next candidate for Sucky CD Sunday? Only his fashion sense. It is ready and waiting for you ...right...here.

Survival skills in the 21st Century

We really have it easy in the 21st century, don't we? The biggest obstacle to my day is not hunting for food or tending to crops to feed a family - my big concern is if my iPod battery is going to remain charged for my entire time while on the way into work where upon I may, *sigh*, have to wait on line for a cup of specialty coffee with my choice of a chocolate or cinnamon dusting.

But as I was perusing the wiki how to site, I realized that the modern era has its own set of survival skills that we all must pay close attention to in order to survive. As I surfed a little more, I was even more solidified in my growing conviction. Yes! There are skills, not unlike being able to build a fire from sticks or making shelter out of shrubbery, that we all must learn! I have included them on this post because I don't want any of you to go another day without them. You may thank me tomorrow.

Here is a little skill that even the most proficient of you gourmet chefs can benefit from.
How to make a grilled cheese sandwich with an iron . The trick it to put the iron on "Cotton/Linen". No steam...or starch...except the bread...ha ha! I kill myself!

Ok, so you can't cook and don't even want to try? How about wowing them in the boardroom!
How to spin a pencil around your thumb. This is one of Pog's skill sets and I can tell you, there has been many a captain of industry stopped mid-pie chart in awe and wonder.

Maybe, you get a promotion from the thumb/pencil spinning! I did! But you know what, it is a lot more work, longer hours, bigger responsibility and not so much more money. The stress gets to you - so you may need to read through this: How to call in sick when you really just need a day off.

Who doesn't know how to do this already? Maybe Pog just has a jaded picture of people and thinks they are really more deceptive than they really are. If they were all that honest, however, they wouldn't need the good advice from the wiki people about cheating a polygraph test.

Contract your anal sphincter muscle when a control question is asked. While also highly effective, this method may (or may not) be discovered with the use of pressure-sensitive seat pads that are now commonly used.

I have so much to learn!

Let's say, however, your tutorial on sticking it to the polygraph man doesn't go quite the way your loved one planned, then you better read up on how to deal with being in prison.

The trick is not to become someone's "punk" (girlfriend). Having not been in prison, I am not sure what does or does not slip one's mind but I am pretty sure that I would figure that one out on my own. But hey, when you get out of prison, or maybe even when you are in it, you can spend your time doing things like converting old ass TV sets into fish tanks, 'cause nothing sounds quite like "trailer trash" than a fish tank in a TV set.

Now, these next ones are really neat tricks too and I don't know which one is harder to learn:

How to know the different between love, infaturation and lust or How to slice a banana before it is peeled

Both are pretty neat tricks.

That Friday Feeling

Friday 12:43 am
Meet Breandon. Breandon has a problem. The server is down and it may be his job to fix it. People are calling him. They are cranky and being mean. He doesn't know why the machines aren't working for him. Poor, poor Breandon.

Pog's advice to Breandon is "screw them - [they] outsourced second line support to India. [They] are the ones who have the problem, not you!"
But Breandon is more responsible than Pog and besides, it is past 5:00 pm in Bombay. He can't get anyone on the phone. And people are calling ... they...just...keep...calling.

Pog suggests that Breandon apply for another job.





Friday 2:53 pm
Dublin calling! Anyone out there? Breandon has done everything he can from the continent of Europe but alas the problem is nothing he can fix. The whole OS is banjaxed. You got to put in a ticket and what are the chances of it getting picked up before Monday. Zero. Nil. Nulla. Niente. Nada. Zippo.

Breandon's phone is still ringing off the hook. It is on somebody's "good people to drive to murder/suicide" list. Pog reminds Breandon that he is lucky he doesn't wear a beeper. Patrick keeps annoying Breandon by continuing to snap these pictures documenting Breandon's Bad Day for their own future amusement

Friday 5:05 pm

Look! Breandon is happy again! Is the problem fixed??? No! It is after 5 0' Clock and Breandon just does not give a rat's arse anymore. Yahoo!

Friday: After 5:15 pm
Life is so good. They are giving out free burgers and everything. We took a vote and decided that Breandon should buy a couple of rounds of drinks, seeing as it was his escape from the office we were celebrating.

Happy Monday everyone! Remember, we only have 5 more days and loads of possibilities!

Spread your ear-pollution both far and wide...

If there needs to be more proof that some men improve with age (physically, not musically), it is provided over on Sucky CD Sunday, now available for the price of one click.

Back to school (there will be a quiz at the end)

The date on the calendar may indicate that summer is still in full swing but those of us who are parents or professional students out there - we know better. It is back to school time. This time of the year means different things to different people. I know some of us would rather take out their kidneys with a dull knife than face the prospect of attending an academic institution again and there are others, myself included, who really looked forward to school. As I have gotten older, I have appreciated the idea that you can sit for 2-3 hours and have some wisdom bestowed upon you. I really, really appreciated school (and by school I mean University) about 2 months into my first job after receiving my Master's and officially becoming a full time civilian. I was working in a medical software company that some of you may know very well. I was already bored with the job (I had the worst job at the company at that time, it was fully acknowledged) and the fall was setting in. I just felt like I should be getting back to something new - a new agenda, a new schedule, a change of scene! Instead, I was faced with the prospect of the same desk, the same routine every day. Thank God the company bought a building and we moved offices - the distraction was the only reason I lasted through the winter - that and there was really good shopping right around the corner. I didn't last too much longer after that though. That started a habit of me having to change jobs on a yearly basis. I came a consultant so I could change jobs/projects and still work for the same company - saved the hassle of having to go and interview every 11 months.

A friend of mine identified my problem. "You still think that life should provide you with a new set of challenges every year. You are still a student" and she was right! I was! I am! I have been fighting the urge by continuing the job changing habit, taking night courses but nothing has the power of the real thing. That walking into a lecture hall, sizing up a professor, type casting your fellow students ("he's going to be the one that likes to hear himself talk", "she is going to be the curve buster that tells everyone she didn't study and she failed.") I like grabbing coffee (or in Ireland, pints) with the class and professor afterwards and the whole social life you gain from simply showing up at class. I admit it, I am a geek and I miss school.

So Pog decided to go back and fulfill a dream of not only becoming a student again but actually going to school for what she loves and wanted to study in the first place. Her first love ... challenged only by family and Fergus and JDP when he is being nice ... Pog is going back for a MFA in Creative Writing. Now, I have studied Literature for my whole academic career but I never had the nerve to study creative writing specifically because I figured - no one can teach that to you, it is a talent you either have or you don't, and I still think that is true. I also think that the writers that I admire all worked in, like, meat packing plants and flower shops. They didn't need a formal education to get their voice on paper, again, its a talent thing. I still believe this but I have found that over the years, as each year takes me down a path that was started at that medical software company and has continued, for good and bad (no regrets!), it is harder and harder for me to reach back to that original dream. I needed something drastic! I needed to surround myself with people who were not asking me about technology, return on investment or "oh my God, the project is in the red, what are we going to do!". I don't care - maybe I will find the appreciation that I need to continue with my present job if I am satifying the creative side on an intense and daily basis.

Also (and thank you all for indulging me with my justification of this choice which is what I am doing here if you haven't read in between the lines by now) the publishing world right now, sucks, frankly. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Flannery O'Connor - so many young writers were nutured by editors of literary magazines until they were the writers that they are. These magazines and these editors do not exist anymore. There is very little space for a writer of short fiction or poetry in the world now (If they want to see their words in print and not on a screen, which I do!) You have to be almost perfect out the door and even then there is a lot of luck involved. Also exists is a chicken and an egg scenario. You can't get published if you haven't been published. Riddle me that, won't you? You can't get published anywhere big if you don't have an agent, oh, and did I mention that you can't get an agent unless you've been published - and most agents don't want to talk to you if you don't have a novel under your belt. A portfolio of short fiction? Call us when you write the novel. Only novels sell, you see. I think that the academic door is one of the only doors left (slightly) opened.

That was quite a detour around the point of this post which is to tell you that I got my letter about the course, when it starts (I will be in the States) where it will meet, oh and by the way ... read the Rise of the Novel by someone or other. I have homework! I forgot about that part. I hate homework, primarly because Pog is stubborn and doesn't do what she doesn't like to do very easily, without someone prodding her with a hot poker. I was actually NOT a good student, despite my inherent love of school because I simply refused to do things I had no interest in doing. It wasn't so much of an issue in college where I got to the point where I just to english and history classes with the occassional 'science for airhead' classes like astronomy just to fulfill graduation requirements but in high school, I just didn't go to math. Who was it that was riffing on calculus, Dim? That was brilliant ... I am quoting him here (I am such a fan!)...

You see, NONE of us got Calculus. None. I avoided taking the class, to no avail, because I knew I would bomb it. It's not math. It's not algebra. It's not geometry. It's not trig. I got all that shit. But Calculus was a different beast all-together; we all tanked it. - DIM

I didn't get ANY of it, not calc, not trig, not geometry, not even algebra. I hated it all with a viceral hate I save for people who are cruel to animals. I just refused to open my mind to it. One geometry teacher I had, an older guy who had seen it all, kept me after one day to go over a test on proving that one line is parallel to another line or whatever that I flunked and said "you just make this stuff up". Yes. I am proud of that. I just make it up. So as you see, the fiction just needed to find a way out wherever I was. If it was on a geometry exam, so be it. Someday I will post about how I got my first job in technology after the medical software company by essentially reading the index of a Visual Basic book the night before the interview and bullshitting my way through the interview ... ok, well, there was the post.

Sorry, I am off on another tangent - will this post ever end, you say? I say, maybe, but I am so, so, so hungover right now (perhaps still a little drunk,even?) that I am having a hard time keeping on topic... So I have homework. To read this book. I don't want to read this book. And now I have to show up for classes two days a week. What if I want to do something else on those two days? It kinda eats into my time to go down to the cottage. And now people will be demanding things of me. I just got to a point in my life where I can just about handle what is being asked for from me, now I am going to upset this balance. Holy cow! What have I done!?! Did I really like school that much that I want to go back? Am I really up for a return to things that I liked but, now, come to think of it, things that I didn't? What if the professor is a pompeous ass or worse, what if I don't like his writing and he is the one judging mine? That is a nightmare situation.

The moral of the story is one of the following (choose one):

a) Return to what you love, even if you have left it for a long time
b) The olden days were better for everything, including literary publications
c) Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it
d) Don't blog whilst ridiculously dehydrated and slightly queezy
e) All of the above

Life is Sweet

I have no stomach for anything heavy or complicated today. I need some unsubstantial, purely pleasurable fare for today's post. I was thinking about it when a co-worker of mine dropped the subject right into my lap - a list, of course, because only a list can be as pithy as I need it to be. And a list about junk food? Double Whammy! Bring it on.

The way this started was the my co-worker, Finn, asked me to bring back some hostess snack cakes when I came back from the States (I am coming back there in September). She promptly went to the Hostess web site (the URL by the way is twinkie.com) and placed her order. I alerted Finn to the fact that there was a whole other world which awaited her at Drake's Cakes which according to the site is a Northeastern phenomenon. No wonder no one outside of my area has heard of them.

So, I put myself into my 7 year old mind and decided to give myself a party. This is what I bring to the table - in no particular order.

• Twinkies - they are here because they are the icon of all junk food. They are the Hope Diamond in the Crown Jewels of empty calories. They are the mac daddy of all things. From the Hostess site:

Whether we're carrying a supply in the glove compartment for a quick on-the-road snack, freezing them, deep frying them, or eating them right out of the package, millions of Twinkie lovers would agree with creator Jimmy Dewar's statement that “Twinkies was the best darn-tootin' idea I ever had.”

Deep frying them? Hold the phone! This opens up a brand new dimension! I am going to try this! You're darn tootin'.

Circus Peanuts - what actually are these things? They aren't peanuts, they aren't marshmallows, I've never seen a peanut close to being that orange color. I believe they are some kind of martian food or a rare fungus

• McDonalds - they have to be on here but it isn't as good without Mayor McCheese and the rest of his political cabinet. I am not sure how the Hamburglar or those little troll things made the food taste better but they did and I miss them. Has anyone else noticed the link between Grimace and Barney? (I was going to include a Separated at Birth picture of the two of them but my blogger doesn't want to do it) I think Grimace is Barney's mentally retarded cousin.

• Ding Dongs - also known as edible hockey pucks. They are good when you put them in the fridge and let the chocolate crack.

• Peeps - cause nothing says 7 year old heaven like pure sugar over marshmallows. Look on the site - you can chat about Peeps. The message board is full of tips and helpful hints by totally real site visitors like "pinkpeeplover16" and "iluvpeeps". Subtle. They were good enough to tell us not to eat peeps all the time because they are bad for you.

• Charleston Chews. Why? They are not very good. Because they are big and when I was 7, if my $.40 could by me a 6 inch lousy candy bar over a 4 inch good one, I went with quantity. Kids are greedy bastards.

• Gummis

Homer: Ooh, gummi bears! Gummi calves' heads...gummi jaw breakers!(sees a gummi figure on a red pillow in a glass case, turning)

Homer:(lustily) Ohh...(walks up) What's that?

Man:(German accent) That is the rarest gummi of them all, the gummi Venus de Milo, carved by gummi artisans who were exclusively in the medium of gummi.

Marge: Will you two stop saying "gummi" so much?

Germans love their Gummis, man. It is the only thing I can see eye to eye on with my German housemate. So the fact that the guy on this Simpson's episode is one of those details that make the show watchable over and over again. I love the fact that they make Gummi body parts, Gummi eye balls, Gummi rats ... its great. These people know kids. I only eat the bears. Anything else makes me sick.

Ok, my 7 year old dinner party would not be complete without, ta da - Big League Chew. Shred up 26 sticks of gum and stick 'em in a bag. Tell kids to pretend its tobacco and we've got ourselves a winner. I ate so much of this stuff my jaw would actually ache. My sister used to eat bubblegum that came out of a tube like toothpaste. I was 12 by then and thought it was disgusting. I had moved on.

Alright, I am done but I had a good time writing this post (besides me image frustration). What did I miss?

I think I'm gonna hurl

We are coming up to one of the most important events on the Irish calendar. The All Ireland Gaelic Games Athletic (GAA) league Championship. One of the aspects of Irish culture which I have easily taken too is the adoption of the native sports. Ireland not only has its own language, it has its own national sports. These sports predate anything that we are used to seeing, and it predates them by a lot. This is off the official Gaelic Games web site.

Hurling is a game similar to hockey, in that it is played with a small ball and a curved wooden stick. It is Europe's oldest field game. When the Celts came to Ireland as the last ice age was receding, they brought with them a unique culture, their own language, music, script and unique pastimes. One of these pastimes was a game now called hurling. It features in Irish folklore to illustrate the deeds of heroic mystical figures and it is chronicled as a distinct Irish pastime for at least 2,000 years.

We are talking just post ice age - and they aren't kidding about the mythology stuff. The big Irish hero - the Achilles of Ireland, a guy named Cuchalainn, was a great hurler.

Hurling (Iománaíocht in the Gaelic) is the fastest field sport in the world. It is second in speed only to ice hockey which, of course, is faster because of said ice! Go figure. When you watch hurling, you can't see the sliotar (slither) because it moves so fast. Most men that play this game do not wear helmets due to a grandfather law making helmet wearing optional. You usually see them coming off the field looking like confederate soldier extras from Gone with the Wind, complete with the bloodied head wrap.

Gaelic football is a cross between soccer and rugby yet pre-dates both these sports. It is the genesis of Australian rules football and is a great game in and of itself with no stupid rules like you can't use your hands! Certain counties are considered "football" or "hurling" counties - usually the ones with less rock are hurling because there were less stones for the sliotar to bounce off of but some counties, like my adopted Cork, are good in both.

The history of the game post-mythology is awe-inspiring as well. Croke park in Dublin is an 80,000 person stadium built entirely of donated money. All players who play in the league are not professional and do not get endorsement money. They all have day jobs and do it for the love of the game! Back in 1920's and the days of Michael Collins, the English shot and killed football players when they stormed Croke park during an all Ireland final in Croke park. Each section of the stadium is named after the men who were shot. The day from then on was called Bloody Sunday. (This Bloody Sunday is not to be confused with the Bloody Sunday in which peaceful human rights demonstrators were shot by the British army in Derry in 1972) It was not until this year that any other game other than an Irish game was allowed to be played in Croke park - and the decision was hugely contested. There also is a rule that a member of the British Army, past or present, can not gain entrance into the park.

During the late summer and up until the all Ireland, we really see that this island is still a collection of clans, loosely connected by the fact that no one else is remotely like these people. Sure, they are technically "Irish" but they are province and county first. Think Yankees versus Red Sox but multiply it by the fact that these families have been in these places for thousands of years - since they were wearing animal skins and wondering at the power of fire!

I like my sports with a healthy dose of history.

"Up Cork, Up the Rebels!" Erin Go Bragh!

You Gotta Have Faith

It's Sunday kids and that means it is time for you weekly walk of shame into your CD collection! This time, a very special guest will be bringing you into your not-so-safe-place. Have fun, click over and I will see you on the other side.

When in doubt, just wear black

Ok, riddle me this. How am I supposed to deal with this most humiliating of experiences such as I faced this afternoon?

Scene: A busy restaurant catering only to a lunch crowd. People are waiting for their orders at the counter, some are sitting. Pog, our protaganist, is waiting in a line for her tuna special. Ahead of her is a man, mid-30's, in a "Gillian"-style hat. He is accompanied by a woman who seems to be in her early 60's (his mother?).

Man: Hello.
Pog: (a little startled at the abruptness of the start of the conversation) Hello. How are you?
Man: Fine. How are you?
Pog: I am doing ok.

At this point, Pog notices the older women looking over nervously at the young man. Pog begins to sense there is more here than meets the eye.

Man: That is a nice shirt. What color is that shirt? Pink?

Pog has come to the realization that this man is developmentally challenged. He is now staring full on at her chest in a form fitting T-Shirt.

Pog: Yes, it is pink with some shiny things on it.

This particular T-Shirt has decorative lettering on it, mostly written backwards or upside down. The man is now trying to read her right breast.

Man: (moving his nose closer to her chest leaving only about 7 inches between the tip of his nose and her nipple) What does that say?

Pog: (holding her shirt away from her body) I don't know. I never tried to read it. I think it is just for show.

Man: I can see the letter N and I see the letter W.

Pog: I think that word is NEW that you are looking at but I don't think the people that made the shirt expected you to really read it. It is just a design.

Man: There is an R and an L.

Pog: There sure is. There are a lot of letters on the shirt.

Man's Mother (or whoever the heck she was): Ok, Jimmy. It's time to go. Say good bye.

Man: Good bye. Have a nice time.

Pog: Good bye Jimmy.

Well, it was about time. I was frantically trying to think up something to distract this man-child from making my cleavage the subject of a dissertation. My jaw still hurts from the smile that I pasted on my face so that no one would think I was uncomfortable in the situation.

This is the kind of stuff that happens to me all of the time. You have an uncomfortable situation that needs someone to absorb the discomfort while everyone else avoids eye contact? Call Pog! You need someone to feel bad about the person everyone else is steering clear of? Pog is your girl!

If you need me, I'll be picking out all of the embroidered logos out of the ass pockets of my jeans, lest I meet Jimmy again.

Variations on the same theme

I watched Match Point last night. For those who are unaware, it is a Woody Allen movie that came out recently and is now out in DVD. I liked it but I have comments, of course, hence the post.

(Oh and by the way, where the hell is Road, the film student, when I need her. I wrote this post with her in mind!!!)

First and foremost, this movie is just Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanours(1989). The plot is the same, the theme is the same and it is Mr. Allen’s obsessive pondering of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment (a book that is featured in Match Point). Of course I liked Match Point because I loved Crimes and Misdemeanours. Why I loved Crimes and Misdemeanours and only liked Match Point hinges on several factors (in no particular order):

• Match Point is set in London. Crimes and Misdemeanours is set in New York. New York is way better than London.

• I like my Woody Allen films with Woody Allen in them. After his fall from Grace because of his perverted penchant for his adopted children, many can’t stand to look at him. I am not one of these people. Annie Hall remains to this day one of my favourite movies of all time and one that I must show to every new boyfriend to gauge his appreciation of it. Match Point has no Woody.

• The lead character in Match Point is supposed to be a poor Irish guy. He sounds English to me. How is this guy Irish? Not even a trace unless you count the fact that he can be a moody bastard.

• Crimes and Misdemeanours handled large philosophical issues that are asked in Crime and Punishment. There were so many layers, so much symbolism. Match Point was smaller. There wasn’t as much meat on it.

• Crimes and Misdemeanours has that quirky, stilted yet somehow very realistic, bordering on bad acting that is a staple of a Woody Allen movie. I love that! Match Point was slicker. It was the first movie of Allen’s I have seen where he has actually not made his presence known which I concur may be a strong point for some and probably rightly so because it was in London and not NY so it had to be very different, blah blah blah but for me – see point #2.

• Jazz v. Opera. The soundtrack (beautifully done by the way) served the same purpose in Match Point that is does in other Allen films. For me, it sets and solidifies the sense of “place”. This is another matter of taste. Opera makes sense in London as the Jazz of Porter and Gershwin can only be NYC. I like Porter and Gershwin more than opera just as I like NYC more than I like London. (see point #1)

My final word – fans of Woody Allen or not – rent Match Point. It’s good. But if you like the subject matter, the theme and the mental exercise that Match Point tempts you with, see Crimes and Misdemeanours.

Better yet – read Crime and Punishment. It is one of the best books ever written, ever. Don’t start it until the weather gets cold as all Russian novels should be read in the cold.

(I was going to link to the crib note of Crime and Punishment, but I am not. Read the book!)

10 little dislikes and counting...

As many of you know, Pog can be a cranky gal. The crankiness hits at funny times. I can't chalk it up to PMS or disagreements with friends or just general workplace annoyance - all of which I have read about on your blogs and I thought - fair enough - they have just reason to be cranky. I don't know what makes this so and when I sit back and think about it, I have absolutely no reason to be cranky and every reason to be joyous - and yet, I am still as ornary as a ram whose best friend is making eyes at his missus. Let me put my day in context for you ... I woke up to some of the most beautiful rural scenary in the world. No rushing to get to work, I dialed into the network. No dealing with work colleagues - or anyone for that matter. You want isolation? You got it here. I have nothing to blame for emulating Annoyed at this point but myself.

Since I have been using my posts as my own personal theraputic sessions, and I have felt mildly better getting these thoughts out of my head and into air space, this post will be no exception however, it will be like a not-nice version of Hotwire's list. So, without further delay, this is the first of many anticipated lists of what Pog does not like!!! (I hear many of you saying "who the hell cares?" hardly care myself is the answer but if I don't get it out, I will continue to be cranky)

In no particular order, and certainly not a comprehensive list:

1. Lycra bicycle shorts. This applies especially when they are worn by fat germans who cycle around the beauty spots of Ireland in helmets, with bags full of packed lunches, red-faced and miserable as they try to get up some of the hills, totally oblivious to the beauty for which they came because they treat their vacations like its the f***ing tour de france.
2. Experimental theater. A black box, a spot light and a naked crying man. I'll pass. I don't need someone emoting 2 inches away from me.
   
3. Stewardesses (aka Sky Waitresses). Too many bad experiences, not enough good ones. You do the math.
4. Probiotic yogurt drinks. What the hell are these? When did they figure out that drinking something that tastes like sour cheese run-off is good for you? Apparently, continental Europeans who are apt to think that yogurt is a cure for all things that ail you. I think Yoplait gets more medical research funding by the EU than the national health care services. Ridiculous.
5. "X" or Zero anything. Why is everything renamed with an X - and spelled that way? Xtreme, etc. you know what I mean. And why has the word "diet" been taken out of our vocabulary and replaced by "zero" - zero calories, zero carbs, I get it, you didn't change the stuff and you are not fooling me into thinking it tastes any better.
6. Housecleaning. Enough said.
   
7. Rock Stars/Hollywood Celebrities as political activists. Bono - sing, don't talk. I don't even care if I agree with them or not, it isn't their job and I am just not interested in hearing their opinion on issues which they have no more authority on than I do. Just because they have an opinion and a microphone doesn't mean the two go together. Maybe they should just blog ;-)
   
8. Newspaper print that makes your hands dirty. Didn't NASA invent something that could stop this from happening? I usually touch my face before I realise I am covered in ink and I look like I just swept some chimneys. Pain in the ass. Then I think I should carry around Purell and use it for those cases but then I will be one of those people who carry Purell ...
9. People who carry Purell (and other paranoid, overly hygenic, anal retentive people). You are responsible for the increase in asthema and the introduction of most nut allergies. Don't know what I am talking about? check this out.
10. Food with more air miles than me. I don't want an apple from Chile. They grow apples in Ireland ... and if I can't get Irish apples, I'll buy a french one. I don't want Brazil to cut down the rainforest to graze cattles, get out of the mad cow disease checks, and import beef to Europe when my neighbors are being paid not to have cattle on their land this year. I don't want vacuum packed carrots from Australia when the kids down the street are pulling them out of the ground. Is this madness to anyone else? What kind of fuel, cost, chemicals are they introducing to our food stuffs because some minister somewhere signed a piece of paper?

Whew! I have more but I am feeling better now and 10 is a good place to stop. Sorry about the cantankerous nature of my posts lately. Thanks for listening!