tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86711621287284927512023-11-16T10:27:30.964-05:00An Aunt's LifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger184125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-85102086175635744852018-03-04T17:10:00.000-05:002018-03-04T19:07:59.352-05:00Oscar Picks 2018<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's Oscar day again! Which means it's time for my annual Academy Award picks.<br />
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As always, these aren't predictions. Only my list of favorites in each of the main categories.<br />
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Of the nine Best Picture nominees, there are only three I've yet to see; <i>Phantom Thread</i> (which was at the top of my list, but didn't stay at the local theaters long enough for me to get to), <i>The Post</i> (Which I'd sacrificed at the theater thinking it would be released On Demand in time for the show. It was not) and <i>Call Me by Your Name</i> (which I was tempted to squeeze in this afternoon, but just wasn't in the mood for a good cry.)<br />
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I'm going to try be brief this year in an effort to have all my meat, cheese and carbs cooked and ready in time for the red carpet pre-show. (Yes, really! You imbibe your way, I'll imbibe mine.)<br />
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So without further ado...<br />
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<b>Costume Design:</b><br />
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With all the glorious period pieces this year to choose from, I'd love to consider everyone a winner for once. So, I'll base this vote on sheer volume of work for the costume department and use of color. Congratulations to <i>Beauty and the Beast</i>!<br />
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<b>Makeup and Hair:</b><br />
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I don't understand how there are only three nominees in this category. And, I don't understand how <i>The Shape of Water</i> wasn't given a nod. If Hollywood is telling us that there was no prosthetic help in creating this...<br />
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...I can't say I'm inclined to believe them. (However, if the beautiful Sea Creature suit falls under "costuming" I'll go ahead and change my vote for the above category. Pronto!)<br />
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Of the <i>actual </i>nominees I'm going to cast my vote to <i>The Darkest Hour. </i>Because this<br />
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is Gary Oldman. Yes! The Gary Oldman. And, not once during the film did my thoughts wander to <i>Sid and Nancy</i>, or Lee Harvey Oswalt, or any face other than that of Winston Churchill. Well done hair and makeup team! Very well done.<br />
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<b>Production Design:</b><br />
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I'm not even going to beat around the bush here.<i> The Shape of Water</i>!<br />
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<i style="text-align: left;">The Shape of Water</i><span style="text-align: left;">!</span></div>
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<i>The Shape of Water</i>!</div>
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Sure other nominees had their flash, their GGI, their big budgets, and their era settings nailed down to a tee. But, this is the only of these film whose set design has really stuck with me, who's plastered all over my Pinterest boards, and has me dreaming of laying green ceramic tile anywhere it will stick. </div>
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I love you <i>Shape of Water</i>! I mean... really...</div>
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<b>Film Editing:</b></div>
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I won't vote on the sound categories this year because everyone is equally worthy this time around.</div>
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For editing, I've narrowed down my picks to <i>I, Tonya </i>and <i>Dunkirk </i>for very different reasons. </div>
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<i>I, Tonya </i>gets a nod from me---not only because I'm a sucker for picking sports flicks in this category---but because the editors on this film count as a bonus comedic character in my book. The tragic story wouldn't have held its dark sense of humor at all without the genius quick cuts and scene changes provided in its post-production. Stuffed teddies on the ice for you, Tatiana Reigel!<br />
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War films are also an easy pick for an editing nod. But, the ability shown in tying the action of air-sea battle with all the drama and desperation also happening on land has me cheering for <i>Dunkirk </i>just as much. Especially considering the quality of Air Sea Battles I grew up with.<br />
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<b>Cinematography:</b><br />
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I'm voting strictly on bias here and throwing another prize at <i>The Shape of Water. </i>It was just that pretty. The camera was so in love with the story which made the audience equally enchanted.<br />
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Although, I won't cry if <i>The Darkest Hour </i>takes home the prize either. So much beautiful camerawork seen in the theaters this year!<br />
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<b>Original Screenplay:</b><br />
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I put off seeing this until this very weekend. I was worried it would be a downer. I was worried it was going to seem heavily weighed with social commentary and would feel almost like homework after having watched.<br />
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I was SO very wrong. That I will admit.<br />
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My apology, as well as my vote for Best Original Screenplay, goes to <i>Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri. </i><br />
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This story had, not only heart and grit, but the level of banter going on between its very complicated characters was in itself award-worthy. Yes, the story was based on true events. But, <i>very loosely based, </i>I'll assure you. Each character had their flaws. Each character had their own brand of strengths and weaknesses. And, each character was perfectly written and expertly acted (which, in the 11th hour, changed some of my votes in the acting categories.)</div>
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It's okay to laugh. There's alot of comedy in this screenplay. You have their blessing.</div>
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<b>Adapted Screenplay:</b></div>
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Confession, the only film I've seen in this category is <i>Molly's Game. </i>Another "true story" in this year's contenders.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It wasn't my favorite movie of the year. In fact, I almost forgot about it until seeing it on the nomination list. But, the story grabbed my attention enough that I came home from the theater to immediately hop on Wikipedia just to figure out all the actual whos, whats, and whens.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">That said, I'm guessing this prize will actually go to <i>Call Me by Your Name.</i> The trailer alone had me clutching my heart in impending heartbreak. And, if that's not a sign of a well-told story... I don't know what is!</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>Director:</b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Ooohhh!!! We're getting to the good stuff now!</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Go ahead and grab your pearls, because I'm giving yet another trophy to <i>The Shape of Water.</i></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsAFHTp5vPPyVjPhqfvxas_OthPrbagbYhBgTV-t5a7hMUl5wuuHpQs2Bjm8yCiXVCsHnV4nU1bwoHthJVBZNNzMLUClMexhqPZNTgJKgu7p6IUvD3r2VhUfojpinIV2Mxi1unKZIJ1W-/s1600/SOW+Director.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="780" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsAFHTp5vPPyVjPhqfvxas_OthPrbagbYhBgTV-t5a7hMUl5wuuHpQs2Bjm8yCiXVCsHnV4nU1bwoHthJVBZNNzMLUClMexhqPZNTgJKgu7p6IUvD3r2VhUfojpinIV2Mxi1unKZIJ1W-/s320/SOW+Director.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Why? because he's Guillermo del Toro and you're not.</div>
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<b>Supporting Actress: </b></div>
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I'm so torn. So very very torn with this one.</div>
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How about I give half a trophy to Octavia Spencer in <i>The Shape of Water...</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67SzScrrreJvNaoz_OjYCmDJeFJd0YsuJgWKb9BWwRmreeVs14R5xz2Ve85ks8M4GOQ9ZXa3IHN35SylYi4FhNHfVcy0FgoGF_HeR1ETJu-m2wgqI6ljXC6JxtDangcN_ug8fvz8LV12j/s1600/shape_of_water+Octavia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="873" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg67SzScrrreJvNaoz_OjYCmDJeFJd0YsuJgWKb9BWwRmreeVs14R5xz2Ve85ks8M4GOQ9ZXa3IHN35SylYi4FhNHfVcy0FgoGF_HeR1ETJu-m2wgqI6ljXC6JxtDangcN_ug8fvz8LV12j/s320/shape_of_water+Octavia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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and the other half to Allison Janney in <i>I, Tonya.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJyjCv4gZGeSXWk1dDF8W12Hr5VHXFxVh-9PXNaAmB9vIzaIxE0K3bHb9YbXtYTf3rlQVTR3Pvft-NzFrFe9MqLM1BNczD1R-MbPjYiYIlYYyZeb37QvwhMQVbq4l4WvAYoHU1IgW1toA/s1600/allison-janney.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="710" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJyjCv4gZGeSXWk1dDF8W12Hr5VHXFxVh-9PXNaAmB9vIzaIxE0K3bHb9YbXtYTf3rlQVTR3Pvft-NzFrFe9MqLM1BNczD1R-MbPjYiYIlYYyZeb37QvwhMQVbq4l4WvAYoHU1IgW1toA/s320/allison-janney.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Octavia, always so spunky and flawless. I wanted a best friend just like her in her picture. And, I was completely frightened by Allison as Tonya Harding's mother (and her bird). If that's not good acting, I don't know what is!</div>
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<b>Supporting Actor:</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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I've been supporting Richard Jenkins of <i>Shape of Water </i>in this category for months now!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwqRE1oGUu5caFwGusgfUxOl8ciMSt-jRGaLp5yQRfE-hz4To_nDo8v68iYm_GEAQu-wNkiMSr100voo7RT2DdwKGm2S14klc22wfKJ5rhi06dNV_LGUZQftYs1MQ3eZ85yATjVbmAThz/s1600/SOW+Richard+Jenkins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwqRE1oGUu5caFwGusgfUxOl8ciMSt-jRGaLp5yQRfE-hz4To_nDo8v68iYm_GEAQu-wNkiMSr100voo7RT2DdwKGm2S14klc22wfKJ5rhi06dNV_LGUZQftYs1MQ3eZ85yATjVbmAThz/s1600/SOW+Richard+Jenkins.jpg" /></a></div>
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Another coveted best friend in a sweet, charming and sometimes heart-breaking performance.</div>
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But, then I had to go and watch <i>Three Billboards. </i>And, dearest Mr. Jenkins, I may have to edge you out for Sam Rockwell. (Ack! Gasp! There, I said it.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJkPYXjTDLVfOKFOkEWzu0eZ2b_BeVQOcmLXI5_4Ck7yc16uz0TI3r_B-rQw9u6nThHFTW-YlfW-IG5haYFWTD9Ga3_2dFanxkfUTQCDOxpohA5QKkVcij4kld72DrUSnNcEEIK52K8q2/s1600/rockwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="1000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJkPYXjTDLVfOKFOkEWzu0eZ2b_BeVQOcmLXI5_4Ck7yc16uz0TI3r_B-rQw9u6nThHFTW-YlfW-IG5haYFWTD9Ga3_2dFanxkfUTQCDOxpohA5QKkVcij4kld72DrUSnNcEEIK52K8q2/s320/rockwell.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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He made me <i>hate </i>Officer Dixon! He made me think he was an absolute moron and waste of space on this fictional earth. Then he made me laugh. Then he made me fume! Then he made me think, "No! Don't do it!". And, then he made me root for him.<br />
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Phew! Officer Dixon is exhausting. And, I'll clap for him if he wins tonight.<br />
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<b>Lead Actress:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
All five ladies nominated tonight are magic and incredible. Love them all! Am a fan of them all! Almost hate to see them pitted against each other. (Almost... I still watch these things of course!)<br />
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But, if I <i>have </i>to pick... let's not be silly. The trophy is going to Frances McDormand and we all know it. (As it should!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGltmtI8QmCodByyZMmjG9ppaSIG_Z6iRc_ZcF-e5THKqJMe9EPB0jSJ52Q6ogmrFdHfo8nlCpjMkJqbJRtXt3OHhumWE6xvPQT0567zf4knsW_q_VGV3ofg5fxnsdRQvZBbfU83wPsG6/s1600/3+billboard+frances.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGltmtI8QmCodByyZMmjG9ppaSIG_Z6iRc_ZcF-e5THKqJMe9EPB0jSJ52Q6ogmrFdHfo8nlCpjMkJqbJRtXt3OHhumWE6xvPQT0567zf4knsW_q_VGV3ofg5fxnsdRQvZBbfU83wPsG6/s320/3+billboard+frances.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As Mildred Hayes, Frances is strong yet broken, full of edge <i>and </i>heart, packed with humor and fire (maybe literally even) as well as every other contradiction that can exist in the human form. She was simply perfect. And, every other nominee will clap for her as she climbs those steps tonight. Her performance was quite simply a masterclass. And, it will inspire others in her field for generations to come.</div>
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<b>Lead Actor:</b></div>
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The puff pastry for my pigs and blankets is now overly thawed and I'm scrambling to get this out in time. I'm hungry and am being more long-winded than I'd promised. </div>
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So, I'm tossing the Lead Actor trophy at Gary Oldman for <i>The Darkest Hour</i> as I run to preheat the oven. <i>"Here you go, Winston!"</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ3WHbUOLRcdavwaDx23qfsTsN_GrQFL3X7M06no01_6uCdNWunumZPs7S9XCD2yOdOgvrhOFXFqd_Mf7Mhx4K7HkO5w8ozWboZ8dflkCSPqQkRoQqeQRA5jM7mp17nMOzUzgB6EHZYSw/s1600/Gary+Oldman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1280" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ3WHbUOLRcdavwaDx23qfsTsN_GrQFL3X7M06no01_6uCdNWunumZPs7S9XCD2yOdOgvrhOFXFqd_Mf7Mhx4K7HkO5w8ozWboZ8dflkCSPqQkRoQqeQRA5jM7mp17nMOzUzgB6EHZYSw/s320/Gary+Oldman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Does he looked pleased? Can you tell?)</div>
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<b>Best Picture:</b></div>
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Oven is set to 400 degrees, giving me just enough time to announce my big winner.</div>
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Again, I was pulling for <i>The Shape of Water</i> ever since its release weekend. Nothing had pulled ahead of it, in my mind, until this weekend.</div>
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Now I think I'm going to change my vote for the big prize to <i>Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri. </i>(Eek!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrrSsMh8gMugkAcBUJxIeACjBmlT1Gqac_Tw7ZKzBpnPYZCgWP0-4biLDo6E8sgWLDKknlSDrGfVB4u4Z3rGKEbTrlDiPl2IGyLy_pEp6wp4pfKmk-a_PzxrQtstRZ7ymuJxflkljeCh3/s1600/threebillboard_final_rev_-_h_2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="928" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrrSsMh8gMugkAcBUJxIeACjBmlT1Gqac_Tw7ZKzBpnPYZCgWP0-4biLDo6E8sgWLDKknlSDrGfVB4u4Z3rGKEbTrlDiPl2IGyLy_pEp6wp4pfKmk-a_PzxrQtstRZ7ymuJxflkljeCh3/s320/threebillboard_final_rev_-_h_2018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not just because of this crazy art piece I found via Hollywood Reporter. But, because it truly was a masterpiece in storytelling, acting, cinematography and all of the other pieces that help the film making world go round.</div>
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Don't be afraid of this film! You will feel. You will get mad. But, you also will laugh. And, I don't think you'll regret that one hour fifty-five minutes of your life spent on it.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Honorable mentions: Two familiar faces I saw amongst this year's nominated films were Caleb Landry Jones who costarred in both <i>Three Billboards </i>and <i>Get Out. </i>(Utterly freaking me out in the latter.) And, Lucas Hedges playing Robbie in <i>Three Billboards </i>and Saoirse Ronan's boyfriend in <i>Lady Bird. </i>(He reminds me of a young Jesse Plemons). Put them on your "Ones to Watch" list for upcoming award seasons.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-34777424339627284272016-11-08T23:21:00.001-05:002016-11-08T23:21:05.479-05:00I'm With Us<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Something unexpected happened to me at the polls today.<br />
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It wasn't the overaggressive (not to mention, uninformed) man who practically accosted me with his "knowledge" as I walked in the door. It wasn't the short wait or free coffee and pastries at my new voting precinct. (But, way to go Precinct #2!)<br />
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It wasn't the names or proposals on the ballot. I came prepared. I knew who was running. I understood everything at stake.<br />
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The thing that took me by surprise... so much so, that I paused for a moment just to savor the feeling... was my reaction to reading my ballot behind those trifold walls. That my eyes actually teared up when I saw a woman's name as a major party candidate for President of the United States. And, that I had just as much opportunity to shade in her box as I did any other box on the list. It was an option. It was finally <i>there</i>.<br />
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I've always thought of myself as an empowered Gen-Xer. I never thought of myself as being raised in an era where I was allowed or disallowed to do things simply based on my gender.<br />
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Yet, somehow, simply seeing a fellow female's name on a very important piece of paper this morning had enough power to bring me to tears.<br />
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Just as I can take for granted that I'm even allowed to step foot in a polling station and cast a vote, my female ancestors will be able to take for granted that their name could even be on the ballot.<br />
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It's no longer a "what if", a "one day", or a "that will never happen". It's happened! It's now the norm. We can move forward.<br />
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No matter the outcome of tonight's results, this is how America now works. Race, religion or gender no longer impedes our ability to progress. We're running out of "firsts" to brand people with in the political race.<br />
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We can move past this silly notion of what's allowed and why it took so long to get there. We're now here! And, it's such an American place to be.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Disclaimer: My vote today was not based on gender, race, religion or party lines. There was one candidate I agreed with on many things and one I didn't agree with at all. Please save your political lectures for your own social media page. If something inside you is offended by my feminism, you've likely had the blessing of never experiencing the type of treatment that the rest of us battle with every day. Take a moment away from staring at your shoes and take a gander at that glass ceiling that so mesmerizes the rest of us all.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-17191505616833124062016-01-16T18:17:00.000-05:002016-01-16T18:22:17.099-05:00The Revenant: Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I predict an award season sweep for <i>The Revenant.</i> And, if this prediction is to come to pass, it will be very well deserved.</div>
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Those who remember my <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/02/oscar-picks-2015.html" target="_blank">lac<span style="font-family: inherit;">k of</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/02/oscar-picks-2015.html" target="_blank"> award season support</a> for Alejandro Inarritu's last directing effort, <i>Birdman, </i>(at least in the directing category) will be please to hear that I've pulled a total 180 in terms of recognizing this year's directing (producing and writing) effort as a job 100% well done.</span></div>
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Stories like <i>The Revenant </i>are hard to come by in today's modern cinema. A flawless, three act, fully-thought out script captured to perfection by brilliant camera work, acting, set design, makeup and seamless use of CGI. Each act allotted to its own hour which, in order, could have been simply titled as The Why, The Survival and The Revenge.</div>
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Although there were many other films to love this year, <i>The Revenant </i>as a whole was the perfect package. (And, since <i>The Hateful Eight </i>was snubbed in all of the big categories, I can now publicly throw my full support behind <i>The Revenant.</i>)</div>
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Here's my support of the sweep in each category:</div>
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<b>Cinematography: </b>AMAZING!!! I've been critical in the past of too-close camera work. (<i><a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2013/02/2013-oscar-picks.html" target="_blank">Beasts of the Southern Wild</a>) </i>But, today, while I watched the lens fog up as Leonardo DiCaprio's Hugh Glass painfully pulled in and out each sleeping breath... I thought to myself, "<i>THIS </i>is when you decide against the slow pan and just shove the camera right up in there!" <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b><i>The Hateful Eight. </i>My eyes enjoyed both films for the same reason: The magnificent capturing of our nation's topography in the winter snow. Such a thing is much more appreciated on screen than in my driveway.</div>
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<b>Visual Effects: </b>I can already predict the Academy's choice of using "The Bear Scene" while introducing <i>The Revenant </i>as a nominee. CGI has never been trickier and it will be the right choice. <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Any of the other nominees (<i>Mad Max: Fury Road, The Martian, Ex Machina, Star Wars: The Force Awakens) </i>should have a fair shake in this category. (Although, that bear alone, should give <i>The Revenant </i>an edge...)</div>
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<b>Production Design: </b>Come on...</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">We may also need to give an honorary award to the continent of North America for this. </span><b style="text-align: left;">Toughest Competition in this Category: </b><span style="text-align: left;">Well, </span><span style="text-align: left;"><i>The Martian</i>'s team <i>did </i>create Mars and all...</span></div>
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<b>Film Editing: </b>I completely humiliated myself by being the only one in the theater to audibly gasp during the "Horse/Cliff" scene.<b> </b>That's some good editing right there, not to mention the epic battle and fight scenes cut to perfection throughout. <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Possibly <i>Mad Max: Fury Road. </i>This genre tends to do well in the technical categories and, although I haven't seen the film yet, the trailer alone has enough cuts to impress in this category.</div>
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<b>Sound Editing: </b>Fight scenes, battle scenes, bear noise scenes, hallucinatory Pawnee voice scenes, Leo grunting scenes... the ingredients are all there. <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Any of the other nominees have a chance at taking this one home. The fact that Leo's voice didn't always seem to match up with his lips might be reason enough for this Oscar to slip out of grasp and ruin a full sweep.</div>
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<b>Makeup and Hairstyling: </b>Two scalp<span style="background-color: #ffe599;">ed skulls and a thousand bear wounds just might seal this deal.<b> </b><b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>I don't know what on earth <i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit;">The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared </i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit;">is. But, it sounds like something some aging techniques may have been used in.</span></span></div>
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<b>Costume Design: </b>Furs, suede, leather... all the classic Western elements were there.<b> </b><b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Any other nominee. I love when the costume designers are allowed to shine in films that are otherwise not recognized during award season. I will not cry if we take a loss on this one. (And, at one point, Tom Hardy had a fleece blanket thrown over him that <i>I swear </i>could have been purchased at Walmart.)</div>
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<b>Directing: </b>Alejandro, Alejandro... please forgive <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/02/oscar-picks-2015.html" target="_blank">my criticism</a> of <i>Birdman</i>'s single-shot steady cam experimentation. Consider this full endorsement as penance. <b> </b><b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Not a chance he will lose this one.</div>
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<b>Supporting Actor: </b>for Tom Hardy's punk ass bitch... er, portrayal of Tom Fitzgerald. I absolutely hated him, so job well done. (I would have <i>loved </i>to see some recognition for Will Poulter in this category as well. If Leo was this picture's grit, that kid from <i>We're the Millers </i>was its heart. Maybe he'll be recognized with his cast at the SAGs?) <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>I'm personally rooting for Sylvester Stallone as Rocky in <i>Creed. </i>And, no one's ever safe against Christian Bale.</div>
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<b>Best Actor: </b>I've been rooting for Leo's Oscar since <i>What's Eating Gilbert Grape.</i> This year is his best chance at being rewarded for his best role to date. <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>Eddie Redmayne in <i>The Danish Girl</i>. I cannot find a more sensitive way to say this; but he went full trans at a time when it is very trendy to do so.</div>
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<b>Best Picture: </b>Add together all my endorsements above and this should equal a Best Picture statue to have and to hold. <b>Toughest Competition in this Category: </b>*crickets*</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-40742896373148829262015-09-05T04:04:00.000-04:002015-09-05T16:53:14.717-04:0041... and Done!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was just reading over <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/09/thoughts-on-forty.html" target="_blank">last year's birthday post</a>... and, wow! I really sucked at turning 40!</div>
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What is it about that milestone that does so much damage to a woman's psyche?</div>
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As I ring in 41 this week, let's look back at the <b>kind:cruel ratio</b> that was my Year of Forty.</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Quickest Mid-Life Crisis in History:</b> I whined, complained and threw cyber-tantrums as I crested the middle-aged slope and fell directly off its cliff. It was a quick freefall and then I was like, "Oh, sorry about that world!" and went back about my regularly-scheduled business. I like to think that what it lacked in longevity it made up for explosiveness. Was it fair to the world? No. But the world survived it, so I'm over it too. </li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://40yearoldpropertyvirgin.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-first-two-days.html" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Finally Found a Home</a><b>:</b> The last thing on my <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/08/40-year-old-property-virgin.html" target="_blank">"40" bucket list</a> was to purchase real estate and be living in said real estate by the end of the year. Due to my stubbornness over price and location, it took me an entire year of <a href="http://40yearoldpropertyvirgin.blogspot.com/2014/06/house-hunting-is-load-of-crap.html" target="_blank">house</a>-<a href="http://40yearoldpropertyvirgin.blogspot.com/2014/07/house-hunting-part-ii.html" target="_blank">hunting</a> to achieve this final tick mark. (Not to mention, four different mailing addresses in the same amount of time. Believe me when I say that my year of homelessness is still confusing the local post office!) So, does signing the deed at the age of 40.8 still make the cut? It counts in my book! And, being stubborn paid off. I'm in exactly the location I had my heart set on and actually came in under budget, too!</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>My Boobs are Playing Tricks on Me: </b>It seems like much more than a year ago that I had my <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/07/rite-of-passage.html" target="_blank">first breast cancer scare</a>, but it was just last summer. Tacky as it may have seemed to some when I decided to share that journey; the conversations it started among friends and family really proved to be worth the embarrassing exchange. (<a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/07/rite-of-passage.html" target="_blank">Click link</a> for a recap. To those who missed the follow-up, it was just a cyst in the end!) It seems most women at this age have had their "scares" and for someone who once favored male friendships over female, it really proved to me the necessity of the female-sisterhood. (Love you, ladies!) In other boob news, is there a once-a-decade law of physics that is keeping the bra industry in business?! It happened at thirty when the elasticity of the dermis began to betray me. New bra size! Must go shopping! And, here it is again at forty. Holy tit! As if gravity weren't enough of a foe, they've now decided to go running off in opposite directions! It's like each side is in a race to see who can reach my back first by the age of fifty!* And, of course, hello! New bra size again! This is getting old business is expensive business.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQj9fTutv3RyA27ZpXZXpGHTsGxU4vmlRNufbwQryHyMT06ydoCEa0_mC-5cQclcLClxJyGsLgaFB4-Uc1AU3WA4kKGxHeK8LS5bbpldRGkrXpTRVFiFLwRm6uUGk9Y7SdmjTYs-81sC3/s1600/Weight+Loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQj9fTutv3RyA27ZpXZXpGHTsGxU4vmlRNufbwQryHyMT06ydoCEa0_mC-5cQclcLClxJyGsLgaFB4-Uc1AU3WA4kKGxHeK8LS5bbpldRGkrXpTRVFiFLwRm6uUGk9Y7SdmjTYs-81sC3/s320/Weight+Loss.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somehow, this is the only Before/After depiction I could<br />
find on my laptop!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b><a href="http://40yearoldpropertyvirgin.blogspot.com/2015/04/rejection-weight-loss-and-living-out-of.html" target="_blank">Lost Weight</a>:</b> I have always been cursed in the weight department. (By "American fashion" standards, at least.) I was a tall gangly child, who got called "String Bean", "Carpenter's Dream"** and the like, more often than necessary. (It's <i>really </i>not necessary to comment on children's body types. Ever. Or, anyone's, for that matter. Will the world never learn?!) Once puberty hit, I was hippy and bootylicious during the entire Kate Moss waif trend. Then, totally missing the boat on both ends, my body chose to revert back to waify twelve-year old proportions in middle-age, just in time to usher in the decade of the butt. I literally cried*** when that Meghan Trainor song was released because it was so catchy that I wanted to sing along, but in order to do so I had to call out "<i>Skinny bitches</i>"**** and lyrically agree that "<i>Boys like a little more booty to hold at night.</i>♫" Which leads me to publicly present a challenge to today's pop stars. It's great to celebrate all body types! But, please realize that you can celebrate yours without shaming others in return. Hear that, Meghan? Nicki? Other girls whose names I forgot because I'm not entirely up to date on pop music?</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAU_Vz60tbFGF37uKqR02IlPiZOeWfBHjqNj5tGauBsne_cEtQOIRfOs8F66qu07N_pstkFJNrZVeUlat-10gaPwcnmZPDxGM81tD8F1eEjY7yZQBUzwnnQXGvrgZSeRbWcHREY-JlpHk/s1600/filter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAU_Vz60tbFGF37uKqR02IlPiZOeWfBHjqNj5tGauBsne_cEtQOIRfOs8F66qu07N_pstkFJNrZVeUlat-10gaPwcnmZPDxGM81tD8F1eEjY7yZQBUzwnnQXGvrgZSeRbWcHREY-JlpHk/s320/filter.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Lost My Filter: </b>My filter has slowly been slipping away from me since my twenties. The decline has only increased in rapidity at 40. I probably cuss more than I should. I definitely <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/04/things-i-need-to-calm-down-about.html" target="_blank">give more unsolicited advice than I should</a>. I fast-tracked from age 39 to 80 in my comfort level of thinking I'm old enough to not have to censor myself. Which is not necessarily a good thing, I do realize. On the upside, it's caused me take better care of my self-worth. If somebody wrongs me, I suddenly have no problem calling them out on it. Which is something I could have never <i>dreamed </i>of doing half-a-lifetime ago. Has it made me popular? Of course not! But, it's sharpened my true friendships and pinched off the ones that were sapping my reserves. Forty had no time for drama. And, forty-one's schedule is looking pretty booked as well. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKANZzoXot-Li6l_F5QnbL2wGN2VD-8RzxcZRZus6juxx_kuQFnqtWOxPsBtxfvBnQjZNyalMt91UjUm6MthN-cATLSRwW_EPl-DWVKWp1EwLyH5cdkTNZY8gXBjCKasdXB8N96eiVdoXl/s1600/77MeGma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKANZzoXot-Li6l_F5QnbL2wGN2VD-8RzxcZRZus6juxx_kuQFnqtWOxPsBtxfvBnQjZNyalMt91UjUm6MthN-cATLSRwW_EPl-DWVKWp1EwLyH5cdkTNZY8gXBjCKasdXB8N96eiVdoXl/s320/77MeGma.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Lost My Grandma: </b>Forty was a terrible year of loss for my family. Both sides lost their last matriarchs. Not just that, but personally my biggest cheerleaders as well. Through all the sadness, I had the privilege of sitting with <a href="http://auntswalk.blogspot.com/2015/06/let-me-tell-you-about-my-grandma.html" target="_blank">my Grandma</a> in hospice during her last weeks on this earth. I received from her the best compliments of my entire lifetime and advice that I will cherish forever and ever. Though, it was exhausting, I still miss her every day and have never fully finished grieving over that loss. As my birthday draws near, I will miss that yearly card from her where she would underline in ink pen every word in the lame Hallmark poem that reminded her of me. And, I will forever regret every year that I was too lazy to call and thank her for thinking of me.</li>
</ul>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Lost My Way: </b>This year, I decided to be good. Again. Like, <i>daily</i>. Constantly renewing that pledge. Every morning, asking God for a clean slate and yet another do-over. I'm learning to not only speak more kindly, act more kindly and (most importantly) <i>react </i>more kindly. (Powder Keg Mecham, at your service!) I'm really focusing on <i>thinking </i>more kindly, so there are no judgmental or unfriendly comments rooted anywhere to have any chance of slipping out. This used to come so naturally for me, which means my heart must have slipped into an ungrateful place somewhere along the way. I have decades-old walls I'm breaking down. Bear with me! They were there for good reason, but I've grown too old and tired to keep holding them up. I've heard unkind things about myself this year. I don't want to produce that same kind of hurt in others. If I love you, I'll show it. If I give you a compliment, I really <i>mean </i>it. There's no sugar-coating. I'm too lazy to waste my breath like that. </li>
</ul>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Gave in to the Stereotype and Became a Fur Mama: </b>Forty and single equals <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/07/life-cat.html" target="_blank">cat mama</a>... Der! I absolutely adore this girl. And, she seems to tolerate me in exchange. (Although, she's currently glaring at me for having the light on this late at night and impeding upon her 22nd hour of sleep for the day.) Is it cheesy to say she completes me? No, just creepy? Well, thanks for keepin' it real. </li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b>
<b>So, <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/09/thoughts-on-forty.html" target="_blank">last year's post</a>... </b>What did I know? I was just a young 39.99 year-old when I wrote it. Little did I know 40 was bringing with it the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. If this trend keeps up, 41 may possibly leave me with whiplash!*****</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, seeing that I won't see another milestone for nine years is quite a relief. What's on my "50" bucket list, you ask? Let's just start with "Not Dying" and take it from there.******<br />
<br />
No pressure this decade.</div>
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<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
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*Okay, maybe <i>slight </i>exaggeration on my part. They're still pretty cute for their age. Supported or not. And, <i>healthy</i>, most importantly!</div>
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<br /></div>
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**ie. Flat as a board.</div>
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***Disclaimer: Hormone surges may also be partly at fault for tears.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
****Don't argue that the following, ".<i>..Just playin' , I know you think you're fat.</i>♫" lyric makes up for this. No, we don't think we're fat. We're now just doubting our desirability thanks to your insensitive lyrics. Big or small, booties are soft to the touch... and <i>that's </i>what really matters. Trust me, I'm older and wiser. There's no need to cut others down to build yourself up. Lecture over!<br />
<br />
*****<i><a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/02/oscar-picks-2015.html" target="_blank">Whiplash</a>. </i>Best movie of my fortieth year. Go see it!<br />
<br />
******And, less footnotes. :)</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-12579279741094931772015-09-01T22:30:00.001-04:002015-09-05T10:55:27.274-04:00Love Thy Neighbor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rl1Qp4EbUzbfKHZyLSXoPMcnSQlnWB_K__kyPAskGNrRhm5q3t8ub6nMBoxny2jQEMxy9U2RM2qQUKdunvAfxNwn63N-CP_9zVlMOGRGzV2v44lUu4kHqsF__dYZZ-e7uTzBsJB9a1MP/s1600/doormat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rl1Qp4EbUzbfKHZyLSXoPMcnSQlnWB_K__kyPAskGNrRhm5q3t8ub6nMBoxny2jQEMxy9U2RM2qQUKdunvAfxNwn63N-CP_9zVlMOGRGzV2v44lUu4kHqsF__dYZZ-e7uTzBsJB9a1MP/s320/doormat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i style="text-align: justify;"><br /></i>
<i style="text-align: justify;">Somebody just got shot! Somebody just got cut! Somebody just got hit by a car!</i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I didn't know what <i>exactly</i> had happened. But, the manly screams and moans coming from the driveway of my condominium complex told my wild imagination that something of the like was going on.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I took my usual nosy neighbor position: Standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of my Florida room, backed to the corner as to remain inconspicuous.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"UGH! AUGH! [MOOOOOAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!]," it continued.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I couldn't quite spot the source of the commotion, but could hear another neighbor shout out, "Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?"</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"NO!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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I've now pinpointed the screamer's voice to be coming from behind the large pine tree that stands in front of the neighboring building.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt safe enough to move to the Adirondack chair that is placed with its back to the window. Closer to the "danger", but out of sight with my nose peering above the back of the chair.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Where are you?!" the helpful neighbor hollered out. It was after dark.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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I could hear him now shuffling behind the tree. He found him! The source of all the belly-aching!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After some clattering and grunting, I finally <i>saw </i>something. A thirty-something year-old man walking a bike to the other side of the complex, with a late-teen/early-twenty-something male limping slowly behind him.<br />
<br />
No one was shot. Someone had fallen off of their bicycle. I was safe from any crossfire.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Good Samaritan would continuously stop and wait until the injured party could catch up to him again. G.S. (Good Samaritan) walked I.B. (Injured Biker) all the way home.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Mystery solved (although anticlimactic...) I smiled at what a good neighbor G.S. was.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, what kind of neighbor was I?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I could have just as easily hollered down to see if I.B. was okay. I just didn't want to get involved. I was willing to risk bullets whizzing by the nose I had stuck into his business, but not the inconvenience of getting dressed and going downstairs to actually check on things and offer some assistance.<br />
<br />
Let's break down what kind of neighbor I am.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
These are the things I like about my neighborhood: 1.) Awesome location. It's walking distance to a small downtown with a city park and decent enough smattering of shops and restaurants. 2.) There are enough neighbors around to not feel isolated. As a single woman, it's assuring to know that if <i>I</i> ever needed to shout for help, someone wouldn't be too far away. 3.) These neighbors seem to keep to themselves. Which, for an introvert like me, is ideal.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No one brought pies to my doorstep when I moved in. No one has tried inviting me to dinner. And, this is fine! I'm not expected to provide dinner in return.<br />
<br />
I've been to two board meetings, but only remember one board member's name. (I<i> think </i>I remember what it is, at least.)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've met three neighbors since moving in two months ago. Only one of them offered a name (after a month-and-a-half.) It's not an American name and begins with an "N" sound. I'm pretty sure with two syllables.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The neighbors I've met are:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1.) "Pitbull". I don't know his real name, but he looks, dresses and acts like the rapper Pitbull. He wears tinted shades like Pitbull. He talks with the Hispanic swag of Pitbull. He rides his bike low, as I imagine Pitbull would, were his Mercedes ever to break down on him. And, I honestly think he would answer to "Pitbull" were he ever to be beckoned by that.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Pitbull has a sweet-natured girlfriend. She is also Hispanic and she always smiles and says "Hi!" if we cross paths. She even smiles and says, "Hi!" when Pitbull's bickering with her in the doorway and not letting her inside. Pitbull was wearing his bathrobe that day. Pitbull thinks he's God's gift. I'm not sure that he is. I once saw his girlfriend bring a plate of food to another neighbor. I'm not sure his girlfriend even lives there. But, she <i>does</i> seem like God's gift. And, a good neighbor. Whatever her name is.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2.) The blonde hermit, next door. I've seen her three times total. She writes lengthy letters to the Homeowners Association but doesn't come to the meetings, even though they take place in the room directly beneath her unit. She left a note on my door one day. How sweet! Oh, she was just inquiring about the paint fumes coming from my unit. I was painting kitchen chairs at the time. She almost rolled me over with her car in the parking garage later that same day. It was just an accident. I'm sure of it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3.) N-something. She's a Muslim woman. Maybe my age or a bit younger. Her unit is like a clown car, with countless relatives always pouring out of it. She has at least three children, one husband and maybe a mother or mother-in-law who live with her. With the constant stream of visitors, I'm not really sure who goes where. She was the first to offer her name. But, her accent was so thick, I only caught the opening "N". I need to find a better code name for her. She is nice. And, loses alot of little socks in the laundry room.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are three other units in my building. I have not bumped into any of these neighbors in eight weeks.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is another building adjoining mine. I share a bedroom wall with a Middle-Eastern family. They have a baby who cries sweetly at night. Only sometimes. And, never a screamer. He's a good neighbor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
His parents fight once every week or two. Sometimes light murmuring. Sometimes shouting matches. Always at night. Sometimes at 2:00 or 3:00 am, jolting me out of my sleep. They're not fighting in English, so I can't really eavesdrop. Which is all I have left to do once I'm awoken and can't go back to sleep. If only I could take sides. If only they didn't wake the baby again.<br />
<br />
This leaves me to wonder which neighbor I am. Only one of them knows my name. I'm probably the American girl who starts with a "K" sound.<br />
<br />
I'm probably the one who sings too much in the kitchen and who is talking to who-knows-who in the shower*. The lady with the big white SUV. The one who walks upstairs too loudly. The woman with the nosy cat.<br />
<br />
I'm the one who made too much noise moving in and will never be forgiven.<br />
<br />
The lady who yells at her nephews on Sunday afternoons. Why doesn't she close the windows at least?<br />
<br />
The girl whose still in her p.j.s at eleven a.m. on the weekend. What kind of slacker is she?<br />
<br />
She hasn't even introduced herself. She watches that TV all night. Blogs about her neighbors. And, I saw her watch that boy who fell off his bike out her window and not even offer him a Band-Aid.<br />
<br />
The Bible says, to "...Love your neighbor as yourself. No commandment is greater than these." [Mark 12:31] I love myself, no doubt. But, for now, I'm at the stage were my neighbors are just a'ight.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I.B. is okay. And, I'm glad there's at least one G.S. in the hood... just in case I fall down one of these days.<br />
<br />
One day I'll be the G.S., I think.<br />
<br />
Maybe. <i>One</i> day...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*Answer: Myself or the cat.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-88751647384166115572015-07-25T14:30:00.002-04:002015-08-27T00:08:02.761-04:00Life + Cat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">So, I may have jumped the gun on something. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Before I have finished unpacking... Before I've refinished all the furniture or have gotten things totally organized and settled... I went and invited this little furry turd to come live with me.</span></div>
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"<i>Oh, furry turd?! Kim, you're so cruel!"</i></div>
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Yeah, yeah... she's cute in pictures, but let's run through her first night here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWnsHVD_cogV34lyStFTQMOARDD46v5hvmHsrUGVfnbtWkOK3kXsZiGnhv4TJYcwO446lPph21wXNkTwKGme9G1jhqBUJDqQmXhYADMb8GbPoMWCr4Pt-9Gx5dc5dD8PFTmgIVQDcwxVbU/s1600/1stDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="81" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWnsHVD_cogV34lyStFTQMOARDD46v5hvmHsrUGVfnbtWkOK3kXsZiGnhv4TJYcwO446lPph21wXNkTwKGme9G1jhqBUJDqQmXhYADMb8GbPoMWCr4Pt-9Gx5dc5dD8PFTmgIVQDcwxVbU/s400/1stDay.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li><b>11:00 pm:</b> Lights out.</li>
<li><b>11:01 pm:</b> Repetitive meowing from Cat.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>11:02 pm-4:00 am:</b> Horrendously repetitive meowing/squawking/live exorcism taking place out in the Florida room.</li>
<li><b>4:01 am:</b> Human worries for the sleep of the entire neighborhood, slams both doorwalls shut and chastises, "<i style="font-weight: bold;">Now NOBODY gets to enjoy the fresh air!!!</i>"</li>
<li><b>5:00 am:</b> Cat scales every piece of furniture in the living room.</li>
<li><b>6:30 am:</b> Cat discovers alarm clock on nightstand. Human fears her stepping on the "alarm off" button and deactivating it. But, Human needn't worry about waking up, because Human hasn't fallen asleep yet.</li>
<li><b>8:30 am-5:30 pm: </b>Human is excessively grumpy due to lack of sleep and manages to avoid most human contact for an entire work day. Forgets the word "brass" at one point and refers to it as "the one that's like gold, but uglier. I forget the word. I just said in two minutes ago, but can't think of it now. You know..."</li>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NuNQSOQ8sQ76cfJTg_lUkuhcFNCk1IB1pPiFoTwQzzi6Wf1fm3pVU2nV5A69bzH0v8l42SuvXutW_2s2g6QIm64pUUsiRbLu6I4yGpGo8tHlM4-vesM7Nut3KyI4Mo-iM76G7znTXSGh/s1600/P1070756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NuNQSOQ8sQ76cfJTg_lUkuhcFNCk1IB1pPiFoTwQzzi6Wf1fm3pVU2nV5A69bzH0v8l42SuvXutW_2s2g6QIm64pUUsiRbLu6I4yGpGo8tHlM4-vesM7Nut3KyI4Mo-iM76G7znTXSGh/s320/P1070756.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">In Cat's defense, Human may have provided cat nip right before bedtime...</td></tr>
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Day Two went a little more smoothly. She didn't greet me when I got home and was hiding under the bed. She still hadn't eaten, but there were signs of piddle in the litter box.</div>
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Night Two was a total 180. She stayed out in her favorite spot (kitty condo in the FL room) for what sounded like (or I should say, "lack of sounded") the entire night.</div>
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By the time I got home on Day Three, she had made herself at home. Food, eaten. Water, drunken. Litter box, pooped in. We were in kitty business!</div>
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That's not to say it's a perfect arrangement. We've had alot of "Seriously?!", "What?" conversations.</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Like when she...</span></div>
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Climbs things:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadEGW8T1bh57hyphenhyphenzP4ySxN97Lw7w7kA3_E62BgXJg9M6P5_yaO0DcoK9xN_ufmRo40G0yJCYOFxS3k_wAQUnseJX32hm3hyphenhyphen6BVkyxZKwPBN_KzE2C5WGFYil0q9JRgZstAoxiX5HCrEbQO/s1600/SW3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadEGW8T1bh57hyphenhyphenzP4ySxN97Lw7w7kA3_E62BgXJg9M6P5_yaO0DcoK9xN_ufmRo40G0yJCYOFxS3k_wAQUnseJX32hm3hyphenhyphen6BVkyxZKwPBN_KzE2C5WGFYil0q9JRgZstAoxiX5HCrEbQO/s400/SW3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hogs the couch:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXF92DwP3g1UX5gTrdYfFgqctFZtBOwzAP_PV_2VOLjp8uEH74qeezCZrm3x74eJlHPdBxfMOE0-vsR56RBM-R6MJ27JDsUx6OWseoPbl5hwQ2Ffiy4h2-rERzU8e96CGXaUQlDWDh-6L/s1600/SW2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXF92DwP3g1UX5gTrdYfFgqctFZtBOwzAP_PV_2VOLjp8uEH74qeezCZrm3x74eJlHPdBxfMOE0-vsR56RBM-R6MJ27JDsUx6OWseoPbl5hwQ2Ffiy4h2-rERzU8e96CGXaUQlDWDh-6L/s400/SW2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Climbs more things:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WQQ7RWuZ_2ZRFRXMPThHLnS9I1gILcvIwW6j5L8_YEk8rix95vvXFqKnYOIOrQRxsOqUsG5b6rGsLkwz1B7X3J42paij1DMp30rd9FtGawv36REbCNB-spKBfHJIg0rWTNZCNS_bGYJ3/s1600/SW1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WQQ7RWuZ_2ZRFRXMPThHLnS9I1gILcvIwW6j5L8_YEk8rix95vvXFqKnYOIOrQRxsOqUsG5b6rGsLkwz1B7X3J42paij1DMp30rd9FtGawv36REbCNB-spKBfHJIg0rWTNZCNS_bGYJ3/s320/SW1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Impedes with my morning process:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1Q0qeByUq8uGY_OAXHZnCDJUpgVlv03rtrmMR5ncjHR2PM8xAHbkw61BD1XXRMi9jOzC1mshYn40ylSLOOdyuCc8dShSygLJt5RLmCqEkjd3WToXffTN_33gpgY33K9Fn-M0PzkQ5YYq/s1600/SW4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW1Q0qeByUq8uGY_OAXHZnCDJUpgVlv03rtrmMR5ncjHR2PM8xAHbkw61BD1XXRMi9jOzC1mshYn40ylSLOOdyuCc8dShSygLJt5RLmCqEkjd3WToXffTN_33gpgY33K9Fn-M0PzkQ5YYq/s320/SW4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">I <i>cannot </i>go to work looking like that!</td></tr>
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Etc.:</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjMqeZfZD31oJkD2aGZw8PUJHT4PbbSyvE-inR-sEz1S7jPmMZbSQkSw_cd0fDpL-FVVrh7tvx5vHdl0E0-D6SWrUaAZ6C2B8poOs_taotqJwnysePrKiBl8nY0dkQpYoc2NJJbcdYZ6w/s1600/SW5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjMqeZfZD31oJkD2aGZw8PUJHT4PbbSyvE-inR-sEz1S7jPmMZbSQkSw_cd0fDpL-FVVrh7tvx5vHdl0E0-D6SWrUaAZ6C2B8poOs_taotqJwnysePrKiBl8nY0dkQpYoc2NJJbcdYZ6w/s400/SW5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Last minute addition, from ten minutes ago.</td></tr>
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I've been reintroduced to cat allergies that have laid dormant for the past five petless years. I've added extra chores to the daily list. She's decided it's fun to refrain from retracting her claws when she walks, so she goes around the house sounding like steel velcro as she crosses the carpet... the bed... my <i>brand new couch</i>!!!</div>
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She kicks her litter all over the bathroom. Sticks her bumhole in my face as a sign of supposed affection. She gives looks of teenage indifference when I scold her. <span style="text-align: left;">But, I've found my owns ways to even the scorecard:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTjK6_8Gy951mfHFqNNdJPtCFsS1RokzC9BQpPIkX8yeEtNn_EIxNbxHwU_sz93X1w6xS0g_UUm14Mv77SqAunrFd3KZBnuquo_cwbwW9aBXJPzQY6RSYn6uiJwwh70l7A6p47S2ZAYHI/s1600/SW6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTjK6_8Gy951mfHFqNNdJPtCFsS1RokzC9BQpPIkX8yeEtNn_EIxNbxHwU_sz93X1w6xS0g_UUm14Mv77SqAunrFd3KZBnuquo_cwbwW9aBXJPzQY6RSYn6uiJwwh70l7A6p47S2ZAYHI/s400/SW6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I've had passing thoughts of, "What have I gotten myself into?", "Do I want to spend the next twelve years of my life itchy-eyed, snotty-nosed and incapable of breathing?", "Is she too old to be declawed? If so, can I have her feet amputated?", "Do I really want to be a mom?", "Would they take her back if I ask?"</div>
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But, as I was laying in bed this morning, in comes Cat. Steel velcro prancing across my new bedding. She mewed for breakfast and I tried to forcefully hug her to buy a few minutes. She pulled away, stuck that bumhole in my face, then proceeded to purr and rub her head all over me as I pretended to be sleeping. </div>
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She climbed across my legs. Hugged her side against mine. Purred to almost pornographic degrees. Then took a lap across my nightstand and quietly lied down. She'd decided I could sleep. She would allow it.</div>
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She reminded me exactly of myself when I'm not the hugger, but the huggee.</div>
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And, I <i>too</i>, like to keep my own schedule. I <i>too</i>, would rather hide under the bed some days. I like to go <i>where</i> I want, <i>when</i> I want. I like to act like I own the joint wherever I go, 'cause it makes me feel comfortable. I too, invoke "Seriously?!" in others, and reply with my own "What"s.</div>
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She's independent. Sassy. Loves fiercely once she decides your worthy of her love. Is affectionate on her own terms. Loves to sleep. Is thoughtful when it counts. And, is silly as can be. Wait a second... this cat is ME. I can't get rid of me!</div>
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In other words, she's a keeper. Seriously.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0gsZg1ckRmXRXuKbRiUUeVYqs8cmakCAokT0PLdBoU_bnY6tuLd7AdXu4d9IfRdwq-K36Gm-q42G0z-gkxogexRLC1VL5xUgqLvn6K5VviBYxAmBJPdMttWYctht7rgLHgp3YhEjf4Bw/s1600/P1070740.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0gsZg1ckRmXRXuKbRiUUeVYqs8cmakCAokT0PLdBoU_bnY6tuLd7AdXu4d9IfRdwq-K36Gm-q42G0z-gkxogexRLC1VL5xUgqLvn6K5VviBYxAmBJPdMttWYctht7rgLHgp3YhEjf4Bw/s320/P1070740.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-5363069390404641382015-06-10T22:37:00.003-04:002017-04-30T12:49:25.903-04:00Let Me Tell You About My Grandma...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aM1tZgqDMfK6ylFTO01fjU92qFyT4ZgUK3DQCkVCf2vqmgARuNq1R4_CwnFGEaFue-NBL8bRxUEmtIPwm4p_VFh4rwZ6mgR0HThPczDyPnYqqfH5rIfBzyQhnQu_mDZkUKORo8KJOQ3T/s1600/77MeGma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aM1tZgqDMfK6ylFTO01fjU92qFyT4ZgUK3DQCkVCf2vqmgARuNq1R4_CwnFGEaFue-NBL8bRxUEmtIPwm4p_VFh4rwZ6mgR0HThPczDyPnYqqfH5rIfBzyQhnQu_mDZkUKORo8KJOQ3T/s320/77MeGma.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my gal.</td></tr>
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My dear grandmother passed away this week.</div>
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She was my last living grandparent. She was 95 year old. And, once I tell you all about her, you're going to wish you would have known her yourself.</div>
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Here's some things you should know about my grandma.<br />
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<b>She was:</b></div>
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<b>Brave:</b> As a child, had you asked me if I thought my grandma was brave, I would have said, "No way! She doesn't swim and never even learned how to ride a bike. Her hair is always curled and she wears matching shoes and scarves. She's a girly girl. There's nothing brave about that!" I may not have said it all out loud, but I certainly would have thought it. Strongly.</div>
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But, once I became a woman, my grandma shared pieces of her story with me time and time again. The more she shared, the more my opinion of her grew.</div>
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Her parents were Swedish immigrants, fresh off the boat. Her mother embarrassed her growing up by saying things like, "Let's take the hiss to the third floor" instead of using the American term "elevator". She later felt sorry for her mother's struggles in this new land with Swedish being her native tongue and came to have empathy for the barriers that must have caused her. But, when you're a kid---even in the 1920's---you wish your parents would just be cool and use the common term for that man-sized box on the cables.</div>
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She grew up in Topeka, Kansas, surviving the Depression and later "running away" to Detroit. I wish I had paid better attention, so I could give you an age or a year... but just know that she traveled to Detroit to visit a friend and stayed here. Forever. Never looking back.</div>
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It was never clear to me if she traveled here <i>knowing </i>she was to never go home. Was her vacation really a plot? Was she escaping the Dust Bowl? (She was a very much a lady. She would have wanted to keep her dresses clean.) Or, did she just fall in love with the Motor City and cancel her return ticket? My guess is that she was likely in her early twenties, which would have made this the early 1940's. And, that's just not the kind of thing you think of respectable young women in the early 1940's doing.</div>
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She lived right in the city, in an apartment shared with an older female roommate. She lived dollar to dollar and ended up falling in love with a handsome Canadian named Elden. It's okay. Elden was my grandpa. So, this is a love story I'm allowed to know.</div>
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Elden was a bit older than Alice. (Alice is my grandma's name, by the way.) He already had an ex-wife and two children. But, boy, did he sweep her off of her feet! I remember her once swoonily telling me, "Oh, your Grandpa! I thought he looked just like Tyrone Power when we met!" I glanced over at the old man sitting across the room from us, with his big teeth, bushy eyebrows and probable cookie hidden in his breast pocket; and thought to myself, "Okay, Grandma. If you say so..."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz_6-fKI0CZymBoyVi7VgINNP6bKooaQx4UFNT8Cu21U6FZd9O2QftuxVeTOAahFAVqvlWrXogsalm-EyyYUJeODtVJjQo_PBskJvpq93cH9uDPfFgkXNK4S-NlwGh2z0GOmknkwFZQkU/s1600/GpaChair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz_6-fKI0CZymBoyVi7VgINNP6bKooaQx4UFNT8Cu21U6FZd9O2QftuxVeTOAahFAVqvlWrXogsalm-EyyYUJeODtVJjQo_PBskJvpq93cH9uDPfFgkXNK4S-NlwGh2z0GOmknkwFZQkU/s320/GpaChair.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyrone Power? Is that you?</td></tr>
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So, here's my grandma. Hundreds of miles from home. A new wife. A young stepmother. And, soon to become a mother herself. That seems like alot of responsibility for someone of that age. In my generation, at least, it would have been! I was just starting to feel out my moxy in my twenties. She had fully taken on womanhood! Brave indeed.</div>
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She ended up having three girls of her own, which is pretty brave in itself. And, they were three girls from three different molds bearing three very different minds of their own (...just like their mother, now I know.) </div>
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Judging by the stories I've heard, these kids seemed to do whatever they wanted. They were allowed to be adventurous, even if it sometimes meant stitches and/or broken bones.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pile on the pets!</td></tr>
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When I was a kid, we had to beg and barter just to bring one dog and one cat into the house. <i>These </i>girls had <i>several </i>dogs, actual <i>piles </i>of kittens, as well as rabbits and whatever else the cat dragged in (maybe, literally.) One even got away with bringing a <i>horse</i> home from the fairgrounds. <i>A horse, </i>I said! Was she grounded? No way. Just go build a corral and a barn so it has someplace to stay.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piling pets <i>on</i> the horse!</td></tr>
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Brave girls. That's the kind of daughters Grandma would like us all to raise.</div>
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My grandma and I had a special bond. I lived within blocks of her house my entire life (even right next door for about a decade.) So, I got in more "Grandma Time" than the average person. She graduated from authority figure to friend over the course of my lifetime.<br />
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Grandma loved men. I love men too, but my life never revolved around the importance of constantly being in a relationship. She spent the early half of my thirties saddened by the fact that getting married just wasn't at the top of my priority list. To the point that I came to think that she would never die until she saw me married off. In my mind, she could not leave this earth, until she saw I was "taken care of". In some abstract way, I credited her long life to me being stubbornly independent and never "settling down". But, I recently found out how wrong I was.</div>
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I'd never seen Grandma prouder of me than the day I announced that I had put money down on my own place. My <i>own </i>money. For my <i>own </i>home. This was during her first week in hospital, about a month before she passed. I had, after forty years, shown her my own moxy. I now realize that this made her prouder than if I had walked in with a diamond ring on my left hand. I had finally followed her brave lead. She knew I was going to be okay.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Struttin' it out in Topeka</td></tr>
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<b>Stylish: </b>Grandma was a lady's lady and handled herself with a grace and poise I can and will <i>never </i>live up to. She was always put together. Always on her manners. She instinctively knew how to accessorize, from the days that she made her own clothing to the ones where she was able to raid the Hudson's store, downtown. She knew what she was doing and was known for it.</div>
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In the 80's she even had a full-length faux leopard fur coat that I secretly wished I would one day inherit. It's been long-since donated somewhere. *tear*<br />
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She once brazenly told me that she was the first person to put red and brown together. Have you seen that in a fashion magazine? Did you think <i>your </i>grandma started that trend? Well, you're wrong. Grandma was a humble woman and wasn't one to ever want credit for her accomplishments. But, whatever the deal was with brown and red... hands off! She's claimed it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More struttin' in Topeka, this time with a friend!<br />
(Is she wearing all black? Or, brown and red? We'll never know!)</td></tr>
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<b>Funny:</b> We've always thought of Grandpa (the dreamy, Elden) as being the family comedian. You know those Canadians! But, Grandma subtly proved through the years that she could hold her own.<br />
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From the time in the 50's when the neighbor kid wouldn't leave her alone. Peppering her with inane questions left and right as she was just trying to fix her tea, already! She sprinkled in her artificial sweetener, holding in her patience, as the neighbor boy obnoxiously asked, "WHAT'S THAT STUFF YOU'RE PUTTING IN YOUR TEA?!" She calmly answered back, "L.S.D." and went on about her snack.<br />
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She didn't say it to entertain the kid. There was no audience around to chuckle at her wit. She was just giving herself a laugh to get through the day. Also, providing herself with the years-long amusement of wondering if the story made it home to his parents and are they imagining the sweet Baptist woman in the little white house on the corner tripping on psychedelics during her daily afternoon tea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snacking like a lady. But, what's that in her tea?</td></tr>
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When Grandpa got sick with Alzheimer's, she told me about the importance of humor. He was doing strange things, not recognizing us all the time, making little sense when he talked and lost his ability to care for himself. She told me, "Kimmy, you've just got to find something to laugh about every day. If you don't, you'll do nothing but cry."<br />
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So, we laughed. We laughed at his quizzing us on who we were. We turned it into interviews. We laughed when he'd pet the arm of the wingback chair, thinking it was his beloved cat, George. We laughed as he asked me on a date to go dancing, because he didn't remember that I was his granddaughter. (He did a mean Charleston. You would have accepted too!) We laughed when he told us un-p.c. things about women and made up songs with words we weren't allowed to use.<br />
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We laughed our way through his disease, because Grandma gave us the permission to, so it was okay. And, that license helped us survive those difficult years.<br />
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Even in her last weeks, she made me promise again to never lose my sense of humor. She begged, "Kimmy, never stop laughing. We need humor in this life." It was an easy promise to make and keep.<br />
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Especially, two days after her passing, when we opened her obituary to see dear Alice being referred to as a "Loving Father... Grandfather... and Great-Grandfather to fifteen." Oh, we're laughing Grandma. And, so would you be! </div>
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Above all else, <b>She wanted you to know about Jesus:</b> </div>
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Grandma was a Sunday School teacher when I was a child. I was even a student in her class, along with some of my siblings and cousins.<br />
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She grew up Presbyterian, but joined the Baptist church as a Detroiter. Christian is Christian, as far as I'm concerned. It doesn't matter the denomination, but this is how Grandma found God.<br />
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Coming to know the Lord was a turning point in her life. It gave her a holy purpose. It guided her conscience. It gave her comfort in times when the world just doesn't provide that for you. She knew the world's job isn't to look out for us, but God is begging to. That was the most important relationship in her life.<br />
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Because of her faith, generations of people have found faith and comfort in God. She insisted her family know about Him. Not always tactfully so, but this was a lesson and a priceless relationship that we were not going to miss out on, if she had anything to do with it!<br />
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Christianity teaches of salvation (going to Heaven when you die) by faith, as Ephesians 2:8-9 tells us that, <b><i>"By grace are you saved by <u>faith</u> - this is not from yourselves, it is a gift from God - not by works, lest anyone should boast."</i></b><br />
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What drew Grandma to her Christian faith is the assurance it gave her in this salvation. You can <i>know </i>where you're going when you die. You don't have to guess. You don't have to hope. You don't have to cross your fingers and count your good deeds to feel God in your life and receive His gifts. You can <i>actually </i>tap into this guidance while on earth. You can have a living Comforter, when humans fail you. You can have peace in your soul over things others try to complicate.<br />
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Grandma loved to have conversations about God with other believers. She loved talking to others who have that bond of truly living with Christ in their lives.<br />
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We would talk about Heaven sometimes. Grandma was a secretary by trade and she always hated filing. She once told me of her fear that, when she gets to Heaven, she worries God will put her in charge of filing. I said, "Grandma! That doesn't sound like Heaven to me. Where do you think you're going to?" But, she was humble. She had a saving faith that would get her through the pearly gates, but not enough good works, she feared, to get her a sweet gig once she made it there. (Fingers crossed... Heaven has gone paperless by now.)<br />
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I told you Grandma was funny! All the good she'd done in life. All the kindness she showed toward others. She always worried, she didn't do enough. She didn't tell enough people about Christ. She'd outlasted all of her friends and peers, so her work must not be done on earth. What was she missing? She was becoming ready to go Home.<br />
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In all her worry that she didn't do enough, I watched as her family and former students and people that she had touched shared their seeds with others. Roots she'd planted in life ages ago, were now spreading across the world. People who may not have given God a second thought until they'd met her were now sharing the Good News with their children and their loved ones.<br />
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She continued to mentor me, maybe without either of us even realizing it at the time. I began to teach the little ones in my life. I learned to be less legalistic in my own faith. I learned not to sweat the small stuff and let God intercede. I began to allow others to know I had needs (I'm stubborn too!) and became humble enough to ask for prayer when I needed it.<br />
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But, Grandma's favorite lesson of all is what Baptists call the Sinner's Prayer. And, I'm going to briefly share that with you, so Grandma can plant a few more seeds even now that she's gone from this earth.<br />
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As mentioned, our salvation surely comes from our faith. The Sinner's Prayer is the way she came to declare her faith. (Me too!) I'm sure this is not the only way to come to declare one's faith or become a Christian; but we like it because it's simple, not overly-Theological, and it covers all the basis in what we call, the Roman's Road. (A path through the biblical book of Romans that outlines how to "get to Heaven" or "be saved".)<br />
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<b>Step One:</b> Acknowledging your sin. Romans 3:23 tells us that, <b style="font-style: italic;">"All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." </b>We're bad, we're flawed. I don't think any of us could deny this. Even the holiest person you know has had a bad thought, a slip-up, or a moment of vanity that separated them from the perfection of God. This is an easy acknowledgement. <b>To start the Sinner's Prayer</b>, you simply tell God, <i>"I know I'm a sinner. I know I'm not perfect."</i> (Or, your own version of this profession. There are no magic words. Just, with honesty, tell God, "I know I can be bad.")<br />
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<b>Step Two: </b>Acknowledging where sin will get you and the help that He sent for us. Romans 6:23 says, <i style="font-weight: bold;">"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."</i> Romans 5:8, <b><i>"But, God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." </i></b>Because we sin, we deserve to die one day. We deserve to be separated from God and His holiness. <i>BUT, </i>God sent to us a savior, His Son, Jesus Christ. To take on the death caused by our sins (think of the Good Friday story.) "While we were still sinners..." Even though He knows that we're never going to be perfect, He still offered that sacrifice for us, giving us a way to find eternal life. He's not waiting for us to straighten up our act first. He's not requiring any huge life changes to accept this gift. This leads to <b>the next sentence of our prayer</b>, <i>"I'm sorry for the bad I've done. I know I can't get to Heaven on my own. Thank you for sending Jesus as a way."</i><br />
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<b>Step Three: </b>Ask for it!<b><i> </i></b>Romans 10:9,<b style="font-style: italic;">"If you confess with your mouth, Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved."</b> Not only did Jesus die for our sins. But, God raised Him from the dead (think of Easter) to conquer the permanence of death. He proved to us He has power over human death and is offering us eternal life in Heaven, if we're willing to take it. It's free! Romans 10:13, <i style="font-weight: bold;">"For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved." </i>EVERYone. Not just the rich who can afford to give to charity. Not just the goody-goodies who aren't going to drink beer or have sex outside of marriage. Not just the people who commit their lives to professional ministry. ANYone who calls on God can go to Heaven. Even you! Just as you are. <b>Last part of our prayer, </b><i>"Please forgive me for my sins. I want to go to Heaven when I leave this earth. I believe that Jesus was your Son. I thank Him for dying to cover the price of my sins. I believe you rose Him from the dead and I accept your gift of salvation. I invite You into my life today."</i><br />
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Boom! If you prayed that prayer with belief in your heart, you're saved. Grandma would be so happy!<br />
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You now have access to God Almighty. He can give you peace when you ask for it in the most unbearable of circumstances. He can answer your prayers in the most unbelievable of ways. He can give you the best advice by helping you understand The Bible when you're reading it. And, He'll introduce you to my grandma when you go to Heaven one day.<br />
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<b>She got to go Home! </b>Not only did Grandma insist we all learn about Jesus all throughout our lives. She also ended her life proving that He's really here. This came as a great comfort to those of us who've ever wondered if we're wasting our lives believing in this guy that so many refer to as a fairy tale.<br />
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In her hospice room, standing in the corner, she saw Him visit. Sometimes wearing a white robe. Sometimes in what she called His "work clothes". What His work clothes looked like, we may never know. She never described them beyond that. But, obviously, He was doing His work in them, so that's good enough for me!<br />
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She continued to tell people about God and about Jesus, even on her deathbed. I'll bet every nurse and aide that crossed the threshold of her hospice room heard her praise Him.<br />
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One day, when she saw Jesus visit her, He told her that she was going Home soon. And, He didn't lie. She went. He took her Home on Sunday, June 7, 2015.<br />
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He kept her here just long enough to inspire me to write this entry. Then her work was finally done. Because, she found one last way to tell someone about Jesus.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-85063362073229629292015-04-04T15:06:00.002-04:002015-04-04T15:06:30.421-04:00Things You Need to Calm Down About<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Now that I've humbly listed the items that I'm trying to calm down about, I think that warrants me the right to instruct you all to calm down a bit too. (Not all of you, of course... but, if the shoe fits.)</div>
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Things <i>you </i>should calm down about:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Feeling superior and looking down your nose at others' parenting skills, eating habits and tastes in music, movies or TV. </b>Guess what? I was fed baby formula as an infant and lived to tell about! I eat meat and my heart's still ticking! I can't even pronounce quinoa without thinking really hard about it first. (And, couldn't even tell you what it tastes like.) Sometimes pop music, even when overly-manufactured, can be catchy and mood-lifting. We like what we like. We do what we do. Feel free to do the same. (Quietly.)</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Making fun of others' appearances. </b>What's with all the fat-shaming, skinny-shaming, slut-shaming, butt-shaming, clothes-shaming, lip-shaming and hair-color-shaming going on as of late? Are you the same people who wear purple to support Anti-Bullying Day? (I will now take this moment to publicly apologize to the Kardashians for anything I have ever said. I will choose to simply ignore you moving forward.) </li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Thinking it's okay to post racist/discriminatory/hateful comments on social media that is aimed at entire groups of people with whom you've probably never even bothered having human contact with.</b> Yes, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and you have your rights to free speech. But, please realize that this will also give you the right to be outted as a complete a-hole in a public setting. The choice is yours!*</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Misrepresenting <i>my </i>religion as being a shield for your prejudices. </b>Don't be throwing God and Jesus's names all over your hate speech. <i>Especially</i> during our holiest weekend of celebration. You make all Christians look bad when you only represent a minuscule percentage of us. Don't be misquoting Scripture out of context as a defense for your own ignorance. If you <i>really </i>feel that God has called you to hate, maybe you need to crack open that book you've been busy thumping people over the head with and perhaps start by turning to Matthew 22:36-40. Then, when you feel your next rant coming on, how about telling us about something you actually <i>like </i>instead? There's a reason they say the biggest deterrent to Christianity is Christians. Don't be a <a href="http://auntswalk.blogspot.com/2014/03/marks-of-pharisee.html" target="_blank">Pharisee</a>.*</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Trying to interfere with others' religious holiday celebrations. </b>So, you don't celebrate Passover. You don't care for Christmas or Easter. You think we're all fools for believing in a higher power. That's great. Do it over there. Let us enjoy our special days and we won't make fun of your obsession with vampires and zombies.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The N-word. </b>It's the 21st century. Stop saying it. Stop singing it. Stop typing it. No matter what color your skin is. It hurts my ears and my eyes.</li>
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Now take a deep breath... </div>
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Just do as I say... and it will all be a-okay.</div>
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*<span style="font-size: x-small;">If any of these bulletpoints personally offended you and you're now poised to spend a full hour angrily banging out a seething response in your defense; please note that you may want to save your time. If you have any past habit of posting racist statements/memes/"jokes", gay-bashing, or hate speech of any kind... I've probably already blocked you from my Facebook newsfeed and won't see it anyhow. I don't have time for that kind of negativity in my life and you should find a better use for your own time as well.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-56295979503948035512015-04-03T20:06:00.000-04:002015-04-04T14:57:44.419-04:00Things I Need to Calm Down About<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRuLFrD2d42uKuksqLzd8ZnINaAyROXcIhVRdsk2iY7GuR2O1_KJFqmZE3iBYdUXc6NhzGzYB0zq9uFDs6PwiDtCzZqKuX5L4w3qBRcLZvgcOZWdfSBjOx3IVqMHGs2CU_6cJQGedzBE5/s1600/Advice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRuLFrD2d42uKuksqLzd8ZnINaAyROXcIhVRdsk2iY7GuR2O1_KJFqmZE3iBYdUXc6NhzGzYB0zq9uFDs6PwiDtCzZqKuX5L4w3qBRcLZvgcOZWdfSBjOx3IVqMHGs2CU_6cJQGedzBE5/s1600/Advice.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Some things bother me. More than they should.</div>
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I can get rather hot-headed and opinionated. But, since I've decided I have enough gray hair for the time being... Here is a list of things I'll <i>try</i> to calm down about:</div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Getting outbid on eBay. </b>It's not really a contest you're winning if it costs you money.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People not following my advice.</b> If only the world came to realize how wise I am. Don't live and learn. Do as I say!</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People that don't even <i>ask</i> for the advice that is just waiting for them at the tip of my tongue.</b> Why aren't you more confused about your life? Ask me what to do! DON'T THINK I WON'T TELL YOU!</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Conversations that didn't go my way over a decade ago.</b> I came up with 52 better comebacks in the shower that are entirely wasted on the fact that I don't talk to those people any more.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Grammatical errors in social media posts that were initially meant to be deeply thought-provoking. </b>Can a bad speller really be deep? And, why did you not proofread after going through the time and trouble of creating that meme? Couldn't you at least have used your Google search bar as a makeshift spell check? Sigh... Okay. I'll calm down about this by spelling it "gramaterkal eras" and saving it without correcting. *cringe*</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People liking the wrong things.</b> You don't like my show?! How could you not like my show? Maybe you just watched the one episode that had weaker writing than the rest of the stellar examples that aired this season. Maybe you were just tired when you viewed it and your brain wasn't acting so sharp. Give it one more try. I don't care if it comes on past your bedtime. Use the DVR! JUST DO AS I SAY!!!</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People not doing as I say.</b></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People not laughing at my jokes, comments, or physical humor.</b> If you don't laugh, I'm going to just keep doing it harder. The choice is yours.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>What I think you're thinking. </b>I can't guarantee that I can read you thoughts, but I can see your facial expressions and am a pretty good judge of body language. That said, I'm pretty sure that you're mad at me and it's because you're thinking something about me that is not true, unfair or unproven, and your entire opinion of me is a misunderstood one. So, just let me explain... What's that? You're just hungry? Carry on.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People eating things that traumatize me. </b>Ugh. It's green <i>and </i>brown. And, the texture is so creepy-looking. Are they calling that slime, "sauce"? It smells so spicy! Oh well... It's their belly, not mine. Why are you such an empathetic taster?</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Obsessing over the fact that I'm talking to, not only the audience, but also myself in the second person throughout this entire post. </b>It's my calm self's way of reasoning with my rager self. I'm not Sybil! Quit judging me, grammar snobs.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>People who walk through life as living contradictions.</b></li>
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Don't worry. I'm going to lighten up.<br />
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The world can be an annoying place at times, but I know you're not all doing it on purpose.</div>
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Or, <i>are you</i>???</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-2201693179163716002015-03-01T12:38:00.001-05:002015-04-04T15:00:31.231-04:00F.U. Flu!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBBvTmreRqSNpaEBl1Zu3un_N8kHEnNv-ojuSivWrfpP9aOYG31oMNC2rvu43j5Do7E-aJb0FM9a_rh6cmSDla-6erIg6meNs85xUUtegF7LLfidSyTk0jdlWgWmqpDPxSBw5xK8gEed7w/s1600/FluSymptoms.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBBvTmreRqSNpaEBl1Zu3un_N8kHEnNv-ojuSivWrfpP9aOYG31oMNC2rvu43j5Do7E-aJb0FM9a_rh6cmSDla-6erIg6meNs85xUUtegF7LLfidSyTk0jdlWgWmqpDPxSBw5xK8gEed7w/s1600/FluSymptoms.png" height="279" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well, that's a gross image above!</div>
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Even grosser, I've had every one of those symptoms within the past few days.</div>
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The flu is such a pill and an inconvenience, but a great excuse to stay in bed and vegetate.</div>
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In the past four days, I've progressed from feeling a little yucky, to blech, to barf, to "I'd better just stay in bed", to a 12-hour bout with the whiny man-flu (yes, women... it <i>can</i> happen to you), to "I think I can eat again!", to "Why did I just eat that?", to angry dinosaur tummy, to "I <i>really </i>can eat, but why does my body still hurt so badly and why is walking to the bathroom so exhausting?"</div>
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Today's flu stage is a promising one. It's the stage where I've emptied out the DVR, read all of the magazines, ran out of Netflix titles on my list, reached the bottom of my Pinterest feed and have completely explored the Internet in its entirety.</div>
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There is absolutely no other form of entertainment to be found from my bed, (well, there is always blogging... and, so, check!) which means I must now will myself back to health because I've simply become too bored to be sick any longer.</div>
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Yes, my tongue is still white from dehydration. My muscles feel like someone's been practicing electroshock therapy on them. My throat feels as if someone's been scraping it with a salad fork in my sleep. And, I can't tell if I'm still feverish, or if I've simply had my laptop resting on my stomach for too many hours on end.*</div>
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But, I've decided: Today is the day! I will get dressed even! (Yoga pants count as clothes, right?) I will wash (or, at least, <i>change</i>) this germ-ridden bedding! I will walk up and down the stairs without resting in between! I will set the alarm for work tomorrow! I will drink all of the water so my tongue becomes pink again! I will wash my hair and (maybe) shave my legs!</div>
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I will do it all! I think I can, I think I can, I kinda know I maybe can...</div>
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I just need to take one more nap first.</div>
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Zzzzzzzz...</div>
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*Please remember to refer me to this post if, in the future, you ever hear me whining of a sudden and unexplained bout with infertility. I fear this laptop may have fried my eggs as well.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-13362750866608674012015-02-22T02:22:00.002-05:002015-06-11T00:26:23.858-04:00Oscar Picks 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm very proud of myself this year, for getting out to see five (yes, count 'em , a whopping FIVE) of the best picture nominees. This is a new record for me, pre-award show.<br />
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So, guess what that means. I've got more opinions than ever this year!<br />
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Here we go with my picks (<i>not </i>predictions...):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJUjuc_5DNemSHkb3EedBqiD_ZdT1GjpCSilL-U1jakXKyUtts9X-KTDhbr-orCm_Wfj5YC-w6iy39Um-AFjDpjIev1k_GQp-6NyQtSY_9TdeTN9AQzxUmwqn__E4RdpPCluFZ-PrAl5I/s1600/birdman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJUjuc_5DNemSHkb3EedBqiD_ZdT1GjpCSilL-U1jakXKyUtts9X-KTDhbr-orCm_Wfj5YC-w6iy39Um-AFjDpjIev1k_GQp-6NyQtSY_9TdeTN9AQzxUmwqn__E4RdpPCluFZ-PrAl5I/s1600/birdman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Cinematography:</b> This year's movie makers upped the game on stunning cinematic quality. My cinematography picks this year are <i>Birdman </i>(quite possibly for the Christmas-lit liquor store scene alone... and since it wasn't nominated in the Production Design category) or <i>Grand Budapest Hotel</i> (because, every Wes Anderson film is a lesson in this art. Duh.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUueKbzFD3c5ooKYdr-svfXhC5Qu05n_SsTvLA6gqIeykM14KIkTcu_ELNYraHJNqW4tVNjWsVI6KXfGuRLlC0Hsd2t95A-T0I5WUxhqWJZWYBB2W_Q6WA5iEwXhkIdgHOgnYxyXNuiB4D/s1600/Whiplash1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUueKbzFD3c5ooKYdr-svfXhC5Qu05n_SsTvLA6gqIeykM14KIkTcu_ELNYraHJNqW4tVNjWsVI6KXfGuRLlC0Hsd2t95A-T0I5WUxhqWJZWYBB2W_Q6WA5iEwXhkIdgHOgnYxyXNuiB4D/s1600/Whiplash1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Film Editing:</b> <i>Whiplash</i> is my unlikely pick. I've never quite seen a music-based film that was shot almost like a war or action movie. Every lick of the drum was like a bullet whizzing by. It was a unique approach and left me impressed. But, I won't cry if <i>American Sniper </i>or <i>Boyhood </i>takes home this trophy either.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD9pzO8Ys3ZnutKSZt-Pv6mjezT80OyLvj8UceFwbtKEq8ZG6nJaEgibLaOAwMHZ4Y5lvlchPf0lp9m8L41CcfW8w2EkBxR97bRw5eckP-_8uODiag1zClUnJiwnG7D8H5yR7Qe53Kyig/s1600/grandbudapest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD9pzO8Ys3ZnutKSZt-Pv6mjezT80OyLvj8UceFwbtKEq8ZG6nJaEgibLaOAwMHZ4Y5lvlchPf0lp9m8L41CcfW8w2EkBxR97bRw5eckP-_8uODiag1zClUnJiwnG7D8H5yR7Qe53Kyig/s1600/grandbudapest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Production Design</b>: <i>Grand Budapest Hotel. </i>Duh. No explanation needed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidO07ZePCADEPa0EKPVL9R5Z8m3XlSTxZQZBlSG2YTLKi9bnLxStaK6J7yMgS_cxVTU97O7pc_oEFMMU8SOIzvIjTslXMZTCQpYQ8qXBFTPe3AaJJ9aXwsNC-3RGYWlOPXioq7MZDaVwI4/s1600/birdman1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidO07ZePCADEPa0EKPVL9R5Z8m3XlSTxZQZBlSG2YTLKi9bnLxStaK6J7yMgS_cxVTU97O7pc_oEFMMU8SOIzvIjTslXMZTCQpYQ8qXBFTPe3AaJJ9aXwsNC-3RGYWlOPXioq7MZDaVwI4/s1600/birdman1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Sound Editing:</b> <i style="font-style: italic;">Birdman </i>I will award for its innovative use of untuned drums and whatever other twanginess that was that put us directly inside the mind of a man that had become unraveled. <i>American Sniper</i> has my honorable mention for its traditional good job in this category.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV17gS8uIP7Eb5qVuPI0-DguXOQKlUUZqolhw5TFy2ccvzKRSjXiUMdjS5MDwxlFknyREhjRbhZuIqLVV387v0f3pehwL43p_gqpmt8NMyQ2obEmqGLhi9_u_tCZFAQuxGF9bOFFeUrVIi/s1600/SniperSound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV17gS8uIP7Eb5qVuPI0-DguXOQKlUUZqolhw5TFy2ccvzKRSjXiUMdjS5MDwxlFknyREhjRbhZuIqLVV387v0f3pehwL43p_gqpmt8NMyQ2obEmqGLhi9_u_tCZFAQuxGF9bOFFeUrVIi/s1600/SniperSound.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sound Mixing:</b> I'm going with <i>Whiplash </i>or <i>American Sniper</i> here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpWmNdX1nJBwhITzWg0jg4HZPJY4-XXWqSEbr-30G5kBSD5HNSVnLHsPOi7Oupn1eT5oUD_-BocBR3knAlFBAl3K4gQhMSUzU2Lx18cCrUPNP1q7Js9yIoB5iX3Yp62T2zy839E1B0I5B/s1600/whiplash2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpWmNdX1nJBwhITzWg0jg4HZPJY4-XXWqSEbr-30G5kBSD5HNSVnLHsPOi7Oupn1eT5oUD_-BocBR3knAlFBAl3K4gQhMSUzU2Lx18cCrUPNP1q7Js9yIoB5iX3Yp62T2zy839E1B0I5B/s1600/whiplash2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Screenplay- Adapted:</b> <i>Whiplash. </i>Are you noticing any trends yet?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigRMjek16v0V0XXDqK6CQuv_KbfAB7ZrIWGgWQGGzv7vh2LrCA_YiwRekbDXFOaHoS35nqsaodXzZJX4qEvMtB29cyBqiAllM6d3igYPBcUt73P-ff3VDw77Gw5vakajNk0hjzaZHFnLGS/s1600/Birdman_Still.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigRMjek16v0V0XXDqK6CQuv_KbfAB7ZrIWGgWQGGzv7vh2LrCA_YiwRekbDXFOaHoS35nqsaodXzZJX4qEvMtB29cyBqiAllM6d3igYPBcUt73P-ff3VDw77Gw5vakajNk0hjzaZHFnLGS/s1600/Birdman_Still.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Screenplay- Original:</b> <i>Boyhood's </i>writing was fine, but<i> </i>seemed very familiar. Like it had possibly lifted dialogue from <i>Dazed and Confused </i>(as well as one liquor store clerk.) I'm going to have to go with <i>Birdman </i>for original screenplay. There was alot of dialogue... <i>good </i>dialogue. And, every actor did an impressive job of reciting it all while riding out those long seamless shots.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqR29K0v92MTQ933FnVcMUsrVRsXfj00mA5_gF5k0JYLuKGo_gvByGgalWmJfpAEC6Z-6eFyT4FAqI9Trs_nSpaVdMlY7Ubon_fp6x1-N8YpgQY5xglE4vbOb5hgfdJLfj-EbAkeELDHO/s1600/grand-budapest-hotel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqR29K0v92MTQ933FnVcMUsrVRsXfj00mA5_gF5k0JYLuKGo_gvByGgalWmJfpAEC6Z-6eFyT4FAqI9Trs_nSpaVdMlY7Ubon_fp6x1-N8YpgQY5xglE4vbOb5hgfdJLfj-EbAkeELDHO/s1600/grand-budapest-hotel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Directing:</b> This year's nominees seemed to be awarded by way of experimentation. We had Alejandro G. Inarittu and his single-shot, steadycam, no room for a breath, experiment with <i>Birdman</i>. Richard Linklater's exhausting twelve year run putting together every scene for <i>Boyhood</i>. The problem is, I'm just not sure if either novelty paid off for me in either case. I'm in the minority, by not thinking the single-shot work in <i>Birdman</i> served its purpose in the way of impressing its audience. Yes, I'm impressed with the endurance of the cast, crew and everyone else involved with making those long, seamless scenes happen. I've read the interviews and understand Inarittu's artistic reasoning for these choices. But, it just didn't do anything for me in the audience. If the timeline of the film was a "real time" situation, I might have went for it. But, it wasn't, so it didn't. It actually, just made me kind of sea-sick. <i>Boyhood</i>, I finally watched last night, just in the nick of time to form a proper opinion. And, again, although I'm impressed with the marathon involved in piecing this film together... I think the actors were great... the story was fine... I just didn't see anything spectacularly over-achieving in the direction, besides a decade-long loyalty to the job. So, I'm tempted to award Wes Anderson in for <i>Grand Budapest Hotel</i>, even though it wasn't my favorite of his films. I always appreciate the hustle and painstaking attention to artistic detail he shows in every one of his movies and maybe it's time he finally gets his Oscar for it. He's got an eyeball like no one else's eyeball.</div>
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<b>Animated Feature: </b><i>Big Hero 6. </i>Hands down. It was like a real movie. Not just a cartoon. I cried... multiple times. I laughed. I got scared. I've referred to this movie as an older kids perfect segue into their next level of movie-watching. And, I meant it.</div>
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<b>Actor in a Leading Role:</b> Michael Keaton (<i>Birdman</i>). And, I will be furious if he doesn't get this one! All of the other nominees are each great actors and all wonderful in their respective roles... but, <i>man</i>, what a comeback! Michael Keaton all the way!</div>
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<b>Actress in a Leading Role:</b> Although I hear these were all fine women's roles this year, none of the pictures really piqued my interest. (Sorry ladies! I know I sound like a total female sellout.) I go to the movies quite a bit. And, I see films to be <i>entertained. </i>So, I don't usually fall under the spell of heavy drama or watching people get sick, go insane or battle demons. I'm glad these roles exist for women actors, I'm just less likely to pony up my ten bucks at their releases. The one film I did catch in this category was <i>Gone Girl</i>. At the time I thought Rosamund Pike was annoyingly melodramatic and over-selling the part. But, by the end of the story you see that's exactly what she was called to do in such a role. I don't see her winning, though, and I'm sure Julianne Moore (<i>Still Alice</i>) will finish out her award season sweep. (P.S. If Jessica Chastain would have been nominated for <i>A Most Violent Year, </i>she would have had my vote.)</div>
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<b>Actor in a Supporting Role:</b> This is my favorite category this year as Ethan Hawke was great in <i>Boyhood, </i>Edward Norton was as flawless as ever in <i>Birdman. </i>I didn't see<i> Foxcatcher</i> but I always love me some Mark Ruffalo. But, the one actor that will absolutely make me cry a thousand rivers if he does not win, is J.K. Simmons in <i>Whiplash.</i> Spectacular. Unfailing. J.K. not only had the best written role of the flock, but put the most into executing it with absolute precision.</div>
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<b>Actress in a Supporting Role:</b> For me, this is a toss up between Patricia Arquette in <i>Boyhood </i>(also my pick for best hair changes) and Emma Stone in <i>Birdman</i>. I hear Laura Dern was great in <i>Wild</i>, although I didn't get a chance to see it in time. The only thing that will tick me off is if Meryl Streep wins for <i>Into the Woods.</i> I love Ms. Streep. She's the best, without question. But, this role? <i>Really?! </i>What was the nomination committee thinking? Just because she was in something this year, doesn't give her a free pass.</div>
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Saving the best for last... [insert drumroll]</div>
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<b>Best Picture: </b>I've seen five. Yes, FIVE, remember. I have a fully formed opinion on this for a change. I've already stated my petty flaws with <i>Boyhood </i>and <i>Birdman</i>. They're not my winners. Even though I loved <i>Birdman, </i>Michael Keaton, Edward Norton, Emma Stone, Zack Galifianakis, Amy Ryan...<i> everyone</i> involved. Since I had any complaint at all... I can't cast my vote for the big prize in its direction. </div>
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I've already stated that <i>Grand Budapest Hotel </i>was not my favorite Wes Anderson movie. So, bye bye. Not my pick. </div>
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I <i>LOVED American Sniper.</i> Absolutely, loved it as my <i>second</i> favorite movie of the season. But, it had three glaring imperfections to me. 1.) Doll baby in the nursery scene. It totally took my head out of the movie. And, it was so obvious! C'mon Clint! 2.) The mile-long bullet shot. Very cool. But, I was suddenly transported from <i>Saving Private Ryan </i>to <i>The Matrix</i>. It didn't match any of the other camera work in the movie. I don't know how else they <i>could </i>have effectively shot that scene. But, not my job. I'm underpaid and in the audience. 3.) My heart soared in the closing credits, but it ended so abruptly for me. Just a sudden one sentence blurb and the movie was over, even though the scene seemed to be still rolling on script. I felt like something may have gotten chopped out at the last second. And, no. I didn't need to see "that" scene. I just felt Mr. Eastwood could have steered the boat to shore more smoothly. It was a sturdy vessel. It knew where it was going.</div>
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So, am I an overly picky movie-goer this year? I'm going to pick my second favorite movie apart and throw its lifeless baby doll to the birds?</div>
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Yes. I can afford to this year. Because there was one film that stood a mile above the others. I have no criticisms of it. It was a flawless masterpiece as far as I'm concerned. And, that movie was... <i>Whiplash!</i></div>
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I was worried I was going to miss out on it completely, as it played it very limited windows in the Detroit-area. Then, when I finally able to get myself to a showing, it was sold out!</div>
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It was months after its release before I actually got a ticket in hand and my butt in a red cushioned seat. Where I then sat through the previews wondering if my months-long anticipation had killed my chances for the film living up to my expectations. 107 minutes later, it had not. </div>
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Impeccable! Beyond expectation. Not one single complaint. Flawlessly cast. Perfectly filmed. The drama had a good build. And, the <i>music</i>... there are just no words. The final drum solo, alone, has me in tears while simultaneously shouting out, "HOLY S**T!!!" (Yes, that actually happened. I'd take this moment to apologize to my fellow audience members, but I believe they were all equally caught up in the rapture and didn't even notice me.)</div>
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Judging by the award season stats... I think this pick is a long shot. But, if the voters really did their job by watching every nominee... If they truly understand and respect their craft... If they can remain unbiased toward popularity contests and awarding their buddies in the field... I hold a small glimmer of hope that maybe, <i>just maybe</i>, my #1 film of 2014 just might have a chance of shaking things up on Sunday.</div>
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Fingers (and drumsticks) crossed!<br />
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(Then go see <i>Whiplash </i>after the show. You won't regret it.)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-22396510022968865002015-01-03T00:56:00.000-05:002015-06-11T00:34:46.771-04:002014 Year in Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Not a best of, not a worst of... just the things I feel like talking at you about in this year's Pop Culture wrap-up.<br />
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And, as always, all <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/kim4216/funny-ha-ha/" target="_blank">red links</a> lead to good things!<br />
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<b>AT THE MOVIES:</b><br />
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>Gone Girl:</b></i> The year's most thrilling, mind-bending, titillating mystery that I really wish I hadn't brought my mother along to see.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>John Wick:</b> </i>A most welcome return to the gratuitous action genre. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnPagmeLm-g" target="_blank">The body count</a>, innumerable. I literally left the theater exhausted. And, if Keanu Reeves can keep up with that much cardio at the age of 50, I have absolutely no excuse for skipping my evening walk.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>Birdman: </b></i>Michael Keaton's back! Michael Keaton is BACK!! And, he's going to win an Oscar! Although, I'm in the minority by having my critiques of some of the directing choices in Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's stunner/comeback vehicle for Keaton<i>, </i>I cannot deny the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0lF1bKZk4g" target="_blank">flawless acting</a> from each and every one of its stars and costars. If this film does not win the prize for Outstanding Cast at this year's SAG Awards, I completely give up on Hollywood.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-style: italic;">The Interview:</b><i> </i>So, I'm not much a fan of stoner comedies, or graphic vulgarity, or needlessly explicit language in film. I am pretty much immune to James Franco's smarm. I hated <i>The 40-Year Old Virgin</i>. I thought <i>Knocked Up </i>was good in concept, but veered off into bad taste once played out. That said, I'm a fan of Seth Rogen as a person (ie. talk show guest) and, potentially, a writer (if he'd put down that bong for five seconds.) I loved <i>Freaks and Geeks</i>. I liked <i>Funny People. </i>But, was I willing to risk terrorist threat to be "in on" his latest endeavor? Apparently so, because I did. And lived to tell about it. Was there drugs? Some. Was it vulgar? Yeah. Was there a needless amount of explicit language? Of course. But, did I laugh? Yes! Surprisingly, alot. I rank it on the same level as <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPxs0Qh72kY" target="_blank">Tropic Thunder</a></i>. If you did not like <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sr9_GfeoCjk" target="_blank">Tropic Thunder</a></i>, you will not like this. If you're still not sure if it's not for you, check out <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbWF3wMFaUQ" target="_blank">Eminem's hilarious cameo</a> and then decide.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b><i>Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part I:</i></b><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>I am so unbelievably hooked on the <i>Hunger Games </i>series for someone who had avoided it for a whole year, based on the mere concept alone. And, as if Jennifer Lawrence wasn't perfect enough with her flawless hair, flawless face, flawless body and hysterical sense of humor. Now we find out <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14H8OzTzne4" target="_blank">she can sing</a> pretty amazingly in a minor key as well. Oh well! It's impossible to hate her. You can only wish to grow up to be just like her. (Even if you're practically twice her age.) </li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAbxOupFdEqQibJnHTLhGP-8je8c6rIh-_YvuifY6dwZkqmvmvDey4xW6z-m3eAq_rxrJ6EE_AGpTOBZetuWrhOQY-g2zHwQLbRgTPNUO4sylx6KYfjWoClNQoZcgJkr23Z4ghQVhsj5QG/s1600/Big-Hero-6-Movie-Reviews1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAbxOupFdEqQibJnHTLhGP-8je8c6rIh-_YvuifY6dwZkqmvmvDey4xW6z-m3eAq_rxrJ6EE_AGpTOBZetuWrhOQY-g2zHwQLbRgTPNUO4sylx6KYfjWoClNQoZcgJkr23Z4ghQVhsj5QG/s1600/Big-Hero-6-Movie-Reviews1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Big Hero 6: </i>I call this the animated movie that offers the perfect segue for kids approaching PG-13 territory. There were explosions, action, drama, laughter and tears. (So many tears! I literally cried a contact lens right out of my eye!) I did have to warn a few younger viewers away from seeing it, though. That villain was a little too creepy for the Disney princess set. (<a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=big+hero+six+scary+villain&rlz=1C1AFAB_enUS489US489&es_sm=93&tbm=isch&imgil=ikJRmQwTDb_bdM%253A%253Bz2KB4XwhplyV_M%253Bhttp%25253A%25252F%25252Fwww.insidethemagic.net%25252F2014%25252F09%25252Fpreview-disney-experiments-big-time-with-big-hero-6-enhancing-the-science-of-animation-in-familiar-superhero-world%25252F&source=iu&pf=m&fir=ikJRmQwTDb_bdM%253A%252Cz2KB4XwhplyV_M%252C_&usg=__YYMjS7f1ycO1J5snI-RpGzsOY_Y%3D&biw=1280&bih=605&ved=0CCkQyjc&ei=zFanVIbqFIaRyATWgIGgAw#facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=ikJRmQwTDb_bdM%253A%3Bz2KB4XwhplyV_M%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.insidethemagic.net%252Fwp-content%252Fuploads%252F2014%252F09%252Fbig-hero-6.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.insidethemagic.net%252F2014%252F09%252Fpreview-disney-experiments-big-time-with-big-hero-6-enhancing-the-science-of-animation-in-familiar-superhero-world%252F%3B630%3B250" target="_blank">Click here</a> for some images to decide for yourself.)</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>And, Let's Talk About This:</b> Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb. </i>One of the worst movies my nephews dragged me to this year, that ended with the most unexpected and heartbreaking goodbye from Robin Williams. (This year's award season In Memoriam is going to be a rough one!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>I Missed It! </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7d_jQycdQGo" target="_blank">Whiplash</a>. </i>Damn you, metro-Detroit theaters and your minuscule window for seeing anything that's not a blockbuster. This one is on the grab-it-as-soon-as-it-comes-to-DVD list.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>Can't Wait for in 2015:</b> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o87gG7ZlEAg" target="_blank">A Most Violent Year</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bP1f_1o-zo" target="_blank">American Sniper</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSNA6-hpKOo" target="_blank">Pitch Perfect 2</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZfs22E7JmI" target="_blank">Inherent Vice</a>, Black Mass </i>and... okay, fine, let's finish it off... <i>Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part II</i><i>.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>IN MUSIC:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<ul>
<li>There were many mentions of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDZX4ooRsWs" target="_blank">butts</a>.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i> Moving on...</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>ON TV:</b></div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4Gl99NYjfk17h2jYXhxzNXCdd0LpKnbfF0v60hLykZOrcBrzOu_u6JkfU84JPL1ylb4PbwT1SW4Ge2mI1KxZicvNNhMdhzwJQfSeQgfguu65cZSuvgGxVGiuJii6bvz5O5KfqhCKMy34/s1600/gotham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4Gl99NYjfk17h2jYXhxzNXCdd0LpKnbfF0v60hLykZOrcBrzOu_u6JkfU84JPL1ylb4PbwT1SW4Ge2mI1KxZicvNNhMdhzwJQfSeQgfguu65cZSuvgGxVGiuJii6bvz5O5KfqhCKMy34/s1600/gotham.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Gotham (Fox): </i>This prequel to all things Batman had me a little nervous at first. How are they going to drag out the legacy of Batman in the twenty or so years it is going to take for young Bruce Wayne to become the Caped Crusader? <i>So </i>many characters crossing paths <i>so </i>soon! But then I simply sat back, relaxed, and learned to enjoy the ride. P.S. Middle-aged <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jmAntvPbzTE" target="_blank">Alfred Pennyworth</a> is a total badass.</li>
</ul>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b><i>Gracepoint (Fox):</i></b><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>The American remake of the UK's <i>Broadchurch </i>miniseries was the biggest nail-biter on the small screen this year. The coastal smalltown murder mystery kept me guessing and defending my case for its entire ten episode duration and provided that best water-cooler talk of 2014. (It's still playing <a href="http://uverse.com/tv/show/gracepoint" target="_blank">On Demand</a> if you missed it!)</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlROyaPu1WwfP6D_sxQ6v8MSadq0HO2kVtwEVE6tJR2b6Jo7Cmd8gkEg0JkNES2pK_q6cTHjHkPRgj_9CYjtVFVv-b0f0zcl4fDqsKrjVjaxxMa-ZG0OId0AZgPBYycSQqDs6b7-shgj76/s1600/drunk+history.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlROyaPu1WwfP6D_sxQ6v8MSadq0HO2kVtwEVE6tJR2b6Jo7Cmd8gkEg0JkNES2pK_q6cTHjHkPRgj_9CYjtVFVv-b0f0zcl4fDqsKrjVjaxxMa-ZG0OId0AZgPBYycSQqDs6b7-shgj76/s1600/drunk+history.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Drunk History (Comedy Central): </b>The biggest belly laughs I had while watching TV this year were while sitting sober and watching drunk people try to explain (in great detail!) some of the biggest historical events in America. Check it out on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gopZ2X4FUiM&list=PL-NxkE34PcwTxSBUU5QioUFjj2dex2n0b" target="_blank">YouTube</a>, <a href="http://www.cc.com/shows/drunk-history" target="_blank">Comedy Central</a> and full episodes now <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Drunk-History-Seasons-1-2/dp/B00NARLVTY" target="_blank">on DVD</a>. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzqfvSjPkLHOxHJ7o1Qlnpg6nePBenk4aqgHEvnLqp2iFpk16mIBbxItHZPnVm7BTXfSyGy3jlOu-fxCFK5_gAUsc3BvtrlJgE62CiXXV9IRNH_5Tgviu6ewUH6STI2olB7eTU4v0aWkV/s1600/Mindy+Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzqfvSjPkLHOxHJ7o1Qlnpg6nePBenk4aqgHEvnLqp2iFpk16mIBbxItHZPnVm7BTXfSyGy3jlOu-fxCFK5_gAUsc3BvtrlJgE62CiXXV9IRNH_5Tgviu6ewUH6STI2olB7eTU4v0aWkV/s1600/Mindy+Project.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-style: italic;">The Mindy Project (Fox): </b>I couldn't get into <i>The Mindy Project </i>in its first season. I felt like it was trying too hard to be the next <i>Ally McBeal </i>or something. But, in its second season, I gave it another chance, once it became more character-centric and less wannabe-chick flick. By Season Three, the show has really hit its stride. And, what?! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsDNzDqp4Nk" target="_blank">Danny Castellano is dancing</a> out of nowhere! What's going on? And, why do I like it so much?!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegKvUScuGM4KSBfUh_dYPw81S9myqoDQQWwSFWiwRZ6CvpSPXCAasI7rzkD3aHm_0BEqKewwkUtORGUbSrLM3Asn-zrtrTu1tbVyszAQKTqgsYDtOfy-38R-QxNegRh1kuvKYbY4yS5eR/s1600/wahlburgers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegKvUScuGM4KSBfUh_dYPw81S9myqoDQQWwSFWiwRZ6CvpSPXCAasI7rzkD3aHm_0BEqKewwkUtORGUbSrLM3Asn-zrtrTu1tbVyszAQKTqgsYDtOfy-38R-QxNegRh1kuvKYbY4yS5eR/s1600/wahlburgers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Wahlburgers (A&E): </i>When Donnie and Mark Wahlberg were growing up in Dorchester, MA, the neighborhood taunters used to call them the "Wahlburgers". So, they grew up, became multi-kazillionaires, then opened a successful chain of burger joints with their older brother Paul. They call the chain Wahlburgers. You may also call it the last laugh. Now <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gCwDp_gPXI" target="_blank">A&E</a> has decided the Wahlberg clan of nine siblings, led by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4y8c6Woc14" target="_blank">matriarch Alma</a>, are entertaining enough to have their own reality show. I agree. Last <i>last </i>laugh. (Also, keep an eye out for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mkd1BdCbbcc" target="_blank">the real Entourage</a>.)</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrIwPYhpWGq8yhzBmKtGXwdUASLOnDRDgDZJG3kSB9gMBV3kz8U6Q3AD087jlCzGuRlG2v3JrLPkiuHZDVg8ZsfdXEdGIlm5K4ny_KJw1fVaplnA3NfJ7fjlz-GpHvnVOLekA0FSXpSI5/s1600/Little+Couple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrIwPYhpWGq8yhzBmKtGXwdUASLOnDRDgDZJG3kSB9gMBV3kz8U6Q3AD087jlCzGuRlG2v3JrLPkiuHZDVg8ZsfdXEdGIlm5K4ny_KJw1fVaplnA3NfJ7fjlz-GpHvnVOLekA0FSXpSI5/s1600/Little+Couple.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">The Little Couple (TLC): </i>Still my vote for the most perfect family on the planet Earth. The 2014 season of <i>The Little Couple</i> led Bill and Jen through the highs of adoption and the lows of Jen's battle with cancer. Your heart will melt for these two (now, four.) And, if I ever met someone who is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTUtB2NInN4" target="_blank">half the man Bill Klein</a> is, I would consider myself the luckiest woman in the world.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ku5dbHeGnb6RtGUT8NL0qtuedrQ7yH2iZG39kiFzk3gjaJmChqiWTTpaN__4YAbi7HpZATb421AE_mSzx6LWPPHBjXLyCy8gAuO3MiEfQuLBreyXGiRa9mZe4qDpTnE9qv4_DEp9jtlN/s1600/simpsons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ku5dbHeGnb6RtGUT8NL0qtuedrQ7yH2iZG39kiFzk3gjaJmChqiWTTpaN__4YAbi7HpZATb421AE_mSzx6LWPPHBjXLyCy8gAuO3MiEfQuLBreyXGiRa9mZe4qDpTnE9qv4_DEp9jtlN/s1600/simpsons.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Every Simpsons Ever (FXX):</i> FXX has found a cure for the Nothing-Is-On blues that can strike at any given time with their seemingly-endless running <i><a href="http://www.simpsonsworld.com/" target="_blank">Every Simpsons Ever</a> </i>marathon.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dta3lijHb6f5IlNneHiXLvJE_25EwQ9gDw9gU3uwGLkDRX8LSKtTGCpfZqRSiEHatGms0nHCx5J2QfwBtUm0CkPc7ha_KLlpAoN-g8AVAvwzdVCxzwsU71Hr4gCMoKGoPpX8nMUhY26D/s1600/Eaten+Alive+Promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dta3lijHb6f5IlNneHiXLvJE_25EwQ9gDw9gU3uwGLkDRX8LSKtTGCpfZqRSiEHatGms0nHCx5J2QfwBtUm0CkPc7ha_KLlpAoN-g8AVAvwzdVCxzwsU71Hr4gCMoKGoPpX8nMUhY26D/s1600/Eaten+Alive+Promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Eaten Alive (Discovery): </i>Did you miss the Discovery Channel's <i>Eaten Alive</i> special? The one where idiot "scientist", Paul Rosolie, volunteers to be "eaten alive" by the largest anaconda on earth, all in the name of conservation and research? Count your blessings. I sat through the two hour ordeal just for you! <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2015/01/that-anaconda-dont-want-none.html" target="_blank">Read about it here</a>.</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>And, Let's Talk About This:</b></i><i><b> </b></i>Duggars getting married left and right. Never before did long skirts and chastity make a spinster feel so... spinstery.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>And, What About That: </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG_2oAWdzWIDYuuRyNOm2rNbUCmmLl4b6rHsFUXBze8Gzna4esgRBLqyJTSvHPs8X5ej2CN6GqU48WGqdqlKHkdYfMgF1I5OY9R_6314oyPuby4JDjF_dT9zwDSgcGyp-iTd9v6pPlC3i/s1600/OscarEllen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG_2oAWdzWIDYuuRyNOm2rNbUCmmLl4b6rHsFUXBze8Gzna4esgRBLqyJTSvHPs8X5ej2CN6GqU48WGqdqlKHkdYfMgF1I5OY9R_6314oyPuby4JDjF_dT9zwDSgcGyp-iTd9v6pPlC3i/s1600/OscarEllen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/03/oscars-2014.html" target="_blank">The Most Entertaining Academy Award Show Ever</a>!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>I Missed It!</b></i><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i><i>True Detective </i>and<i> Fargo. </i>Come on, Netflix! Bring me up to speed already!<br />
<br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Can't Wait for in 2015: </b><i>Breaking Bad</i> prequel, <a href="http://www.bettercallsaul.com/" style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank">Better Call Saul</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>ON THE WEB:</b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKVoomLzyao1fb_BVYi8p-BnjBkqyrQhxlemT85pcJA3f4vZEAn8vEIbAWnZ78Qs7hqqkhUy8nR1SNnzNkwLI4Z9UYE_3OEu72QpDV8Wct1grgFXru9Mk8JmGX-cT_sG1MY05zs2IzuJl/s1600/Listen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKVoomLzyao1fb_BVYi8p-BnjBkqyrQhxlemT85pcJA3f4vZEAn8vEIbAWnZ78Qs7hqqkhUy8nR1SNnzNkwLI4Z9UYE_3OEu72QpDV8Wct1grgFXru9Mk8JmGX-cT_sG1MY05zs2IzuJl/s1600/Listen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TP8RB7UZHKI" target="_blank">Listen Linda</a>... just listen! I can't decide if little Mateo will be going into politics or sales one day. I do know that he will surely find a way to make more money (and cupcakes) than the rest of us, though. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ULfNmk5HPU1QvrsFY4OXsvaNAUR1ytyg_hVhhgLusWS541JliLj4Rr_2MM-2wREvz-EMT3d1FZfl3n8X2qncBh4tuWJ3ZMlP3D3yH0YYHMTy-bmd3sp0acvszyAJ_Iiqvhb4dk4y0Y9k/s1600/gaston.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ULfNmk5HPU1QvrsFY4OXsvaNAUR1ytyg_hVhhgLusWS541JliLj4Rr_2MM-2wREvz-EMT3d1FZfl3n8X2qncBh4tuWJ3ZMlP3D3yH0YYHMTy-bmd3sp0acvszyAJ_Iiqvhb4dk4y0Y9k/s1600/gaston.png" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Bdyzc5sdQo" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Little Girl Picks a Fight With Gaston</a><span style="text-align: left;"> at Disney World. Because that's what you do when you wait in line for over an hour for an autograph!</span></li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Im7lf31rytbuDnIX6y0AC0wJGUbE03OJglKKYwWieKCHVfxlpd3ue9ow3hkrLM9NNzyG_O88rW_HD9YUrzk5Oj2NumJM7R3wSShZgwnbdpH5TcpeOdpmLbDr1mJk3CQ0j4X-VJfHP24/s1600/Gorillas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Im7lf31rytbuDnIX6y0AC0wJGUbE03OJglKKYwWieKCHVfxlpd3ue9ow3hkrLM9NNzyG_O88rW_HD9YUrzk5Oj2NumJM7R3wSShZgwnbdpH5TcpeOdpmLbDr1mJk3CQ0j4X-VJfHP24/s1600/Gorillas.jpg" width="172" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">This meme.</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">These foreign Doritos with "kick".</li>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>OVER-HYPED in 2014 (and so, I refuse to add images):</b></div>
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Ice Bucket Challenge: </b>Newsflash! You can donate money to charity without risking hypothermia.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Shia </b><b>LeBeouf and all his self-produced drama: </b>You're "not famous anymore". So, go away already.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Jaden and Willow Smith: </b><a href="http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/11/17/jaden-and-willow-smith-exclusive-joint-interview/?_r=0" target="_blank">They're so much smarter than us all now</a>. Didn't you hear?</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>George Clooney Wedding:</b> He's found love and is happy. Scandalous!</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Kimye Wedding:</b> I threw up in my mouth a little, then forgot about it.</li>
</ul>
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<b><i>Speaking of throwing up...</i></b></div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Bill Cosby: </b>What is up with you?! I am in mourning for the loss of my TVland reruns. I am also mad on behalf of Cockroach, for you taking away from him the only royalties he makes these days.</li>
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<br />
I am now extremely tired and will lazily conclude with <b>Funny Spellchecks Suggested in the Making of this Post (that, at least, were funny to me at 1:00 am):</b> Birdman = Batman (go figure!); Stoner = stonier; Inarritu's = linearity's; Mockingjay = Mackinac; Gracepoint = grease paint; Wahlberg = wallboard; Wahlburgers = vegeburger; Dorchester = chestier; Netflix = Norfolk; Shia = Shiva; LeBeouf = beef.</div>
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<i><b>See you in 2015!</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-49809344398515912052015-01-03T00:10:00.000-05:002015-01-03T01:47:59.265-05:00That Anaconda Don't Want None<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;"><i style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;"><br /></i></i></div>
<i style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;">
</i><span style="text-align: justify;">Did you miss the Discovery Channel's</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Eaten Alive</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">special? </span><br />
<div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">The one where idiot "scientist", Paul</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span>Rosolie<span style="text-align: justify;">, volunteers to be "eaten alive" by the largest anaconda on earth, all in the name of conservation and research? </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Count your blessings! I sat through the two hour ordeal just for you! </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">About an hour and forty-five minutes of the program were spend traipsing through the "unexplored" regions of the floating forest along the Amazon River, while</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span>Rosolie<span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">and his crew melodramatically tried to catch a snake. All the while both daredevil and his team of scientists vowing their commitment to give their lives for this project, if need somehow be.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Once they finally found a snake they thought large enough to swallow</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span>Rosolie's<span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">big head, ego and all... the remaining fifteen minutes of the show were spent trying to get the poor thing to want to stomach the unsavory meal.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></div>
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Rosolie<span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">was suited in some sort of chainmail and Teflon getup, complete with safety scuba mask.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">The "eating" portion of the program consisted of the anaconda tenderly sucking on the front of Paul's helmet and then wisely deciding it didn't like the taste of bull$h!t anymore than the rest of us do. (Trust me. You got kissed harder on prom night than what this guy experienced during his ordeal.)</span></div>
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<div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">The biggest joke of the special was that the "research" they were performing was to measure the psi pressure that a snake of this size would use to squash his victim. (Because, this has never been measured on a snake quite this size before! He repeatedly assures us!)</span><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">A psi sensor patch was adhered to the back of his safety suit somewhere between his shoulder blades. Hilariously, the snake squeezed him every which way but on the patch.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Even more hilariously, the man who spend 1 hr 45 min swearing to us that he would die for the experiment, tapped out once he felt his arm start to bough. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Yes, he'd give his life for science. Just not an arm.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">My unscientific brain tells me they could have slapped the patch on a wild boar, or something that the snake would have actually wanted to eat, to get their psi reading; thus saving themselves the cost of one super scuba suit, a TV production crew, and two hours of my precious time.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">The most exciting portion of the show was documentary footage of an anaconda</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span>ralphing<span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">up a deer. Which you can also find</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvlU90OHNcM" style="text-align: justify;" target="_blank">plenty of footage of on YouTube</a><span style="text-align: justify;">.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">You're welcome!</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-1892994270390021642014-09-02T21:39:00.000-04:002014-11-01T11:31:02.818-04:00Thoughts on Forty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
I turn forty in exactly one week. How do I feel about it?<br />
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In a word: Depressed.<br />
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Now, don't try and cheer me up by telling me that "Life begins at 40", that "40's the new 20", or that at least I get to be a cougar now.<br />
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I'm not naive.<br />
<br />
I know that life began at 00:01, that I didn't have these crow's feet when I was 20, and that since 40 year-old men go for 27 year-old women, <i>so do the 27 year-old men!</i> Duh.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No. What I get at forty is frequent heartburn, anti-aging face cream that makes me break out, to get hit on by solely the over-60 crowd (talk about an unwanted booby prize!) and nephews that are constantly asking me if I am a widow. (I think the evasive word they're reaching for is "spinster".)</div>
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I was recently reminded of <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2011/09/how-o-old-are-you.html" target="_blank">an old blog post of mine on turning thirty</a>. I was so excited to turn thirty, in small part, because I was still aging well enough to get carded at the movie theater and I wore that fact like a badge of pride.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The only time I get carded these days is when I'm buying cold medication. And, even then, it's only to check the database of known meth cookers. I'm never mistaken these days for looking 17, only for looking like a speed freak.</div>
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Well, I won't ramble on with further complaints on aging or gross you out with more facts on what happens to a woman's body at my age. I will simply conclude this post by offering the following advice.</div>
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If you happen to cross my path in the next seven days, take heed:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>The wrong way to wish me a happy fortieth:</b> If you think over-the-hill pranks are adorable, prepare to see some wrists slit. Don't worry, <i>my </i>life is not in danger. Yours is. If I'm handed anything with a picture of a gravestone on it, I will cut you. If you try to recite any "cute" poetry that begins with the opening line "Lordy, lordy...", I will cut you. If I receive any cards with that grumpy Shoebox lady on it, <i>even if it's just an early Christmas card</i>, I will paper cut you with the envelope in which it was wrapped. If a black balloon is inflated, next Tuesday, within a half-mile of my vicinity I will cut said person so fast and so deep that they'll risk death from drowning in their own pool of blood as much as from the loss of blood itself.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The right way to wish me a happy birthday this year: </b>Nice cards that don't mention being over-the-hill or premature references to menopause. (And, I won't complain if there's cash stuffed inside of them.) Hugs. Kisses. Gentle pats on the behind. Balloons in any other color than black (see above) or pink (because I hate pink. In fact, I don't really want any balloons. I was just trying to leave the balloon option out there. In reality, what do you do with them once the day's over? Sit there and watch them deflate over the next week, as they slowly become the literal shape and texture of my 40-year old ass. Yeah. Definitely, no balloons!) Or, just a simple "Happy Birthday" with a smile will do. I will also understand a hurried mumble while averting the eyes after putting you through this post.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or, you can just <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2011/09/how-o-old-are-you.html" target="_blank">read the old blog post</a>. It handled 37 alot better than I'm handling 40. And, then bring on the kittens!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-37268135595081600772014-08-03T11:06:00.000-04:002014-08-03T11:06:09.067-04:0040 Year Old Property Virgin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>An Aunt's Life </i>has become a bit schizophrenic in its structure. So, like I did with my religious posts in <i><a href="http://auntswalk.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">walk.</a></i>, I've decided to also consolodate my house-hunting posts to a new blog site that I've decided to name <i><a href="http://40yearoldpropertyvirgin.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">40 Year Old Property Virgin</a> </i>(and refuse to stop giggling about it!)<div>
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<div>
If you're following <i>An Aunt's Life </i>and want to keep up with all the juicy house-hunting scandal, be sure to click the link and follow the new page as well. I'm going to keep up with it throughout the trials of my finding a place to live. And, I'll also keep it around for any renovation, decorating or Pinterest fails that are sure to come my way once I've finally found my nest.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Also, coming soon will be another new blogsite (Maya Angelou-inspired. Huh? Just go with it...) that I'm calling <a href="http://fromthecurlofmylip.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><i>From the Curl of My Lip</i></a>.</div>
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I'll keep <i>An Aunt's Life </i>as my nostalgia, pop culture and general essay site. And, no, <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2011/07/its-aunts-life.html" target="_blank">I still haven't come up with a better name for it</a> after all these years! </div>
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Oh well. Continue to visit and be sure to try the new sites if you so fancy to.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-37009887061646891512014-07-26T22:03:00.000-04:002014-08-02T20:19:58.285-04:00House Hunting: Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/06/house-hunting-is-load-of-crap.html" target="_blank">house-hunting adventure</a> continued today with the first slew of showings with my new realtor. (New realtor = the one who actually called me back and whom has this whole fancy email thing figured out.)</div>
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<b>House 1: </b>This house is very near to the home we had lived in for the last 13 years and on a street that is a part of our regular evening walking route. It had a nice front porch, a quaint and easily maintainable backyard, and a friendly black kitty next door that I would be likely to catnap and call as my own (only until the neighbor woke up and realized it was missing, of course.) </div>
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The inside of the house wasn't so much of a treat. Musty smelling, wallpaper in every bedroom (even in places where wallpaper doesn't belong. Hint: <i>Wall</i>paper was designed for <i>walls</i>, yo) absolutely no appliances, makeshift closet rods made of leftover plumbing, and the piece de resistance... wood paneling in all of the common spaces. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now I realize that <i>real </i>wood paneling can be easily painted to look like beadboard or wainscoting. But, this home had this this flimsy thin faux wood walling that someone had, not so cleverly, cut out little hidden "doors" in. What? I know this makes no sense. But, imagine following along the wall to discover a piece of packaging tape, masking or duct tape (Believe me, the tape came in an abundance of variety.) You notice a rectangular cut-out along the wall and give the tape a tug. Like a little trap door, the thin paneling would give way to reveal either a surprise "Oh. A fuse box!" or the deception of one, "Oh, a bed of splinters!"</div>
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I think I jumped the gun, though, on the piece de resistance. This was actually the fact that we never did find the furnace. We found the water heater, the hookups for where a washer and dryer <i>should </i>be, the air conditioning unit outside, but never a furnace. My realtor was still looking for it along the home's perimeter when we tried to let him off the hook, "It's a 'no' to this property, so there's no need to find it." He couldn't give up the game though, "Okay. But, I still want to find it. It's got to be here <i>some</i>where!"</div>
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<b>Condo 1:</b> The only condo we toured today was located in a dream location. Right in the downtown area of my own hometown, but in a complex I'd hadn't considered due to its extremely cramped parking situation. </div>
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There was a subletter who hadn't vacated the premises prior to our arrival, but who was kind enough to shirtlessly take to the bedroom to iron his laundry while we had a look around. (He wasn't so kind, however, as to turn off the internet porn he'd left up on the screen of his laptop on the dining room table. But, if you ask my mom, "I thought he was just studying to be a doctor." I'll let you folks decide for yourselves.)</div>
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It was a one bedroom unit (I had been looking for two) but the one room was ample enough in size and closet space to make up for it. The layout was well appointed and the picture window in the living room had a lovely view of the courtyard space below.</div>
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The downside? The parking, as mentioned before. At least one nosy elderly neighbor who was not at all shy about hanging out in the hallway and gawking at us a we toured the rest of the building. And, worst of all, horror upon horror, NO CATS ALLOWED! Come on, people! I'm turning 40. I'm unmarried. I've earned at least one cat in life!</div>
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It remains on the maybe list.</div>
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<b>House 2:</b> We actually started out this afternoon in the property that I'd referred to in <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2014/06/house-hunting-is-load-of-crap.html" target="_blank">my last post</a> as the home in the meth-y neighborhood. But, for the purpose of good writing and suspense, I decided to save the "best" for last.</div>
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I'd recently re-nicknamed this one the "rapey woods" home because there's a wooded ravine behind the property. This intrigued me with the thought of wildlife but, instead, alarmed some in the family with its imminent threat of rapey danger. (Upon further research, I also learned that there <i>is</i> a registered sex offender living, ummmmmm, <i>as the closest neighbor to the right!</i>) But, it's newly renovated and miraculously in my price range. Let's take a look!</div>
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The yard was beautiful, fenced in, and the woods dropped off almost immediately into the Rouge River; giving any rapist worth his salt a great challenge to attack me from the property's rear. But, that's where the fun ended. </div>
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Upon opening the front door we were immediately hit with the strong scent of mold. Then, when taking a first glance around, I realized that "newly renovated" was really the listing agent's code that they had newly acquired skills in the the art of Photoshop.</div>
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The gorgeous original hardwood floors pictured online, in reality, had the smoothness and consistency of a highway rumble strip. Their appearance, in person, gave the impression that a former owner at one time had strapped two pairs of ice skates on the family dog, let go, and said, "Let's just see what happens."</div>
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Now, I am not a flooring snob! I am fine with carpet. I am fine with tile. I am fine with laminate "hardwood". It's just that when sinking my savings into a home, it would simply be nice to walk across my own living room without the fear of splinters and sea-sickness.</div>
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I am also not an appliance snob. But, let's just say that the stainless steel refrigerator's freezer had a stain in it which could have possibly been left behind from a severed head. Moving out of the kitchen...</div>
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The bedrooms were okay, but with the really weird closets of a house built in the 1920's. (By the way, this house was built in the 1920's.) The bathroom was standard. The smell of mold was STRONG throughout the entire upstairs and had already cemented a "no" vote in my mind. But, since we're here, why not check out the basement? What harm could come from checking out the basement?</div>
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Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp... down the stairs we go. Looking up, yes, there is obvious water damage to this home. And, the copper plumbing did not have one inch that wasn't covered in rust.</div>
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It's still a "no" vote, but I possess a curious mind. Let's open the washer and dryer. Well, I think that severed head may have also taken a run through these.</div>
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Turn around. Ooh, a pet spider.</div>
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Turn around again. Ooh, a mysterious room that was probably used for storing beets and raw potatoes back in the day.</div>
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What's behind <i>this </i>door? </div>
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The best I can describe what was behind <i>this </i>door is, if you've ever watched season one of <i>Bate's Motel</i>, it's the room where the kidnapped Asian sex slave was being held in Officer Shelby's basement. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO1AhiYsjBKV89qGXqfimH1N69ztLgAcfkKzWNkOx-fDCH_xRuNyKdOQv3erfCHlxHl89nQPK3-uzwjfBBVlLHSAeqr_IYgCR39Vqgr8u_gxUDVXXNq3NJ-Uom2lCDYeRxrYCxGcQG5Ce/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO1AhiYsjBKV89qGXqfimH1N69ztLgAcfkKzWNkOx-fDCH_xRuNyKdOQv3erfCHlxHl89nQPK3-uzwjfBBVlLHSAeqr_IYgCR39Vqgr8u_gxUDVXXNq3NJ-Uom2lCDYeRxrYCxGcQG5Ce/s1600/th.jpg" /></a></div>
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There could be no other explanation for this room other than to hold a kidnap victim hostage. </div>
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<i>Then </i>when you walk <i>into </i>the room, there's <i>another </i>door that leads to <i>another </i>hostage room. The first room even had a wire for cable TV hanging down from the ceiling. Presumably, this was the "good hostage" room that you're allowed to watch TV in. When you're a "bad hostage" you get led through the labyrinth to the bad hostage room.</div>
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What house needs TWO hostage rooms in the basement?! (Maybe even three, if the room by the basement steps isn't really for storing beets!) These rooms also had excessive water damage to the point where the floor was coming apart. Presumably due to water torture or the rinsing of the severed head. </div>
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I had squealed in horror when I opened the second hidden room's door. My realtor scurried over to ask me what I think. I said, "Well, if I ever decide to take up serial killing, I've found a place to stow the bodies." He laughed and actually agreed. Therefore, he is still my realtor.</div>
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There's a sex offender next door, two to three torture rooms in the basement and the likelihood that a severed head has frequented every appliance in the joint. This home is also not for me. NO LIST!</div>
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I realize that living by myself might eventually become lonely, but I'll take loneliness over being visited by the souls of those who passed here any day!</div>
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We're going back to the drawing board and praying for new listings this week. Home shopping on a tight budget may not be easy, but it is certainly entertaining!</div>
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Now if you'll excuse me, I had to go wash the mold spores out of my sinuses. They're giving me a headache.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-79515248952355311262014-07-02T22:05:00.001-04:002015-04-04T19:32:37.313-04:00Rite of Passage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHmfOTA8Llr2GVsvmq2QZ0pmUtPt7n3SQ6mYtSBl-kRa6rrfv71ydKbxQdlhw9QTj9qiEcE_7xu-qbekINAr36FHYWBEAmt-rov3rEapvdGB48pgTSU0p9Dyzr72QnEaUlQhyHpcc4D6-/s1600/fyb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHmfOTA8Llr2GVsvmq2QZ0pmUtPt7n3SQ6mYtSBl-kRa6rrfv71ydKbxQdlhw9QTj9qiEcE_7xu-qbekINAr36FHYWBEAmt-rov3rEapvdGB48pgTSU0p9Dyzr72QnEaUlQhyHpcc4D6-/s1600/fyb.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
This year-of-turning-forty is not without its rites of passage. <br />
<br />
The latest, being my very own breast cancer scare.<br />
<br />
[Usher me past the velvet ropes of womanhood.]<br />
<br />
Probably half of the women I know that are my age or older have had at least one lump, bump, cyst or funky mammogram result that sent them into that multi-day tailspin until... dah dah dummm... RESULTS.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, during a routine physical, my doctor felt something.<br />
<br />
Now, my doctor is a chatterbox and what she felt caused a reaction I'd never seen in her. She stopped talking. Mid-sentence even! We went immediately from sharing our lack of plans for the holiday to her shoving my left boob in the same spot repeatedly while her chatty smile turned into an instant look of dread.<br />
<br />
I didn't immediately catch on to the severity of the issue, so when I tried to continue the conversation, she finally blurted out that I have a lump.<br />
<br />
I was stunned.<br />
<br />
I had came in for a routine physical. I went from the high of being told we could skip the pelvic exam this year due to my previous year's shining results. We'd already covered the state of my family history, my GERD, my bum knee and I received new praise for upping my exercise routine this year.<br />
<br />
All that was left was the easy part. Lay back, don't make eye contact and have a breezy conversation while my doctor feels me up.<br />
<br />
She ended up taking my own hand and shoving it into my left side-boob, as if to wake me up to the fact that we were no longer talking about barbecuing on the Fourth of July. "Do you feel that?" she asked me. "Oh... yeah.. kinda," I lied. "I'm sending you for an ultrasound."<br />
<br />
Her easiest appointment of the day suddenly turned into hushed conversations with the nurse as they scribbled in my file and crazily hurried together paperwork to get me into the lab as quickly as possible, while the nurse kept turning around to assure me how pretty I looked that day. (Ah, the sisterhood of women. Always able to deflect panic with a compliment, God bless us.)<br />
<br />
The soonest the lab could take me for an ultrasound was to be this afternoon. All I had to do was stave off my imagination for one shortened workday before I could have answers and feel some relief.<br />
<br />
Well, an office worker from lab called me first thing this morning with some news that she was obviously hesitant to share. The ultrasound tech had called in sick. I blurted out an, "OH NO!" Which she echoed in sympathy, "Oh no, is right..."<br />
<br />
She then tip-toed through the rest of the conversation. I could practically sense her cringing on the other end, as if I had the power to reach through the phone line and choke her out. "I understand it's not your fault," I assured her, "but when is the soonest you can get me in? I don't care what day, how early, how late..." I found a moment to sympathize with her for being the messenger and promised myself that I would not bark at her in the manner that today's other patients must have verbally manhandled her with.<br />
<br />
Next week. Thursday. Stupid "sick" lab tech. Stupid holiday.<br />
<br />
My six hour wait for peace in a moment's notice had multiplied into a one-week-plus-one-day one.<br />
<br />
Boy is my imagination is going to be testing me!<br />
<br />
I realize this isn't usually the stage in which you share this kind of medical news. In fact, I wasn't going to share any of this publicly until I had happy results that I could turn into a hilarious blog post, typed with fingers that had been bathed in utter relief.<br />
<br />
<b>But, then I figured that God doesn't test us so we can keep secrets about it. </b><br />
<br />
Maybe not all women will experience cancer. The unfortunate ones don't have a choice. The brave of those ones build up the courage to share their journeys.<br />
<br />
But, there's also the rest of womankind. The "at least half of the ones I know" that can relate to the waiting. Good news, bad news, just hoping for the all clear. Most of them won't even end up being sick and needing treatment... but, <i>oh, </i>the crazy places your mind will go when you're caught up in the day-long and night-long distraction of not knowing yet.<br />
<br />
Why should <i>we </i>be ashamed to talk about it? It's one of the neediest times to open up our mouths and vent.<br />
<br />
So, for your entertainment (and maybe to pass Phase One of my "test") here is an overshare of some random thoughts that have passed through my scattered brain these last two days:<br />
<br />
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Geesh, the first year I didn't bother with a self exam!</li>
<li>I thought only big breasts got lumps.</li>
<li>Why'd I go and pick the cheaper insurance plan at work?</li>
<li>I'm house-hunting! I can't afford cancer right now!</li>
<li>After the lab lady asked me if the lump hurts, I answered "no." After I obsessively poke myself in the breast all evening, "Ow! It hurts so bad!"</li>
<li>Lumpectomy or mastectomy?</li>
<li>With a mastectomy I could inherit an insurance-paid-for perfectly-shaped pair.</li>
<li>Why does the medically bad boob have to be the physically cuter one?</li>
<li>Should I start giving out free second-baseys so my real breasts can have one last thrill before they're severed and tossed in the garbage.</li>
<li>Do they put the amputated breasts in the garbage can?!</li>
<li>Should I photograph them before they're gone?</li>
<li>Why do I immediately think I will be breastless in the near future?</li>
<li>I'm sorry to my boobs, for always calling you small. You are not inadequate in any way, shape or form.</li>
<li>This really isn't helping my mid-life crisis.</li>
<li>Is someone going to make me do a three-day walk now? I really don't think I want to walk that far.</li>
<li>Do I have to start wearing pink? I <i>hate </i>pink!</li>
<li>I can't believe I was tempted to cancel my annual physical.</li>
<li>Don't ever cancel your annual physical.</li>
<li>I love my doctor.</li>
<li>Why now?</li>
<li>Why me?</li>
<li>Am I dreaming?</li>
<li>Should I really blog all this?</li>
</ul>
<div>
Well, too late now. I just did.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I'd love to end this post with "IT WAS JUST A CYST!", but I jumped the gun on this news and now <i>we'll all </i>just have to wait on the test and its results together. (Don't you love how I tangled you into my anxiety web?)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
You don't have to act weird if you see me in real life. I'll accept all encouraging hugs. I welcome your own stories if you never had a chance to vent your own scare. I'll even understand if you avoid me altogether because this news made things awkward and you'd rather pretend you never read this. Fine, you never read this. You know nothing about my boobs. I can play along! When I'm in an awkward moment I overshare. I can definitely feel for those who don't.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Of course, I'm accepting all offered prayers. But, I'm not quite ready for unsolicited advice, so don't go there yet. </div>
<div>
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div>
<i>And, please, don't bother my family</i> with questions they don't have answers to. I told you everything I know so far and they're alot more private than I am. (Do you really think the men in my family want to acknowledge the existence of my breasts?) If you must talk about it, bring it to me only. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My doctor tried very hard to convince me that I should think this is just a cyst. (But, she also whispered too much with the nurse in a panicked fury too closely to the exam room door...) I'm choosing to be encouraged by her hopeful prognosis. And, in my heart-of-hearts, I know she's probably right. She <i>is </i>the expert, after all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Worst case scenario:</b> I'm dying. But, aren't we all dying of something?</div>
<div>
<b>Bad case scenario:</b> It's something and I'll need treatment. But, treatment exists. Praise the Lord! </div>
<div>
<b>Best case (and <i>most likely</i>) scenario:</b> My doctor's hope was right and the worst that happened was that I entertained you all with my honest paranoia. </div>
<div>
<b>Most bizarre of the benign scenarios:</b> God just gave my breasts speed-bumps to deter fast men.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><i>Don't skip your self exam this year. And be sure to make that yearly appointment!</i></b></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-63946275822518267532014-06-21T22:01:00.004-04:002014-08-02T20:13:28.673-04:00Game Shows I Would Dominate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I impressed my family recently by answering three consecutive questions correctly during an episode of <i>Jeopardy</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The category was some fluff along the lines of "80's Pop Music". But, since my "Who is Bono?" had impressed the elderly so much, it got my confidence up enough to cause me to wonder what other game shows I could totally dominate.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1m4G5HgudAxDAinIEjCeer7WTPgE5FAPM_hBB76u9BmpI_b7uuIJ5prtxZG6vJiJi9Ll-f8lhUVoOChPNQ8ubPM1f0Ych-aCpgSXlPOiBBizgNcGCjgie87c4l1gvobWDOt_m5jQgjU4/s1600/Wheel_of_Fortune.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1m4G5HgudAxDAinIEjCeer7WTPgE5FAPM_hBB76u9BmpI_b7uuIJ5prtxZG6vJiJi9Ll-f8lhUVoOChPNQ8ubPM1f0Ych-aCpgSXlPOiBBizgNcGCjgie87c4l1gvobWDOt_m5jQgjU4/s1600/Wheel_of_Fortune.png" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Wheel of Fortune: </b>Can you spell? Can you spell 1-3 words in a row at one time? Well, I can. I think I could do pretty well for myself playing 30 minutes on the Wheel. I should still have enough upper body strength to spin the wheel at least one full rotation. I can clap and whoop "C'mon big money!" with the best of them. And, I already have my three consonants and one vowel picked out for the final round. It's like they're making this too easy for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Family Feud:<span style="background-color: #ffe599;"> </span></b><span style="color: #101010;"><span style="background-color: #ffe599; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;">Families shouldn't feud. But, if they so choose to, it should be televised in syndication. All you have to do is force yourself to think like a hundred random peers. (You think this would be easy, but the show has proven that theory wrong.) My slapping skills are superior, so the buzzer wouldn't phase me. My only obstacle would be playing the pervy modern version of the show. I'm not sure the mind of 100 random perverts is a place I want to dally near. Revive Richard Dawson for one episode and I'm sold. (Even though I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea of him trying to wrestle a kiss out of me overtop of the microphone.)</span></span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #101010; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;">The Mole: </b><span style="color: #101010; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;">Although, there's a little too much timed running around involved, I still think I could have won <i>The Mole</i>. They had to go and take it off the air, though, before I had the chance to prove myself! I always figured I could walk slowly, feigning side cramps, during the running competitions (although, I probably wouldn't need to feign...) thus causing my competitors to think I was The Mole sabotaging that round, therefore eliminating themselves during the end of show quiz. (Never heard of the show, so none of this makes sense to you? Well, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mole_(U.S._TV_series)" target="_blank">click here</a>, I'm too busy bragging about my game plan to explain things right now.) My ultimate fantasy was to be chosen to <i>be </i>the saboteur, yes <i>The Mole. </i>I'm an excellent prankster, but more importantly the show's mole gets to have secret meetings in their hotel room with the show's producers and its host, the fairest of them all, <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2012/07/cooper-for-husband-in-2012.html" target="_blank">Mr. Anderson Cooper.</a> My not-so-secret crush and ultimate boo. The mole is committed to sticking it through all 13 episodes, running and all. No quitting, no taking a suitcase of bribe money and walking away; but you can cry like a baby, so we're good. The very thought of traveling around Europe, creating mystery and intrigue with my Silver Fox.. Late night pow-wows about the strategies of the next episode... "Can we cuddle while we discuss this? It's late and oh so exhausting creating sabotage..." Ba-da-bing, ba-da-bang, white-haired babies on board. (Yes. I am totally aware. Just leave me in this place for one moment.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #101010; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;"><b>Plinko: </b>I would <i>not </i>do very well on <i>The Price is Right</i>, seeing that I've rarely paid full retail price on a thing in my life. But, I've always been drawn to the Plinko round. Any episode that didn't feature a Plinko session was simply a wasted hour of my life that I would never be able to retrieve. I will even admit that for many years, I thought the game was called Plunko. Well, those little discs plunk more than they plink, yes? Let's just be real about it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #101010; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;"><b>Jeopardy: </b>You understand that we're talking Kid's Week, right? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #101010; font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.079999923706055px;"><b>Hollywood Game Night: </b>NBC's newest game show is currently the only one I bother watching. Pop culture knowledge? Check. Obnoxious miming of song lyrics? Easy peasy. More buzzer slapping? Um, yeah, I've got that covered. Pretending that people like Wayne Brady, K</span><span style="line-height: 22.079999923706055px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #101010;">ristin Chenoweth and the guy from <i>Chuck </i>are just your normal, every day, weekend party guests? Why not!</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 22.079999923706055px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #101010;">Just hand over a bag of money now. I've got this. (No really, give me some money. I could really use it at the moment.)</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-78527503686287420582014-06-21T18:37:00.000-04:002017-06-21T11:12:25.513-04:00House Hunting is a Load of Crap<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qwcpaDf4jlQIaNRrK0t8V1G8X9jGdFZ1UqXbC9IKJMdfPQs-A5lHxJsAP-2fdkCE2xMHbXmrZQ9OJQiJ1Eo4p_PGmu7qUt_CPTVhS5LZBitEtg1gXFM8JW0fDXqjaOhc8gh5DjMU8OuK/s1600/hgtv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qwcpaDf4jlQIaNRrK0t8V1G8X9jGdFZ1UqXbC9IKJMdfPQs-A5lHxJsAP-2fdkCE2xMHbXmrZQ9OJQiJ1Eo4p_PGmu7qUt_CPTVhS5LZBitEtg1gXFM8JW0fDXqjaOhc8gh5DjMU8OuK/s1600/hgtv.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Let me start off by saying this: HGTV is a network of liars.</div>
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House hunting is not as fun as reality TV would have you think. There's no half-million dollar budget, dry-witted realtor, miles of granite countertop, hickory flooring, river rock showers, nor a film crew to capture all the amusing hijinks. (And, those Property Brothers won't even give me the time of day!)</div>
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No. In reality, hickory floors are not in your price-point, your realtor never bothered calling back (probably after scoffing at the tiny commission your purchase would generate), and all highjinks so far involved are sad and not anywhere near worth documenting for posterity.</div>
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House hunting it stressful. House hunting is bad for your self-esteem. And, it basically just makes you have to go to the bathroom in more repetition than you are normally used to.</div>
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As my regular readers and friends all know; YES! I currently live with my parents. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhw1kdL38tJCcZ9htM0EfSetfxGF0XppQ5pgs6wlVl2vyJBa3NRBNq1WVzRnc7EwEdCBqSEszmlbk5o0E6iWTJ7EFBxP58QT09V0M9bLeQG6lldd6aHNvu5Vnvs3lli0V6exwMeKuT1rj/s1600/75Horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhw1kdL38tJCcZ9htM0EfSetfxGF0XppQ5pgs6wlVl2vyJBa3NRBNq1WVzRnc7EwEdCBqSEszmlbk5o0E6iWTJ7EFBxP58QT09V0M9bLeQG6lldd6aHNvu5Vnvs3lli0V6exwMeKuT1rj/s1600/75Horse.jpg" width="294" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roomies since day one. Now, with bigger jammies and a newer paci.</td></tr>
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But, what you may not know is that home ownership was the last remaining unticked bulletpoint on my "Before I Turn 40" bucket list. (<i>Last </i>bulletpoint! I am <i>SO </i>dang close!)</div>
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What you also may not know is that this year-of-the-big-4-0 happens to coincide with my parents sudden urge to downsize, once again, and become snowbirds. </div>
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What you <i>really </i>don't know (unless you see me everyday, then you already know too much and will probably want to toggle back to Facebook at this point...) is that our current home sold in under four days and we all need to vacate the premises in less than five weeks having absolutely no place to go.</div>
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House hunting has moved into super-stress mode! </div>
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[Pause writing for additional bathroom break]</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv2jKlUAnmRKq3aa00DxyFc03GWH4gZ5wHLq8wskkwIdg3yNQQns419mOdWnAMLYui01IpPdIw9aj0peGKFv-eadUydGH7n3K_HAXTzPcFu8-4qpbWoUcU8SZNefpe3s0CMqbDCLGbIsc/s1600/P1150845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv2jKlUAnmRKq3aa00DxyFc03GWH4gZ5wHLq8wskkwIdg3yNQQns419mOdWnAMLYui01IpPdIw9aj0peGKFv-eadUydGH7n3K_HAXTzPcFu8-4qpbWoUcU8SZNefpe3s0CMqbDCLGbIsc/s1600/P1150845.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'd considered breaking a promise on the lease agreement for my storage unit, by sleeping there for a few nights/weeks/months, if need be. (I've kept enough promises in 39 years, I should be allowed a freebie at this point, right?)</div>
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But, the mad packing dash has changed the comfort level of my storage unit from this (above) to that (below).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pSIglYW-X2y171W-fW-553z961rcxY0dVmlMAfV_PrdCif_ufm_srQnczXV3ctiph8Tv9wsggRl0NFsUcH78QJwr6H8x7XR5Hy5XJt9-EC5lie9aCewOwkx_Oru6mufpTl_uXyg625U_/s1600/Pic-06162014-005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pSIglYW-X2y171W-fW-553z961rcxY0dVmlMAfV_PrdCif_ufm_srQnczXV3ctiph8Tv9wsggRl0NFsUcH78QJwr6H8x7XR5Hy5XJt9-EC5lie9aCewOwkx_Oru6mufpTl_uXyg625U_/s1600/Pic-06162014-005.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Although, I'm training myself to fall asleep in this posture as a backup plan.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9ULWokzvKflXf3NUoSVswbHpAyNWjxRtynPT4xtieWo9KQ_Tjx699Wi4twof0woZ2Lbx7ual2-Gw4c-q3Mo_o_w3G4e6JbrTB4V8BWSbzMdjbLy5ogtIjgCDuIURhmY7UCop8fwGoaD5/s1600/Pic-06162014-025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9ULWokzvKflXf3NUoSVswbHpAyNWjxRtynPT4xtieWo9KQ_Tjx699Wi4twof0woZ2Lbx7ual2-Gw4c-q3Mo_o_w3G4e6JbrTB4V8BWSbzMdjbLy5ogtIjgCDuIURhmY7UCop8fwGoaD5/s1600/Pic-06162014-025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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One of my other pre-40 bulletpoints that I did manage to pull off thus far was to "not get married". No shit. That was an <i>actual </i>goal of my thirties. (As if I were having diamond rings thrown at me from every direction. "<i>Stop trying to marry me handsome, intelligent, hilarious men! I'm not that kind of girl!"</i>)</div>
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The real reason for that "goal" was that I actually wanted to take that decade to explore my independence and straighten out some heavy financial, spiritual and familial stuff. Made sense at the time, but was not at all considering the fact that had I only left that <i>one </i>goal off the list, I could now have a housing budget that was double in size (making that river rock shower a total possibility.)*</div>
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I can't blame God. We all know that He carves a much wiser path for our lives than we ever could. But, I will blame Destiny's Child in small part. "<i>♫ The car I'm driving, I bought it! The house I live in, where is it?! ♫</i>" Why'd you get us all worked up, ladies? This crap is hard!</div>
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Here's the state of my housing options as of this week's realty listings:</div>
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<li>The pre-forclosed condo that's in my dream neighborhood, but has been bank-owned for over nine months and is not yet listed for sale. (I'm waiting on the aforementioned realtor to look into the bidding possibilities and get back with me.) The comps for the neighborhood were raised with a recent sale this past week, which has caused the prices in the neighborhood to be suddenly driven up, which has only aggravated my stress-belly further. [Insert additional bathroom trip.]</li>
<li>The okay-priced home that is, not only two lots down from the local sex shop, but also about 100 yards from where I saw a wino passed out in the grass with his paper bag last summer. (I <i>wish</i> I were exaggerating!)</li>
<li>The newly refinished home that lies just across the city border. Priced a bit higher than what I have to put down and in a neighborhood where I've spotted at least three places where I could likely procure crystal meth. (If you are confused, that last point is a negative. I <i>do not </i>have any need for meth and am not likely to in the coming years.)</li>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Sigh.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Well, if we can't classify it as being fun, what <i>is </i>a successful house-hunting experience? </span><br />
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I guess it's just one where you eventually end up with a place to live in. After you've pooped. A whole lot.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-25223778679152616452014-03-03T21:39:00.000-05:002014-08-02T20:13:28.638-04:00Oscars 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">♫ It's a wonderful night for Oscar... Oscar, Oscar. ♫ </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I came <i>this </i>close to missing it because I got bored during the lackluster Red Carpet preview and almost forgot to turn back to the TV once the show started.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What went wrong on the Red Carpet? Nobody looked bad, which is a plus. Everybody just looked "blah". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">These last few award seasons, the stars have been going all out with color and fun for the Golden Globes and then playing it <i>much </i>too safe come Oscar night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first problem of the night, <i>TOO MUCH BEIGE!!!</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi894pgYB1VP-tb89YnEAoZV9pnWarlLaoPCPNgewDnNailit5_Y90ZM43zvR-m3CFQo7P_U1bLgb7arSw3WpygDahWAAmJtawVHpUD3_VIrnMScXjj6cLrHu1XXmVhVer1zcHQPoH_IT1s/s1600/LauraDern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi894pgYB1VP-tb89YnEAoZV9pnWarlLaoPCPNgewDnNailit5_Y90ZM43zvR-m3CFQo7P_U1bLgb7arSw3WpygDahWAAmJtawVHpUD3_VIrnMScXjj6cLrHu1XXmVhVer1zcHQPoH_IT1s/s1600/LauraDern.jpg" height="200" width="137" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OB3_JYqM0Pvd6TPvdxPgvGrxZ81x2rq_qIwkpPlFka_TkxaZqMx1rX54fFotoLs59Hl_PYB0BKfGu9xCbVC6KyAx4PRrz0F4lAda4A9WHfDNNOqeLc5teSuOFQXG79Gqwdv1wceraSj1/s1600/AngJolie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OB3_JYqM0Pvd6TPvdxPgvGrxZ81x2rq_qIwkpPlFka_TkxaZqMx1rX54fFotoLs59Hl_PYB0BKfGu9xCbVC6KyAx4PRrz0F4lAda4A9WHfDNNOqeLc5teSuOFQXG79Gqwdv1wceraSj1/s1600/AngJolie.jpg" height="200" width="140" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIPJH1UmuVdhyphenhyphen3_Ltgljl1zltp0nrCc2lXTIHfa-z7zLm0hj4YDh3v1ScyUJlFZe3SppfDDGInTFwtlaanzlFCAAHy7n8SulODbYzZ2B-mYDdmhHudJfzlsXOUhz4vEe2Rg3vsaCl9lWE/s1600/JulieDelpy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIPJH1UmuVdhyphenhyphen3_Ltgljl1zltp0nrCc2lXTIHfa-z7zLm0hj4YDh3v1ScyUJlFZe3SppfDDGInTFwtlaanzlFCAAHy7n8SulODbYzZ2B-mYDdmhHudJfzlsXOUhz4vEe2Rg3vsaCl9lWE/s1600/JulieDelpy.jpg" height="200" width="139" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJ5Jwt0nqiUVnrcSgqz6KKX_h9hQKT1-X-ZwQl_xq2xru9amTj8uUs2u6PoqOLNDIMrXzvY8qDu-xYLNe8gC0Req9QJkbGWASwNwLpbarOaGkXTG5GMJVIajOvmQmkyggQd0WS5bvpEKo/s1600/KristenBell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJ5Jwt0nqiUVnrcSgqz6KKX_h9hQKT1-X-ZwQl_xq2xru9amTj8uUs2u6PoqOLNDIMrXzvY8qDu-xYLNe8gC0Req9QJkbGWASwNwLpbarOaGkXTG5GMJVIajOvmQmkyggQd0WS5bvpEKo/s1600/KristenBell.jpg" height="200" width="143" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's as if everyone overbooked the same stylist who, for lack of inspiration and in a award-season panic, decided to pull life-sized pantyhose over the heads of the most famous bodies in the business, all the while assuring them of how great this will look great on camera. Not only did it not photograph well, but it gave me Winter Olympics flashbacks that it's just much too soon for me to be having. (And, at least Johnny Weir would have added feathers!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwiD8rxUYEapgo7thTu-kQHawfWfG0FbzPqDg2K_VAFjQuPMb1sDehBzBwHka9KzRhlg-rV18zzR09cz-xs9XpUaOnCcVvk_8xgWZc6hqPuIAdw21DyegQEeNCX4J5arQX7KGWGSbLVyxq/s1600/AmyAdams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwiD8rxUYEapgo7thTu-kQHawfWfG0FbzPqDg2K_VAFjQuPMb1sDehBzBwHka9KzRhlg-rV18zzR09cz-xs9XpUaOnCcVvk_8xgWZc6hqPuIAdw21DyegQEeNCX4J5arQX7KGWGSbLVyxq/s1600/AmyAdams.jpg" height="200" width="146" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3xtHLqLOwD-XiPyiGA9raBn76vVzkFDHrl47Wyc2_koZPqA0rhzKCz5M0z9iRwZExnp6Pkvc5zCype9zdi7faB8tpE2YwD5okKew6qqghMTZGZsJV2oI1i4mTmCad8-3GRym3-DsX7zA/s1600/JenniferLawrence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3xtHLqLOwD-XiPyiGA9raBn76vVzkFDHrl47Wyc2_koZPqA0rhzKCz5M0z9iRwZExnp6Pkvc5zCype9zdi7faB8tpE2YwD5okKew6qqghMTZGZsJV2oI1i4mTmCad8-3GRym3-DsX7zA/s1600/JenniferLawrence.jpg" height="200" width="146" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Pretty and unoffensive were </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">American Hustle</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s Amy Adams and Jennifer Lawrence's matching column dresses. (Adams in Gucci, Lawrence in Dior.) It was nice to see a pop of color and a few ladies who remember to structure from underneath. (I won't mention those who forgot their Spanx last night...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Speaking of color!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsRQZ0Inb0MTKWby9ZvdIyhRxTLrLSShhF3rVaVFBbwpM5GfJZ8DalpdyWb4Ngo9tAmLFxKvFoGxJUiDwOi9doid9KJVTQcCLR4zASLUwLkv7cjkxiCWL-dtMM-0uyOZdj7hkBh0p7wYk/s1600/OscarLupitaSide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsRQZ0Inb0MTKWby9ZvdIyhRxTLrLSShhF3rVaVFBbwpM5GfJZ8DalpdyWb4Ngo9tAmLFxKvFoGxJUiDwOi9doid9KJVTQcCLR4zASLUwLkv7cjkxiCWL-dtMM-0uyOZdj7hkBh0p7wYk/s1600/OscarLupitaSide.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How adorable was Lupita Nyong'o whipping around in her princess train all night?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCCDHqJ4v4R3Ibs8z6pqXcqTz0cE9C3V895o-7wvOBJWPB448EL62ClQXHs-omGmq7aPeI2cru0L0eiN0evw_xddS0t3nIS-Ewt-JO1OTeA7pwKb-fBts_VIEAbfSfDg7LMl_CKsv7-yQ/s1600/Lupita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCCDHqJ4v4R3Ibs8z6pqXcqTz0cE9C3V895o-7wvOBJWPB448EL62ClQXHs-omGmq7aPeI2cru0L0eiN0evw_xddS0t3nIS-Ewt-JO1OTeA7pwKb-fBts_VIEAbfSfDg7LMl_CKsv7-yQ/s1600/Lupita.jpg" height="320" width="260" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Proving once again that she has the body and complexion to make any dress in any color look good (and winning bonus points for the mohawk-headband combo) she had my vote for Best Dressed on the Red Carpet.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgUTplsUlXmEYT7r8rO8fl3SFMmbq0b4tMmeL6_Gb_PtAfeUYi82CIr4u9iJLEBdkZ-8WXZJKGZacstV8VoeBlU9gJ4LiJnhJ7hIrjEzS4FnPyC4gg9ezPGZcTHnztyydsVnKqQyZSv8C/s1600/CatherineMartin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgUTplsUlXmEYT7r8rO8fl3SFMmbq0b4tMmeL6_Gb_PtAfeUYi82CIr4u9iJLEBdkZ-8WXZJKGZacstV8VoeBlU9gJ4LiJnhJ7hIrjEzS4FnPyC4gg9ezPGZcTHnztyydsVnKqQyZSv8C/s1600/CatherineMartin.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But, then the show started and I saw Catherine Martin accept her award for Costume Design and I had to change my vote for best dressed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The men showed up the ladies a bit by planning a white jacket conspiracy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGeTwTNOYf66PqLo_n-_MzF0v_ePdcEUMlpLxMmyU_0TRmdjY6dnbDo5_hhxl2q74p0X8Nq1fLiZfuv2SK5Zk4xYRNRMel7CDafjJwuPENUUitGgIqiE3REtb5hCrWlA7TFpOZSKY2jy8/s1600/JaredLetoTux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGeTwTNOYf66PqLo_n-_MzF0v_ePdcEUMlpLxMmyU_0TRmdjY6dnbDo5_hhxl2q74p0X8Nq1fLiZfuv2SK5Zk4xYRNRMel7CDafjJwuPENUUitGgIqiE3REtb5hCrWlA7TFpOZSKY2jy8/s1600/JaredLetoTux.jpg" height="200" width="151" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyuB37iN7aECfKvlv3hGqZRMTb0eadSs5Q8a27Qty72OpLqGfba_m2JPIemA3VsaCnpmXX4RuEVmjEoUIJTAqMJgL_xA7jxagFmDCDHMfR5GB79eYAue1RjoZThztqAlNwtN7M7zfSEGG/s1600/MatthewMcConaugheysuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyuB37iN7aECfKvlv3hGqZRMTb0eadSs5Q8a27Qty72OpLqGfba_m2JPIemA3VsaCnpmXX4RuEVmjEoUIJTAqMJgL_xA7jxagFmDCDHMfR5GB79eYAue1RjoZThztqAlNwtN7M7zfSEGG/s1600/MatthewMcConaugheysuit.jpg" height="200" width="136" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Pharrell even gave his wife an honorary invitation to this boy's club, for if only one night.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglM7NC4249-Gn06Ha-l3-07PkOW04vLyJEJPeaY1tzRRccb4tQEmDPKaeimWz-xdWsAq9Yq41_h_ZdJCqaUNHJqu1dcfdMsTSLERgCWQnI4zCZr593ogZ6Slz4CdE17ggIvZMFEaf8XhD_/s1600/Pharrell'sWifeTux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglM7NC4249-Gn06Ha-l3-07PkOW04vLyJEJPeaY1tzRRccb4tQEmDPKaeimWz-xdWsAq9Yq41_h_ZdJCqaUNHJqu1dcfdMsTSLERgCWQnI4zCZr593ogZ6Slz4CdE17ggIvZMFEaf8XhD_/s1600/Pharrell'sWifeTux.jpg" height="320" width="217" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There's not much else to see here, so onto the show!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ellen stepped up to hosting duties for a second time and played the part more as Delightful Party Hostess than M.C., but that's okay. Me likey!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From her clean-cut razzing of the nominees to her calling Hollywood out on its lack of education. ("<span style="line-height: 18px;">Between all the nominees here tonight, you've done over 1400 films, 1400 films, and you've gone to a total of six years of college.") She never crossed the line and she usually brought the laughs.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The delightful thing about Ellen Degeneres is that she so good-natured that she can even get away with calling Liza Minnelli a drag queen. (Eliciting this sisterly response out of Lorna Luft.)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBAA-CRHwGPB661gscZoBcLhvdLSGXjJnW1x9cFu8wFlCoaByr9_U_l2oFkrlxT5WFRzC6ub3PpfCDpuiGsicdoiPYH9iVZOTucQd6gcFcGb9Wckq8UzT6xA8z_Od6hAki9FYPmSSRAeQ/s1600/LornaLuftLiza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBAA-CRHwGPB661gscZoBcLhvdLSGXjJnW1x9cFu8wFlCoaByr9_U_l2oFkrlxT5WFRzC6ub3PpfCDpuiGsicdoiPYH9iVZOTucQd6gcFcGb9Wckq8UzT6xA8z_Od6hAki9FYPmSSRAeQ/s1600/LornaLuftLiza.jpg" height="226" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Liza didn't care. She was so excited to be welcomed by the Academy to its most sacred event, that she thanked them by acting like a pill all night.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JkK6wolLY0h2F46sQU-p6eYD6mVroh2Ek6ao2xEhlryD9vM4qZ5eTvWyMTAEg376Xy3YHHMTCT6-UgHgkiQ2DAivsNphoqZT8KxX1vCWDyp3seXWzNqU0-YafZLUdJ8tz4bulAI6aM8s/s1600/EllenLiza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JkK6wolLY0h2F46sQU-p6eYD6mVroh2Ek6ao2xEhlryD9vM4qZ5eTvWyMTAEg376Xy3YHHMTCT6-UgHgkiQ2DAivsNphoqZT8KxX1vCWDyp3seXWzNqU0-YafZLUdJ8tz4bulAI6aM8s/s1600/EllenLiza.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First by annoyingly tugging on Ellen's arm while she was trying to take a joint selfie. (In Liza's defense, she didn't seem to understand the term "selfie".)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeErsGz-cUScCtWY5auk7R5OwObvOV8MsgudwxC0zD270dMDuR4ZtCmC9qSMMMKm4ro9mZybmx4qh81uOyBlu0wAz0xxURAnxov1ystmDnyojVgHkcOAkFOeIe5nn8noUvQ8wc0vk7wW0/s1600/LizaLupita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeErsGz-cUScCtWY5auk7R5OwObvOV8MsgudwxC0zD270dMDuR4ZtCmC9qSMMMKm4ro9mZybmx4qh81uOyBlu0wAz0xxURAnxov1ystmDnyojVgHkcOAkFOeIe5nn8noUvQ8wc0vk7wW0/s1600/LizaLupita.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Exhibit B: She held poor Lupita Nyong'o hostage in the aisle while the Best Supporting Actress was trying to politely make her way up to the statuette that was waiting for her onstage. (Cute hair though, Liza!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lupita's win started a trend of acceptance speeches for the night. That trend being speeches that were actually genuine, heartfelt and appreciative. This made up for the fact that there were no real upsets or surprises in the big acting categories and it seemed to keep the band from playing anyone off stage.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gz4kXPSTVKzs_LMvkK-KgH3ijN0Zlrzw5OjN-VuBNmOk2pdgvCpZQy5SNP8tkRaqj9iniCNnw04wciaIg1VXAO272mofVzfdGHeKNcaX9zWy8jUOrI2jgcjNJW0z3LgrKrXZlJNHdQGk/s1600/JaredSpeech.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gz4kXPSTVKzs_LMvkK-KgH3ijN0Zlrzw5OjN-VuBNmOk2pdgvCpZQy5SNP8tkRaqj9iniCNnw04wciaIg1VXAO272mofVzfdGHeKNcaX9zWy8jUOrI2jgcjNJW0z3LgrKrXZlJNHdQGk/s1600/JaredSpeech.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Among the musical performances, I was surprised at all the nervous crackling that came from mouths of some of our most famous songstresses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZnWKTOgflPVKGEy2kgKAoGXNvhZJCLid4rq29J4wvCies48oGeE3kR36Cz810Taukcy46NXI6SoB6CCfeC6KgbFputjzZYv50_ya8CBb0kaC18PWbU01qahL-9P2uSO-4s7rWolfTDyP/s1600/article-2571853-1BFB3B5000000578-97_964x652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZnWKTOgflPVKGEy2kgKAoGXNvhZJCLid4rq29J4wvCies48oGeE3kR36Cz810Taukcy46NXI6SoB6CCfeC6KgbFputjzZYv50_ya8CBb0kaC18PWbU01qahL-9P2uSO-4s7rWolfTDyP/s1600/article-2571853-1BFB3B5000000578-97_964x652.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">U2 performed up to par and offered a bit of bonus entertainment when Bono kneeled to the ground and almost crawled off stage in his two-inch heels. (Tinted glasses and darkened rooms aren't usually a smart mix.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My favorite performance of the night was my boo, Pharrell Williams, jauntily singing "Happy" while simultaneously preventing forest fires. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He even made the extra effort to trot offstage and take turns dancing with the female nominees that were seated in the front row. Starting with Lupita, swaying in her Nairobi blue. Moving on to Meryl, who busted out some seated Mama Mia moves. And, ending with Amy Adams, who cast an adorable "I killed this dance-off!" look on her face as she sat back down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Other highlights included the largest celebrity </span>megaselfie<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> that, supposedly, shut down Twitter with its overload of </span>reTweets<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(In that selfie moment, pesty Liza Minnelli got left out of the cool crowd that even Lupita Nyong'os nonfamous brother was eagerly welcomed into. <i>"Back here! I know what a selfie is now! It's me, guys! Liza, with a 'Z'!"</i>)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At one point, Ellen sensed the hunger rippling through the crowd that had been onsite for hours and suggested ordering some pizza. I thought to myself, "If she really follows through with the pizza bit, Ellen will be my hero." So, in thirty minutes or less, I obtained a new hero.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She and a </span><a href="http://bigmamaspizza.com/" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">Big Mama and Papa</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s Pizza delivery man handed out hot slices to the hungry elite. (I'm venturing a guess that the Minnelli clan may have also left out of the grub.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCW6Ls069w-hoFBqYDyNECwnCpC0mwtzPsLGUg34snMhhV0OZjF9lxX2SlhtptWOXqVvFLFbz4guRcWWR7YUile63tNq6Zn27VXI9pnXLFFdl3o8jS8zkGCNQcdncyjCDgFEnCkWuy8Sr/s1600/Pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCW6Ls069w-hoFBqYDyNECwnCpC0mwtzPsLGUg34snMhhV0OZjF9lxX2SlhtptWOXqVvFLFbz4guRcWWR7YUile63tNq6Zn27VXI9pnXLFFdl3o8jS8zkGCNQcdncyjCDgFEnCkWuy8Sr/s1600/Pizza.jpg" height="112" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3llJJ5yYP4YwAoGVXyQ_o-AaWYxNap8hNY85XEKM0X1_BfnCRH1-5IfavvIjnA-MuuVisYUqiF5T-uMZVAzmoS0wjZ7OZhLfDMYMKw-icFKAaF8tgSY7N5FHyFDkIqyysFjSFY8qLiA7e/s1600/JuliaMerylPizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3llJJ5yYP4YwAoGVXyQ_o-AaWYxNap8hNY85XEKM0X1_BfnCRH1-5IfavvIjnA-MuuVisYUqiF5T-uMZVAzmoS0wjZ7OZhLfDMYMKw-icFKAaF8tgSY7N5FHyFDkIqyysFjSFY8qLiA7e/s1600/JuliaMerylPizza.jpg" height="138" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This was all fun, but there was one moment that has me still chuckling today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No, it wasn't Jennifer Lawrence tripping and falling, once again. Been there, done that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Was it Ellen introducing Kristen Bell and "Kristen B. Elle"? Close.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was John Travolta bringing out Idina Menzel to perform "Let it Go", but nonsensically referring to her as "The wickedly talented, one and only, <i>Adele Dazeem!</i>"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I thought I had heard him wrong during the broadcast. But, by morning, the internet had confirmed for me that John Travolta cannot read a teleprompter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It wasn't even funny at the time. But, once a slight gaffe meets the bored hands of its witnesses, all funny heck breaks loose!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oscar bloopers. The gift that keep on giv-ziggi-ning!</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-58924094622255536042014-01-27T21:17:00.000-05:002014-08-02T20:13:28.663-04:00Grammy Wrap-Up 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After a lackluster Red Carpet and a ho-hum (but non-offensive) hosting job by LL Cool J, I had leery feelings about this year's Grammy Awards. Fortunately, soon after, several memorable performances were able to pick up the slack and keep my finger off the remote.</div>
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<i>This </i>is your 2014 Grammy Wrap-up.</div>
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<b>The Fashion:</b> I'll skip my usual red carpet walk-through, 'cause I don't want to bore you with the Gaga-less pre-show that we were forced to endure. Let's just quickly tick the most talked-about looks off the list:<br />
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<b>Taylor Swift: </b>I've been happy to see Taylor trying something a little more grown-up these past few red carpet walks. Grammy night, she made a very rock 'n roll effort in shoulder to toe chain mail. My sources* tell me she asked her stylist to "Find me something as hard and heavy as my cold cold broken heart." (*Sources=The voices in my head.)</div>
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<b>Katy Perry: </b>A vision in treble clef.</div>
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<b>Madonna: </b>I was honestly surprised at the shock and awe the red carpet commentators showed over Madonna's look of the night. I mean, come on people. It's the twenty-first century and she's 55 now. Let's not be amazed that the lady finally put on a pair of pants.</div>
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<b>Pharrell's Hat: </b>I adore Pharrell as I would a newborn kitten. He's usually the first man on-point on any red carpet, stage and probably even, grocery store. So, what was with the Addidas jacket/Mountie hat combo? It's like he ran into the costume shop grazing one arm down the Run DMC rack and while the other got tangled up in camping goods. At least he could boast the warmest head in the nation during this polar vortex, if nothing else.</div>
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<b>Macklemore: </b>My boo decided to forgo the thrift shop for the biggest music night of the year and ended up looking tame and handsome in his velvet suit. (His male secretary looks pretty spiffy too.)</div>
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<b>[Shake, Shake] You can wake up from your fashion coma now!</b></div>
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<b>Let's move onto the Show:</b> </div>
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<b>The Performances:</b><br />
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A shapely figure appears out of the shadows. She's curvy (so, not Miley), pantsless (can't be Madonna), steamy (is it Rihanna?) and she's starting to sing (...oops. <i>Can't </i>be Rihanna.)</div>
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As the camera finally pans to our opening diva's face we realize, <b>"Oh, it's Beyonce!" </b>I knew <b>Beyonce and Jay-Z</b> were slated to perform, once again, together on the Grammy stage. I just didn't realize I was in for a case of the <i>major </i>TMIs. Let's just make this short and sweet by saying the couple offered us an intimate peek into their bedroom (sorry, <i>kitchen...</i>) life. By the time Jay was rapping, "I am Ike Turner. Baby know I don't play. Eat the cake Anna Mae. Said eat the cake Anna Mae!" with his wife grinning behind him, I was begging, "Keep your domestic abuse fantasies to yourself next time!"</div>
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<b>Lorde </b>took the stage just in time to cleanse the palate with an elegantly stripped-down version of "Royals". I just couldn't decide if the irony of the lyrics was completely lost on her audience that night, or if they'd just come to accept their jet planes, islands, tigers-on-their-gold-leash status.</div>
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I've been so impressed with the growth and maturity of<b> Katy Perry </b>this year. (Of which, I oddly credit to her relationship with John Mayer. Call him what you want, but he does net the recognition of being a true musician.) I was taking this all in as her "Dark Horse" performance began. "Look at her hair. Her graceful dancing. What a lady she's becoming." Then her boobs lit up.</div>
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<b>Kendrick Lamar with Imagine Dragons</b> set me to head-banging (<i>gentle </i>head-banging. I have a tender neck.) with their "Maad City/Radioactive" mash-up. Two things that stood out in this collaboration. One: Their obvious inspiration by someone's participation in a Color Run. Two: Their cooperation in sharing percussion duties.</div>
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Speaking of Head-banging: <b>Taylor Swift</b>'s<b> </b>"All Too Well" performance I found to be actually enjoyable for a change. I rooted this girl on throughout her teens, impressed by her writing her own music and running her own empire at such a young age. But, once her twenties came along, "the change" never happened that you usually see in artists at this crossroad. She was still complaining about boys breaking up with her. But, guess what Taylor? That's what boys do. That's what men do. That's why you've amassed your own huge fortune to support yourself with. Welcome to the age of feminism! But, I can't lie and say I don't enjoy the short-lived game of Guess Who? that's involved each time a new single is released. "Who's this one about?" A quick Google search tells me Jake Gyllenhaal. Truth in lyrics? I don't know. Something tells me if she really left her scarf at Maggie Gyllenhaal's house, it's most like being used as a baby sling. (And, it's time to make a choice Taylor. Turn left, turn right... it's your choice. But, you GOT to move forward. That's what happens at the crossroad.)</div>
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<b>Pink </b>took to the aerial silks once again for her "Try" performance, reminding us she will always have a fall-back career in the Cirque du Soleil.</div>
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<b>Robin Thicke and Chicago </b>filled their ho-hum duties by being one of the less-stellar old school/new school match-ups of the night. Chicago did earn ten extra bonus points from me, however, by managing to keep their butt-cracks off of Robin during the "Blurred Lines" segment.</div>
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<b>Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Kris Kristofferson </b>and newly dubbed Highwayman <b>Blake Shelton </b>kicked up some country bumpkin fun with a nostalgic performance of "Oakie from Muskogee" and "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys". I was impressed with the number of hot shots in the audience who managed to sing along through the entire medley. It seems we all shared the same family road trip experiences.</div>
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<b>Metallica </b>plus classical pianist <b>Lang Lang </b>had us first saying "Huh?" and then screaming "MORE!!!" And, how shallow (and old) do I sound when I mention that they're all still as hot as ever? Metallica, that is. Not Lang. Well, fine Lang... we'll give you one night only of hot-by-association.</div>
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Which leaves us with <b>Macklemore, Mary Lambert, Madonna and Queen Latifah</b> (I'd mention Ryan Lewis too, but I'm still not sure what he actually does. Macklemore's fluffer?) with their beautiful ceremonial collaboration of "Same Love" and (seriously) "Open Your Heart". (Am I the only one who could have done without the "Open Your Heart"?) I use the word ceremonial with good reason too. There was actually a wedding ceremony performed during the medley! 33 couples (a mix of both gay and straight) wed to the lull of Mary Lambert cooing, "She keeps me warm ♫" while Queen Latifah performed the vow recital with, apparently, some sort of power vested in her. I was surprised at the odd backlash this segment received online immediately afterward. Not even over the issue of gay marriage, but because an awards show was seemingly not an appropriate place to hold a wedding ceremony. And, drunken in a Vegas drive-thru is?! Call me tacky, but if this is controversy, then point the finger of judgement directly at me too. I'm sorry, but weddings are boring. The commitment is beautiful, but the event is usually such a snooze. If I ever bite the bullet myself one day, may it <i>please </i>be at an awards show, with a half-sleeve tattoo and Mack, Mar and Mo as witnesses.</div>
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<b>And, all the Rest... (ie. other uncategorized moments)</b></div>
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What? Huh? I understood the presence of <b>Anna Kendrick</b>. She is a sanger now too, you know. (Not to mention, a delightful presenter.) But, <b>Julia Roberts</b>? <b>Jeremy Renner</b>? I fail to see the presenter connection here. And, I welcome Jeremy Renner anywhere, <i>anytime </i>with open arms... but, huh? Don't they have enough red carpet looks to worry about this season.</div>
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After the fun Guess Who? game during Taylor Swift's song, my brain just could not shut off. This led to me tabulating during the <b>In Memoriam </b>segment. And, if the averages of the list are to be believed, the three most deadly music genres: country, jazz and classical piano. (But, you might want to check my math on that...)</div>
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<b>Jay-Z</b> dedicates Best Rap Collaboration win for "Holy Grail" to God. (Lyric sample: "Blue told me to remind you n-----s. F--k that sh-t y'all talkin' about. I'm the n---a, caught up in all these lights and cameras. But, look what that sh-t did to Hammer. G-d d-mn it I like it.") To which God replied, "No thanks, I'm good."</div>
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<b>Daft Punk </b>were the princes (or princesses? Who really knows what's going on under there) of the night winning four big categories. They could only share their thanks through an interpreter, but I have a sneaking suspicion they may have wed during the mass ceremony, undetected.</div>
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I saved a very special award for last. </div>
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The Best Audience Member trophy goes to <b>Steven Tyler</b>!</div>
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He sang along, shimmied and rocked his brains out to every performance that came along. Then as presenter he literally sang his praises to his co-presenter, the great Smoky Robinson. Why? Because someone handed him a microphone and he's Steven Tyler. May everyone have this much fun this award season.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-22294834127187632182014-01-01T18:12:00.000-05:002014-08-02T20:13:28.634-04:00American Hustle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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David O. Russell is my favorite director of the 21st century. As you can imagine, after this pronouncement, my expectations were way up in the clouds before I went to see his newest film <i>American Hustle </i>this afternoon.<br />
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What I love about Russell's role as director is that he's doesn't go about his job in the obvious Hollywood way. He's not known for making your token mob movies, romantic comedies, bombs and blasts thrillers or historic period pieces. He's created his own brand that can't really be defined in "business" terms.<br />
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His latest three movies centered around a boxer, a bipolar mending his life and a couple of con artists. Or were they about a junkie, a dance contest and government corruption? There's no clear way to say.<br />
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The reason David O. Russell can't be pinned to a genre is because he transcends the term. His movie-making style, rather than be plot-driven, comes from his hallmark brilliance in creating fully fleshed out characters as his theme instead. Characters that live and breathe. Stories touched with familial conflict and complex love stories that are never nice, neat or fairy tale driven. Often raw, always believable and very real.<br />
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He makes dramas, but with large enough doses of comedy to make them watchable. And, rewatchable. And, then purchasable when that time comes. Rewatchable dramas are really hard to come by, if you think about it.<br />
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Important stories can be beautifully cinematic, but not always enjoyable. I didn't buy <i><a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2012/12/lincoln.html" target="_blank">Lincoln</a> </i>on DVD, even though it was on my top five list of last years releases. But, I've watched <i>Silver Linings Playbook </i>and <i>The Fighter </i>more times than I can count.<br />
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I guess maybe that is Russell's very special genre. Watchable drama. He knows that stories that are real or gritty or hard or full of pain, shouldn't be deprived of lightness and humor. LIFE is real and gritty and hard and full of pain, but who has never laughed? I'm glad someone in charge of our entertainment has come to realize this.<br />
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So did <i>Hustle </i>meet the D.O.R. standard? Pfft... <i>yeah!</i><br />
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Once again, he's chosen from his favorite returning team players, adding a few fresh faces into the mix to keep the ball rolling. His dream team of modern talent:<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>Amy Adams</b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Back in the saddle with Russell after her amazing turn in <i>The Fighter. </i>Brilliantly playing the female lead con, Sydney/Edith... whoever she is. Her most </span>enigmatic role to date. <span style="text-align: left;">She's been nominated before, she's come awfully close, but with this performance she's practically demanding her Oscar already!</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>Bradley Cooper</b></span></div>
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Back from his <i>Silver Linings Playbook </i>nomination, Cooper plays FBI agent Richie DiMaso in an equally intriguing and hilarious performance. (And with a better perm than I've ever had!) I was never sure if I was rooting for him or against the entire film, but I was certainly glad to be in the audience. (<a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2013/02/2013-oscar-picks.html" target="_blank">I said it last year</a> and I'll say it again, "No more <i>Hangover </i>movies!")</div>
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<b>Jeremy Renner</b></div>
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I am a HUGE Jeremy Renner fan. I've always thought of him as being one of the most overlooked and underused talents in today's cinema world. So, I was ecstatic to see that Russell added him to his cast list. (Meaning there's a great chance of seeing him in future David O. Russell projects.) Looking adorable in his pompadour (making me think he should do only period pieces from here on out), Renner delivered a career-standout performance as New Jersey Mayor Polito. Heartfelt, slick, tender and charismatic. I'm rooting for him at the SAG Awards, disappointed in the oversight for a Golden Globe and crossing my fingers for a surprise Oscar nomination.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>Jennifer Lawrence </b></span></div>
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Back with Russell after her Oscar win for <i>Silver Linings Playbook,</i> Lawrence delivers once again as expected. Nutty, heartbreaking and hilarious all at once, she can expect to be busy once again this award season. (And, seeing that her role as Rosayln was a supporting one, we can root for both her and Adams this year and not feel the need to choose a favorite between the two.)</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>Christian Bale</b></span></div>
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Teaming with Russell for a second time after his winning role in <i>The Fighter</i>, what more can be said about the talent that is Christian Bale? Always magnificent, never duplicated. He is easily the most dependably amazing and diverse performers of the modern era. Unrecognizable, once again. A busy award season should be his expected M.O. for the season (and, for the remainder of his career.)<br />
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I'm not going to give you a plot review or any hints about twists and turns. With film-making like this, no such reviews are necessary. If you want to see a great director turn out amazing performances from his beyond stellar cast, go see <i>American Hustle. </i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-63850544152116970412014-01-01T12:01:00.000-05:002014-08-02T20:13:28.671-04:00Would-Like-to-Do-tions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not a resolution kind of gal. I'm not into making promises that I don't intend to keep. The Bible says that God delights in those who keep their promises (Proverbs 12:22), so I've always been a woman of my word. Of few words. Of <i>very </i>few promised and spoken words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If I ever make you a promise, know I've thought it through carefully and take it uber seriously. (With an act of God clause attached, of course.) It's nice to delight the Lord and others. It's not so nice to fake out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Therefore in 2014, I resolve <i><b>nothing</b>. </i>I see everyone posting their vows today and it's all very inspiring. So in substitution, I'll instead announce my Would-Like-to-Do-tions for this year:</span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Follow the THINK rule (above) more often before speaking. Stop trying to convince myself that "is it funny?" is one of them. If there were an F in think, it'd be fink. Don't be one!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blog more. <a href="http://auntswalk.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">BOTH blogs</a>. People are forgetting that I know more than just the state of pop culture.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sew more. The Christmas gift rush of quilts was back-breaking work, but satisfying. Practice makes perfect. One day the binding will come out even and the quilt-stitching free of lumpy seams!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Taper off on the holiday feeding frenzy. More protein, less carbs. And what is a hypoglycemic doing with all of those sugary snacks? No wonder I'm feeling so lop-sided and sleepy. Nightly nacho snacks are also a holiday binge. There's no holidays left this season. Cut it down to maybe 2-3 times a week.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Exercise more. Because everybody says this. And, let's face it, I need to.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Go see a couple movies. Award season is upon us.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Save my way closer to home ownership. I'd like to finally see if <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/kim4216/if-ever-i-own-a-home/" target="_blank">all of this stuff</a> can fit into one place.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even though I've been scratching and saving, I should allow myself at least one vacation this year. Even if it's just a weekend trip. Even if it's just one county over. Responsibility is making me a little stir crazing.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wait! I do have one resolution I know I can follow through on and that I am not ashamed to solemly vow for fear of punking out later:</span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I vow to trim my bangs. They are starting to get in my eyes.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy 2014! Make it true. Make is helpful. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Make it</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> inspiring. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Make it</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> necessary. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Make it</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> kind. (And, maybe a little bit funny too...)</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-74254744172098278502013-12-31T20:24:00.003-05:002014-08-02T20:13:28.682-04:002013 Year in Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Best Of, Worst Of... what's the diff? </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is An Aunt's Life's 2013 year in review!</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Click links for more)</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>IN MUSIC:</b></span></span></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Macklemore (and that guy he hangs out with) winning up a storm at this year's awards circuit. The music world was primed and ready for a fresh-voiced M.C. who treasures his <a href="http://vimeo.com/56256943" target="_blank">thrift shop</a> wares over the other guys' iced-out bling. (Did you catch the <a href="http://www.eonline.com/news/477848/macklemore-gives-future-mother-in-law-a-surprise-home-makeover-watch-now" target="_blank">E! special</a> featuring another peek at the rapper with the softer side? In it, Mackelmore treats his future mother-in-law to a surprise home makeover. Adorable!)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">2013 was <i>my </i>introduction to the always suave Robin Thicke (Also the world's introduction to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FGZ8_LeNGY" target="_blank">Blurred Lines: Cosby Edition</a>.) Hey hey hey!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Miley Cyrus helped us all sharpen our comedy skills <a href="http://auntslife.blogspot.com/2013/08/gaga-vs-miley-2013-vmas.html" target="_blank">while she poked out our eyes with her tail bone</a>. Simultaneously, she managed to leave a snail trail of saliva across the nation to which a large enough stockpile of Clorox wipes has not yet been found to reverse the effects. (Maybe they'll work on my eyes, though...)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Justin Bieber finally jumped the shark. (Oh great! I just gave him another idea, didn't I?)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jared Leto's (sorry... Thirty Seconds to Mars') <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqPATbDhrb4" target="_blank">cover of </a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqPATbDhrb4" target="_blank">Rihanna's "Stay"</a>. A great way to listen to a good Rihanna song without having to actually listen to Rihanna. (Alright, you caught me. I liked her version too.)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Will.i.am sues Pharrell Williams over his "i am Other" brand. I picture next year's turf battle to be Marshall Mathers vs the "My Name Is" badges at Office Max. Stickers, you're going DOWN!</span></li>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ON TV:</span></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8yjJU5NAXzogSig3k7uMYSeyty6YK97GK8Cmmbp5Nou1y2iLTtiBFNakcwYFnari2G0TrghqJLwHuCw_RZtK-8TgthyphenhyphentG6unxTdaTW0bcnZII0NHWTOMvm4dKPS2BamaKy4jwpemOd3O/s1600/BreakingBad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8yjJU5NAXzogSig3k7uMYSeyty6YK97GK8Cmmbp5Nou1y2iLTtiBFNakcwYFnari2G0TrghqJLwHuCw_RZtK-8TgthyphenhyphentG6unxTdaTW0bcnZII0NHWTOMvm4dKPS2BamaKy4jwpemOd3O/s320/BreakingBad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Always late to the party, I finally got into <i><a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/breaking-bad" target="_blank">Breaking Bad</a></i> during its final season. I thought it was on HBO! I don't have HBO! I finished up season five with the rest of the planet (leading into what was, arguably, the best series finale in television history) and I've enjoyed binge-watching its past seasons ever since. Yes! I fit five seasons of TV-watching into one calendar year. What did you do?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a growing annoyance over the terms "granite countertops" and "stainless steel appliances", I finally managed to find a group of women snobbier than the young housewives on <i>House Hunters. </i>The middle-aged housewives buying vacation homes on <i>House Hunters International</i>!<i> </i>Quit looking for an American kitchen in a non-American home! Like you're <i>really </i>going to be cooking a full Thanksgiving dinner once a week in the Caribbean!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Bates Motel </i>was a perfect mesh of creepy, intrigue, drama and fabulous acting. And I don't even like scary stuff! <a href="http://www.aetv.com/bates-motel" target="_blank">Catch up on season one</a> before the next season begins in 2014. (P.S. Wahoo to Vera Farmiga and her Emmy nomination!)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I got conned into watching <i>David Blaine: Real or Magic? </i>in which he pierced a knitting needle clean through his own tricep and threw up a belly full of water. Thus, answering the title's pressing question.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Cell phone advertisers stepped it up a notch this year with hilarious bits from the kiddies pushing AT&T. (In my opinion, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHMH-R6g4vs" target="_blank">the red-headed kid from the turtle one</a> and the young lass whom I'm deemed <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDL8V_Xu8us" target="_blank">Werewolf Girl</a> should start traveling with an entourage. Of adoption agents. Because I want to own them!) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRibRj770J8&list=PLCt4iTv8uk5Q5D78hxwLFjHGZt4RhFT-f" target="_blank">The James Earl Jones and Malcolm McDowell spots for Sprint </a>also scored big with me. Totes magotes.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7vQt6AoSc0" target="_blank"><i>Glee</i>'s farewell to Finn episode</a> nearly killed me. Providing me with instant onset depression and a crying headache that lasted for days!</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSvZ3tY8XOpwyNUDcO4Gz7jGMS_FBwthCO2BpF68YLNpXvnPotnB6Qhyphenhyphenro6DJTFMZpPluibv0C7IrEQJeSWXgH9ezxuM-O66WGWmcJfc_gVfSoMLajI_4mveBl6SX-IunadPc8a1MZMmT/s1600/LENNON-AND-MAISY-HO-HEY-facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSvZ3tY8XOpwyNUDcO4Gz7jGMS_FBwthCO2BpF68YLNpXvnPotnB6Qhyphenhyphenro6DJTFMZpPluibv0C7IrEQJeSWXgH9ezxuM-O66WGWmcJfc_gVfSoMLajI_4mveBl6SX-IunadPc8a1MZMmT/s320/LENNON-AND-MAISY-HO-HEY-facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm not much a fan of country music or soap operas, yet </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nashville </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">managed to still get me thoroughly hooked. Besides. Who can resist </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=om9O_5PUIyg" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">the real-life Stella sisters</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://teamcoco.com/video/louis-ck-springsteen-cell-phone" target="_blank">Louie C.K.'s hilariously truthful rant </a>on cell phones (and kids, and life, etc.) on Conan was worth staying up late for.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Under the Dome </i>won me over just in time for the Time Warner/CBS dispute that took it off the air. (Thanks to modern technology, we could still watch it <a href="http://www.cbs.com/shows/under-the-dome/" target="_blank">here</a>!) If you can't get into the plot, you can at least play my Spot the Killed Off/Canceled Actor game. (Head start: Hank from <i>Breaking Bad, </i>Deputy Shelby from <i>Bates Motel, </i>Lt. Mason from <i>Detroit 187, </i>the original Victoria from <i>Twilight</i>...)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ABC Family canceled Bunheads, whose young dancers <a href="http://popwatch.ew.com/2013/08/26/bunheads-farewell/" target="_blank">decided to handle it like the pros that they are</a>.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And, for the Detroit locals, <a href="http://www.myfoxdetroit.com/story/22883706/ben-bailey-announces-he-is-leaving-wjbk-fox-2" target="_blank">Ben Bailey left the Fox 2 morning team</a>. Leaving me still longing for my forecasts, handsome with a chance of dimples.</span></li>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">IN MOVIES:</span></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8QcpaTbGK9Q3iCX0F703GjXbjpQ4rRp6P8BbzRaT6ckdAOat0WcJMOA8XqbQ4HMwnrmEzs2gcyZ-ggvSYn_BITUvRd5WSU0pnLDCwp7kU42mn25JGYGbsM4YFLoGKMx-RTvu5Ivk_h3C_/s1600/Disney-Frozen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8QcpaTbGK9Q3iCX0F703GjXbjpQ4rRp6P8BbzRaT6ckdAOat0WcJMOA8XqbQ4HMwnrmEzs2gcyZ-ggvSYn_BITUvRd5WSU0pnLDCwp7kU42mn25JGYGbsM4YFLoGKMx-RTvu5Ivk_h3C_/s320/Disney-Frozen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>Frozen. </i>So, I may be a little behind on my yearly Oscar nominee binge. Maybe, <i>all the way </i>behind. As in, I haven't seen much (any) grown-up stuff (like, at all!) this year, but have caught plenty of cartoons with my nephews. Either way, I would still highly recommend Disney's newest animated film <i>Frozen</i> to anyone. I loved it. Little girls all fell in love with the newest princess characters. My nephews loved the humor and bits of action. It was a win-win-win all around. BEST Disney animated princess movie since <i>Beauty and the Beast. </i>I'll stand by that, too!</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>CAST REUNIONS THAT MADE US FEEL OLD:</b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2G8lXgZQtKm2S48brkgNbGuWFNb9hrlrcG87YG9p-PbhSYHbBN56bvkwl6gi_xt2jFZ5qino2qSJ3PqstluB7hP-ucc7tufMpUFjF55UY3HxwZ0UFqJm6Ovs9S9hyphenhyphenQipKTriDwPD77MO/s1600/SCHOOL-OF-ROCK-570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2G8lXgZQtKm2S48brkgNbGuWFNb9hrlrcG87YG9p-PbhSYHbBN56bvkwl6gi_xt2jFZ5qino2qSJ3PqstluB7hP-ucc7tufMpUFjF55UY3HxwZ0UFqJm6Ovs9S9hyphenhyphenQipKTriDwPD77MO/s320/SCHOOL-OF-ROCK-570.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">School of Rock (10 years! Really?!)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIpkHHAhVg-52nfi1pNKBpZUicgUVInZD7eRN0SV7oVA4EUn2SiILxQ6A0yEOTe7lswui_W4zfsf88wpY2vPfDfMZe2HyZYYF_3MYIP7XLBpYfMHyFIrXPwSwfS1ED5YCnZElSQ-zXp_g/s1600/Mystic-Pizza-Now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIpkHHAhVg-52nfi1pNKBpZUicgUVInZD7eRN0SV7oVA4EUn2SiILxQ6A0yEOTe7lswui_W4zfsf88wpY2vPfDfMZe2HyZYYF_3MYIP7XLBpYfMHyFIrXPwSwfS1ED5YCnZElSQ-zXp_g/s320/Mystic-Pizza-Now.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mystic Pizza</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-uvOR6_dZZs3p8ZnnTg5rSr28BEyTR3aR5xIbP9rlJGNmXhQRHnHXLWHb0ejfhBrIk7gPDf9j-y-WuMD66EKazm561DbRmqqx1QZVsI3IqZXjlMpx5HCpqDDK6nk4Rizey9-CjSopfUR/s1600/BoyMeetsWorld.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-uvOR6_dZZs3p8ZnnTg5rSr28BEyTR3aR5xIbP9rlJGNmXhQRHnHXLWHb0ejfhBrIk7gPDf9j-y-WuMD66EKazm561DbRmqqx1QZVsI3IqZXjlMpx5HCpqDDK6nk4Rizey9-CjSopfUR/s320/BoyMeetsWorld.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Boy Meets World</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sHN2F3QFvHD91d9TFs3f5MSjAqxTzxRi5cW4LP7etSHWj7u0Luo3pS_L4iqzibMyYyQ9WSPjTsk0BJouOKVWtw7hifNOUDIK-rgyoX0nTsjAS3T-SMEyWcSy4KAvquk528kHGZ_Z7fih/s1600/Freaks+and+Geeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sHN2F3QFvHD91d9TFs3f5MSjAqxTzxRi5cW4LP7etSHWj7u0Luo3pS_L4iqzibMyYyQ9WSPjTsk0BJouOKVWtw7hifNOUDIK-rgyoX0nTsjAS3T-SMEyWcSy4KAvquk528kHGZ_Z7fih/s320/Freaks+and+Geeks.jpg" width="309" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Freaks and Geeks</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZxcsLWNeY5iRl8siqBAX0RQUXQNC4HQyQcoSi_tMSlaMnjkh3slbayrkb-K1ksIB3ZCUhwfgrs3DAacBxqiYiHG58iNAZKoVZ9hlabqDyBaQQ6EX3Q2LY56BNetf6l9bT4dfBXVSqaNE/s1600/Sandlot.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZxcsLWNeY5iRl8siqBAX0RQUXQNC4HQyQcoSi_tMSlaMnjkh3slbayrkb-K1ksIB3ZCUhwfgrs3DAacBxqiYiHG58iNAZKoVZ9hlabqDyBaQQ6EX3Q2LY56BNetf6l9bT4dfBXVSqaNE/s320/Sandlot.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Sandlot </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQmM112_ntQpw2inIUp79HZIEYE8BtmLWLK6PH9gzjjZiYoO6XHWe7w2oY42fWYADDFtei7g2FpPR4GNxQjVLntI9LAjnA49p53rm2QnWKD1XCrhriumqgF0xzb-RacvyoUQ_1t8q7Q9k/s1600/WaynesWorld.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQmM112_ntQpw2inIUp79HZIEYE8BtmLWLK6PH9gzjjZiYoO6XHWe7w2oY42fWYADDFtei7g2FpPR4GNxQjVLntI9LAjnA49p53rm2QnWKD1XCrhriumqgF0xzb-RacvyoUQ_1t8q7Q9k/s320/WaynesWorld.png" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wayne's World</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4i_wx1o09QPSMsxrb8emczvw_YJXm63zLtWoh5f7uBsSxoMXTP2AijdUoC8SdjVI9k3ZnCrxbrLNpW4jw7T3fo1abJUILl9qkLyC0PlL0cebORurwHXHCXWPZv2xCVGgMHtVL9ffjRvo4/s1600/FullHouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4i_wx1o09QPSMsxrb8emczvw_YJXm63zLtWoh5f7uBsSxoMXTP2AijdUoC8SdjVI9k3ZnCrxbrLNpW4jw7T3fo1abJUILl9qkLyC0PlL0cebORurwHXHCXWPZv2xCVGgMHtVL9ffjRvo4/s320/FullHouse.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Full House. Not just here, but...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxu8715rRqet91aAuI-caK1HtJY7wiwDjFxJi6yv7XNiN3ODAiTY3dWPfH7_9A1awNrKf4b_jRI2odUKMKx9NtTj8EruXJU1laU6vWYpg5Mc7-oNL9maXNJn1GjW9KQad9APwwdCfqZ6oB/s1600/Full+House+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxu8715rRqet91aAuI-caK1HtJY7wiwDjFxJi6yv7XNiN3ODAiTY3dWPfH7_9A1awNrKf4b_jRI2odUKMKx9NtTj8EruXJU1laU6vWYpg5Mc7-oNL9maXNJn1GjW9KQad9APwwdCfqZ6oB/s320/Full+House+2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">...Kimmy Gibler and D.J. Tanner were also spotted at a NKOTB concert together!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ57Wkj7Wdoot89J70WJlWebw3gVEPQFrJywYf_Nv4vVPJIn_V8ONI-IT8M2OcunplSisWWLDnkr-6O1GE-T4_QZsz6f1FNu9FQ1Je5_IvVMQPquq9ty1JeI2NxjHkGHQYfBn02q3BW1Ra/s1600/Jennie-Garth-and-Tori-Spelling-filming-a-TV-series.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ57Wkj7Wdoot89J70WJlWebw3gVEPQFrJywYf_Nv4vVPJIn_V8ONI-IT8M2OcunplSisWWLDnkr-6O1GE-T4_QZsz6f1FNu9FQ1Je5_IvVMQPquq9ty1JeI2NxjHkGHQYfBn02q3BW1Ra/s320/Jennie-Garth-and-Tori-Spelling-filming-a-TV-series.jpg" width="273" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then there's also the complete possibility that <a href="http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20743273,00.html" target="_blank"><i>this </i>is going to happen</a>!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ON THE WEB</span></b></span><br />
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<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This year I quit Candy Crush. Cold turkey. (But, may find myself in need of a Papa Pear Saga support group in 2014.)</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pinterest. Where had you been all my life while I busied myself on Facebook? Sorry to have ignored you for so long. Equally inspiring and enabling. I demand that you all now follow me <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/kim4216/" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two words. <a href="http://elitedaily.com/humor/family-makes-viral-christmas-card/" target="_blank">Christmas Jammies</a>. Love it or hate it, it happened and it's stuck in your head now, isn't it? Mwah-ha-ha-HA!!!</span></li>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><a href="http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1862130-dance-battle-between-an-usher-and-a-young-fan-breaks-out-during-a-pistons-game" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">Dance battle in Detroit</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. </span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://medium.com/thoughts-on-creativity/6f4cb1886d41" target="_blank">Dinovember</a>. Read it. Live it. Be it!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/349873464772980307/" target="_blank">Best reasons for detention</a>. They really are.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What <i>did </i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE" target="_blank">the fox say</a>? Certainly not that!</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This blog brought in new readership with the continuously curious mix of search words including "Charlie Brown Violet Brat", "Fancy Comforters", "Garfield Halloween Cartoon Scary" and the ever popular "Meth Mouth" still being used. (I also hit over 7,600 page views and counting this year. Thank you muchly!)</span></li>
</ul>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">LET'S LEAVE IT BEHIND IN 2013:</span></b></div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hot Dog Leg pics. Let's pretend these never happened.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Twerking. Saying it, watching it on YouTube and, for heaven's sake, actually <i>doing </i>it! Let's just stop all of the above in 2014.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Michael Bolton hustling for Honda. At first, I was like "Awww... I didn't realize that I'd missed Michael Bolton." Then after hearing it air every 20 minutes or so, non-stop, I decided that maybe I was just thinking about <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7DdyChR8JU" target="_blank">Office Space</a></i>. (Okay, fine. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9fX2r7eQ78" target="_blank">This one</a> <i>is</i> better than <a href="http://www.ispot.tv/ad/75JA/honda-happy-honda-days-accord-featuring-michael-bolton" target="_blank">that one</a> if I <i>have </i>to choose.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Real Housewives. All of them! Bravo has created a monster and now that monster must be slain.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO04rvgsoyQ" target="_blank">Harlem Shake</a>. It doesn't even have moves! C'mon on now. Learn to dance a little bit next year. Especially if you're going to record yourself doing it and post it everywhere. Even if it's just a little left-together, right-together. If that's the best you can muster, I'll take it over a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8f7wj_RcqYk" target="_blank">Harlem Shake</a>!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Celebrating train wrecks. Miley, Lindsey, Amanda Bynes, Kardshian marriages... let's stop looking at them. Let's revere the nice people instead of the shallow, and encourage the struggling instead gawking at them.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Kardashian overload. Take your Kanye and go!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Saying "totes" instead of "totally", unless you're <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRibRj770J8&list=PLCt4iTv8uk5Q5D78hxwLFjHGZt4RhFT-f" target="_blank">a distinguished man over the age of 70</a>.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every word that my spellcheck did not accept from this post: "bling", "twerking", "Miley", "Bieber", "Kanye", "countertops"... huh?... wait, "Macklemore", "Facebook", "NKOTB". Maybe I should rethink this last bulletpoint.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Have a happy, healthy and safe New Year! If you need a ride home tonight <a href="http://www.drinkinganddriving.org/tools/services.html#Jump_to_State" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a> and request one. Please don't drink and drive! It's just not cool.</b></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671162128728492751.post-76405229528564989132013-12-24T15:20:00.001-05:002014-12-13T11:33:48.237-05:00Melting Snowmen Cookies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The most fun I've had so far this holiday season was making the melting snowmen cookies that I found on Pinterest. (Sorry family, that not a slam to any gathering we've had so far...)<br />
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I made up instructions based on Pinterest pics I'd seen of the finished product. Since others have been looking for the "recipe", I figured I'd write out the instructions for you all here today:<br />
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<b>What you'll need:</b> 1.) Sugar cookie dough (or ingredients if you're showing off), 2.) White cookie icing, 3.) Colored decorating frosting. I used red and green for the scarves and black for the face, buttons and arms. Most important is that you choose a black frosting that comes with a fine tip; 4.) Large s'more-sized marshmellows. That's it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1v-QGG6NwIQDH7cGoNNYpxrkD5ZH_Vl6PzTUHhml3M38jL1AHz-Hl3-klKlbCnzSfqwHDIKMuULnjv_Qn9eXS-k63ynVFZ8sQO-TuY9qaXg-9VWpMhFoLCpPESWQT6VWD_dp9yDx3jTHm/s1600/P1140120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1v-QGG6NwIQDH7cGoNNYpxrkD5ZH_Vl6PzTUHhml3M38jL1AHz-Hl3-klKlbCnzSfqwHDIKMuULnjv_Qn9eXS-k63ynVFZ8sQO-TuY9qaXg-9VWpMhFoLCpPESWQT6VWD_dp9yDx3jTHm/s320/P1140120.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Step One:</b> Make your favorite sugar cookies. From scratch, break-off, cut-off, doesn't matter. You're going to impress people with your hilarity here, not your baking skills. I used the Pillsbury break-off kind. If you go that route, <i>please realize </i>that the cookies, as they're packaged, will be too small to accomodate the giant marshmellow. My pack came with 24 cookies. I cut 8 in half and rolled together 1.5 precut cookies to form a new, larger, dough ball for each. (Rolling the dough in a ball will also make the finished product nice and round.) For those fractionally impared, that will give you 16 finished cookies.<br />
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<b>Step Two: </b>Heat up the cookie icing following the directions on the back. I used Wilton's 10 oz white cookie icing tube, which was exactly enough for my 16 cookies. Once cookies have cooled, start squirting! I went haphazard style on my first few, but then realized that crossing back and forth in a flower-like or star pattern caused the glaze to melt as nicely as melting snow. You don't have to overdo it either. Don't try to cover every inch of the cookie. Once you've drawn your pattern, the blank spaces fill in quite nicely since this is more of a glaze medium we're working with. You'll see the spots you'll need to fill in within seconds. Don't waste your glaze! And, for heaven's sake, don't just frost the cookies all the way across like you normally do. These snowmen are dying and it has to be hilarious! If they don't carry the Wilton's (or a similar product) in your area, I'd recommend making your own glaze and using a pastry bag for application. If you use cake frosting from the can, you won't get the same effect. Don't say I didn't warn you!<br />
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<b>Step Three: </b>Add the marshmellow quickly, before the glaze sets. The glaze serves as the adhesive to keep your marshmellow on. These snowmen may be dying, but let them die with the diginity of having their heads attached. Don't place the marshmellow in the center, either. Put it more toward one edge so you can draw the body later on.<br />
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<b>Step Four:</b> Go to town! Wait, put the car keys down. Stay in the kitchen. That was just an expression meaning "Start having fun!" Draw the scarves on first. I used Wilton's icing in red and green that comes in the aerosol cans. I used the leaf tip for a more scarfy effect. Next draw the face, buttons and arms. (Don't forget the expressiveness of eyebrows!) I used some sort of black sparkle gel frosting that came in a little tube for this. It was the only kind of black icing I could find this time of year. Think ahead at Halloween time if you'd like more black decorative frosting options and buy early.<br />
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<b>Step Five: </b>Think of the children. I was having a grand ol' time make devastated-looking Frosties, but then I remember <i>Frosty</i>. And, all the kids that will be at the party I'm bringing these to. And, how they might begin to cry when they see I've baked Frosty after he'd already escaped from that evil magician. So I added a few smiley faces. Some snowmen like the sun! (See the movie <i>Frozen </i>for reference.) They think melting is quite ticklish. Smiling cookies are for the children. (Except maybe the one above on on the right. He appears to have suffered a gunshot wound to the head, due to icing not being my best medium.)<br />
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<b>Step Six: </b>Have a jolly holiday!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0