warning: i am just a wee bit cranky today. approach accordingly.

i am currently listening to the biography of linda mccartney by longtime friend danny fields. somehow, my library doesn't carry the book but does carry the 9-CD audio book (read by someone who apparently hated the project, as now the only person credited reading it is that old pseudonym, alan smithee.)

i must confess that i always wondered a bit about the ever-shy linda's life. i am only up at 1969, so there is a whole lot i have not heard yet. that being said, i have learned that linda apparently fell into the line of photography, initially spreading a rumor that she was heir to the eastman-kodak fortune to propel her credibility as a photog (and then vigorously denying it for the rest of her days). no doubt, her photos of some of the most fascinating artists of the 1960s and beyond eerily spear you upon viewing. but there are so many things that i am finding irritatingly cloying.

1) what an AMAZING mother she was, field says over and over. that well may be. but what mother leaves their 5 year old child for months while carrying on a love affair?

2) how EVERYONE loved sitting for her photos. considering how many of these people she allegedly slept with, it is no wonder that they liked posing for her. fields seems to think that, oh, it was the 60s, everyone did this sort of thing. but where i come from, this is still known as sleeping your way to the top. or starfucking.

3) how she never tried to ensnare Beatle Paul. please. how many times does fields mention how she says to her close friends, “i'm going to marry a Beatle”? this was one highly intelligent lady, not some googly groupie.

i don't know why i am feeling so evilly toward a poor lady who the world lost too early. linda mccartney, from all accounts, was a beloved and wonderful woman. i don't doubt it. i think, though, that this overly treacly account of her life is making me want to hurl.

or maybe i'm just jealous 😉

in other news, i had my audition for the newest revision of the game show Pyramid. with d o n n y o s m o n d. oooh. sadly, donny had already left by the time my audition time had arrived. boo hoo.

i went in, saw a tape of the new show, took a written test, passed it, and then came back for the personality test…as in, do i have any personality? (the correct answer is: yes. demented, perhaps, but i have one.) here's the wacky hilarity that ensued.

Pyramid is also under the same umbrella as Wheel of Torture and my old fave, Jeopardy!. apparently, all owned by sony. anyway, the executive producer of the show sits and starts in on us, saying that she is glad this is pyramid and not jeopardy because none of the jeopardy contestants have personality. without minding my manners, and in front of everyone else there, i immediately interjected “i beg to differ.” she said, “why would you say that? were you on jeopardy?” i responded,” yes.” “well, YOU have personality, but every other contestant i ever saw didn't.”

so already, i am starting off on the good foot 😉

anyway, after the first two people are selected to both give and receive clues, she looks at me and says, “you – what's your name?” i tell her, and she looks for my test paper. she doesn't see it at first. “look for the nastiest handwriting and you'll find it,” i helpfully add. (gee – do i have a little self-deprecation issue here?) she finds it. i go up there with the guy i am assigned to try out with. she asks me my name, my occupation, whether i am married and have any kids (“yes, she is 4 going on 40” – yes, that really did slip out of my big fat piehole.) “how much did you win on jeopardy!?” “well, i was on 4 shows but i only won about $12k because i blew final jeopardy every time — everyone ese did, though, too :-)” (it's true, btw – ask , who called me up to inform me that i was showing up on reruns on the game show network. aaaaaeeeeiiii.

anyway, i am sure i totally impressed the exec producer 😉 we begin the game. i think i do really well giving and receiving clues. she said good job; my partner and i get our picture took, and we are done.

so now, i get to wait and wonder whether my next 15 minutes of fame will ever arrive. you can only win $25k total on the show. if you win that, then one day, you will come back for a tournament of champs for $100k.

shit. it would still increase my annual income substantially 😉

1) i turned down 4 free tix to see the rolling stones. ::ducking::

2) i am more excited about this week's report from BC's school. (and those of you who know BC, please forgive my momentary brag.) here it is, nearly verbatim (the only thing changed is that i have omitted her name.)

BC Week of 10/4/02

BC had big fun this week. Even though she may look like a girly girl, she is truly far from it. She is active aggresive and a leader. All combined makes her one of the most popular kids who all of my girls compete to be around.

and now, to add the the humor, BC just announced that she is a talking head. i am not making this up, although i did try to teach her to sing “fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa.”

better run run run run, run run run away….

my old friend (let's call her muffy because i know it would crack her up)who lives in maryland shared some hysterical news today.

muffy: you'll NEVER guess who called our house this morning!
muffy: Helen *#&! Bentley!
muffy: her toilet is broken and she wanted someone named Lisa to help her
me: who is helen bentley?
muffy: the angry old congresswoman who used to smash sony products on the capital lawn
me: oh shit – yeah!
me: i remember now
me: eek
muffy: she's running for county executive or congress or something — she's evil, but now we know why
muffy: cause her toe-lit is broke
me: did you finally tell her she had a wrong number?
muffy: naw it was a message
me: maybe if her toilet was made by sony… 😉
me: [9:07 AM]: it would FREAKIN WORK BETTER

i have a sick kid, a sick spouse, and an exhausted self. my brain is mush. therefore, i thought i would share my astrological report today seeing that it is a) more coherent and b) pretty freakily accurate today. enjoy.

Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, October 1

You may not have as many friends as some people, but yours are of a rare breed and high caliber. Filter your opinions in the company of outsiders: The real world isn't quite ready for you and your kind.

don't i know it 😉

that's what the mama in the amazing kid's book Olivia says to Olivia, who truly is a trying little pig with pizzazz. since BS had a conference today, BC and i went to the national gallery today for a kid's program where they read the book, talked about the art olivia liked (ballerinas by degas) and hated but tried to emulate later on her own wall (lavender mist by jackson pollack). we met bc's buddy julia and her mom, a smart and fun lady. after hearing the tale and talking about the art, we went and found the pollack picture (BC was the first kid to find it!), after which we perused the delightful work.

Teacher to Kids: Why do you think the painter dripped his paint on here?

Me to Julia's Mom, sotto voce: Because he was drunk.

Teacher to Kids: The painter left some handprints on the painting. Why do you think he did that?

Julia's Mom to Me: Because he was a falling-down drunk.

as you can see, we are paragons of behavior. role models non parielle. after that, the kids had a little craft project to make their own “pollock” works. with yarn. at least it wasn't dirtying up my clean floor.

later in the day, BC, in no particular order:
1) used up all of the Barbie band-aids, plastering them all over her body;
2) took the cherry liquid bath soap and squirted it all in the tub (“but i didn't do it!”)
3) basically ignored everything i asked her to do.

gee, BC, are you trying to wear me out?

warning:i may nearly lose bladder control this time.

it seems that i have borrowed a CD from the library (which i highly recommend) entitled chapter one: songs inspired by literature by artists for literacy. there is a standout track by aimee mann called ghost world from, you guessed it, ghost world as well as a freaky cut from grace slick that i absolutely adore called reJoyce.

anyway, BC heard a song by ray manzarek (of all people) based on the book waiting for godot. she LOVES this song. i mean, her feet don't stop for the entire song. she looks like a cross between tommy tune and peewee herman. she calls this a “party song;” and at one point, she had BS and i dancing all around the living room.

samuel beckett would be so proud.

well, what with the IMF protests and a conference on sunday, BS stayed home with BC and me, ostensibly to get work done. instead, he spent 8 hours trying to figure out why my new PC was fecking up the entire network. oh happy day. leading me to remark:
1) i hate windows XP
2) i hate best buy
3) i want an easter egg.

okay, well maybe not really #3. just a crank.

that being said, today, a friend of mine came over today with her adorable sons, one 12 days younger than BC and one about 8 months old. duck is a friend of mine from high school; i have not seen her for nearly 20 years. and yet seeing her was like picking up where we left off. i love friends like that. she and her family live in MA but were down for a family wedding. i am so incredibly thrilled that she was able to come and visit. BC adores her new buddy Jack — and can i say what a gentle and well-mannered (and did i mention adorable?) little guy he is. and his little brother is a charmer, with wonderful eyes.

among our memories: we remembered the night we spent in the belmar police station after one of her friends decided to drink beer in front of a cop. we had all gone to see rocky horror, and afterwards, we were going to stop in a diner. her friend pulled out a beer and swigged. next thing you know it, we 16+ year olds are spending the wee hours of the evening trying to get the hell out of the beachy police station. (since my mother reads this, i would like to point out for the record: 1) i was not drinking; 2) i was not in trouble; and 3) i really could not go home until we dropped everyone off; hence why i arrived home at 6 am the next morning. i told you the truth then and now!) what times we had. yee ha.

i hope it doesn't take another 20 years to see her again.

my house is gorgeous. well, at least part of one floor of it is. you can eat off the floor, if you don't mind a healthy helping of murphy's oil soap chaser.

i, on the other hand, am exhausted. why is it two people can do this and so much more in 3 hours for $100, and i started this project at 9:45 and didn't finish up til this afternoon? i am trying to rationalize by saying that the cleaning people didn't do as thorough a job as i have done. and maybe that's true; you'd have to ask BS what he thinks.

but there is a part of my that says “shhhheeeee-it. i went through grad school for this?”

i am all set. i have the murphy's oil soap. i have a new gator mop. and, to boot, it is dark out thanks to the impending storm. so, little miss off-sense-of-humor has decided to put on a disco CD that my big brother made for me and clean the wood flooring in the house.

all i need is a mirror ball and i am all set.

one observation, though. when it was hip, i hated disco. i was one of those “disco sucks” people. over time, though, i realize that disco was certainly a big chunk of my formative years, and G-d knows how many of these songs are now being sampled. i was never keen on the song “staying alive” (i preferred “night fever” actually), but listening to the guitar riff throughout the song (and you do know what i mean unless you were born post 1977), i am actually a bit impressed. that is one seriously clever riff.

ok, enough avoidance. i am off to clean. please pray for me. or knock on wood.