Turn Off The Dark

One of my Christmas gifts was a pair of tickets to see the Spiderman show on Broadway. I guess this is going to turn into a review.

I’m a big fan of superheroes. There’s just something about those muscular bodies running around in tights, saving the world that I enjoy. The superhero concept must appeal to a vast majority of people or its allure would not have endured over the centuries. Who wouldn’t wish that Superman was real, watching over Gotham?

The show didn’t get very good reviews but I still went in with an open mind. The reviews were right. Mostly. First let me say certain aspects of it were amazing. The set, the costumes and especially the acrobatics were fantastic. I’m thinking the kids sitting in the balcony got a big thrill when Spiderman swung up there.

The bad? Well the actors did the best they could with what they had but the plot – could have been better, especially the first half. I won’t even talk about one plot element that was ridiculous & unnecessary. And the music? Really Bono? That was the best you could do? There was only one good song in the lot.

In spite of all that, when the cast came out at the end, they got a standing ovation. In my mind, I always thought that was reserved for performances that were truly outstanding. These days it seems every single show ends with a standing ovation. Every single one. Hasn’t that made it kind of meaningless?

It was still a fun evening out. We don’t seem to get out nearly often enough. I think that has to change.

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Insomnia, How Do I Hate Thee

How do I hate insomnia? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My slumber refuses to reach, when sleep seems out of sight.
For the end of being awake is my ideal grace.
I hate thee to the highest level at every day’s end.
My quiet need is to sleep when the sun gives way to candle-light.
I hate thee freely, my strife at night.
I hope this purely is just a phase.
I long with a passion to put to use
My old pillow and with my dreamy faith.
I hate thee with a hatred for all seems lost.
With my lost hours of sleep. I miss the gentle breath
Of a restful slumber all my life; and, if God choose,
I would at last fall asleep and not feel like the zombie of death.

(With apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

Okay, it’s not really a sonnet. Not even close. Nor is it all that great as a piece of poetry but hey, what do you expect from a sleep-deprived zombie?

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Shocking Research

Research proves that you can taser your friend and if your friend thinks you’re doing it with his best intentions in mind, it won’t hurt. Really. It says it right here. Fine, maybe I exaggerated just a tiny bit. In any case, I have a few questions about this study.

First of all, I’m no psychologist but wouldn’t common sense tell you that if you’re nice to someone and if they feel like you truly care about them, it will improve their overall mood and outlook? Likewise, if you feel crappy and are having a really awful day, every pain, whether physical or mental, will seem worse?

Next big question: who the heck thinks up these experiments? Is there a big room full of scientists and researchers saying, “How can we test the affect of a good mood on the perception of pain? I know! Let’s make people give their friends electric shocks!” Then all the other scientists in the room cheer because it seems like a great plan. I say whoever had the brilliant idea should be the first guinea pig.




A friend once told a story about what she considered an important part of how she taught her students. If she needed to critique a paper, she would always point out two good things about what they had written before getting to the part where she felt they could do better. I’m betting she never read any studies to figure out a person just might be more receptive to criticism if they don’t feel you think their entire paper is horrible.

That brings me back to my first point – common sense. Maybe all these brilliant people discount common sense and think unless you prove something in an experiment, it’s not real.

At the end of that article, they mention that a doctor’s bedside manner can affect how much pain a patient is in. That means Dr. House’s patients must be in a whole lot of pain!

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Happy Lunar New Year

Today is the Chinese New Year. According to my extensive research in this matter, it has something to do with the moon. I’m sure the word ‘lunar’ didn’t give that away. I believe it’s tied in to the new moon. I couldn’t really determine that with any certainty, not being able to see the moon tonight. Hey, I’m not going out there to look. It’s raining. There are limits to what lengths I’m willing to go through for the sake of research. Getting wet is not on that list. Besides, I suspect that, due to the rain, there are probably a few clouds out there so they’d be blocking the view, anyway.

It is the year of the dragon. The newscast tonight said there is an expected baby boom because it’s supposed to be good luck having a baby in the year of the dragon. I didn’t catch whether it’s good luck for the parents or the child. My daughter is a dragon. I guess that makes one of us lucky. Or both.

Okay, it’s pretty clear I did no research whatsoever. I’m just going to make stuff up. Hmmm….. what qualities does my daughter share with a dragon? Well if you get her annoyed, she may seem to breathe fire at you. Get her angry enough and she may actually do it. Then, again, I guess the same could be said for me and I’m a rooster. Yes, a rooster. Not a very flattering image but I suppose it’s better than a rat or a pig (my apologies to those of you who fall under either of those categories).

My husband is a dog. I’m not sure if dogs and roosters are supposed to get along. I know horses and roosters get along just fine. The reason I know this is because once we did a little tour of Belmont Park. There are roosters in the stables with the horses. I think horses like pets and they figured a rooster would make a fine pet for a horse. Either that or the rooster acts as the horse’s alarm clock.

I found this little chart online so everyone can see what year they were born in:




So what animal are you?

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Storm Of The Century

That’s what we did not get yesterday. All in all, I’d say we got maybe a couple of inches of snow followed by sleet followed by below freezing temperatures. Now you’d think that because this happened on a Saturday, most people would be home. One would assume most people would have shoveled their sidewalks. Oddly enough, 24 hours later, it seemed like most people did not.

We found that out when we walked the 3 blocks to Church and had to walk most of the way in the streets. Well we didn’t have to walk in the street. We could have kept to the sidewalks and ice skated our way there. Of course that would require ice skates. And the ability to stay upright while on said ice skates. Since I have neither ice skates nor the ability to use them, I made the wise decision to stick to the streets.

A bit over a year ago, we got hit with the big Day After Christmas Blizzard. The sanitation workers didn’t exactly handle that too well. (Why oh why didn’t I take video of the snow plows going down the streets with their plows raised that day? It would have made a great viral YouTube video!) It seems that, due to that fiasco, they now do overkill. The plows went down our block with salt and sand and plows lowered at least a dozen times. Yes, for 2 or 3 inches of snow. Apparently it takes many, many passes with the snow plow to clear the streets.

I can assure you that the streets were quite clear when we walked to Church. That was this afternoon. At least 3 plows have come down the block within the past hour. Maybe the guys riding them are annoyed that they can’t be home watching the football game so they’re bored?

Speaking of football, I’m not a huge fan but the men here are so the Ravens N.E. game was on. I was rooting for the Ravens – partly because of the movie The Blindside, partly because we don’t like anything New England. I wasn’t really paying attention until the very end. Then I was paying close attention. I watched that boy kick that football. I thought for sure he was going to tie the game. Then I saw the ball sail away from the goal posts. Maybe it’s the mother in me but all I kept thinking of was, “That poor guy!” I cannot imagine being in his place. There he was, with a chance to be a hero, to tie the game, and he misses a field goal. (I think that’s what it’s called…) The poor guy looked like he was in shock. I’m thinking he’s not going to be a fan favorite when they get home to Baltimore.

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One Size Fits All – Part II

Sure that can apply to oh, let’s say clothing. While nearly everyone can possibly get that one size fits all tee-shirt over their head, clearly it’s going to look like a dress on some people and look like a belly shirt on others. I guess the trick there is they didn’t specify how it would look on all.

My particular issue, however, has nothing to do with clothing. No. This came about after my twenty millionth unpleasant experience at the dentist while having x-rays taken. I don’t know what size mouth they were thinking of when they made those things but it obviously wasn’t mine.

When I was a kid, I always got in trouble for things I said. I was told I had a big mouth. That that is a complete lie. I do not have a big mouth. Quite the opposite is true, thus the x-ray issue.

I am also convinced that the dental profession is a profession based on sadism. The writer of Little Shop of Horrors was definitely on to something. What other explanation can there be for all the various torture items? Even the sounds are horrible. Are you telling me no one has been able to invent something that will do these jobs without causing pain and unpleasantness?

“First I’m going to jam these huge plastic things into your mouth with x-ray films attached that will cut into your mouth. Next I will use a device with water that is sprayed out with a force that would cut bricks in half. After that, I am going to use an ice pick to scrape your teeth until the blood flows like rivers from your gums.” Sadists, I tell you.

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One Size Fits All

Those 4 words are the biggest lie ever perpetrated on consumers. It is a complete fabrication. And I would be happy to explain why if only it wasn’t nearly midnight.

I don’t quite know how it happened but I was heading off to bed and suddenly realized I hadn’t blogged today. This probably shouldn’t count but tough luck. It does. I can tell because the little calendar thingie is showing up for the 20th.

Stay tuned. Tomorrow’s will be way more interesting.

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Of Mice And Women

My friends seem to think I’m some sort of tech geek. I have no idea where they got that impression. What? Just because I know how to open up a computer without breaking it – that makes me a computer expert? Completely untrue. I’m just good at unscrewing teeny tiny screws and plugging in things with lots of pretty, colored wires.

Last week there was an email in my in box from a friend. Her mouse had died. Well, it wasn’t quite dead; just paralyzed on its right side. Clearly it suffered a stroke. It was a mouse emergency. Plans were made for me to swoop in and replace the dying mouse with a new, younger model.

It should have been a simple thing: unplug the pitiful, paralyzed mouse, plug in the energetic young one. But no. The new mouse refused to run across the screen. So much for my reputation as a computer whiz. After a few minutes and a few failed attempts at different solutions, a light bulb went off. The new mouse didn’t want to move into the old mouse house. No, he was too good for that. He wanted his own, brand new, never touched by another mouse USB slot.

Ah, order is restored in the universe.

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Impulse Shopping

I discovered it is a bad, bad thing. I am not at all good at it. This is how it happened: My printer was dying. It was quite old. It led a fine, fulfilling life cranking out page after page but it’s time was nearing an end.

There I was, in the mega office supply store buying something mundane like labels or envelopes. Then it happened. A thought popped into my head. “Why don’t I pass by the printers?” It seemed innocent enough. Wouldn’t you know it? They had a nice little laser printer on sale. Minutes later, it was in my car on its way to a new home.

The love affair with the printer didn’t last long. It was the worst printer I’ve ever owned. It jammed too easily. The manual feed was horrible. It didn’t take small things like index cards. Still, I tried to make things work out. I didn’t want to give up on the relationship. We went on for a few years and were miserable. I finally decided to end things. Yes, I broke up with my failure of a printer.

The new edition was carefully researched. No more impulse buying for me! I spent hours online reading reviews and finding the lowest price this time around. I was going to do things right.

Yesterday my brand new computer arrived. I went to pick up the box our UPS man left just outside the door. That didn’t work out too well. The box was just a wee bit heavier than I thought. With some effort, I did manage to drag it into the house.

There were gazillion pages of instructions on how to unpack it. The very first item had a little picture of two men lifting the printer out of the box. “Warning! This printer weighs a ton! Do not try to lift it by yourself!” Ha! Like I’m going to listen to that? Like I’m going to let a brand new printer sit in a box all day long and wait for someone to come home and help me? Did I do that when I put the bookshelves together? No, I put them together all by myself. And so I lifted that baby out and set about following the directions on how to unpack twenty thousand pieces of tape, protective plastic and assorted other plastic parts. It only took a few hours.

That evening when Frank came home, I proudly showed off my new baby & told him how I managed to get it up onto the table without any help; how I had mocked those whussy men in the picture. Of course the first thing he does is look at me, frown and say, “I hope you didn’t hurt your back.”

Eh. Nothing a few Ibuprofens can’t fix. No, really. Fit as a fiddle. Healthy as a horse. (Any Koontz readers out there get that reference?)

So far I am quite happy in my new relationship. I think this is the one. It’s true love, I tell ya.

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Grand Illusion

I was going to complain again about there only being 3 votes on my poll. I was going to say clearly there isn’t that big of an interest in my story so I’m not telling it. But that wouldn’t be fair to the 2 who asked for the story and besides, I’m done being crabby for the day so here it is:

Once upon a time two crazy people got married. The husband expected his stepchildren to be prepared for life and he felt part of this preparation should be a college degree. In spite of all his unreasonable and crazy demands, this one was pretty sensible.

One of the stepchildren was not a student. He was never a particularly good student and really had no interest in attending college but went anyway. After a while, he had had enough.

The woman had a dilemma on her hands. She had always let her children do whatever they wanted to do and had given them anything they wanted. No matter how unreasonable their requests where, her children were treated like royalty because she felt it is a mother’s job to make sure her children are happy. How could she let her child stop attending college and yet, avoid having her nut husband badger her and her son day and night about getting a college degree? What to do, what to do…. Suddenly, the answer came to her! She would tell the husband that her son was finished with his studies and got his degree.

Crazy woman had a big graduation party. She invited all of her family and her son’s friends. Somehow she managed to either borrow a cap & gown or Photoshop her son wearing one because there were graduation pictures. I don’t know what she did for a degree but I suspect there is a Photoshopped one someplace.

Is it just me or is the whole fake graduation thing the craziest thing you ever heard of?

Posted in Ramblings | 5 Comments