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Upon hearing that Bravo TV was going to do a “Real Housewives of DC” program, I wondered what on earth would constitute a “real” housewife of DC?  Especially since I was fairly certain it wouldn’t be a Mom juggling 3 kids, a house, a budget, a husband and probably a job to boot.

Then when I found out that the party crashers at the White House state dinner were under consideration for said program, I had my answers.

Skanky attention whores with bad dye jobs.

So, it’s looks like it will be just like the rest of the franchise, but maybe with a little less plastic surgery.

and in an apparently brilliant attempt to recover, pulled into a tree.  I can only assume that he was driving in the fog with his brights on.  (It would seem this will in fact make me crash my car someday.)

The aerial shots of the “crash scene” are so very telling.  The story they tell is, “Tiger has a nice house.”

He’s already been released from the hospital, so he’s not dead.  The police have said alcohol was not a factor, so no scandal.

I can see where this would mention a 60 second spot in the sports report on the evening news.  Beyond that, there are very few people in the America that have a pressing need to know all this, and to know it every break during the football game.  (Or DURING the football game for that matter.)

Those people with a pressing need to know are his family, and I’m guessing they already are up on all the news.  Other than that, his agent and his sponsors, and I’m quite certain they’ve all been in communication today.

God I hate the 24 hour news cycle.

My Moxley The AwesomeDog has had a rough couple of days.

To begin with, he has to deal with two tween girl cats.  (Seriously, if they were human, they’d be in the “OMG, TWILIGHT!!!!!!!!!”  stage of life and having serious arguments over being Team Edward vs. Team Jacob.)

That in and of itself is rough for any happy, laid-back canine.  Then the other insults came along.

The other night I discovered a mat behind his ear.  For being a dog made of fun-fur, the fact that he only gets mats behind his ears or on his front elbows still surprises me to no end.  (And I do try very hard to keep those areas brushed and mat-free to begin with.)  But a mat behind his ear has to be at least somewhat uncomfy when he goes to scratch behind his ears.  So, I got out the blunt-end kindergarten scissors to tend to it.  That right there was 10 rounds, because he kept deciding to leave the area, and I pick my battles.  But, we finally got the mat clipped out.

Then tonight Donald discovered a tick on his head.  Great.  Being the coward that I am, I gave my brother the tweezers and said, “Knock yourself out – I’ll help hold him still if you need it.”  (The last time he had a tick when it was just me, I *tried* to get it out, and ended up taking him to the vet to get it out because I was sure I’d rip out half his little scalp in the process.  God bless my vet who only laughed a little bit at me – he would have been justified in laughing so hard he needed to change his undies.)  But little bro removed it and all was good.

And then I came home this evening and discovered that Mox had eye-goobers.  I don’t really know any other way to describe it, but if you have had pets, then you know what eye-goobers are.  They’re not gross, they just are what they are.  But, I had to remove said eye-gunk.  And Oh My God, the dog was so NOT PLEASED.  Not angry, not aggressive, not pissy.  Simply NOT PLEASED.

On top of all of these indignities, last night we let the kittens out to have the run of the upstairs and main level during sleeping hours.  It went something like this, “Run, Run, Run, Bark, Bark, Bark, Run, Run, Run.”  Donald came upstairs at a rather late hour and was greeted by an exhausted dog wondering WHY AREN’T THE KITTENS IN THEIR ROOM??”  He finally got to sleep when they woke me up at 4AM after knocking a plastic bowl of change off the counter in the bathroom that sounded way too much like shattering glass, so I brought them back into my room for the remainder of the night.  Tonight, they stay in – we ALL need to sleep and I’d prefer not to burn the turkey tomorrow due to sleep deprivation.

And despite all these indignities, all I have to do is look to the muppet dog to my right on the loveseat and say, “Howya doin’ Moxley?” and I get a tail wagging so fast it’s a blur and a pup who wants nothing more than to give kisses and get his tummy rubbed.

And that my friends, is why he’s not just a good dog, or a great dog, but the AwesomeDog.

Here in lovely Fairfax County we are under a “Dense Fog Alert” from the National Weather Service.  And I can attest that they were correct, as there is a boatload of seriously dense fog out there this evening.

But as I was driving through it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my days in Driver’s Ed, as Coach* told us that if we were driving in the fog, we should NOT put our brights on, no matter how much we wanted to.  There was something about glare and such, and I could only silently nod my head in agreement.  I was a sophomore, I sucked at all science, and had no experience actually driving anywhere other than around the block, much less in the fog, so it sounded perfectly reasonable.

Until the first time I actually drove in fog, quite some time later.  I drove along, hearing Coach’s voice in my head, and yet I turned the brights on anyway.  Part of it was to simply be able to see what on earth he was talking about.  When he gave the lecture, I only had my learner’s permit and wasn’t driving on foggy nights anyway, so I really had no idea what he was talking about.  The other part was to see if he was correct or off his rocker.

So I flipped on the brights.  And yes, there was a bit of glare.  But the world most certainly didn’t come to an end!  Even with the glare, I could see SO MUCH MORE than I would have been able to see otherwise.  And I survived the foggy drive home.  And all I could think the entire time was, “That bastard LIED to me!!”  (And I was in college at that point and it still pissed me off.)

I don’t know if they’re still throwing the “no brights in the fog” as the Driver’s Ed party line, but I hope not – because it’s just another reason to make the younger generation not trust anyone over 30.

The moral of the story?  Don’t go with scare tactics – they don’t work.

*Because isn’t the assistant coach of the football team the best person for teaching Driver’s Ed?

I keep seeing ads on Bravo for an upcoming reality show called “Launch My Line”…

They have a handful of “moguls” from various industries (none of whom I have heard of) and they are paired up with a handful of fashion designers (most of whom appear to be the stuff of nightmares) so they can launch a fashion line.

From these trailers, I have come to the following conclusions:

– Apparently any idiot can have their own fashion line.

– Bravo TV has too many programming hours to fill.

– There seem to be enough people in the world that will actually watch this, otherwise it wouldn’t go on the air.  (I think that is the part that disturbs me the most.)

I doubt I’ll be tuning in.

Thanksgiving is just around the corner!!!

I think it’s pretty much my favorite holiday, and I’ll admit, I like it a lot better when I’m single.  No travel, no pretending to like green bean casserole or that sweet potatoes with melted marshmallows on top are not an affront to nature.  No getting sucked into someone else’s family dramas.  Did I mention NO TRAVEL?

I get to make up a whole mess of food, eat way more in one day than any healthy person should, and watch a bunch of football.  It’s the ultimate selfish I-get-to-do-it-MY-WAY holiday. :)

And I’m thankful that I’m smart enough to appreciate it.

And now I have to go find a turkey.

So, about mid-way through last year’s Christmas visit to PHX, it was decided that we would stay in a hotel this year.  The condo is just too small, the sleep deprivation is too much for me, and neither one of us can maintain any measure of grace or dignity in dealing with my grandmother if we can’t get out of there for at least a little bit each day.

Now, given how my grandmother is, I told Donald that HE had to tell her that we’d be in a hotel.  I’m just really, really tired of being the bad guy.  Well, she was quite happy to hear we would be in a hotel.  Yup, shocked the hell out of me, since in the past she’d been all about us staying with her.

To be honest, I’m not really sure she’s super keen on us visiting in the first place.  But honestly, I don’t know what the protocol is on that, and I suspect that despite the fact I’d much rather have Christmas here at home, there is some rule that, “You go visit because it’s family regardless of whether or not anyone actually wants it.”  (Stupid rule if you ask me.)

Now, karma is a bitch and my brother & I doing the happy hotel dance in the middle of the living room was countered by a flurry of calls between 2:30 and 3:00 am…  At least she was chipper, and did acknowledge it was a bit late to be calling.  (She has long since ceased even trying to remember what time it is here and admits as much, but this was a record.)

And that is never good.  Everywhere I have ever worked the rule was, “If Cindy has a twitching eye, leave her alone for a bit.  Really, it’s in your best interest.”  My grandmother never got this memo, hence her contributions to my visual seizures when she was in town, and her continuing contributions even when 2,000 miles away.

As my grandmother’s dementia/Alzheimer’s/whatever-the-hell-it-is has progressed, I’ve gotten more and more used to the odd calls.  And I have done my level best to answer those calls with sincerity and good humor.

Tonight however, was a new one.

“Where would I go to get a photo for an ID?”

*Idiot that I am, I just answered without further inquiry.*

“Um, most drug stores that do photo processing will do ID photo type things……….Um, can I ask why?”

“Well, it’s that thing, you know, that says ‘affix a recent photo’.”

*I have no fucking clue what on earth “that thing” could possibly be*

“Can you be a little more specific, because I really have no idea what “that thing” could be.”  (Because as much as she thinks I can – I CAN’T READ A PIECE OF PAPER FROM 2,000 MILES AWAY!!)

“I DON’T REMEMBER!”

*Oh hells bells, my tone has been nothing beyond flat to curious**, neither of which should warrant screaming hostility.  Time to scramble for something to say that won’t get me in more trouble…*

“Well Grandma, I just can’t think of anything besides a passport that would need a recent photo.  Are you planning on flying to Tokyo next week??”

This actually got a good laugh (rare and I relish it when it happens – I really do try to make her laugh.  It usually backfires, but I try.) and an answer that no, no plans to travel to Asia.  I still couldn’t get any more details from her as to what piece of paper she may have found on her desk that asked for a photo – for all I know, it could have been the Extended Studies department of ASU offering her audit privileges, but I suspect not.  I just told her that she had her state ID, which didn’t expire, and I really could not truly imagine anything that would require a “recent photo” at all.***

“Well, no.  It just said, “Attach a recent photo.”

I just told her to not worry on it since I couldn’t think of any piece of paper that required a picture at this point at her age and stage.

But my eye is twitching because I don’t have an answer.  And as much as it pisses me off when I don’t have an answer, it pisses her off that much more.

Hence, the twitching of my left eye.

If she calls tomorrow about it, little bro has instructions to tell her, “Set the piece of paper aside until Monday when Sharyn pops in and can double check it.” (Tomorrow is my day off.)

**Which is really hard to keep my tone in check if I’m not paying attention, so I am REALLY aware of my tone so I don’t come off as a complete bitch on wheels.  Even if I am entitled to be one.
***I thought later maybe, possibly, but highly unlikely – her Rec Center card.  But it’s Sun City and really, is there that much Gray & Wrinkly difference from one year to the next in Sun City?  (NOT being mean.  Just an observation of GenPop there.)  And they usually just send a new expiration date sticker w/no questions asked once you pay the dues in the spring.  And I double checked the AZ website to check that the DNR requirements hadn’t changed – unchanged since 2006.

That a full bottle of wine dropped on a hard surface will make a very different noise than an empty bottle dropped on the same surface?

It’s more of a *thunk* than a *crash* but what it lacks in auditory flair, it more than makes up for with the visual of bits of green bottle everywhere surrounded by  red wine.

Bonus when it happens in the checkout line at the market.

But then again, “Sorry the world is so fucked up that we have to have Veterans” day is a bit of a mouthful.

Thank you for all you do.

And sorry about the mattress sales.  So damn undignified.

Not sure it warranted crawls on the news channels of “Waiting On Confirmation Of Execution” but some news director decided it did.

Granted, when all this DC Sniper bullshit went down in 2002, I would have gladly taken this jackass out on my own with a baseball bat for no other reason than all the psychosis he caused.  It really screwed up my day to day activities.  However, the beauty of being an American is that you get due process and all that happy horseshit.*  Mind you, I have no problems with due process, but in some cases, it does become nothing more than happy horseshit.

But time eases things, and to be perfectly honest – I wouldn’t care if he was offed by the state or simply spent the rest of his natural life rotting in a cell.  I can’t say that I am pro or anti death penalty.  I can’t honestly say that I think it is a deterrent, but I do believe there are some crimes so heinous that there should be absolutely no chance on God’s green earth that your sorry ass will ever see the light of day again – and the death penalty does accomplish that.  As does life without parole, but that doesn’t always make me feel any better.

Earlier tonight, CNN was doing a “Timeline of Terror” in response to Muhammad’s execution.  (I shit you not, that was the title they were using for the segment.  Stay classy, CNN.)

Maybe I didn’t take it seriously enough at the time, but I recall the entire situation as being insanely annoying more than anything.  While I do remember unconsciously zigzagging across parking lots on occasion, I still went to the market, the craft store, and dammit, I pumped my own gas.  It screwed up the performance at the Fredericksburg Chili Cook Off/County Fair of my then boyfriend’s college buddy, as the local police told the radio station to stop advertising the event.  (We went.  Nothing happened.)  However, in the next few days after that, there was a shooting there, and looking back at some journal entries, I did note it, and the fact that it was somewhat unnerving.  More than anything, I had the question that everyone had – WHY??

However, not unnerving enough to make me change my ways.  I remember telling my Mom, “I am not going to change a damn thing because of this jackass – if it’s random, it’s random.  If it’s not, then I’ll be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that’s not something you can predict or change.”  And damned if Mom didn’t say, “That’s how you do it.”

And when the “Why?” came out, I was more pissed off than ever.  Getting back at an ex-wife?  That’s IT?  Christ On A Cracker, way to go overboard, jackass.

I’m not really sure if I feel better knowing that he is dead.  But it sure doesn’t bother me that he isn’t among the living anymore.

I’d like to think we won’t have such trials and death sentences ahead of us for such absolute douchbaggery…but there’s a jerk in the hospital in Texas, and we’re all waiting to hear the same thing – WHY?

*A spectacular phrase that my Mom left to me.

So, the kittens are big enough they can be out and about in the house for a while each day.  Moxley feels the need to supervise their activities.  This results in a fair amount of barking.  Not barking *at* the cats, but *about* the cats.

In short, Moxley is a big tattletale.

It goes something like this…

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

“The kittens are fighting!”

“They’re running in the house!”

“They’re standing near the bicycle!”

“Lily’s in my spot on the couch!”  (Though he did attempt to take care of this himself by jumping on the couch and sitting on her.  Lily was unfazed.)

“Carmen is laying by the front door!”

“Lily is on my chair!”  (Followed by his jumping on the chair and Lily headbutting him.)

“Lily’s touching me!”

“Carmen went under the shelf by the door and I can’t see her now!”

The kittens have gone back upstairs for lunch and a nap.  The dog is utterly exhausted.

My heart goes out to everyone at Fort Hood.  What a horrific thing to have happen.

As things have shaken out, it appears that the 3 particpants were only one, and he is not dead after all.

I find this to be a good thing so we might have some chance in hell at getting some answers as to why someone would choose to this, be it no more complicated than, “There is no way in hell you’re sending me to Iraq.”

Just a terrible day.

The advantage of voting in the middle of the day is no lines.  The downside is no bake sales, either.

Virginia is back to paper ballots, and I can’t say that I mind.  As much as electronic voting is cool and easy and I’d love someday to be able to vote from home, there is still something nice about having a piece of paper to back up my vote.

I’ll be interested to see what the statewide turnout is – I would think it would be fairly decent as we are electing a governor, but who knows.  The Democrats seem to have lost a lot of momentum with getting out the youth and minority vote, so I suspect that it will be down quite a bit from last year.  If the plethora of yard signs is any indicator, our district will again have a good turnout.  (We tend to have a high turnout every year anyway.)

One thing that has perplexed me a bit is that I keep hearing that these elections are a “referendum on Obama” – which I hope they are not, since it seems a touch shortsighted to me.  Call me crazy, but I tend to vote for candidates that will best represent me, regardless of who is sitting in the Oval Office.  Then again, I could just be talking out my ass, cause I’ll admit I don’t understand political strategy for crap.