Pretty Puzzle

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Dish by Jeannette Walls

                                                                                                                                                                                    Because I loved The Glass Castle, Half Broke Horses and even The Silver Star by Jeannette Walls, I decided to order her first book, "Dish: The Inside Story on the World of Gossip".  I didn't know anything about the book beyond the author, and due to my new-found addiction to Advil PM, it took me an embarrassingly long time to read it.  But I really did enjoy it very much!This book digs into the subject of gossip, tabloids, and legitimate journalism and the crossing of lines within their worlds.  This book was well-researched and well-written.  I was intrigued and interested throughout the many many weeks it took me to read it!  While I thoroughly enjoy this author's sense of humor and ability to take me away and to find the humor and beauty in the most tragic of situations, I also thoroughly enjoyed this piece of non-fiction.  I have always been torn with my own feelings about celebrities and gossip.  I am annoyed and intrigued simultaneously.  With this book, I was able to feed that tabloid-hungry side of myself while also feeding the side of me that needs to learn and investigate. 

Pizza!

It's In The Trees

THREE!!

It's the third anniversary of Puzzle's Homecoming!  Three years ago we brought home a little scaredy dog who spent most of her time in hiding.  Today she is the boss of our whole family .... and we wouldn't have it any other way!  So happy she found her forever home with us!!
My beautiful happy girl!!

My Beautiful Babies

Foxy!

Sydney in Summer

Maybe We'll Have You Back by Fred Stoller

Sometimes I worry about myself.  I worry too much, for one thing.  I am also plagued with more anxieties and quirks than I can count on all my fingers and toes.  It's not like I don't want to be normal.  I most certainly do.  I never asked the good Lord to make me so weird.  My conversations with LBJ have more to do with me asking Him to please make Santa listen to me than me asking Him to make me a little left of center.
And then I read books like this and I think I may actually be halfway normal, after all!
I think Fred Stoller is funny.  Without even planning it, I believe I have seen every bit of his twenty years' experience on television.  I no longer believe he is acting, however.  I think he is just showing up and saying the appropriate lines.  They just sound funny because he is such a strange person.
"Maybe We'll Have You Back" is a series of essays written by Fred Stoller about his life as a perennial guest star.  I am actually impressed by his career, however the stories were a bit matter-of-fact for my taste.  I think I would have enjoyed them more if Fred had actually read them to me.  I liked reading about his experiences with auditioning, the stars he worked with, and the sets of the various shows.  I liked hearing about his anxieties and quirks, as well.  I just wish the book had been a tad more funny.  I mean, I'm a person who can make herself laugh out loud while commuting alone on a crowded train, so I don't honestly think my expectations are out of line.
It's okay, though.  I still like Fred.

Five Finger Death Hug

I had the opportunity to see Rob Zombie last night, for free, so I seized it!  I love Rob Zombie and he put on a great show!  However, the real rush came from heavy metal rockers Five Finger Death Punch. 
Front man, Ivan Moody, asked the audience to raise their hands if they are currently serving or have ever served in the armed forces.  I raised my hand. 
"Keep 'em up!", he said!
Then he encouraged the rest of the audience to shake those raised hands.  A line of young metal heads lined up ... to hug me!!  They all wrapped their tattooed little arms around me and thanked me for my service!
I cannot explain how moved I was!  Tears filled my eyes and an incredible warmth filled my heart.
So, thank you Ivan!  And thank you to all who have served this great country ~ you are deeply appreciated!

The Silver Star

Jeannette Walls quickly won a place in my heart with The Glass Castle and secured it with Half Broke Horses.  When I unexpectedly saw her latest book while shopping for something else, I grabbed it for a trip I was taking.  I didn't read the book jacket, in fact, I took it off when I threw the book in my travel bag and never looked at it again.
The Silver Star is fiction, but it begins much like the previous books, a biography and autobiography.  The author has a delightful way of taking me back.  Sometimes she takes me back to a place I don't believe I would ever want to revisit, but she does it with humor and tenderness.  She makes me feel like I have a story of my own.
While this book isn't brilliant, in my opinion, I loved it for it various reasons.  Sometimes when you are going back in time and connecting with a fictional version of yourself it may just be a simple little story that you need.  I think a 12-year-old me would have adored this book.  I like that a much older me can appreciate that.
This story is written through the eyes of little Bean who is twelve years old and wants nothing more than to enjoy normalcy in her very abnormal world.  She wants happiness for herself and the people around her.  She wants justice and correctness. 
If the story lines are thin .... so what?  For a few hours on a couple of planes, I was 12 again.  Everyday was a barefoot adventure.  For a few hours, I was able to chuckle out loud, weep openly, skin my knees a little bit, and remember with a touch of fondness a time I thought I didn't want to remember.

Kissing the Beehive by Jonathan Carroll

I needed a book to read.  Strangely, I noticed an old paperback under the radiator in my upstairs bathroom.  There's no real need to get into how I happened to be looking under the radiator in my upstairs bathroom.  I was just happy to find a book.
It was an oldie (1998) in tattered condition, but it was new to me!
While I wouldn't say this book is particularly well-written, and the character sketches leave something to be desired, and I found the many typos irritating considering the main character was a best selling author, overall it was not a bad story.
A successful novelist experiencing writer's block decides to stop by his childhood hometown and is flooded with memories that inspire his next novel.
It is murder, intrigue, passion.  I mean, coupled with some Advil PM, it was a nice story to help me get to sleep each night for the last 2 or 3 weeks.

The Big Winner

Once upon a time I worked at a radio station.  One of my many tasks was to hand out prizes to the winners from our listening audience.  One day, an on-the-mature-side gentleman entered the building to claim his prize.
My friend, (we'll call him) Bob, walked by my desk.  Bob is gay, which is relevant to the story.
As Bob passed, the "winner" said, "He looks like a funny guy."  Immediately on the defense, I said, "Oh yeah!  He has a great sense of humor!"  Winner said, in a most offensively effeminate voice, "That's not what I meant."
I gave him my best Lassie quizzical tilt of the head.
"What about you?" he asked.  "You look like an outdoorsy kind of girl."
I'm sure I had no idea what that meant.  It probably wasn't a compliment.  But I stuck to my I'm-just-a-dumb-receptionist routine and said, "Well, I like archery."
What?
Sometimes I think the Weisenheimers in the back of my head just throw the new guy out front and make him spit something so ridiculous out of my mouth even I have no choice but to chuckle at it.  Archery?  I know absolutely nothing about archery!  Why did I say that?  My mind and my mouth are not jumping out of the plane in tandem, that's for sure!
Winner said, "Oh, Merlin or Oxford?"
Huh?
"Well, it's not like I won a gold medal or anything .... I just said I like it."  That was my brilliant retort!
Sure as God makes little green apples, Winner opened his wallet and pulled out a laminated calling card of sorts to prove that he did, in fact, win a gold medal in the 1972 (or some damn year) Olympics in the great outdoorsy sport of archery.
Well of course he did!
Touche', good man, you are correct!  Bob is funny.  I am rather outdoorsy, and you won an Olympic gold medal in archery AND a Spice Girls cd.  Please enjoy the rest of your day.

Blurred Lines

The Voices in My Head have been singing Robin Thicke's Blurred Lines for approximately 5 days in a row.  The problem is, The Voices really only know Pharrell's part.  The rest they make up as they go.  So it comes out something like this:
          The dogs are jumping - Hey Hey Hey
          You wanna eat breakfast? - Hey Hey Hey
           Should I iron blue jeans? - Hey Hey Hey
           My hair is funky - Hey Hey Hey
           That's cuz it's raining - Hey Hey Hey
And that goes on and on and on chronicling every thought and move I make.  When they run out of things to say, they just say, "Blurred Lines!"  But sometimes, they even forget the Blurred Lines part and they accidentally sing, "BATMAN!"

Sweet Tooth: A Novel

I have absolutely no problem walking away from a bad movie.  I feel no remorse or sense of loyalty for lousy films.  Books, however, I cannot seem to toss aside no matter how disengaged I am with them.  Ian McEwan's Sweet Tooth, the story of espionage and intrigue set during the Cold War,  was the perfect example of this.  I could not get into this story at all, but I stuck with it for weeks simply to avoid having to call myself a quitter. I was not intrigued, in fact, I found most of it quite boring, to be honest.  There were a couple of short stories within the story that gave me some pleasure, but overall, I found the book rather trite and a dull. 

What Happened?!

I'm sure I do not know what happened to every single post between the loss of my sweet Wednesday and now?  Where did they go?!?!

Happy Anniversary iTunes

I'm watching a Sunday morning news program on tv.  Today is, apparently, the ten year anniversary of iTunes.  Well, happy anniversary!  The reporters are interviewing young adults on the street to prove how iTunes has changed the world as we know it.  Some of the "kids" being interviewed acted as if they barely knew what a CD was, and an LP?!  "What's an LP?!"
Seriously?
Now, the gramophone was clearly way before my time, but I have always known what it was!  And we always had a television in our home, but I knew about a time when the average family gathered around a radio instead.
I don't understand how people don't know their recent history.  How did I know about things that happened "before my time"? 
I spent a lot of time with my grandparents when I was little.  They talked to me.  I listened.
Don't kids listen to adults anymore?  Don't adults take the time to talk to kids anymore? 
I know. I know .... the world is different now (I'm not that old, by the way) ....

Sunday Fun Day!

                                           My beautiful border collies, Puzzle and Prozac!!

Wednesday

If Every Day Were Wednesday

Wednesday came to us in a time of sadness. My first dog (not one of my childhood dogs, but my first dog), Zeile, had recently passed away and my best girl, Borderline, and I were devastated. I don't know which of us was worse, but we were not helping each other in our grief, that's for sure. Zeile was born on October 20th, also my grandmother's birthday. He was born the year my grandmother passed away and he brought a great deal of pleasure and happiness to my life. When he was about five years old, we brought home a little abandoned puppy (Borderline) for him and he helped raise and care for her. She adored him as much as I did and we were both an absolute mess when he passed away. Enter Wednesday. Wednesday was an “oops” at a farm that raised pure bred border collies. Clearly, she had more than border collie blood running through her stream! She was as funny and silly as she looked and our sad days were over as soon as she entered our home. Wednesday had so many little quirks and a very strong personality. She liked to play tricks! She teased the other dogs and even played tricks on me. Good ones, too! She was smart! And Wednesday was a spot thief. No matter who you are or where you were sitting, if you got up for any reason, you would return to find Wednesday in your spot. She was our pack leader. She started the games and ended them when it was time. She set the tone in our home. She wasn't much of a snuggler (she didn't like how much I wiggle around) but she was extremely affectionate. The last few days we spent together, she kept her head in my lap, her paw on my arm. She wanted us near her. She was brave and sweet to the very end, and she left us better people (and dogs) for having shared our lives with her. So, she silently and peacefully left us after one last day spent holding her ... October 20th. A day that has always been special for me anyway, will now forever be the last day of Wednesday, as well.

Never Forget

Possessed

Last night I fell asleep on the couch for about twenty minutes. Just long enough to have a nightmare! I dreamed I was possessed by an evil spirit who was making me attack myself and others. I remember standing by a refrigerator with my hands around the neck of a small child who was getting a drink. The demon was trying to get me to choke the child, but I refused so the demon began making me attack and kill myself! I was screaming, "By the strength of Little Baby Jesus and Brody and all things good and beautiful, I command you to leave me!!" And the demon was tearing my body apart to get out of me. It was violent, graphic and painful! I woke up to the sound of myself choking. Horrible.

Dear Old Golden Rule Days

I have been loving all the 1st Day of School pictures on Facebook. All the adorable children spit-shined and crisply ironed sporting new backpacks and perfect hairdos. I wish, however, I would have had my camera with me yesterday when I drove home from a shopping spree around 3:00pm. All of my cute neighborhood kids came tumbling off the school bus looking frazzled and disheveled like they just had a rough day at the office. Sleeves pushed up, shirttails pulled out of wrinkled uniform pants and skirts. What I can imagine were fresh bows in the little girls' hair this morning were sagging afterthoughts this afternoon. They looked hot and tired and ... happy! If I had had my camera, one shot would have been perfect for Wordless Wednesday, but for today words will have to do! Good ol' Back-to-School Days!!

Space Shuttle Discovery

Happy Adoption Day!!

puz•zleˈpʌz əl(n.; v.)-zled, -zling. (n.)a toy, problem, or other contrivance designed to amuse by presenting difficulties to be solved by ingenuity or patient effort.

Two years ago today, a little ball of fur found her forever home with us! She had a rough start in life, to be sure. She was abandoned (probably for being the "runt"), was lost in the woods for several weeks all by herself, was rescued - bathed, fed, given shots, etc - and made ready for us!! This little precious angel was afraid of her own shadow and spent a lot of time hiding from us. She was scared and shy. She didn't even have a name for three days because we couldn't get to know her and understand her. She was a Puzzle! Two years later, she is a happy, healthy, bouncy delight! She adores her big sister, Wednesday, and she even got a puppy of her own, Prozac! She's still shy and still tiny, but she's perfect for us! Happy Anniversary, Puzzle!

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

How long does one allow oneself to be miserable before one does something about it? This actually has nothing to do with Gone Girl, I was just curious. (By the way, I can't say “Gone Girl” without breaking into a raucous version of Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel.) It has more to do with me, because that's the reason I read Gone Girl (hey pretty baby with the high heels on). I have been unhappy with my job for a long time, it seems, and have missed myself a bit. I decided it was time to take some action! One of the things I have been missing is reading so I ordered a stack of books … yes, a stack … and I allowed myself the time to read. I started with Gone Girl (you knock me offa my feet). This book promised more twists than a Chubby Checker concert, and on that promise, it delivered. This falling apart story of the perfect couple began slow and steady and more than a tad calculated. Told in the He Said/She Said style of 1st person story-telling by Nick and diary entries by the Girl, Amy, the story left me constantly wondering whom I liked, whom I trusted, whom I believed. And I liked that. I loved that. But, sadly, the style changed. The middle section of the book picked up a lot of momentum like a lit fuse burning quickly toward the dynamite. The dramatic increase in the pace left me feeling like the story were less contemplated. And this is actually where Gone Girl (just kiss me baby and tell me twice) lost me. I found Amy rather trite, actually, and boring. And, I do not want to ruin anything for anyone, because in all honesty, I couldn't put the book down, but I found the whole thing extremely anti-climactic. The dynamite at the end must have been soaked in the Missouri River because there was no explosion. I must say, however, it felt so good to read an entire book in a timely manner just because that is exactly what I wanted to do! I am excited to move to the next book in my stack and say goodbye to Gone Girl (my lonely days are gone). Hee hee hee (that's going to take a little Michael Jackson imagination on your part)!

The Stepford Wives

My thoughts seem a bit scrambled this morning. I have a lot on my mind. A lot to think about. I like to escape my own brain at night before I go to sleep, so I will trade in a book for old episodes of Mary Tyler Moore and Bob Newhart. Sometimes I like the subtlety of older films and television. I like the innuendoes. I like picking up on the hints. I feel like I'm “in” on some private joke when I understand what they are not saying. They seem to give me the credit I deserve for being so damn smart! I watched The Stepford Wives on my computer last night. I mean, the good version from 1975, not that campy piece of nonsense that came out in 2004. I think I was nine years old when the film was released, so probably 12 by the time I saw it. How did we see movies back then … before the VCR? How long did it take for a box office hit to find its way to the television? I was in 4th grade when my dad came home one day and told us about this crazy new invention “they” had. It would seem you could record something on one channel while you actually watched another channel! Then, you could watch what you recorded later. This conversation came about when Helter Skelter was set to air as a week long television event in 1976, aka: the week Rebecca spent evenings in her bedroom with the door closed playing with The Sunshine Family and Kojak-The Board Game (with her many invisible friends). So, I watched The Stepford Wives last night. I enjoyed the subtle science fiction of the film and the lack of information was actually a bit refreshing. That would never fly nowadays. We need all the answers in today's films! We can't leave anything to our own imagination, not when there are filmmakers out there willing to do all the dirty work for us. What I do not understand is how an entire town full of unattractive, boring men were able to “catch” such beautiful women. I do, however, understand why they would want to change them. It happens all the time. Men want the beautiful woman but do not want to deal with her beautiful mind. So, he tries to change her into the perfect house keeper, lover, and minimalist in the art of conversation. It's boring as hell, but I can certainly see how that would be easier for them. But, the film. We were talking about the film. I appreciated that it allowed me to do my own math. Joanna's new friend, Bobby, was far too bubbly, animated and delightful to last long in Stepford. We knew what would happen to her from the moment she bounced across the screen and we were sad for that fact for the duration of their friendship. She had spunk, and unlike Lou Grant, I love spunk! Joanna's husband's band of boring men friends had former careers far more interesting than their characters deserved … artists, animators, linguists, etc with companies like Disney and Playboy listed on their resumes. These bores had the experience and know-how to make the perfect automatons! It's actually very sad. The film explores a theme I've heard my whole life: Men want beautiful women who never age, or think, or contradict. They want to feel like Tarzan. They want to be The Best. And, embarrassingly, while I was watching, I thought – a couple of times – it would really be so much easier if I could be reprogrammed that way. (Until I saw the ending, of course!) I am being very simple in this “review”. Of course I caught all the themes tucked neatly between an abundance of product placement throughout the film. From the man carrying the naked mannequin to Joanna's flesh-colored, body-hugging hostess dress. Men want to play with beautiful dolls. (And Katharine Ross was very beautiful!) (I was happy to see Mary Stuart Masterson, too, as Joanna's adorable daughter.) Women were burning bras and growing their hair when this film was released and I absolutely get the social commentary. I also, quite simply, enjoyed the film.

Shakin' Off the Heat

Power Junkie

I think I'm addicted to electricity. Now I have to add that to my list of vices and I didn't even realize a person could have such an addiction. But here I sit, sweating in my summerweight pajamas, drinking a luke warm Diet Coke and wishing I could watch tv or get on Facebook. When I left work last night at 10:20pm, it was still a sweltering 100 degrees outside and the air was heavy with humidity. Even at the late hour, it felt difficult to breath and I hit the “MAX” button for the A/C in my car. For the first 5 miles or so, it was a normal drive, like any other summer night. As I approached the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, the wind picked up. And when I say “the wind picked up”, I mean, the wind picked up my car and moved it to another lane on the highway! Crossing the bridge, debris was flying and dirt was hitting the car like a full blown sandstorm. I don't know how so much debris could accumulate on a bridge – a bridge that sits very high off the water – and I honestly never thought of the banks of the Potomac River as particularly sandy, but that was the occurrence last night. By the time I crossed the bridge and veered off onto my exit, the rain had started and my vision was almost completely impaired by torrential currents, dirt and debris pelting me like I had done something naughty earlier in the day and had been caught! Another mile or two and the lights went out and the trees began falling onto the highway. I love living in such a beautifully wooded area until the woods start throwing themselves onto the pavement, then my feelings change somewhat. Trees were hitting the highway, cars were hitting the trees, rain and airborn trash was hitting the cars, and I was hitting my brakes. It took a long time to get home at this pace. The only lights on the road were the blaring lights on police cars and the hazard lights of vehicles that had become victims of falling trees. I plucked my way home feeling sad for my new car and more than a little worried that a tree was going to fall on my head. And anxious to get home to the dogs who are afraid of storms. (Well, the ringleader, Wednesday, is afraid of storms, so Puzzle and Prozac suffer fear by proxy.) I had to reroute myself in my neighborhood due to a large tree that had fallen completely over the street. In the darkness, I could see more than one vehicle looking quite smashed by the falling timber. But I finally made it to my little street. Usually, when our whole neighborhood loses power. We do not. I have no idea why we are spared, but I have followed the glow of my television home like the North Star on more than one occasion. But not last night. Last night, my house was just as dark and abandoned-looking as the rest of the neighborhood. I was a little sad about that, but happy to be home. I entered the house to find three very wet and smelly dogs. Why do they like to play outside in an ever-loving monsoon?! What is wrong with them? I thought Boder Collies were smart? They must all be mixed with Dummies. “What kind of dogs do you have?” “Oh, they're Border Collie/Dummy mixes.” Bordummies. Dodo Collies. But I digress ….. The only flashlight I could find in the disorienting dark was a small light on an elastic strap that fits around one's head. I fumbled with it and got a red light to glow. Ha! I picked my way upstairs using infrared headgear! By the time I changed clothes and made it into bed, I figured out how to get the light to glow regular white light and used that to read until the elastic squeezed my brain and I went to sleep. I was disheartened to find we were still out of power this morning. My weekends off are rare and I had plans for today. Plans that would include blow drying my hair, perhaps even using a curling iron a bit. Plans that would include ironing my clothes. I am a vain person, after all. Even after all that I put into my appearance, I still walk away feeling ugly, so imagine how I feel when I can't make any improvements whatsoever! It's going to be well over 100 degrees again today. I grew up poor and never had air conditioning, but we did have electricity and a well-placed fan or two. I would like a fan blowing on me right about now. Yes, I would.