| | So I wasted valuable resources at the Evil Empire to stream CNN.com's coverage of the Michael Jackson sendoff, and yeah, I cried at certain points. I also had to snicker a wee bit, like when Brooke Shields shouted out to Prince, Paris and...Blanket. And when Usher was serenading the box. I have thoughts about the whole shebang, but for now, I'm just going to download a fuckton of Michael Jackson songs off iTunes. | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment   |
| From Neil Gaiman:
When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." and we lie: "I'll never leave you." For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad.
(from Hellraiser #27, "Hold Me". Collected in DC Comics' Neil Gaiman's Midnight Days collection) | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | The Netflix instant viewer player thing is quite handy, I have discovered. I'm on a wireless network and it streamed very nicely without ever cutting out, and I just tried the Crunch Candlelight Yoga show. I was surprised at how well I managed, considering I have shunned the gym for a while now thanks to trying to get my head in order. The host woman person had an excellently soothing voice and I knew I'd like her when she said right out of the box, "there is more to health than being thin". Her name is Sarah Ivanhoe - very mellow pipes has she. I thought I was fairly flexible - WOW NOT QUITE. Though it depended on the pose. But I give it thumbs up and will be doing it again. I will do tree pose with my foot up near my junk, dammit! | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Back from Vegas. Lost my ass, of course. Ironic that on the day of my birth, I couldn't lose harder at anything I tried. I mean, I'd win here and there each day, but certainly not enough to make up for the twenties I was slapping into various slot machines. The MGM Grand's a nice place to stay. My room was very comfortable, I had something of a view:
and had a delightful, if slightly awkward birthday dinner Wednesday at Emeril's fish joint on the Studio Walk at MGM. On Tuesday afternoon, I smoked up to the podium to make a reservation for the following evening, and I simply couldn't stop myself from admitting it was my birthday when the host asked me if I was dining because of business, a birthday, etc. I walked away kicking my own ass, but didn't think it'd be much of a deal. After all, it's a semi high-class joint - you're not going to be assailed by scads of waiters clapping their hands as they approach your table, doing that goddamned "happy happy birthday!!!!" song like they do at, like, TGIFriday's.
No...they do it in a classier way. Oh no, there was no singing, but there was something of a fuss made. First off, you know a joint's classy when the host puts the napkin on your lap for you. So I was sitting and perusing the menu, and my very cute waiter boy Sean comes trotting out with a little plate. On it was a crostini with some shaved braised short rib on it, drizzled in some sort of citrus sauce, and he told me it was compliments of the chef as he was pleased I was celebrating my birthday at Emeril's. Well hey, free shit, I'm not going to bitch. So I have my lobster bisque (YUM) and my mahi-mahi (YUUUUUUUUUUM) and this dude in a nice suit comes up to me and starts gabbing away. Asks me where I'm from, I say "Chicago", and he says "OH, then you'll never forget my name"--he gives me his business card. He's the general manager of the restaurant and his last name is Tuohy (there's a street here called Touhy). And we "ohhh!" and all that happy-slappy stuff and he's all "happy birthday" and I'm all "I'm going to go stick my head in an oven, can I borrow one of yours" and some waitress comes up to me (one that isn't serving me, mind you) to tell me "happy birthday" as well. By this point, I'm getting sketchy because while I'm great in a group, on a solo mish I tend to struggle with small talk with strangers, so I ask Sean to bring me the check when he gets the chance, turning down the dessert menu. Well, he comes trotting back, holding the bill thingy at an odd angle - that's because he was hiding a scoop of raspberry sorbet with a lit candle in it behind the bill thingy.
So...yeah. That was my birthday dinner. Great food and great service at that there Emeril's at MGM, even if there were moments where I just wanted to hide underneath my table until people forgot I was there and that I was turning 37. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| As you know, I live with my two elderly parents - my mother is 71 and my dad is 77. Mom is in generally good health, still works, and enjoys a cocktail or 90. Dad has mobility issues thanks to peripheral neuropathy, COPD, and spits out non-sequiturs at wildly inopportune times. I've had to witness some fairly icky things as a result of living here, but I think I'm going to be shaking off today's adventure for a goodly time to come.
(Cut for the delicate flowers, TMI, and just...foul foulness of foultown.) ( Read more... ) | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| ...I broke my fucking glasses this morning. Snapped right in the bit that goes across my nose. Thank Christ I found a spare pair I didn't think I still owned a couple of weeks ago, even though they make me look about 900 years old (instead of my usual 300-400 years old). I wouldn't give that much of a damn if I had the cash to trot over to LensCrafters to get a new pair before I fly out Monday morning at the crack. So now my poor glasses are sitting on a paper plate, a fuckton of superglue where the snap is, and I'm hoping some sort of physics miracle will occur where they'll be solid enough to make it through until I get my tax refund and can go get a new pair (which I'd been planning to do anyway, but I was definitely unpleased to have it ratcheted up to the top spot on the to-do list). If they feel solid enough, I'll wear them but carry the spare pair everywhere with me. Luckily, the prescription difference isn't that bad, so my head doesn't feel like it's caving in on itself, but it's certainly noticeable.
But screw it. I'm on VACATION, I can see well enough, and I'm on VACATIONNNNNNNNNNNNNN. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| | I saw a wee bit of the Neighborhood Ball where President Obama (hee hee hee yay) and the First Lady did their first dance to Beyonce covering "At Last" (she did a very nice job), and was amused by many things in a short span of time, whether it was the President doing a hip bump with someone dancing on stage around him during "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" or Sting's beard. It's like a really, really long wedding reception, the Inauguration day. All that's needed is the Chicken Dance to make it complete in my head. What made my head go slightly tilty was the announcer saying Jay Z would be coming up after the break, and I had to explain to my mom why I was giggling - "Mom, one of his biggest tunes features the lyric, 'I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one'. I don't think he'll be trotting that one out." (Instead, he did "History") | | comments: Leave a comment |
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