MANday Monday ~ Walking drop Dead gorgeous

Let me take care of those zombies for you.



I am a latecomer to The Walking Dead series, mainly because we are cheap cable people. But after being assigned to guard a table for two of the stars at Emerald City Comicon last year, I decided it was important that I obsess about take a look at it.

 

 



Jon Bernthal is the guy I met at ECCC and while supercute & very nice, I became more smitten with the charming & chivalrous Sheriff Rick in the show.

I watched an entire season before realizing Andrew Lincoln is a) British and b) the darling dude in love with his best friend's girl in the irresistibly treacly quintessential chick flick Love Actually.

Adorable, actually

Then I had to dig out my DVD to watch it again. And again. And...my 1st husband has grown weary.

As far as I can tell, Mr. Lincoln's only fault is having a ridiculously whiny onscreen wife, which was [SPOILER ALERT] remedied this season.

So now, no more debates. Happy Monday, America.


thankful: roots

A rerun for Thanksgiving

My first family - the one with my mom & dad & sister - doesn't read my blog much ever, which is fine. Sometimes the voice I use and the things I say are not likely part of their vision of me; I know I still feel mildly shocked when my baby sister talks about drinking (she's in her 30s) and I certainly get edgy if my parents remotely reference the fact that they do it. So it's cool that we have some separateness.

But I still need to acknowledge how grateful I am for their presence in my world, even if that presence is 6 hours of driving (and no simple plane or train ride) away. And that I miss them when we go long stretches without visits.

My favorite things to think about from my original family life:

• the way my mom can smell a bargain from 80 miles away and will not only seek it out for herself but also for friends & relatives (or friends & relatives of friends & relatives) who might be interested
• the way my dad keeps himself from telling me to shut up during the game when I have some piece of trivia about a football player, and that he still always wants to watch with me anyway
• the way my sister rolls her eyes if I start bantering with a store clerk I've never met, and the way she threatens to leave me behind if I don't stop talking TO A STRANGER (but she never does leave)
• our house on Whidbey Island, which is in the same spot and contains the same odd, short, makes-you-trip-when-you-run-on-it staircase as when it was built more than three decades ago, even though the entire downstairs is completely remodeled, and smells like dryer sheets & good food & my mom's hard work
• our garage, which houses dozens of boxes of my extremely embarrassing notes from junior high and Fisher-Price Little People (the ones that would spontaneously choke unsuspecting American children today), and smells like gasoline & oil & my dad's patience with me
• our driveway, which used to lead to my grandparents' house across the way (I could run there in 14 seconds; I timed myself once when the big light in the center was out and I had to get something from my grandma after dark)
• the cozy warmth when we light the wood stove then pull out old blankets and sit together, in front of the TV with ice cream

Young Bad Mom with the Good Dad who took her on all the scary rollercoasters

My beautiful baby sister, my beautiful mom, and me

Manday, much better than Monday

Just like I'm trying to make peace with Sundays, I hope that by henceforth calling Monday 'Manday,' the beginning of the work week will be much improved.
[Mad props here to Mrs. G's glorious Mancake/Bigger Love feature at Derfward Manor]

 

First entry, the smartastic NPR hottie who moonlights as a crooner with Pink Martini and is surely honored to be my newest Potential 2nd Husband : Ari Shapiro

 

He's very serious[ly sexy]
NPR photo

Be still my heart
photo by Walter Grio 2011

 

 

Bonding at Live Wire!
photo by adoring & infinitely patient 1st husband

 

Swoon.
I kind of want to start Monday/Manday all over again.

sunday night insight

I don't want to hate Sundays. They start with such grace, a 'day of rest' full of nothing but lovely relaxing air (except during football season when I have a tension headache until the Cowboys are done playing but that's not Sunday's fault, really).

But toward dusk they begin to change, like terrifying harpies, into mean-spirited soul-destroying entities. After having seduced me with a languorously carefree pace, they begin to devour my minutes with a depraved glee until I weep with anguish, having accomplished nothing of so-called merit. I start drinking large glasses of wine at 4 p.m. then retire to bed early, certain that Monday will bring only darkness & despair.

Perhaps I exaggerate a touch.

I would like to a) stop hating the last hours of the weekend and b) return to writing on my blog and subsequently de-stressing about ultimately unimportant or nonexistent issues. So I'm trying Sunday Night Insight, wherein I consider what I've done/eaten/thought/seen over the weekend that feels meaningful in my life so that I can begin the week looking forward instead of down at my feet, pitifully.

***
Yesterday, I remembered in the nick of time that I was a Board member (oh, and Secretary) of a local theatre group, and we had a 10 a.m. meeting. Got there on time, gave reasonably intelligent input, put together some kickass passable notes, drank lots of coffee to keep up with young thespians, had lunch & some deep conversations.

Then I napped.

But THEN I got into my boots and hit the town to become best friends with see and talk awkwardly with Carrie Brownstein & Ari Shapiro at the Live Wire! Radio taping. It was deliciously fun listening to them during interviews plus OMG Ari sang while Thomas Lauderdale played piano. There could have been sobbing but I had stopped drinking just in time to keep my cool.

Today, the dreaded Sunday, I watched my Cowboys play awfully/play better/almost lose/WIN while my family wandered in & out of the living room, commiserating & cheering as appropriate. Afterward we all ate leftover Chinese leftovers and watched the DVRed Survivor from last week. Now we're reading & writing & editing videos & doing laundry & performing home improvements as Christmas music plays on the radio.

Next, I'm taking myself for a leisurely wander through Trader Joe's to get everything I need for Thanksgiving without having to fight rushed & crabby shoppers.

The insight here [FINALLY; thank you for sticking with me/no hate mail] is that I did wonderfully fun things as well as accomplished some things, and that is good enough for a couple of days.

 

I can sleep in peace tonight.

 

Tomorrow I'll start working on hating Mondays less.