Glitter Fail: 2011 Oscars

Like the movie geek I am, I look forward to watching the Oscars every year. That said, this year was a huge disappointment. I had high hopes for the James Franco/Anne Hathaway host pairing but those hopes were quickly dashed. I can't remember a more boring couple of hours, highlighted by awful speeches and absolutely no funny moments. I knew this was going to go badly even before it started, when I saw Ann's Valentino dress prior to the opening.

Nice dress, you might say. However, I've seen it before: it was nearly the same dress my daughter-in-law got married in last October, and it looked better on the bride. Valentino looked like a fossil, and clearly he hasn't gotten out much lately.

Moving on. The entire show was pockmarked by moments like these:

•  Melissa Leo's acceptance speech, where she had to say fucking, which got bleeped. Apparently playing a white trash mom wasn't much of a stretch for her, which I suspected.  Don't you hate it when someone who knows they're going to win acts like it's such a shock? Oh please.
• Another supremely boring speech from Natalie Portman, who needs either an editor or duct tape.
• Christian Bale's hyped up accent, which sounded Australian, and yes I know he's British. Seemed to forget his wife's  name, too.
• Having to listen to Florence minus the machine, who inevitably sings off-key live.
• Uninspired "jokes", stale and staler
• James Franco looked as though every time he went backstage, he toked up again
• An old video of Bob Hope, whose lines were better than any heard from a host last night.
• The closing moment of a school choir from New York. OK, sweet and all, but when that was the best they could come with in terms of musical entertainment (and it was), yikes.

Come on, Hollywood. You can do better. Much better. There were actually some decent movies this year, let's showcase this properly. Next year, Ricky Gervais, or at least Alec Baldwin/Steve Martin. That would be worth watching.  Entertain me, you know how and you know this stunk.

Frozen Heart-shaped Box

It's still cold outside and there's been no revelations on the horizon inside either. However, just to get the bad taste out of my mouth and burn a new image on my abused retinas, I thought I'd briefly post something pretty.

Ah, no he hasn't called and it's highly unlikely he ever will but who cares. Kinda warms me up just to see that smirk. I'll bet he's never set foot in a motorhome and doesn't have a poodle named Caressa, either.
Shallow,solitary and loving it.

The Ongoing Futile Quest

Just a brief update on this frosty evening in the hopeless search for a compatible dinner companion as evinced by my latest foray onto the ever exciting website of eharmony.com. We're up to 67 or so complete losers and counting and I'm thoroughly discouraged by the sort of harmonic convergence that appears the eharmony people are up to.  I can picture these little elves sitting in a dank room somewhere sipping lukewarm green tea, fondling themselves and chuckling as they "match" people up in their warped fantasy of a cosmic joke.  The sort I'm getting so far within 100 miles sound like this:

• watches NCIS 
• repairs motorcycles
• doesn't read much
• or reads motorhome magazines
• plays a lot of golf
• love their dogs, (usually small and furry and most likely female (shudder)
• like Garth Brooks
• Forrest Gump was their favorite movie

Plus, I finally had to say I don't like excessively overweight gentlemen. The ones that have pics look somewhat like this:

My favorite was the guy who was the clown at the company picnics. I'm starting to understand nuns. Are there no men over 50 who try these things who aren't morons or look like a Pillsbury doughboy? It's a rhetorical question.  Jesus God.  And, no, I don't want to "extend my membership". I have material enough now for a series of horror stories. I'd like to say it was just research and I think I'll leave on that line. Exit with dignity, stage left.

Colder than a ...rosy cheek in Reykjavik?

Why, yes it is. However, this is the Sonoran desert and the temperature in February isn't supposed to dip into the 20s, but it just did for two nights in a row, and is working on a third. What ?? you say. Something must be wrong. It most likely is, Virginia, this is what we call climate change...think about all the blizzards across the country this year, time and again, and all the other strange weather patterns that have been in effect for the last few years, and it does become fairly obvious there are bigger changes ahead. How far ahead is the question that no one knows the answer to, though.  All I know is my pond is frozen and my lemon tree doesn't look happy, even though I put a blankie on him, poor baby. I'm very glad I don't live in North Dakota, too, but there's more to that than weather, even though the place is a whirl of exotic cuisine and social life.

 

Now you're glad, too. Please warm up in the desert, nobody wants this sort of thing. I may be singing a different tune come July, but I don't think it's ever going to be for a McWank's. 

Looking for Mr. Right Now

So, here's the thing. My youngest son talked me into signing up for eharmony.com. He's concerned his aging mother will find herself doddering and alone with no fallback (so to speak). Or, as he winsomely puts it, what the fuck, you can at least get out and have some dinners and drinks that you don't have to pay for.  True.  But there may be a hidden cost here. Nevertheless, I fell for it.

Oh the excitement. Each morning I get my coffee and log on to see who's checked me out. I'm up to 30  gentlemen so far but I have not been moved to send any of them a "let's get to know each other a little better" email. At least I guess that's how these things work. Hell, maybe if they're interested they're supposed to send ME an email. Nobody has, though, so I guess they aren't any more whizzed than I am. I was leery of just this sort of scenario for two reasons: 1) maybe there really isn't anybody out there and 2) You hang yourself out there and people throw tomatoes, or completely ignore you, neither of which goes a long way to building self-esteem, to say nothing of a "relationship" (I hate that word), or even that free dinner and martinis thing. Man.

OK, I need to be more realistic and open, I'm told. I'm working on that. I think the I've got the realistic part covered - I know he's not going to look like George Clooney, or even Donald Sutherland, I'm not delusional or taking a lot of Xanax. But hair would be a plus, no? (That lets out half of these dudes in a blink.)  Being able to see their toes when standing would be next. (It's narrowing fast.)  We're getting down to it now, warriors, and this is just the physical stuff. Let's face it, the over 50 crowd is stretched pretty thin on hot. Just saying.

So, what's left?  Well, the maybes with blurry pics, but then I start reading the profiles. This is not for the faint-hearted and should best be done with vodka nearby, but alas I plunge on through a wildwood of self-righteous planet-saving, I heart my truck, hunting and fishing, cat love, hiking, and corvettes. I could adjust a bit, I think, wavering... then I go further to find favorites like music is Garth Brooks, Lady Antebellum, a plethora of Norah Jones (usually spelled wrong), TV shows like Lost, movies like True Lies, and my favorite "I don't read much". Then we get to what they really want out of life, etc., and this is standardized pap, usually accompanied by misspellings. At this point I freak out and check my profile to make sure I didn't check the "any" box for education. Sadly, I didn't.

I leave you with "open", then. Yes, I'm a misanthrope but not one who holds grudges. I think the glass is half-full, the sun will come out, and my dogs will love me. I'm open, but not desperate or crazy and people still make me laugh. I'm trying to do my part and I'm still hoping for a free steak and martini anyway.

Hey universe, or perhaps Mr. #31, give me a little help, will you?

Beginnings and Endings

Sunday, the middle part of a lovely 3-day weekend courtesy of Martin Luther King.

Here comes the beginning of a blog that I can say exactly what I think and want to write, unlike the Raven one which should be for Raven clients but which has unfortunately veered into more esoteric territory when it should remain professional and uncontroversial. Welcome to my real world.

Sunny springlike day here in the desert is drawing me outside to plan the garden. This year I'm not putting in seeds of stuff that sound good for you that I never eat, but only things I always do, (and hopefully they rise up like Lazarus which is not always the case with my garden, as it has a mind of its own.) Marla loves this enterprise and spends a lot of time with her paws on the fence planning raids she never makes but it's good for her doggie brain intrigues. There's a lot of dirt and sweat involved with this, but I rather like it. So that's the beginning part.

The ending part is the last chapter of a book I've been writing for years which I hope to finish in the next few days. Finish is a silly word for this endeavor, since then the editing takes place - first by my dearest termagent reader, Christy, a shrewd and ruthless slicer of hyperbole and then by me, aided by those who have an opinion ("That's cheesy, take it out", "he sounds like an asshole", "nobody will ever buy that" and various other suggestions..) All of which are usually correct and incorporated.

Reading back over this, I sound a bit stilted, but bear with me, it'll loosen up.

Love, K

Celebration in Seattle

Wedding, wolfdogs, wonders and wishes -- all came together in Seattle for a most unique and wonderful event : Chris and Christy's celebration of life and love. Weddings are funny things. Months of organizing, scheduling, ordering, details and worries that could make a saint weep culminated in a single moment of two people promising to love each other forever, and that moment was magic. The look of awe on my son's face as he watched the beautiful girl he loved approach, her face aglow, was transcending. For me, time seemed to stop, while a torrent of memories and emotions flooded in -- his first smile, step, day of school, dance, show, had all led to what every parent wants most for their child - happiness, and here it was. Weddings are very wonderful things.

 Everyone who came together made this moment as special as it was and I am so grateful to all the families and friends who helped create this: Kathy & Rick Herbstreit and Keith Shaw, the bride's parents who contributed so very much,with Bailey, Kari and Chris; the Morrises: Stephanie, Andrew, Sam, Sienna  and Mike and Lesley, best man and maid, tireless organizers and party specialists, you all made it special; Sage, Pat, Jonah, Nouela, Jessica, Nick, Ben, Jay, Mary, who gave cake, music, vows, love and support, and so many other wonderful people that were there to witness this event and spent countless hours making sure all went well. Chris and Christy are very lucky to have so many people who care for them and make their lives full.

Thank you all, and most of all, thank you Chris and Christy, for giving everyone, especially me, a moment of pure enchantment.  Cherish each other forever, as I cherish you. Welcome to the family, Mrs. Morris, I'm so very happy to say those words at last.