Helen Mirren Is Smokin' Hot

So, we totally already knew that Helen Mirren is beautiful and insanely talented as an actress. We've seen all the goooorgeous gowns during award season and her fabulous style. Her most charming cleavage is a wonder to behold in said gowns, but did anyone quite know what a knock out she is?She turns 63 in a few days. Yes, you read that correctly. Dang, I want to be Helen Mirren when I grow up. I have never in my life looked as amazing as this. It's an inspiration. I'm sure I could have a salad for dinner tonight after witnessing this.

I came across this photo on Go Fug Yourself. (They got it from The Daily Mail) Do you read it? It's a riot and an education all at once, so go get hysterical reading their critiques of fashion.

Duh

Went to the grocery store for two things.

Bought nine.

Pulling out of the parking lot I realized none of the nine were the two that I went for originally and actually needed.

Refused to go back to the madness of the grocery store and its parking lot.

Early Alzheimers? Could be. Just an idiot? Could be.

Pepe Be Gone

Every night I have a visitor.

He is very ardent in his pursuit.

Somewhere between ten and two he appears on my front lawn and makes his presence known.




I feel much like the poor cat in this picture. Nearly every night Monsieur appears beneath my window proffering his bouquet of stench. The scent is enough to make my eyes water. It can wake me from a sound sleep.

I have seen this skunk. In fact, I saw it last night when I was walking home from Darcel's place. It's oddly white, like 80%. From a distance you could tragically mistake it for a cat.

Oh how I wish he would go away. Far, far away.

*The photo is from here.

Fireworks - Not For You, Massachusetts, Not For You!

Most I really love living in Massachusetts. It's pretty liberal, there is a big city, beaches, good chowder, skiing, lots of state parks, fall foliage, the Red Sox and more. However, sometimes this place is so effing uptight that you can not believe it. The Yankee blood runs true- conservative, puritanical, no-fun, doom and gloom reign here on the Fourth of July (and select other moments).

Did you know that in the state of Massachusetts every single kind of firework is illegal. Every kind! You can't even light a sparkler or a black snake* for the love of Pete! No lie. A BLACK. SNAKE. Um, the most benign firework ever. If you lose a finger or toe lighting one of these I gotta say that's Darwin at work and leave it at that.

What kind of state says that you can't light a sparkler? I get maybe advising us not to, or reminding us to put down the beer while we light up the black snakes, but exactly how incompetent do you think we are? We can really decide if we want to lose our fingers all by ourselves, so could you butt out, Massachusetts? A few PSAs regarding the dangers and some good limitations would really be just about enough.

Honestly, I don't need my neighbors to be armed with professional grade fireworks. I don't want to stay up all night listening to some moron's unending supply of crappy fireworks whistle, bang and sizzle. But I would kinda like to be allowed one box of multi-colored sparklers. I'm old enough. Seriously. I can manage it.

OK, kids, you have fun and stay safe out there. If you live anywhere but here, you light up a sparkler for me. Don't lose any fingers in the process, please. Remember, put down the beer, then light the sparkler...

*Please watch that Black Snake Firework video- a dad yelling 'Flaming pooping trio!' while the toddler giggles and the mom goes, 'eeeeewww, that's grooooos'. Classic. If that's not family fun, on America's birthday what is??

Hard Day = Clean Apartment

Yesterday was a totally crappy day. A company that owes me money is pulling the 'revenue stream issues' and 'tough times' line. Right. So, for work I have already completed you will not pay. Great. They assure me that they really will pay me. Someday. Not so helpful for say, today.

My reaction was a moment of hysteria and then I grabbed some cleaning implements.

Really. Cleaning stuff. What is the matter with me? When faced with emotional crises, those which I can't change and that make me nuts, I clean.

I got out the Windex and went to town on the windows. The baseboard radiators are shiny and dust free. The baseboards, spotless. The pollen that once decorated my windowsills? Goners! Loads of laundry, a reorganized closet, a freshly made bed.

So I'm an emotional wreck. But hey, my apartment is spotless!

*Helmet image proof positive that I've always been a little crazy and that a helmet is always a handy accessory.

I'm A Flintstones Kid

I am a Flintstones kid. Ok, the kid part is clearly pushing it, but so what. Years ago in a fit of health consciousness I purchased a bottle of Centrum one-a-day vitamins. I hated them. Nothing against them, this was entirely my fault. They were just so...grown up...boring...lifeless. I think it took me six months to finish a bottle that should have lasted a month.

The next time I went to my doctor I asked, "Um, can I take Flintstones vitamins instead of the grown up Centrum type ones?" The doctor looked at me funny. I explained, "I know it's dumb, but I never remember or like to take the regular ones so I thought maybe, well, Flintstones." He continued to look at me funny. Then he laughed. Then he said, "Yes, you can take them if you want." I asked if I needed to take two a day or anything since I am not seven anymore, but he assured me that one was plenty.

So now I take Flintstones every day. I have managed to do this for years now. I rarely forget on a given day. I keep them by my kitchen sink so that I see them often and remember. I've even gotten the ones that have iron, so they're perfect for me.

In the past I tried the generic store version and I gotta say, not as good. I'm all for the less expensive generic whenever possible, but I would say that the purchase of the actual Flintstones is the way to go.

So, if you have been skipping your Centrum or whatever because it just has no zip. Take my advice, get yourself some Flintstones and feel the magic.
Look, I get a red Barney today. Not as good as my favorite purple Dino, but still, waaaaay better than boring!

The Chicken Dance

Today I was grumpy. I know why I was grumpy, but it doesn't really matter and I couldn't change of the factors involved. It's boring to be grumpy. It is boring to be the person has to deal with the grump. I was trying to just crank over and get the grump out of the system but nothing was particularly effective.

I arrived to get the boys at school this afternoon and had a few minutes to wait. Noticing that my car's dashboard and all other flat surfaces were disgustingly dirty and covered with pollen I grabbed my pack of Windex Wipes and started to clean. That's the kind of OCD girl I am. I have Windex Wipes in my car...all the time. Sigh.

As I wiped away the gross grime a car pulled into the adjoining parking lot. The sound of a boisterous and incredibly loud accordion rendition of The Chicken Dance was pulsing out of this vehicle. Really? An accordion listener who blasts their music? Fascinating.

The car pulled in and out of a space about six hundred times before finally parking to their satisfaction. Either they were a perfectionist or just crazy. That mystery was solved when the car door opened. The volume of the music increased to deafening levels and out of the car emerged a very tall, very skinny elderly man. Seeing the line up of nannies, mothers, fathers and others waiting for their kids he began to dance. Not a lie. He hopped-one-foot-skipped and shimmied in a circle around his car. The Chicken Dance's ever increasing tempo beat frantically faster and faster as this senior citizen beanpole improv polka'd around the vehicle.

Awesome.

He didn't seem crazy in the clinical sense. He seemed crazy in the what-the-eff-do-you-care way. A way I can't imagine being ever, he just did what he wanted when he wanted because he wanted to. End of story.

As the music ended he reached in, turned off the radio, shut the car door and wandered over to sit on the chairs with a few other seniors who were hanging out at the establishment.

I found myself cackling with glee. Seriously, when have you ever seen such a thing? Never! Visions of family weddings, St. Patrick's Day colleen balls, New Year's parties, retirement parties, anniversary parties, all featuring aunts, uncles and cousins in various stages of non-sobriety doing The Chicken Dance. Normally dignified older ladies and gentlemen flapping their arms with abandon, typically cool and hip cousins shimmying their backsides as tailfeathers, small children losing their balance and wiping out on the dance floor. I could not stop laughing as the memories of the insanity crowded in.

Then a woman pulled her car into the space beside mine. As I looked over I see that she has taken out a Swiffer Duster and is attacking her dashboard and vents. HA! Let the crazies gather in one place, I say!

I was officially ungrumpy. Really, who could be grumpy in the face of such total lunacy? Not me.

By the way, the instructions to The Chicken Dance are available online here. No freaking kidding. It's awesome. Actually, extra awesome.

Mystery Tree

In my front yard there lives a mystery tree.

I know a little about plants, but not a lot and this one is a total mystery to me!

It looks like a shrub that thinks its a tree. It doesn't have one solid trunk but rather several smaller ones that are kinda welded together. It does not have big branches, just loads and loads of smaller branches.

In the winter the leaves fall off and there is nothing but trunk and branches, but come spring this thing busts out like there is no tomorrow.

The mystery tree blossoms with a profusion of white flowers. Four long, skinny petals cluster around a little yellow center and the sweet aroma is overpowering. There are many, many flowers in clusters. The whole tree actually looks shaggy!

I thought it was some kind of honeysuckle, given the look of the flowers and the sweet, sweet smell, but I haven't seen anything on the interwebs that looks like this. Most say that it is a smaller shrub, but this thing is massive.

Mystery tree stands about 20 feet high and 30 feet across, far larger than the listings of 8-10 feet.

As I took photos I spotted a robin. He was very pretty among the white flowers but he was most suspicious of my camera and me. He eyed me carefully and fluttered from branch to branch trying to avoid me. No such luck, bird, no such luck.

So if anyone has any bright ideas as to what this mystery tree is, let me know. I search the interwebs for knowledge until then.

Under Lock And Key

Blogger locked me up!

Random.

They locked up my blog and sent me an email saying they had it flagged by some auto-spidering system thingy as a possible spam blog and that they would review and let me know. Really? What about my blog seemed spamish? I haven't even gotten into my love of Monty Python yet in this venue. Anywho they finally decided I'm a real human and they let me back in!

I'm all for keeping out the spam, so overall I support. But I can't quite imagine what of the posts about noisy neighbors and Fiddle and Faddle could have tipped them to think I was a baddy.

And So It Begins

Technology, I wish I could quit you. Seriously, I already blog elsewhere just between friends and I Twitter and IM and email. I am a heap of technology that just never ends. However, I just couldn't resist having one more blog. This one will be public. Just what the world needs, more of me! Wheee! Lucky world.