Damn That Cable Company, Anyway.

I'm having intermittent problems with my cable internet reception, and no one at the cable company can figure out what the problem is.

Let's see if we can take a look and diagnose the trouble ourselves, shall we?


Oh. Dear. Yes. Well. That might be the problem, I suppose.

~C~

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

Rick Astley? Really?



I can't bear it. I missed the parade, but I'd like to stop now and give thanks for YouTube for preserving this moment forever.

"I like Rickrolling!!!"

No. Stop. You're killin' me.

~C~

Getting Organized

In an attempt to break the oppressive malaise (or is it ennui?) that has kept me from writing creatively for the past several months, I have taken to cleaning and reorganizing my apartment. I am taking stuff to storage, rearranging where things are put, attempting to create clean, open spaces in a tiny single apartment, and making things work more efficiently and with less drama.

This has involved packing and scrubbing, calling the Sears repairman to come and fix my broken fridge, go shopping for a replacement for the sporadically working television, trying to redesign my living areas into more functional zones of operation. I used my Target gift cards (given me by the friends who know and love me best) to purchase several things that will help me organize my shelves and storage spaces.

Here is the beginning of organizing the bookshelves, which will store my photography and printing supplies, important papers and collections of writing.

And here are the two bins purchased to help organize the chest of drawers into socks and undies and bras.

And here is the cat bin. Hey. Wait. What?

Apparently, I have a cat bin. It wasn't purchased as a cat bin. It was purchased as a place to store all my notebooks for my writing and residency notes. It seems Inuyasha didn't get the memo. She's thinking it's the cat bin.

Hmmm... The question now is, how to convince her she's sadly mistaken. Unless of course, I'm the one who is sadly mistaken.

Another trip to the other Target is in order tomorrow for more bins and magazine boxes, so that I can rearrange my living area and make it a more reasonable space.

And to get more cat bins.

Oh, dear.

~C~

Where There's Life, There's Hope. And Vice Versa.

This book is information that EVERYONE needs to have in order to save their own life.



This is simple, it's easy, and it's the right way to live, whether you have cancer or not. Dr. Servan-Schreiber has lived for fourteen years after his diagnosis of brain cancer. There's no reason not to live this way every day.

The human brain and the human heart are the two biggest weapons in our fight against terminal disease. What a revelation!

~C~

A Non-Partison, Non-Political Story of Selflessness and Compassion.

Mitch Albom had a piece published on freep.com on my fiftieth birthday (Sunday, Nov. 2) about one Marilyn Mock, a 50-year-old Texas rock yard owner who committed what could be termed the Granddaddy of all Random Acts of Kindness in history. While attending a foreclosure auction with her son, who was buying a house, she met a young woman named Tracey Orr, who was most definitely not there to buy a house. Tracey was there to say good-bye to her own beloved house, which she lost after she'd lost her job and had fallen behind on the payments. The mortgage company foreclosed. Touched by Orr's story, Mock found herself bidding on the $80,000 home. She won the bidding at $30K. She and Orr have worked out payment arrangements. The long and the short of it was that Mock made it possible for Orr to get her beloved home back, to the tune of $30,000. For a woman Mock had never met. Just because her heart had been touched by Orr's story.

People, I've made no secret of my choice for president. But make no mistake. No matter who wins tomorrow, the road ahead is going to be long and bumpy, more for some of us than for others. The economic crisis we face are not going away tomorrow or next months or on January 21, 2009, when we inaugurate the man we select tomorrow.

We are going to need to be good to each other, and kind to each other. We are going to need to cut each other some slack and give each other a break. We are going to have to come together and create a grassroots support system for those among us who struggle the most.

Apparently, Marilyn Mock doesn't see the country as a "have/have not" affair, but rather a place where we share what we have with those that have not. I like Marilyn Mock's view of America, and frankly, I think we all need to think about buying into it. I think if we make that effort, we'll come through this mess okay.

~C~

Hope On Hudson

Hope Edelman, who used to teach creative non-fiction at my alma mater, Antioch, gave an interview on our local CBS Channel 2 news about Jennifer Hudson's loss of her family this past weekend, particularly her mother. Edelman is the author of Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss, a collection of stories, including her own, of women who hve lost their mothers.

I had hoped to study with Edelman during my creative non-fiction semester, but she left Antioch before the opportunity arose. (I'm not taking it personally, though.)

My heart goes out to Jennifer Hudson and her sister for their loss. I'm hoping they can find their way out of a pain so deep as to be unimaginable.

~C~

Where I Was (and Why Nothing Can Phase Me Now)

~C~

Gone Two Bunchin'!

Yep, I'm going to be gone for a few days, starting Sunday. I'm going to the spa to indulge in treatments and long, loooooongggg soaks in the lithium-laden water of natural desert hot springs. I'm planning on reading, sleeping, eating amazing food and maybe taking an early morning walk in the desert.

I am taking my computer, but the odds are good I won't be blogging. I've decided to relax and put my election neurosis on hold for a few days, while I indulge in a cranial-sacral massage and a lovely mud bath. I'll be back and available to blog probably by Saturday.

Be good. Behave. Drink responsibly. Stay in school. Don't do drugs.

And, since I'm away relaxing, why don't you guys take a little break, too, by flipping through the Christian Science Monitor's Autumn Foliage photo page. If this doesn't lighten your heart, you don't have one, by golly.

~C~

Just When You Thought People Were Kind of Useless

Cook County Sheriff Thomas Dart just won the first annual Naked Voodoo Chicken Dance Award (hereby nicknamed... uh.... the "Voodie"... yeah.... that's it) for being an absolute, undeniable mensch.



Today, Sheriff Dart declared a moritorium on evictions in Cook County unless and until financial institutions start proving they've fulfilled their responsibilities regarding giving occupants -- whether owners or tenants -- sufficient notice. Sick and tired of hearing about his deputies serving papers on renters who had been paying their rent on time, only to be screwed over by unscrupulous landlords, Dart said today, "We're not going to do their jobs for them anymore. We're just not going to evict innocent tenants. It stops today." And it did.

At the end of the video, several deputies are seen attempting to complete an eviction, only to discover an elderly ill woman in the apartment. The eviction was suspended, and Social Services was called in to provide the woman with aid.

So, here's to you, Sheriff Dart, for finally putting the brakes on unjust evictions.

~C~

~These Confusing, Disorienting Times ~

It's easy nowadays to look up from our busy lives and discover that we have totally lost our way, and are now completely rudderless and without our bearings to find our way home. But don't take my word for it.

Just ask these little guys.



~C~

Portrait Of An Unhappy Kitty

Freya has a major tummy issue. She's been throwing up since late Saturday morning. Just when I think it's over, it starts again. She's sequestered herself in the top-most spot in my closet.

She is going to see a new vet today.
UPDATE: From unhappy to mildly indignant, but otherwise okay. This is what comes from escaping into the night and eating something dead and rotten one finds hanging out on the ground (let that be a lesson to us all!!).

But, kitty has subcue fluids, a shot of penicillin, a shot of B-12 and a shot to cure her "kitty acne," too.

All better.

~C~

Deer One

I am not going to apologize for this. It is hopelessly, tragically, critical, severely adorable, and I do NOT care who knows it.

Rupert the Fawn

There. There's your morning dose of precious. Now be gone with you and spread the cute.

~C~

So Long, Paul.

Dear Paul,

I can call you Paul, right? I mean, it only seems fair, since I've been in love with you for the past 40 years. The first time I saw you was on television, in a movie called What A Way To Go, with Shirley MacLaine. I originally wanted to see the movie because my previous love, Gene Kelly, was in it. But then I saw you, and I had to break Gene's heart and dump him for you. I was ten. I do realize I'm not alone. I'm just one of the legion of women (and men -- not that there's anything wrong with that) who fell in love with you and never fell out.

So, before you go on to wherever it is you're destined to go, I'd just like to list a few reasons why I... why we... why we all... loved you.

We love that you were so incredibly beautiful, and yet, according to everyone who knew you, you had no idea, and when the topic was brought up, it merely annoyed you.

We love that you were more interested in being true to a character and turning in a good performance then you ever were about the way you looked or the likability of your characters.

We love that you were married to the same woman for fifty years, which has got to be some kind of movie star record as far as we're concerned. And we love that the two of you seemed to genuinely still love each other after all those years together, and that you grew old together, and that you were the example that it can be done.

We love that you were able to look at the blessings you received and be gracious enough to give back when you could, and that you found a way to do it in a way that will continue to generate charitable income (hopefully) for years to come.

We love that, no matter your age, your eyes stayed every bit as blue as ever, and that there was always a bit of the demon twinkle in them, even if you weren't smiling at that moment. And we loved that you were almost always smiling.

We love that you were here, that you were one of us for a while and that you worked hard and played hard and loved your family. We love that you gave us your performing self, but kept your personal self private. It preserved our mystery.

We love that we were able to love you for a time and we are a little melancholy that we must now love you from an ever greater distance than before. But we will go on loving you, because it's what we do, regardless of the people we love in real life.

So, safe journey. Peace be with you. And thanks again for all the great good fun.

~C~

Black Ops Cat

Seriously. Why are we wasting time and endangering human operatives?

This guy's good.



~C~

My New Favorite Champion Swimmer (Not Michael Phelps, Smarties.)

Meet Christopher Marino, age 13. He's the one on the left in the picture. Christopher and his father, Walter, (pictured with him) had a teensy-tinesy little adventure not long ago. They were swimming off of Florida's Atlantic coast when they got caught in a powerful rip current and were swept apart. Nearly three miles apart. For 12 hours, Walter and Christopher treaded water, growing further and further apart with each passing minute. To gauge distance, Walter continued to call to Christopher, using lines from Disney movies back and forth.

"To infinity," Walter would call.

"And beyond!" Christopher responded.

Eventually, there was no response. Walter was sure Christopher was gone. When he was rescued by fisherman and transferred to a Coast Guard cutter, he went down below because he couldn't bear to watch them come across Christopher's lifeless body. When the Coast Guard called him up from below, he was sure the news would be the worst. Instead, they pointed to a Coast Guard helicopter flying overhead.

"See that helicopter?" they told Marino. "It has your son on board, and he's fine."

Christopher beat Walter back to shore, though he was nearly a quarter mile farther out to sea. Both Marinos suffered from mild exposure and dehydration, and jellyfish stings, but were otherwise fine. The Coast Guard rescue unit was pretty gob-smacked. They had been looking for the pair for nearly as long as they'd been gone, and were sure after the first ten or so hours, they'd find bodies.

How did these two survive? Walter survived by refusing to panic, even after he thought he'd lost his son. He remained calm, thought of his daughter and how he couldn't let her suffer two deaths in the family, and alternated between floating on his back, and dog-paddling with the rip current until he was rescued.

As for Christopher, we'll never know how he survived after he lost contact with his father. Christopher is severly autistic and is almost entirely non-verbal, save for vocalizations and lines from movies and t.v. shows. Marino believes it was autism that saved his son.

Christopher has no fear of death, Marino explains. "And the water is one of his favorite things." Christopher is soothed by water, so managed to avoid panicking himself. When they wafted through a jellyfish school and began getting stung, Christopher did start to freak out, but Walter talked him through it. Shortly thereafter, the boy drifted out of his father's earshot.

We will never know what happened to Christopher once he was separated from his father. We only know he kept on swimming and treading water, until he was picked up by Coast Guard helicopter. It was the rescue of the father that led to the rescue of the son, as the Coast Guard was able to reorient their search for Christopher once Walter had been picked up with the fishing boat. If Walter had given up, as he considered doing for a moment when he thought his son was lost, then his son would have been lost.

So, move over Michael Phelps. Christopher Marino is my new favorite championship swimmer.

~C~

Where's Caylee?

I can't imagine why police and the FBI think this crackpot killed her child and disposed of the body. What with her sterling character and her upstanding, forthright demeanor.

Ummm... Casey? If you can find some free time in your busy schedule of being perpetually arrested and arraigned on child neglect charges, petty theft, check forgery and identity fraud, do you think you might take a moment to tell law enforcement what the hell you did WITH YOUR FREAKIN' KID?

Somebody give me a rolled up newspaper. Someone needs to be hit upside the head.

~C~

SNL's Fey as Sarah Palin

There's just one thing to say about Tina Fey's portrayal of Sarah Palin on Saturday Night Live this past weekend.

Scary.



Okay, really funny would be a couple of other words. But Fey's resemblance to Palin (which people have been discussing for days now in anticipation of just this sketch) is truly eerie. It also give me ideas.

Anybody ever see the movie "DAVE"?

Just sayin'....

~C~

Here's Something You Don't See Every Day.

It's not unusual to see huge feature credits in the middle of a trailer for a movie that has an "all-star" cast. But the trailer for Gus Van Sant's "Milk," the biographical account of the political ascendancy of San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk, the first openly gay candidate to be elected to public office, includes an absolutely ENORMOUS single-card credit for writer Dustin Lance Black. (The image at right really doesn't do it justice -- it's HUGE in the trailer.)

Black, who has but a few credits to his name, has written several episodes of one of our favorite, favorite HBO series, Big Love. It's very rare that a relatively unknown screenwriter is given that kind of nod, particularly in a trailer. His agent must be Jesus Christ, I swear. But it's nice to see anyway.

Here is the trailer:



Personal favorite moment:

Dan White (as played by Josh Brolin): America can't survive without the family.
Milk (as played by Sean Penn): We're not against that.
White: Can two men reproduce?
Milk: No, but God knows we keep trying.

Penn's performance looks (as usual) amazing. I have so resisted him, on principle more than anything (I think it was the whole Madonna nightmare that soured me), but I think I'm finally coming to the point where I can come out of the closet and admit the truth.

Yes, America, it's a fact. I'm a Sean Penn fan.

~C~

Billy Joe Don Bob's What Not To Wear

Here's a credibility fashion tip. If you're from south of the Mason-Dixon line and you're on a show called "MonsterQuest," talking about the night you went out squirrel hunting with a relative named Earl, and you and he came across Big Foot, you probably don't want to wear a trucker hat and a pair of overalls during the on-camera interview.

Just sayin'.

~C~

A Chorus Line and A Haunted Hotel.

Confession: I'm a bad, bad Broadway mommy.

I have a child who loves to sing and act, and is quite good at it. She has been exposed to a number of Broadway musicals, operas and plays that most kids her age have never seen or even heard of. And yet, the one musical that totally revolutionized theater in the 1970's -- the one that put Marvin Hamlisch on the map, and made Michael Bennett a household name (at least in the households that watched the Tony Awards) outside of New York -- my daughter had not only never seen, but had never even heard the original Broadway recording of.

A Chorus Line. The self-described "greatest musical... EVER," according to the website dedicated to the Broadway revival and touring companies there of. And who are we to argue the point? So, when I was able to get hold of two tickets to the touring company's performance at the San Diego Civic Theatre for this past Thursday, I grabbed 'em.

Not wanting to drive all the way to San Diego and back in the same day, I decided we should book a hotel in the area and spend the night. I am not particularly familiar with the refurbished downtown area of San Diego, so picking a hotel was kind of a crap-shoot. The ones closest to the Civic Center were very expensive. I took a run at hotels.com and a couple of other similar sites, and came up with the Courtyard Marriott - Downtown. It was walking distance, it was a Marriott (much like Pizza Hut, you know it might not be great, but it won't totally suck), and the price was right. I booked it.

I figured the show would be the event. But then, we got to the hotel. The Courtyard Marriott, it turns out, has situated itself in what used to be the old San Diego Trust & Savings Bank building, originally built as part of the downtown financial district in old San Diego. The building was declared an historic landmark sometime in the 90s, and underwent a conversion to a hotel shortly thereafter. The designers did everything they could to preserve the original feeling of the building. The woodwork, the marble-lined hallways, the deep rust-and-gold carpeting -- all restored from the original office building design. All of it combines to give the hotel a really kind of... well, frankly... creepy feeling. In the best possible way, of course.

The lobby has been preserved and turned into the hotel bar and dining room, and the original ceiling was fully restored. It is pretty breathtaking. The teller windows have been converted into customer service windows.

The elevator lobby has also been restored and preserved, much as I'm sure it looked when the building first opened. We thought the hotel was beautiful when we first checked in, but it was the elevator ride to the room that first clued us in that perhaps this was no... ordinary hotel. The ornate doors and mahogany paneled interiors of the elevators really set the stage for what's to come upstairs.

The hallways looked like something out of Stephen King's Overlook Hotel. I was a bit disappointed that we didn't see two spectral twins floating, zombie-like, through the hallways. Maybe that costs extra. Who knows? I guess I should have been suspicious of the lower room rate after all. Why, here is one of the hotel's perky young guests, taking her elevator ride to her room. Is that a look of apprehension on her face?

In any case, the rooms are very comfortable, though the added bathroom designs are a bit awkward. Still, the beds are decent, the air conditioning works with a vengeance, and...

Here's our pretty hotel guest, fully recovered from her elevator ride, relaxing in her peejays with a novel (about young vampires and werewolves in love, but why quibble?). She seems to feel safe and secure enough, doesn't she? Nothing ominious here.

Surely, there are no such things as ghosts to keep this young lady on edge here at the lovely Courtyard Marriott - Downtown.

And here's our lovely young miss, taking care of some last minute details on the handy hallway phone (circa 1940s). (Note: She's not that blurry in real-life -- the photographer is still trying to master the new camera on moving targets.) No ghoulies or goblins to taint her holiday.

After all, so what if the hallways outside the room are long, marble-bedecked and not-so-well lit. It's not like anything spooky can happen in an old bank-and-trust building built in 1928 in downtown San Diego, right?

I mean they've complete renovated. Seriously. It's not like they'd have anything spiritually tainted from the original building... like... say.... the bank vault or anything.

In any case, the play was wonderful, Savannah and I thoroughly enjoyed it, and (except for some sound issues we had with the venue), it was a smashing theatrical experience.

The hotel, though... that was a nice little find. So much so that I've purchased tickets for The Drowsy Chaperone next month. Hopefully, Savannah will be able to get away from school for a day to see it with me.

We'll be staying at the Courtyard Downtown San Diego, thanks. We're sure they're just dying to see us again.

~C~