Bananas in Pyjamas

So my mate Birdie is recovering from a bit of major surgery, and after reading her post, and I hope she's not offended, but it immediately brought me back to memories of this:

Mostly because she spelled it like "Pyjamas" in that wonderfully British/Canadian/Australian way.

And also because I remember weekends at my first job in Atlanta, at WUPA, way back in 1996, when the world was my oyster.  I was working the overnight shift, Master Control, as in, controlling what people saw on their TVs if they happened to be up at 7am on Saturday mornings, or up at night watching infomercials.

Those were the days.

I worked in television for quite a long time.  Hell, I went to the University of Georgia to major in Journalism and my first job in my "field" was playing country music videos overnights at a local station in Athens, GA.

I still have a soft spot in my heart for Dwight Yoakam because of this, but even more so for Lyle Lovett, because his videos tended to run for at least 8-9 minutes and would afford me a brief nap on the couch in the studio in between commercial breaks.

I miss working in television and media.  My current job is so...blah.  Just as I miss working in a big city.  Yes, there are benefits to living in a smaller Southern town: less traffic, closer to my family, more laid back, etc, but I also miss the advantages of the bigger city...and the excitement...and the making near $60k a year when I make half that now.

But life is what it is, and I've done it to myself.  And life isn't all that bad...just a little on the boring side.

But despite what it looks like, I am not complaining, because I much prefer this life to what it was about three years ago.  Every day is another step forward.

My Mood Ring(tone) Of The Day:

PS: I especially love this clip from "Little Miss Sunshine", one of my most favorite movies ever, because I totally relate to the Steve Carell character, and his line in this scene pretty much sums up my feelings about people in general if they dare to cross me or one of my loved ones:

"Those fuckers...I will kill them..."

Save me Baby Jebus! It's a trap, Jim!

Everyone is always going on about the political agenda.

Well, I'd like to take a minute to bitch about the religious agenda.  More specifically, the Southern Baptist political agenda of a certain church that exists right down the street from me.

Yes, Breezy Hill Southern Baptist Church, I'm looking at you.

It seemed innocent enough.  For weeks they have been creating this grand spectacle of lights. SO grand, in fact, that I made the Rottenator stop by one night before they'd even opened so we could get a closer look.  We were hurried out, politely but firmly, and told to return the following Wednesday when they officially opened . The Rottenator had to work that night, so I waited...patiently...every night, passing by this on the way home, taunting me with the wondrous spectacle I would soon be able to explore.

Fast forward to Friday.  It started off well enough.  This is the archway you walk through to (supposedly) get to the wondrous display.

And then, to further tease us...

But then...a problem...you can kinda see it in the second picture up there...

Oh yeah.  You were not gonna get out of this without hearing the word of the Lord, heathen.  It was then that I began to realize that there was no Santa in sight in this cacophony of lights.

The second not so subtle hint came when we were corralled like cattle into a building that was eerily reminiscent of Jonestown. 

 Yes.  Sit and listen to our message and then maybe we will allow you to be thrown onto the back of a tractor and hurdled through a maze of lights at breakneck speed where you will be treated to refreshments at the end of it.

The  Rottenator was not having it, and I for once, was with him.  Bear in mind, he was only there out of protest because of me and my love of all things sparkly and bright, so he was ready to snap anyway.

Besides, we had a barbeque buffet to get to that he had been fantasizing about all day and god dammit, we were not going to miss it.

So after we walked the walk of the Damned back to the parking lot in the opposite flow of traffic, I had a few minutes to indulge my disappointment...and then I got pissed.

But even as I wrote that previous sentence, I'm now thinking...WHY exactly?  Why am I pissed that this church decided to put on a light (free, mind you) display in order to recruit welcome visitors to their place of worship and perhaps gain a few members?

I shouldn't be, I guess.  There were no false pretenses.  I mean, there were no signs saying you would have to sit and listen to a few Christmas songs before enjoying the lights, but hey, it is a church, a Southern Baptist one at that, and I should have known that there is always a catch or a hidden agenda when it comes to those people.

And if it seems that I'm bitter towards Southern Baptists in particular, you're god damn right I am.  I've known more than a few Southern Baptists in my time and have always found them to be the most judgemental self-righteous people on the planet who are more than eager to tell you that you are going straight to hell if you don't believe in their doctrine completely. 

But it's not just them; it's organized religion in general that I have an extreme distrust and dislike of. Because much like political beliefs, there is no actual logic behind them.  It has always been my policy to avoid discussing religion and politics with anyone I don't know very well because there is no rational thought process involved when it comes to beliefs and you are not going to change anyone's mind, and someone is gonna get pissed off, so why bother?

Especially as I am usually the one who ends up pissed off, and no longer respecting or liking someone I once considered a friend or relative.

So it's safer to leave those two topics off the table.

Bottom line, the first attempt at Christmas light viewing was a bust.  Except for the occasional view of a tackily decorated house in my neighborhood, because lemme tell you, no one decorates like a low-income person.  I mean that it the best possible way.  Why is it that the more money you have the more boring your Christmas decorations become?  I have no time for white lights or  Martha-Stewart-esque natural wreaths.  Bring on the multi-colored seizure inducing explosion of color, that's what I'm talking about!

So, we're going to try again tomorrow.  To a more secular celebration of the Holiday Season.

We intend to either visit this exhibition:

http://www.lightsofthesouth.com/

or this one:

http://www.icrc.net/events/holiday-lights.aspx

I'll keep you posted.  In the meantime:

My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:

I was a part of it...

The only good thing about this god-awful business trip to New Jersey was the one night and few hours I got to spend in NYC.  It's been about 13 years since I've been there and I've been anxious to go back so I was happy for the opportunity.

Not much about the city has changed; however, I have.  The hustle and bustle of Times Square, the endless suffocating crowds and the brusque, hurriedly rude pace of the New Yorkers no longer appeals to me.  Yes, I will go back, but whereas before, I always thought I could live happily in the big Apple, I realize at this age that...nah, I'd prefer not to. 

Plus, I don't have the zillions of dollars it would take to sustain my ideal urban lifestyle.  I am no longer young enough to be satisfied with a 12 story, roach infested, walkup closet as my domicile.  And as I cannot yet afford a Wall Street or Olson twins type of penthouse apartment, I'll live happily in my two bedroom house with Bella Cucina quite happily.

And drag the Rottenator into the city for a vacation at least once during Christmas time.  He did promise, after all.

In the meantime, here are some stereotypical but very representative pictures of Times Square. which included my own personal Hello Kitty Graceland.

Yes, I stood and stared in awe with my mouth hanging open at all the adorableness. I may have even drooled a little. But I also restrained myself.  Only $60 spent to indulge my psychotic endearing obsession hobby.

Requisite Black and White cookie, natch

Lincoln Tunnel drive in courtesy of Meryl

Time Square

And...the Holy Mecca...

Couldn't you almost DIE of the cuteness?  I almost did...

Doesn't this guy look excited to be working around all of the 4 and 40 year old females who were shrieking with delight?

And this is what awaited me upon my return home.

My own personal Hello Kitty terror.  It is good to be home.

My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:

Modern Family Reunion

Yes, today was the much anticipated family reunion that I have been looking forward to for weeks, and it was all that and a bag of chips.  Or, more specifically, all that and a yummy bucket of Frogmore Stew, potato salad and entertaining relatives.

It couldn't have been nicer.  It was in honor of my aunt's 75th birthday and her son hosted it at his gorgeous house and we all showed up looking our most gorgeous selves and it was SO much fun to reminisce, eat, laugh, reconnect, and catch up on what we've all been up to the past few decades.

I wish I had more pictures but my phone camera sucks, and I don't have a real camera, so I'll have to await pics posted by my sister before I can update and steal them, but in the meantime I will post two that I have stolen from my cousin...or should I say, my long lost sister.

My real sis, cousin-sister, and me!

 See, that shorty in the middle is our cousin Miss Priss as she is affectionately known, and she's actually our double cousin because her mom is our mom's cousin, and her dad is our father's brother, so I guess it's safe to say our family tree doesn't branch out too far.  Hey, we are Southern.

Don't we look beautiful though?  This is only an example of the beauty present at the reunion.  Here is the first generation, brothers and sisters from whom we have all inherited our good looks, our biting sarcasm, our wit and humor, our downright orneriness at times, and our excessive sweat glands and unruly hair.

The OG Originals

No, we are not perfect, and we have our foibles and faults, but I love these people with all my heart.

There were no wrinkles, no gray hairs, expanded waistlines, old standing feuds, or petty disagreements present.  There was just...family.  And it was beautiful.

I wish my crappy camera could have done justice to the beautiful flower arrangements on the tables, but you'll have to take my word that they were spectacular as well.

But alas, there was no tunafish gravy.  But maybe next time.  And as a promise to my uncle, I'll work a little harder to regain my Southern accent and stop sounding so much like a damn Yankee.

I hope everyone else had a good weekend.  I'm off tomorrow on a business trip to the NJ/NYC area.  The Rottenator and the Nooge will be left without supervision yet again...god help us all...more specifically, God help my house...and the Nooge.  I hope it's not too much like Thunderdome.

My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day (in preparation for my trip):

Severe weather in Aiken claims life of senior citizen

The near tornado-like weather that hit Aiken this Friday afternoon tragically claimed the life of one elderly grandmother of three.

Reports are stating that DeArbra Weaver, 63,  died of a heart attack in the parking lot of the southside Kroger supermarket while waiting for her daughter, international sensation Kathleen Weaver, 29, to finish her one of her legendary shopping sprees.

undated photo of victim

The elder Ms. Weaver was apparently so terrified of the golf-ball sized hail and frequent lightening strikes that she refused to exit her vehicle to head for the safety of the store, and instead decided to wait it out in her car while being nearly swept away by tornado-strength winds.

She was found when nearby shoppers noticed her vehicle which was the only one stationary in a parking space with its hazard lights on, and smoke pouring from the slightly open driver's side window.

Emergency personnel responding to the scene reported that her last words were "I always knew it would end this way...one of my daughters would be the death of me.  I always thought it would be the other one, though."

When reached for comment, the other daughter, Michelle Seigler, responded,  "I'm kinda surprised she went down like that. I figured it would either be a heart attack, diabetes, or cancer.  Hell, maybe even driving her car, but I never thought it'd be weather-related.  She was scared of that shit for real."

Kathleen Weaver, the daughter present during the time of the incident, is currently on tour and could not be reached for comment.

Ms. Weaver leaves behind two very wealthy daughters, and three cute as hell grandchildren.  The family is asking that in lieu of flowers, mourners make donations to the American Diabetes Association, the American Heart Association, or the American Cancer Society.