A Madcap Diatribal Continuation...

of yesterday's post, using a meme/rant, borrowing from Whirl's hoot of a meme on his post. AND an idea (Sylvia's great idea, not mine) about a thing we can do next week.

(Yeah, I've finished my novel, and my brain is flailing around in there, trying to work up ways not to start cleaning out closets and starting on the yard, not to mention the freakout that comes when you're 'done' with your novel and you're thinking about how, who and if it's ever gonna be true that someone is gonna help you get your work out into the world. That's all. Just that. No biggie. Just life and death matters.)
All righty then...

PRE-RANT ---- Sylvia's idea for next week:

Everyone please send me a picture of themelves from back in the day (no 3 day old infant pics, please, or anything under a year or so) that you don't think people will recognize. (It DOES need to be an actual picture of you, however.) Then, on Thursday of next week, I'll pop the pictures on here, labelled A thru ?. Whoever is the first (in the comments section of that post) to guess the most correct answers, will win a copy of whichever book they want from EE's Book Chat list.

EE and ril, this means you, too, if you'll please play.

On to the meme rant:

1. Just because I have a fucking vagina doesn't mean I live to do the laundry.

2. My brother, a huge, jock kind of guy, once was drunk enough to tell his friends that if he ever got in a tight fight kind of situation (you know, wars and foxholes, kill or be killed stuff) and he could only pick one person to team up with, he'd pick me. One of the guys apparently laughed (I'm five feet tall, after all, and a female, and oh my, we all know females are all wilty and passive.) My brother said, and I quote: "You've never seen her mad."

3. Just because I have a vagina doesn't mean I'm a great cook, a good cook, a happy cook, or even all that wild about going to the grocery to get food for someone else to cook. Not that anyone around here does. And I can't get mad about that, as the person who doesn't cook or do laundry is building an addition on our home that's truly beautiful, so I'm screwed doing the traditional girl stuff, since he's doing the traditional guy stuff, and that makes me nuts. Even though I don't want to learn to do the traditional guy stuff.

4. Just because I have breasts doesn't mean I'm 24/7 all that worked up about being all communal and nurturing. Sometimes I feel like it. Sometimes I want to be left to myself and have some time to breathe (JB likes this part a lot. It's the part that says to him Go forth, handsome man, and golf. Golf all day, please, and then, for God's sake and mine, stay at the clubhouse and drink with your friends for a while....

5. I love traveling but I'm not so nuts about flying since we've had terrorists around. They fucking piss me off. I wouldn't mind at all being the one who lines them up and takes them out. And make no mistake about it, and I do mean NONE; if I had one on board a flight with me; I already know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'd be absolutely fine with slicing one up. Not a problem. I'm very nice to people who are nice to me, or to just the general 'everyone' around me. But mess with me or mine, and death is an option. This is where I'm mumbling shit under my breath like...oh yeah, asswipe, like forty virgins would even get near your slimey assed self, you mothrfuckers. I hate your asses. Die now.

6. When I'm in a certain kind of a mood, and unsettled, like now, I like to rant. Hell. I NEED to rant.(I think just about everyone does this.) Always before it was a quiet thing in my mind. Then BT helped me set up this blog. HA!

7. I hate sushi a lot. It smells and it's uncooked. Apples and plums uncooked? Mmmmm mmmmm good. Fish uncooked? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

8. I wish I could live down in a warm swimming pool, and it was always summer, and I was always sixteen.

9. I miss running. About ten years ago, I ran a lot. Absolutely addicted. So addicted to the natural high that I kept popping Motrin when my right-leg hamstrings started popping and burning. Then I blew out groin ligaments in the leg, and I was permanently sidelined. I miss that runner's high more than I miss, well, I'd better not say, or you all will think I'm really mean, instead of only honest.

10. I love white wine, and it doesn't have to be especially good stuff. I have no discerning palate.

Okay- the last few weren't rants. I got tired, plus I was finished ranting but yet felt compelled to get to the number 10.

Hope some of you do your own rant meme - if you do, please let me know so I can come enjoy it!

My version of feminism...

...involves a blunt-edged sword.

I thought about this just now, listening to a TV show The Blondster was watching while I was in the kitchen, around the corner from her.

So I hear the guy on the show saying something like...Oh, Blah Blah Girl, I realize now, I'm ready to make a commitment. I am. I am!

And she answers him back...Oh yeah, NOW you're ready, now that I'm about to spend the summer in Paris, you're finally ready?

And Bozo Boy says to her...Yes. Yes, that's right. I'm ready! I love you, Blah Blah Girl!

(Insert Robin doing her inner puke sound about here.)

So I stuck my head around the corner and I said to The Blondster...so, is she still going to Paris?

Yes, said The Blondster.

So I said, Well, that's damn a good thing, because I'd tell that idiot freakin' guy to bite my ass if he didn't like it.

Whereupon The Blondster rolled her eyes and said Yeah, Mom, I know, I know. Girl Power.

Now I only hope it sticks, that Girl Power of hers.

Here's a picture I haven't seen in a while...

...in fact, I'd forgotten what my office used to look like until I saw this again.
I've got a relative staying with me for the week (yeah, I have The Blondster in bed with the influenza virus, the elderly relative here, and a stress-filled job. No worries here about those final edits. No sirree, Bob.)

Anyway, I got a kick out of this one, because it was taken in the early 80s, just about the time of the end of my novel - not that this woman, this earlier version of me, is the protagonist/narrator, but there's some narrative crossover.




Do you all have any of these novel/not novel pictures to share?

Madison B.

I'm following on to McK's darling pet Polly dog post with pictures of our baby cat, Madison.

Madison was tossed at us last May, when The Blondster (currently in bed with the actual flu) received a tiny baby kitty for her birthday. JB and I were not, as they say, amused. And neither was our old cat, Dale, seen here looking miserable early last June, sitting next to the wild child, Madison.



Dale was seventeen years old, and sweet, and tired. His natural habitat was Lying Still, on Cushions.



And then...along came Maddie.

Fast forward to now.



It's not so easy to get good pictures of Madison...she of the nimble little bod.

But finally, she sat still in the kitchen...



She's mean, bitchy, screeches when she doesn't get her way, runs roughshod over the pussy boy cats in the neighborhood, and I love her.

A Romantic Collection

Sylvia's put together a list of the voice posts, which she's agreed to update as more recordings show up so if you aren't on the list yet, just let her know in the comments!

These are the voices she's found so far:

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Okay. I'm ready to go.: Here are ours...

The 70's come alive. Or not...

Corner Kick: And now I completely lose your respect for all time

Yeah, well, I did a ton of slushily romantic goopy crap poetry when I was courting Mrs. Pete back in college. I was 21, and today I am so mortified by the squooshy gooshy lovey-dovey drivel I produced that I can't believe it actually worked.

Whittering On...: Romancectomy.

Normally I duck behind the parapet when these are going on because I have an unerring ability to transform into a stuttering eejit when asked to read aloud. However I've realised that even I couldn't mess up this one

McKoala Days: Alluring?

Here's my attempt - Burns, unromanticized. (Less than a minute long - that's how long it took to destroy our national poet...)

In Search of Giants: Flat Affect Romantica

I have the plague (or its second cousin once removed which still reduces grown people to whiny little snot heaps) and my voice sounds like more grotesque version of Maxine's.

Underneath the Bridge: I'ma Get Romantic On Your Ass

Last time she had us reading something boring in a sexy voice, and I apologize to those who were hospitalized from swoon related injuries. (Send me the bill.) This time it's all flipped around and we're supposed to read something slushily romantic in a completely unromantic manner. I know. I know. You're thinking: Blogless how could the sweet dulcet sounds of your voice ever be construed as anything but romantic?

EE's Stuff: Sweetness

A minion commented:
That voice is a total passion killer. Brilliant.

Can’t Backspace » I’m tired of carrying your damn heart

I'm so sorry, Mr Cummings!

The weblog of the one true paca: The anti-valentine

If you do find this romantic, I have a couple friends I can hook you up with, though you may wish to meet them wearing battle armor.

fairyhedgehog: Love Hurts

There is nothing that you wouldn't want your kiddies to hear, except possibly for the doomladen, apathetic and yet irritable tone of voice.

AbyssWinksBack: Bring On The Shakey, Bring On The Decibels

Once again, it’s time to venture into the fun-packed world of laryngial flexion action — thankfully, minus the porn stars.

Freddie's Cafe: How Not to Read a Love Poem

"And this one time, at band camp . . . . ?"

Short Stuff: Voice and Quilt

This is truly non-romantic and only an approximation of my voice*.

*Abject apologies to Willy.

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If your recording isn't in this list, please leave a link in the comments and it'll get added asap!

The Curious Case of the Flat Affect Romantica Folk...

Please pop a note on here when yours is up and running.

As for me, mine is coming later tonight, or in the wee hours of the morning, along with a guest.

Can't wait to hear you guys!!!

Robin Jr.'s request...

"Hi mom- I thought your blog friends might want to know about this...especially that Evil Editor dude.

http://www.dance-a-day.blogspot.com/

Two guys from my course have decided to dance to a different song every day until we graduate. QUITE ENTERTAINING... They were initially posting them all on facebook, but they decided they wanted to share the phenomenon with the world. So I'm helping get the word out!"

So....you all, and Evil dude, please check out my baby girl's friends.

And by the way, my precious girl turned 21 on February 4th, and is gonna be graduating with her Foundation degree in Graphic Design and Visual Communication, in England, in June.

Here she was on Halloween 2008, in full costume regalia, at a party:

All right then. The date is set.

In the words of our lovely and much loved McKoala...How about we turn Valentine's day around? Read something slushily romantic in the least romantic way possible?

And how about Thursday, February 12th to post (or, for the antsy amongst us, the evening of the 11th)?

So far, in comment order, I see FH, Kiersten, freddie, Whirl, BT, McK, Pete, Sylvia, paca, oh yeah, and me, signing on.

What about EE and ril? phoneix, are you gonna give it a shot? Chris? Janey?

And Sarah and WW, I hope you guys can hear this, because I'm gonna read a love poem (oh hell no, I didn't write it), and I'm going for as slushily romantically serious as I can stand without laughing my ass off. Or drinking it off, either.

Well, OK, there'll be drinking. And laughing, too, if JB hears me. (Actually, if he hears me, he'll think I found something a lot more interesting to imbibe than plain old white wine. And he'll ask to share.)

This should be a good one - looking forward to hearing you all play!