Monday, February 28, 2011

Oscar Fashion Post

Since I don't own a television, I didn't witness any of this live. I have only the gossip blog photos to wade through. The reason I didn't get to witness it on TV is because no one I know, and no bar I frequent, hosted an Oscar party. Sacrilege!!!!

Certainly, I know enough gay men that at least one of them should have hosted a party. It is also the job of every gay bar on the planet to host what has come to be known as "The Gay Super Bowl". But enough about that, lets get on to my best, worst and "What were you thinking!" of Oscar fashion.

Jennifer Hudson - Best of the Best

Now this girl can sing. I loved her in Dream Girls. Apparently Weight Watchers does a body good! Being their spokesperson certainly doesn't hurt either. She gets my vote for best dressed and also greatest transformation. It's the perfect color on her and I'm so glad it wasn't the typical gold, red or black that most women wear to the event.

Cate Blanchett - Worst of the Worst

I love her as an actress. She is gorgeous. I just don't understand why she always wears such horrible gowns. I took one look at this and all I saw was a piece of vintage furniture. I also kept waiting for some video to displayed across her chest. 

Sharon Stone - What Were You Thinking!

It's the Bride of Oscarstein! All we need is a bottle of Jack in her hand and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and I think we'd have a more complete picture of what inspired this look. She's no longer a spring chicken, and I applaud the fact that she can still pull herself together enough to head to the grocery store, but how does one look in the mirror and think this looks good one themselves?

Halle Berry - A Not So Honorable Mention

I loved this dress, not to mention the fact that she wears it so well. I loved it until I saw the back.

Now I've heard of blowing smoke up someones ass, but blowing smoke out of your ass??? Was there never a mirror behind her? Never an able bodied assistant to say, "Hey Halle, your butt is smokin…and not in the good way"?

I don't blame the stars. I blame the designers. If JenHud can look that good, then there is no reason for anyone to look bad. I don't know if they have this fashion forced on them by high paying designers, or if they simply never ask a friend, "How do I look"? 

Either way I feel I have every right, as I sit here in my Walmart jeans and t-shirt, to judge the heck out of them!

Friday, February 25, 2011

The Most Beautiful Lantern EVER!

Ok, it's a well known fact that I have a bit of a Lantern Fetish. It all started with a blank wall…doesn't it always? I found a stained glass lantern to hang on it. The poor thing looked so lonely hanging there all by itself. So I bought more lanterns to flank it.Now I have a rather huge collection of lanterns hanging about. You'll see them as I post pictures of the house.

Today I was at Pier One to shop their clearance sections. They have great clearance sections! I found a little square lantern in there for 2 bucks. As I turned around to head to the cash register I gasped, my breath quite literally taken away. What sat in front of me was the most beautiful stained glass lantern I had ever seen. I glanced at the price tag, not that it matters, I would have bought this lantern even if it was $100. It was the only one they had and an item like this is never going to make it to the clearance shelf before someone snatches it up. So snatch I did, and now it gracing the center of my dining room table.

Purdy huh? I can't wait to get a candle into it and see how it looks at night. I think in order to get the full effect of the colors I am going to need to find a frosted glass sheath for the candle to brighten it up a bit. I am toying with the idea of electrifying it. This one has a substantial enough base to do it with. So if anyone out there has added an electrical element to a lantern before, get with me. I don't want to screw this up!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Back to Happy Thoughts

Ok, ok, that last post was kind of downer…so on to happier posts. I was struck today, not by a car on an icy road, but by the beauty around me. There was a fresh coating of bright white snow on the ground when I woke up this morning. I am no fan of the hazards that snow and ice present, not to mention the fact that it has to be darn cold in order for it to happen. It is beautiful tho. Snow has a way of making everything look so clean. I can no longer see the ratty muddy yard or be reminded that my car has never enjoyed the benefit of a proper washing. All I see is white...crisp, clean white.

I worked from  home today because I didn't feel like braving the mountain roads to get to work. In addition to work, I got a lot of things done around the house and got caught up on my TV. On one of my many trips to and from the bedroom for various reasons I found myself enraptured by this sight.

Spring! Im my house! Honest to goodness proof that warmer weather isn't far away. I have The Hubby to thank for this. Heck, I can't even grow mold. It is entirely his Green Thumb that provides me with sights like this. Prior to his addition to my life, there were no plants in the house. I mean, Mint is a weed, and I couldn't even grow that!

So, today I am thankful. I am thankful for the beautiful snow. I am thankful that Spring is on it's way. I am thankful that flowers now grow in my house. But most of all…I am thankful that The Hubby is here to bring such beauty into my life. Our life.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Cup of Bitterness...

...can be bottomless.

Tod and I had a bit of an interesting conversation about bitterness tonight. I'm not talking about the bitterness you encounter upon biting into a lemon. I am talking about the bitterness that occurs in ones soul when wronged or otherwise put upon by another human being. It's much more sour.

Tod's bitterness stems from a recent exclusion...I'll leave it at that. He can get his own blog or leave a comment if he'd like. The bitterness I carry, and granted it's not some huge stone weighing me down, cuts much deeper.

I harbor bitterness for 2 people in my life and 2 people only. One, an ex-coworker whom I proved time and time again to be a huge liar. [Note: one thing I do not tolerate are liars.] She also had a penchant for wearing brightly colored "F*ck Me Pumps" in business situations where they were totally inappropriate. That's another thing I can't stand. During her short tenure with our company I caught this girl, let's call her "Christina"(cause that's her name and I don't care who knows it or if people who know her read this and foolishly don't know what a horrible liar she is), in a minimum of 12 lies. Bad lies, not even lies she could cover up. Lies that usually were so stupid there wasn't even any reason to lie. My coworkers often brushed it off as "Oh that's just silly Christina". I'm sorry, but anyone who feels the need to lie that much, can't be trusted in business or in personal dealings and to this day I harbor the bitterness towards her that can only be explained as utter detestation.

The other, Tod and I lovingly refer to as BSC. That stands for Bat Shit Crazy. Without going into an enormous amount of detail, this was a person whom we'd both had dealings with in the past and I can't imagine won't turn up like a bad penny in the future. He was welcomed, once again, into our circle of friends after making it very clear that he longed to be included. Then one day he Florida...without so much as a word to any of us. For me, that stings and it's a sting not soon forgotten. It irks me that someone who wanted so much to be included in  a circle of friends he could enjoy and depend on when needed, would vanish without so much as a word to any of them. I'm sure he thinks he has his reasons, but none of those reasons will ever satisfy the disdain I feel for him to this day in the dark recesses of the empty pit I once called a soul. Which by the way, according to Tod, is now locked in a steel box secured with iron bands and guarded by a fire-breathing dragon at the bottom of a volcano.

Some might say, "Oh let it go already!". But no, I won't. I will harbor this bitterness until the day they have to pry it out of my cold dead hands. "Why?", you ask? Because bitterness is power. When I have difficult situations to deal with, I can dip into this wellspring of bitterness to find the courage, strength, and the perfect sniping comment to see me through it. This ocean of bitterness can be parted like The Red Sea and then brought crashing down upon my enemies "Moses" style. I can count on this bitterness. I know it is something that will always be there when I need it for whatever purpose I call it into action.

Where bitterness is cup runneth over.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


...Is a Filled Ice Bucket

Lots of people ask me, "How can you travel so much and still enjoy it?" Sure, being in new cities is fun. There are different eating establishments. There are aways new sights to see. But for me, it's the little things.

Things like:

- Maid service - There is nothing like coming back to my hotel room after a long day at work to kind it immaculately cleaned. Even better? I didn't have to do the cleaning. I want a maid at home!!!

- Toiletries - They are always full. I never have to worry that I'm going to runout of lotion when I am on the road.

- TV - I don't have one at home, everything I watch is either streamed from the internet or downloaded and watched on my computer. When I'm on the road, it's live! I don't have to wait a day to discuss my TV viewing with Tod. Of course, I also have to deal with commercials if it's live, so it is a double edged sword.

- Turn down service - Separate from the maid service, I can't tell how much it's the little things. A chocolate on the pillow, the sheets folded back or as is the case at this hotel...A FULL ICE BUCKET! Not having to roam the hallways for ice to put in my cocktail is one of the greatest pleasures of my job. Lots of people don't like being near the ice machine because of the noise. I ask when I check in to most hotels if I can have a room near the ice machine! Here at The Omni in Indianapolis the turn down service fills it for me so it's the best of both worlds. No ice machine noise, but always fresh ice.

Thank heavens for the maid!

Monday, February 14, 2011


…I just hate work.

I know I've talked a lot about how much I love my job. The travel, the people, the travel, and the travel, it makes it all worthwhile. Some days tho, I just hate my job.

Take today for instance. I am flying out to Indianapolis to work a convention. Of course, a convention a coworker is working on in Las Vegas right now for the same client chose today to explode. This puts me in the hot seat, and I really don't enjoy being there. The event I'm heading to now has to go flawlessly or chances are we will lose the client.

I am accustomed to pressure in my job, but I really don't enjoy this kind of pressure. Pressure created by my own mistakes, sure I can take that. Pressure created by someone else's, not so much. So now I have about 17 IT guys looking over my shoulder, not to mention the CEO of the company looking over us all to make sure everything goes ok.

It will, I haven't been doing this for 11 years now without learning a few things. I mean it's not brain surgery. No one ever died from having to wait for a convention badge to print.

Sometimes I think we just take ourselves WAYYYYY too seriously.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

When You Start To Get What You Want...

…What Do You Do With It?

It's been a rocky week. Taking work out of the picture, home life has been a roller coaster too. It started with last weekend in the ER after The Hubby's seizure. Perhaps I should provide a little background here. Two things that have irked me to no end are The Hubby's Familial Tremor and his kicking in his sleep. The tremor worries me because of knives and scissors and glass and all the things it could wind up helping him hurt himself with. The kicking in the sleep, well that's probably more obvious. He's oblivious to it and it pretty much insures that I don't get any kind of sleep.

Of course, the seizures bother me too. I've only witnessed one of them and that was certainly enough. There is no greater feeling of helplessness a person can feel than watching the person you love and cherish writhe uncontrollably on the floor fighting for every breath they're attempting to take.

All of these factors over the past 2 years have led to a certain distance in our relationship. A distance, both of us are probably becoming far too comfortable with. I was accepting more travel with work in hopes of not being home to witness an accident or another seizure. We also were sleeping in separate rooms in order for both of us to get a full nights sleep.

This week The Hubby went to a new neurologist, since his previous doctor had left the practice he was working at without any notification. The new guy prescribed what I have come to call "The Miracle Pill". The Hubby takes it in addition to his regular anti-seizure meds and it helps prevent what is called a "Breakthrough Seizure". This is a seizure that can occur even tho you are on meds to prevent one. This new drug also quiets his tremor and stops his night kicking. If it could silence his snoring, we'd be 3 for 3!

After 3 years I finally have what I want. I have a man who doesn't kick me in his sleep. I have a man who can handle a knife without me worrying about severed fingers and a man who most likely won't be having a seizure anytime soon.

These are all good things, wonderful things in fact. So why am I not ecstatic? I'm not exactly sure. I think a part of it was because all of those issues gave me some really great excuses. I could justify my care of him, and a lot of the decisions made because he was in no "condition" to take care of or make those decisions for himself. I could justify the lack of intimacy in our relationship by the fact that we were sleeping in different rooms. I could convince myself that my not being home often was a good thing and that we were better off because of it.

So I don't know, is The Miracle Pill really a miracle? Or has it opened up an entirely new can of worms???

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Disloyalty Rewarded

Something has gotten on my nerves at work over the past few months. To provide you a little background, I work in a job that requires quite a bit of travel. Most folks who take the job are right out of college and they love it, for about 2 years. After that they begin to realize what an incredible drain being on the road all the time can be on ones life. It's tough to maintain friendships when you're never home. Try keeping a significant other happy when you only see them a 3rd of the year. That being said, I have been doing this job for almost 11 years. I love it, it's hard, but I love it. You can ask my friends, The Hubby, or my family…they've never seen me happier than when I'm enjoying my job. Of course you can also ask them how much they hate me being gone so much.

You miss out on things. I didn't see my newborn niece till after she was a year old. I missed being home for my 40th birthday. That's something my mother will never let me forget. Apparently they had all planned something rather large for it. Tod will probably never let me live down that it was my jobs fault we couldn't all go on a cruise for he and Scott's 50th Birthday. But you do what you gotta do when you love your job. It's far too easy to hate your job and I know a lot of people who do.

Anyway that isn't exactly what this post is about. Our department is pretty strapped in terms of staffing at work. Many times we wind up traveling with people who usually don't travel and it's a pain because they don't know how the "onsite" world works.

So, when someone decides they have had enough and decide to leave their job it's very easy to understand why they would want to look for other employment. What has me ticked off about it is invariably lots of these folks wind up coming back. They get out into the "Real" world of 9 to 5 employment and find it isn't all it's cracked up to be. Of course, they are welcomed back with open arms and sometimes a pay increase to help them stay put.

In other cases, one came up just this week, a fellow employee tenders their resignation and then suddenly are offered more money to stay. He hasn't accepted the offer yet, but I'm pretty sure he will. Taking the other job would increase his commute by about an hour.

I understand from a business perspective that it's a good idea for management to work to keep the experienced people they have. What gets me is that they are rewarding the wrong people. They are greasing the palms of the rats that are ready to jump ship. With the economy the way it's been few people at work have seen raises in over 2 years. For management to throw money at someone ready to leave rather then to the loyal folks who have spent years serving the company leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Makes me wonder if I should walk into my managers office, drop off my letter of resignation and see what happens. I know it's certainly going to be a topic I bring up during my performance review.

Monday, February 7, 2011


Oy, what a weekend! The Hubby wound up in the Emergency Room Friday. If you've never had the pleasure of a trip to the ER yourself or with someone else, you are truly missing out on one of life's great pleasures. Yes, I jest.

I can't think of anything worse. Really, nothing worse on this earth. Well, I suppose the raining fire of armageddon could be worse, but it would be a close race. First, you wait. You wait a long time. I mean, unless you are actively having a heart attack or bleeding profusely from your severed appendage, you wait. I understand the concept of triage, I just don't think they have quite perfected it yet. We waited for 3 hours before The Hubby was taken back to his ER Bay.

While we waited, I do have to say we were entertained. A gentleman who was being detained in the ER by law enforcement officials attempted an escape. He tried to walk right out the front door in his gown and bare feet into freezing cold weather. They managed to catch him before he made it out of the parking lot. I guess whatever it was he was being detained for was far worse than risking frostbite or ridicule from wearing clothing with no back in it.

Once we were seen by a doctor, with the last name of a fish-eyed character from The Return of the Jedi (hint: "It's a trap!), things moved no faster. Tests were ordered and I had time to leave, go home, pick up the pup, take her for a long walk,  feed her, see that she was settled in her crate, and still get back to the hospital before the testing was complete.

I had time to go eat dinner while The Hubby was having his CAT Scan. People seem to always want to complain about hospital food, but the food was amazing. It was like a college food court. The was a grill station, a salad station, a huge selection of fresh-made deli sandwiches, desserts, you name it. I am thinking about going by sometime for dinner without the ER visit.

I interrupt this post for something more important.

I just received a call from someone I would consider a dear friend. She now lives in Las Vegas (My least favorite place on earth) with her husband. She called to tell me she had been diagnosed today with blood clots. She called not only to inform me, but because she was totally freaking out about it, and knew that I myself had gone through the exact same thing a little over a year ago.

She, like me, had been told by every medical professional that it's the "Kiss of Death". "If the blood clots don't kill you the treatment of them will!" Once I had calmed her down and also assured her that one day she probably will have children despite what she'd been told by the doctors, it reminded me way too much of my own experience and of how much respect I have lost for the medical profession on a whole.

I am disheartened that today's doctors think it is more important to scare the living crap out of you making sure you are aware of the worst case scenario in order to make sure they aren't sued for something. I mean, you should never tell a healthy 25 year old woman that she will never have children unless you know 180% that she will never have children. That's just mean.

Our medical system has become mean. Drug companies have begun to use scare tactics to sell pills, insurance companies sit back and "judge" who has the right to medical care, and unfortunately it all filters downhill eventually to the doctors and nurses directly responsible for our care.

I now return you to my regular posting, already in progress...

Back to the ER Bay I went to find The Hubby back from his CAT Scan. At this point we were just waiting for the results from all the tests. This would turn out to be another two and half hours. During which time Peter was wheeled into the ER. Peter, whom everyone seemed to know, was a drunk. I would equal him to Andy Griffith's Otis. He had been here many times in this inebriated state. While the one nurse was updating his records, she said, "I have everything here but his date of birth." Mary Jo, one of the other nurses turned to her and said, "The date the devil was spawned, that is his date of birth!" Suddenly I was watching an episode of Nurse Jackie.

Another drunk was rolled in about 20 minutes later. Turns out he and Peter knew each other. What commenced was a circus of them trying to talk loudly and drunkenly to one another. Then they tried to visit one another's Bays. All of this was met by the security guards, the police and the poor nurses with much resistance. I sat there watching the farce, sipping on the "To Go" cocktail I had smuggled in with me in my sports drink bottle wondering the entire time if I wasn't secretly sneaking a peek into my own future.

The "Fast Talking Return of the Jedi" doctor returned with the results of the tests and declared that they couldn't do anything for The Hubby. He needed to find a specialist and the best they could offer were some drugs to combat his nausea.

I wish I could say that it was 7 hours well spent, but I can't. The entire time in the Bay all I wanted to do was press this well displayed button.

I really just wanted to see what would happen. There is a part of me tho, that is sure nothing would have.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Ads…What Do You Think?

So, I have been considering adding ads to my blog. I figure as long as I'm out here doing this, why not try to make a little money at it?

I mean, we run into advertising everywhere. Why not have it here? If you don't want to click on it you don't have to. Of course, I would love if you clicked on them :-)

For me, it's a matter of style. If I do try the ads and I don't like how it makes the blog look, I will probably discontinue them.

What I am interested in regarding this is the opinion of my fellow bloggers. Those of you who view this blog, who are also bloggers, what do you do? Do have ads? If not why? Let me know your opinions in the comments…and thanks!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

A Gift…Not Re-Giftable

Moral dilemma! So I turn to those of you who have some, since as I've already discussed, I have only one.

At the same birthday celebration I mentioned in my previous post I was given a gift. I was given a gift that is something I would never, in my right mind, have purchased for myself. I was given a gift by someone notorious for giving horrible gifts. I was given a gift that I really want to throw in the trash, but can't bring myself too.

So how do you handle that? I mean, I know that you write the Thank You note and try to move on. That much I got. But beyond that, what do you do?

-   Do you trash it?
-   Do you throw it in a drawer only to remove it when the gifter might be in the room?
-   Do you display it somewhere out of the way?
-   Do you pawn it off on someone who might actually enjoy it?
-   Do you sell it at a Yard Sale?
-   Do you take it to Goodwill?
-   Do you say anything to the gifter in hopes that they might get the hint and not buy
      you such horrible gifts anymore?

This particular woman…let's call her Giftzilla, has a horrible eye for gifts. My mother, more so than me, has been the unfortunate recipient of most of this woman's lack of taste. Now Giftzilla has me in her clutches. I currently have a shelf devoted to the hideous gifts this woman has come up with and forced upon me. It's a shrine to Giftzilla. I mean, Giftzilla has been to my house many times. She can see first hand the types of things I like. I don't understand how she can look at some of these things and think, "OMG, JimNotMike will LOVE that!"

I love getting presents, anyone I know can tell you that. So I try to revel in the fact that it is a present and forget that it's a horrible ceramic trivet with french wine bottles on it. I try to forget that it's a wooden wine bottle/pepper grinder with "Jim's Vineyard" wood burned into the label. I try to forget that it is a hideously painted "40th Birthday" martini glass. I try to just enjoy the fact that I am getting a present and she thought enough to pick it out for me.

But I can't do it. I look at The Shrine to Giftzilla, and all I see is crap. Crap that I don't want in my home. Crap that I don't want other people to see in my home. Crap that I certainly don't EVER want people to think I would purchase for myself. Crap, Crap, Crap!

So, fellow readers, what do you do with "The Crap"?